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Lonely days and nights were not uncommon on the island sanctuary. Nomin often busied herself with getting more furniture built that could improve the cabin, or tending the gardens and creatures that she curated for herself since she had been left to her own devices. The experience was all quite relaxing as opposed to venturing elsewhere to combat any threats.
Quiet relaxation…
Nomin breathed out a sigh of relief as she buried the last seed in her personal garden. The soil beds were all filled with seeds not of the island itself. Each little plot was instead seeded with those that were gifted to her from Estinien. He had often brought back seeds that he found in the markets for Nomin to take care of.
Getting up, Nomin traveled to a different side of her garden, looking down at the soil bed that had been seeded at least a couple moons ago at this point. A row of trellis had been erected alongside the seeds, and vines were now snaking their way up along them. Seeing how healthy and green it was all looking, a smile spread across Nomin’s lips.
Crouching, Nomin was just glad to see how everything was coming together. She was glad that she had mixed cinnamon and clove together to mix with the soil, because the grape vines were looking great aside from small chewed up leaves from vilekin that could fly and avoid the ground.
Bringing out a small phial, Nomin took her watering can and tapped a couple drops of the solution into the water. She then made sure to water the smile thoroughly before finally feeling finished with her garden chores.
When the telltale clamor of a mammet walking up the pathway reached her horns, Nomin walked over to the fence and peeked around. The mammet that acted as courier was approaching, its wig bouncing with each ambling step it took. A sealed letter was clutched in its hand, and Nomin opened the gate so that she could meet the mammet before it reached the cabin proper.
“A lEtTeR hAs CoMe iN fOr YoU.” The courier mammet paused, lifting the letter abruptly.
“Where from?” Nomin asked as she approached and took the letter.
“RaDz-At-HaN.”
“Ah… Thank you.” Nomin then waved off the mammoth, turning the envelope over and breaking the wax seal. Taking out the letter revealed handwriting she did not immediately recognize, but the signature at the bottom tipped her off. The letter had been written by Vrtra -- or rather, his simulacrum, Varshahn.
Skimming the contents that she could read, Nomin had some difficulty parsing the handwriting. It was far more fanciful writing than she was used to. However, the gist of it was clear: Vrtra wanted to let her know the state of Radz-at-Han and the efforts going toward rebuilding. There was also an apology for making extra use of Estinien’s time in Thavnair, keeping him away for an extended period than what may have been discussed between him and Nomin in the past.
Shaking her head with a small sigh, Nomin folded the letter and tucked it away. Nothing to have been done about that. Even she herself had been getting the mammets on the island to help with relief efforts by making things that could be transported toward those in need. It was better than trying to turn a profit for the time being at any rate. That would have felt like turning a blind eye toward everyone and everything that still needed aid.
There was much and more to have been done, certainly, but at least Nomin could have solace knowing that everything at this time was rooted in aiding one another and setting aside differences. Much as the notion made her feel like a hypocrite at times. After all, there was still much and more to be said about her feelings regarding the Jhungid and her past with them.
No matter…
Nomin headed into the cabin, taking her boots off before entering, and went to look for some ink and parchment. At the very least, she could send back a response. Maybe she could have even sent a small care package along with it. While she mulled over that, she did wonder how exactly Estinien was doing during his time back under Vrtra's employ.
A small smile found its way onto Nomin’s lips once she procured her writing supplies and took a seat at the dining table. All things considered, this era that was spreading itself across Etheirys was a welcome one.
“Apply your body into the actions of wielding your lance. ‘Tis not just upper body strength alone that you need, but the ability to remain steady on foot.” Estinien stood close to a younger member of Vrtra’s Radiant Host, arms folded over his chest as he gave instruction. He recalled that in Coerthas, the art of the lance evolved from being something that was primarily done on chocoboback to needing to be practiced steadily for being on foot after the Calamity struck. Chocobos were less of an accessible beast of war since that had happened.
Hraesvelgr’s imparted information of dragoons fighting alongside dragons also hung in the back of Estinien’s mind. Surely, lancers at the sides of dragons must have been something. Alas, the only dragon that Thavnair had was the satrap himself.
Returning his mind to the lessons he had undergone, Estinien thought about how the Knights Dragoon mastered aspecting their aether to the winds so that they could assist in guiding their movements. It even allowed the miraculous jumps that would leave many people looking on in awe. It sure did when Estinien performed such techniques for the recruits of either the Temple Knights or the Radiant Host to watch and take note from.
A familiar presence pulled Estinien from his thoughts, and he looked over his shoulder. Walking his way was one of few simulacrums Vrtra used for himself that held the name ‘Varshahn.’ A bag was slung over his shoulder, and Estinien figured that it must have been supplies or goods for the Radiant Host.
“‘Tis unusual to see you out here,” Estinien said, foregoing a greeting.
“More unusual that we receive letters and goods for a particular dragoon who happens to find himself in Thavnair,” Varshahn replied in kind. There was a slight smirk upon the simulacrum’s face as he came to a halt not too far away from one of the nearby tents that served as a place of rest for any of the recruits who were done with training.
Estinien’s eyes narrowed momentarily.
“... If these letters and goods come from Aymeric, I request they be sent to my lodgings instead. I am not want for letters nor the potential bribery of returning to Ishgard,” Estinien said, looking back toward the Radiant Host he was overseeing that day.
“Ah, but they are from someone else,” Varshan replied. He walked further to meet with Estinien, shrugging the bag from his shoulder and handing it off. “I would not think you would wish to be kept from Nomin’s words and gifts. So I endeavored to get them to your hands as soon as they were received at the Meghaduta.”
Estinien’s attention went right back to Varshahn after learning who the sender was, and he dropped his arms to his sides. Taking up the bag, he glanced down at it and then replied, “I suppose she’s enjoying her time at the island Tataru got for her… No matter. My thanks for taking the time to make such a delivery.”
“Of course,” Varshahn said. His attention soon went to the Radiant Host. “I trust that everything has gone well otherwise?”
“I’ve no complaints.” Estinien walked over toward the shade of the tent, unclasping his gauntlets as he did so. “Your Radiant Host are ever eager to improve upon their technique. You may very well have your own set of Radiant Dragoon ere long.”
A chuckle escaped Varshahn. “Would that we would have need of dragoons in Thavnair. Were my sister, Ratatoskr still among us, perhaps she would wish to see dragon and man fight side by side once more and help aid those efforts. Here in Thavnair, however…it is just me and Azdaja. Spearmen who are capable are more than enough.”
“... Aye… With luck, Thavnair won’t have need of them.”
“Indeed…” Varshahn glanced over at Estinien. “It gladdens me that you have been looking out for my Radiant Host. I shall not keep you any longer. You are surely eager to read of Nomin’s writing.”
“A strong sentiment, but aye…” Estinien grimaced at the idea of sitting down to skim over the written word. But, having something of a physical item from Nomin was appreciated nevertheless.
“Then I shall leave you to it.”
Estinien watched as the small version of Varshahn began his journey back toward Radz-at-Han before opening the bag that had been given to him. New clothes had been provided, as had snack items of varying kinds. Eventually, Estinien reached in and pulled out the sealed envelope. Breaking the seal, he set to reading the letter that caught him up on what Nomin had been up to and the little drawings she included of some of the seeds she had planted thanks to him bringing them to her.
A small smirk found its way onto Estinien’s lips as he glanced over Nomin’s words. She kept things to the point, and had more sketches than paragraphs to share, thankfully.
All-in-all, Estinien was simply glad that Nomin was getting all this time for the rest and enjoyment she deserved.