Open Fields of Grace

Kalt I say goodbye to my weakness, So long to the regret, and now I see the world through diamond eyes.     He found Bastien’s tale interesting. On the outside, it didn’t appear as fascinating or adventurous as life as an assassin, but Kalt had always wondered what his life would have been if Harkon had never brought him into the Guild.     While it may not have been as enthralling as the life of an out killer, Kalt liked the way Bastien spun his tales about his past. The life of art and music and freedom was one denied to Kalt for years, one that he had to fight tooth and nail to be permitted. Hells, he had been forced to burn the first guitar he had ever built in the Guild, so to hear about people living that life freely was so...peaceful to his mind.     ”Well, I’ve yet to really take a look at the Atheneum, but I’m good with languages,” Kalt said. ”Heard there were a few indecipherable ones, so that might be fun to look into.” Puzzles were an adventure in and of themselves, so he enjoyed piecing them together. Languages were the same concept.     ”The sun?” Kalt asked, almost sounding shocked as he squinted and glanced upwards. ”Guess I never really was one for the warmth.” The warmth always pissed him off, much preferring to be able to wear two layers with comfort, rather than wanting to peel his skin off under the blazing sun. There weren’t many opportunities for cool downs in the Guild, though. Perhaps he hadn’t had the chance to truly enjoy warmth as it should’ve been. ”We don’t know what it’ll be like in the warm season, though,” Kalt said. He wasn’t sure yet what the natives called summer. ”Might be even hotter than your Venice sun.”