A Rarity~
Amadeo Constans
La Gracia
Sevmoon, 4417
Amadeo traced an overgrown path up the hillside, taking a circuitous route through the riotous abundance of wildflowers that had known no footfalls but his own. Scarlet poppies, yellow and white anemones, blushing rockrose, and fragrant lavender welcomed him like old friends. It was a rare respite from the reverent adulation his presence drew anywhere but here.
At the top of the hill, a weathered fieldstone chimney kept vigil over scattered ruins of what had once been a dwelling. All that remained of his humble place of birth. Or so the story went.
His ever-present gaggle of garnet-and-gold guards fanned out to encircle the base of the hill. Even in solitary meditation, he was not alone.
Solitude is an illusion. No one is ever alone.
