Wioloen, 988
Eric Lund awoke to the sun peaking over the horizon. His wife, Carina, slept peacefully next to him. Her long black hair was on her face and her dark brown eyes were closed. She looked much older than her young age of twenty-nine.
The room they slept in was darkened from the sun not coming over. The bed they slept in was on the floor, with only a Jxven - a thick blanket, between them and the floor. The jxven was soft and made from the fur of a bear along with yarn, softening it further. Eric had killed the bear himself, as per Wioloen tradition for men every year as an anniversary gift for their wife.
The room they slept in was mostly empty, with only a small wardrobe for clothing and a mirror. The northern tribes were used to living in small huts and tents, even the rich would keep mostly away from the wealthy objects.
The floor was wooden and seemingly old. Eric quietly exited from the bed, as his wife turned over facing the opposite away, still asleep. He went to their wardrobe quietly and looked in the mirror. He was balding, his black hairline slowly moving further back. He was not allowed to shave it off quite yet though. His nose was small and his eyes were dark brown. His skin was tanned, as was his wife. They were of the Wioloen race. A much different tribe than the Helvig’s however.
Eric removed his nightwear. Which was a thin buttoned shirt and rolled-up thin pants, both black in color. He opened the wardrobe and put on a light green shirt with white sleeves, and a Yohengvon underneath it. He wore thin brown pants. The northern tribe preferred to be only barefoot throughout the spring and summer seasons. There was no reason to wear shoes for them. Even the rich often were without shoes or any sort of foot covering. He picked up a notebook and a pencil as he finished dressing himself.
Eric quietly left the room, opening the door to reveal a hallway and a staircase at the end. The house they lived in was rectangular, two stories as well. This was the house of the clan leader of course. It must create jealousy in all other tribes.
Eric walked down the hallway and down the staircase, to reveal a long room with a kitchen at the end. Cushions of gold and blue lined the floor for sitting purposes. Small tables sat around for entertaining their many guests. Very few windows lined the walls, allowing for minimal light, and keeping it cold in the spring and summer.
Near the staircase was a door to the outside. Eric opened the door and walked outside to see the path from the house to the village that sat outside of it. A few people walked around, waving at Eric as he greeted them. These were his people.
The houses in the village were mostly huts and large tents that met in the middle, nearly touching the sky.
“Er Eric. Seshi do?” An old woman asked walking up to him from the street. “Jo gun,” he replied to her, smiling.
The woman had nearly white hair. She smiled back, walking away from him, as she went about her day. Eric walked through the village, along the stone path with his bare feet. His people waved at him as he walked by, towards the docks, carrying his notebook in hand.
He sat on the docks, looking at the ocean. He thought of how much he enjoyed his life and how lucky he felt to live such a kind and nice life. Instead of having to fend for himself and suffer as a slave or servant, he lived a life of luxury and peace. He could sit here in the mornings and ignore all of the problems that consumed the world outside of this village.
He opened his notebook and looked at the sky. There were very few clouds about the sky, as the sun slowly rose. He could see the moon still in the sky trying to take away attention from the sun.
He began to draw the sunrise, as was his routine every morning for the past eight years since he became the clan leader.
A few minutes later, he went back home, to open the door and see his wife, Carina, was awake now. “Good morning,” she said, greeting him as he walked inside. He smiled at her and kissed her as he closed their house door.
He saw their four children sitting on the cushions. Three girls and one boy, unlucky lad sure as day. The three girls all looked exactly alike. Erilyn was the oldest out of all of them. She was also the wildest one to be. Then there was Anneke, who was the calmest one. Then there was Lagot, the only boy. Then there was little Maria, who was the youngest of them.
“Good morning, children!” Eric said, sitting with them on the cushions. “How are you all this fine morning?” He asked, smiling as he ruffled their hair.
Carina bent down and whispered in his ear. “Will Henry still be executed today?” She asked, quietly. Eric stood up. “Yes,” he said. “I’ll have to be off soon,” he said, nodding along. He looked defeated almost. What had happened with Henry?
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