Before I found myself immersed in the acting scene of Castellajoux I often wandered aimlessly in town with hopes of finding something to do. That day was no different, I drifted towards the infinite graveyard that lined the borders of the town, a tombstone awaiting all from past, present and future. I wandered for months before I stumbled upon the single soul within, a stonecutter holding chisel in one hand and a flower in the other. I addressed him in a d’Ithanie greeting, though he gave no word for answer, merely got a hold onto my hand and guided me into the forest of stones towards a very specific one. As stereotypical as it may sound, the stone had my name carved in it, along with a portrait of my self reflecting the castaway look I endured at the time. Beneath my name however remained the date of death, though the birth missing. “Are you lost?” The man asked, to which I bobbed my head in agreement. “And do you understand what it means to be lost?” He continued. I nodded again and turned to leave, to which he raised the chisel and engraved the present year before the date of my eventual death. I never returned to the infinite necropolis ever again. Adrienne d'Ortonnaise More stories: Promotion Arrival in Calemberg The Forest Carnival Reflections The Character: Adrienne d'Ortonnaise House d'Ortonnaise
