Fated to Bloom
Months flew by at the garrison. The humans were at once a strange lot and also curiously familiar. Like her own people, they had names and titles, though their titles seemed more important to them than to any sylvari she had met. Everyone at the garrison had skills they were proficient at and skills that had room for improvement, to put it mildly. But unlike her own people, there seemed to be no innate connection from human to human, with the exception of Juano and Juana, a pair of twins. When Siriin had asked what they meant by ‘twins’, she was told they had been born at the same time. That simply prompted more questions. She was still sad there were none of these ‘parents’ or ‘children’ in the garrison, so that she might learn more. Likewise, several of the humans had inquired about her own Mother, how a tree could give birth. She answered as best she could, but most of them left as confused as they had arrived. Evangeline, however, seemed at least to take her answers for what they were. After the ‘Twins’ debate, she had sought the commander out and asked about her ‘parents’. Slightly taken aback, Evangeline gave the garrison an early evening off and asked Siriin to follow her to the commanders office. The tower that dominated the rear of the garrison held the aforementioned office behind a locked door just below the parapet. The round room was dominated by a large oaken table in the center with a cushioned chair folded up beside it. The walls were covered in paintings and maps, one of which Siriin recognised as depicting the south end of the Maguuma, where the Grove was, but the map made no mention of the settlement. But before she could ask about the map, Evangeline had crossed the room and placed herself beside a depiction of a human with lines of black hair across its lower face. It had the same clear green eyes as the commander, but was bald like the recruit Jacques. A gold plaque decorated the lower frame, but Siriin found she could not read it.
“A painting done of my father, Filomeno de Mascio, by Marek Favro. He had it made scant 2 years ago, almost on the eve of my own graduation from the officers academy in Divinity’s Reach.” While saying those words, Evangeline beamed with pride. Siriin did not quite understand, so she simply smiled. “What about your mother?”
The commander briefly scratched her chin then quickly withdrew her hand, as if embarrassed. “According to the last correspondence I received, they had still not found the time to have one done. I suppose living the fast life of influential nobles in the capital means one has little time for sitting down to getting painted.” Seemingly finished with her explanation, she leaned on the big oaken table, looking up at the painting of her father.