Cavataio Estate, Morte Mountain
Ivory, spun softer then silk.
Scent, sweat as honey suckle.
Dellicate fingers reached out to touch the petals. They were so soft! They smelled so sweet, and Minerva was momentarily enthralled. It was a native flower set with others within very an expensive looking crystal vase. Electric blue and see through the vase did have elegant wavy designed patterns.
“Mistress Minerva”, the silence and the moment was interrupted. Startled Minerva jumped, bumped the table. The table wobbled and the vase fell. An audible gasp left Mini’s pink pastel lips and the lips of the female slave who called her name. Both stunned were frozen in place as the vase fell from the table.
One of the male guards did have his wits about him. Diving with both hands reaching out he slammed upon the ground. The vase in his hands remained unbroken just mere inches from the ground. The stone floor was a bit wet. A few of the flowers fell out. Disaster was avoided this time.
“I got it”, the soldier proudly got back to his feet holding the vase.
“Thank you”, Mini smiled so sweetly the soldier grew even prouder of what he had accomplished. She just seemed so sweet and innocent, it seemed to have an alluring enduring charm from the guards and the slaves. Slaves came running over to help clean up the mess. They put the vase back where it belonged, cleaned up the water, and begin to rearrange the flowers back to the way there was.
“Mistress”, the slave who called out Mini’s name before called again. Mid twenties, curly blonde trusses the slave was a beauty. It was more then likely why she had the honor to work in a Cavataio Estate.
“It is time, you're being summoned”, the slave walked over with shawl fit for a young lady. Soft cloth made of light pink and white embroidery. Around the collar silky soft white fur graced it not just with beauty but looked as if it was designed to help the young girl warm.
“Here Little Mistress”, one of the other slaves took some of the flowers, Another had brought a new head band, a darker one that would be more fitting for her hair to be held in place from the strong wind that sometimes blows through the mountains. One slave had already taken the pink ribbon out of her hair. With how efficiently they worked together it appeared to be something they had done numerously of times.
“I will need my inhaler if I’m going to be going for a walk”, fretting over this detail was actually highly important. Minerva was asthmatic and walking in the high altitudes it could be fatal if she did not have it.
“Right here Mistress”, the slave with the golden hair took it out of her pocket and placed it within Minerva’s.
“Are you ready now Mistress? Should we go now?”, she asked not daring to tell the Mistress what to do.
Minerva left with the slave. It was an easy climb for the slave. It was not that step of an incline. In fact it was all down hill. Still, it was an arduous journey for Minerva. She had to stop at least twelve different times, at least that many times. Minerva had lost count and was more concerned on catching her breath. It was good for her though. She got to be out in the fresh air and got good exercise. Her doctor did tell her the more she worked her lungs in this way it could help to improve her breathing. She did not know if she believed that. How could torture herself help her?
The Bottom of the Mountain
Finally they had made it. Minerva acted as though it was a miracle. She looked up to the sky and quietly praised the Winged Goddess. Maybe she could call one of the big strong male slaves to carry her back up the mountain when it was time. Her thoughts went there trying to think of a way to get back up the mountain later on.
Nearly out of breath Minerva walked over to where [member="Lauda Cavataio"] was. Sitting down on the rock she pulled out her inhaler again. She could feel the effects of the medicine right away. Opening up the passage ways in her lungs in was not so painful to breathe.
“It is a beautiful valley. It seems so empty though”, she did try to smile despite having a hard time breathing.