Chapter Text
The sun is brighter than he remembered.
But then again, the world is more vibrant here; luscious green leaves, deep blue sky, even the air here is crisp and clean. The sensation is unfamiliar to him, and it almost made him dizzy. He put on his shades, and the world returned to its monochromatic hue like the one he's used to.
“Hello! You must be Dorian Crowe.” A voice called out and pulled him out of his thoughts. In front of him stood a woman with a smile on her face. She's dressed in a yellow long-sleeve shirt under a brown fluffy shearling vest. Her green pants are tucked into a pair of sturdy lace-up boots, both show signs of wear and tear throughout the ages. He bit back a comment on the state of her lower attire, reminding himself that in a few months’ time, his will be the same as hers.
He nodded and said, “Yes, I am,” before offering her a handshake.
She looked surprised by gestures, but quickly beamed before shaking his hand in return. “I'm Robin, the local carpenter. Mayor Lewis sent me here to fetch you and show you the way to your new home. He's there right now, tidying things up for your arrival.”
“He truly shouldn't have.” Robin shrugged.
“Well, maybe you might rethink that when you see the state of your house,” she answered in jest, “but come on, the farm's right over here, if you'll follow me.” She turned around and walked back. He, with no other choice, grabbed his luggage and followed after her.
“Welcome to Emerald Vale Farm.” She spun around with arms wide open, her orange ponytail swaying with the wind. “So, what do you think?”
“It… certainly has seen better days.” He replied in earnest. Wild trees and saplings have taken root and flourished amidst the years left rotten and forgotten. Stumps and logs and clumps of rocks embedded themselves into the soil, leaving almost no room for him to navigate around. Any areas left uncluttered are instead inhabited by patches of tall grass and weeds like a luxurious playground for wild critters. The sprawling chaos of Mother Nature left his throat dry, seeing the amount of work needed to restore this place to its former glory, and maybe even — dare he say it — reaching new heights.
Robin chuckled, “Indeed, it has. I mean, sure, it's a bit overgrown, but there's some good soil underneath that mess! With a little dedication, you'll have it cleaned up in no time.”
“More like in this lifetime.” He ruefully remarked under his breath. As he took in the scenery, the sound of the front door opening drew his attention, and out of his new house came a man possibly in his late 50s, if his well-trimmed mustache and grey hair were anything to go by. Dressed in a green button-up shirt with rolled sleeves, suspenders, brown slacks, and a golden tie, he exudes an aura of amicable authority, a striking balance of which he rarely sees from anyone.
“Ah, the new farmer!” He exclaimed with a smile. Walking down from the house, he stopped in front of both him and Robin, hand extended. “Welcome! I'm Lewis, Mayor of Pelican Town.”
He accepted the handshake. “My name is Dorian Crowe. It is an honour to meet you, Mayor Lewis.”
Lewis chuckled, “Such a polite kid, no wonder the old gramps likes you so much. Just Lewis is fine.” He nodded. “Also, nice suit, by the way. If we knew that you'd be dressing up, we would've made the welcome ceremony a bit grander.”
He waved his hand in polite dismissal. “There is no need for you all to trouble yourself; the fact that you've already helped clean and take care of this place is enough for me.”
“Well, with an attitude like that, the townsfolk will be all over him in no time, I reckon,” Robin noted with a grin, of which Lewis agreed.
“You know, everyone's been asking about you. It's not every day that someone new moves in. It's quite a big deal!” He understood why. An outsider like him could disrupt the flow of their long-standing rhythm in their lives; he hoped to not burden them too much.
“So… You're moving into your grandfather's old cottage.” ‘Old’ is certainly one way to put it. The colors have faded, the holes have been mostly patched, and the cobwebs are still stuck on the roof. He imagined that if this house were a person, it would have received pensions by now. “It's a good house… very ‘rustic’” Lewis commented.
Robin tittered, “Rustic? That's one way to put it… ‘Crusty’ might be a little more apt, though.” The corner of his mouth quirked up. Whether rustic or crusty, he couldn't deny that it had its charm.
Lewis gasped at the comment. “Rude!” Robin gave a hearty laugh before Lewis turned back to him. “Don't listen to her, Dorian Crowe. She's just trying to make you dissatisfied so that you buy one of her house upgrades.” Robin scoffed, arms crossed in feigned disappointment. He couldn't help but chuckle.
“Please, just Dorian is fine. And don't worry, I admire her entrepreneurial spirit.” Behind Lewis, he spotted her giving him a thumbs up and a smile out of the corner of his eye.
“Anyway… You must be tired from the long journey. You should get some rest.” The day is still young. What would last-week him do if he knew that he's sleeping instead of uselessly typing away at a keyboard at this time of day?
‘Probably having a heart attack like that day.’
“Tomorrow, you ought to explore the town a bit and introduce yourself. The townspeople would appreciate that.” Ah, yes. He needed to do that, didn't he, for the sake of manners and such. Well, let it be a problem for future him. Behind Lewis, Robin suddenly gasped as she looked at her watch.
“Oh, I have to go now, good luck! And don't forget to visit the Carpenter's Shop if you need anything!” She saluted before walking away from the farm with a spring in her step. Lewis was quick to follow, but he turned back and looked at him.
“Good luck, Dorian, and…” Lewis paused, doubt rising to his face before he patted his shoulder. Dorian almost flinched from the contact. “...My condolences for your grandfather's passing. He was a good man, through and through.” Dorian, unsure how to respond, only meekly nodded and gave a simple “Thank you.” Lewis melancholily smiled before leaving him alone with his thoughts.
Time passed, although he didn't know how long, before he picked up his luggage and headed inside. The house is cramped and small, unlike that of the opulent mansion he used to live in. The mustiness that steeped in every nook and cranny despite the lack of dust in here left his nose crying for the outside air. Inside were an old-fashioned television, a bed, a set of tables, and a fireplace that seemed to be unusually new when compared to the rest of the items.
He opened the window, letting the spring air in as he spent an hour or so unpacking and rearranging his stuff. Once everything was set in its place, he climbed onto the bed as the exhaustion caught up with him. Now, surrounded by nothing but silence, he finally let out the words that had been clawing at his heart for all this time in a shaky tone.
“I missed you, grandpa.” Before he closed his eyes, letting sleep stake its claim once more.