"Isn't it beautiful when we meet shards of other people's lives? A distant scent from the fleur on a lady's bun, a garden where another soul had built memories, a shirt that was once another child's favourite gift; isn't it wonderful to brush shoulders with the reminiscence of another's psyche?"
~
The City of Descandville,
Kingdom of Hyll-Decanta,
Rainy after-noon,
The first Saturnday of the Second month,
Fiftieth Year of the Reign of Adon-Vericus IV
Jehu stepped out of Michavel's Cottage, locking the doors behind him. The downpour was severe, prompting him to draw his hood low over his intense grey eyes before proceeding.