I wrote this scene in the first draft, mostly, I recall, to reach my word count for the day. It ended up being a lovely beautiful scene that gave you a deeper look into life in Mulberry Glen, but it didn’t add much to the story as a whole and conflicted in some ways with Lydia’s character arc at that point, so I cut it later in the writing process. However, I thought that some of my readers might enjoy a look into some of what Lydia Green was before the final version.
This scene was meant to be placed right after Lydia’s second visit to Terra’s cottage. Note that in the earliest drafts Terra’s name was Pina, so that’s who Lydia is referring to in this scene. The scene is also very raw, and almost word for word what I first wrote, as a result, there are probably some typos.
Explanations aside though; enjoy!
BEWARE: SPOILERS AHEAD
Lydia stood in the entrance to the lone tower, wind sweeping her hair and cloak about, flying through the air. If she had needed to talk to someone, she would have had to raise her voice to be heard, but luckily there was no one with whom she would need to attempt a conversation anywhere nearby, and she could hear her thoughts perfectly well.
Lydia had needed some time to herself, to think about what Pina had said, and about the harvest festival, the next day when she could meet with the ranger to had met with the Zs
so she had taken a detour from the road back to Miss Castra’s cottage up the side of the valley wall to the lone tower. The quiet solemn stone rising against the pale sky. Back in Mulberry Glen time to herself had been bountiful, but now every spare moment seemed to be filled, and every moment that wasn’t she spent worrying about what would come next.
Lydia stood with one hand caressing the stone archway, worn smooth by time. The tower seemed a great sturdy friend, silent, tall, unspeaking. Only there for her to lean upon. Stretching out below her was the valley itself. The colorful leaves of the treetops simmering in the wind like a pot of mallow tea. Here and there houses and clearings and pavilions doting the swathes of natural color that bathed the valley with brilliance.
Lydia let her head slid to one side and lean upon the empty stone doorway, the hollow sweeping of the wind inside carrying a mournful tune.
Darkness chased her thoughts like the wind chased the leaves.
Omnis Res Mundi, Tenebrae, the Zs, Livy, Pit, and Garder, they all floated in and out of her thoughts.
Lydia closed her eyes and in her memory, she saw snowflakes.
Her hands were clod and her cheeks were red and the wind was blowing as now. Snow fell thick and fast like when Livy dusted pies with sugar. She was in the middle of a laugh, cold and rosy and filled with joy.
A ball of snow pummeled into her from behind, and she whirled on her feet to see the Zs swooping from tree to tree like acrobats and diving into white piles of cold fluff. Laughing all the while.
“Watch out! You’re no match for us!” Yelled Livy. He was standing next to her, packing another snowball.
“Are you quite sure about that?” She asked him, still laughing. “I don’t think we can swing from trees like that.”
“Oh hush!” She gave her a playful shove in a snowdrift.
“Now you had better watch out!” She said, flinging a handful of snow at him.
“Everyone for themselves!” Zale shrieked and pushed Zamilla out of her tree.
“Excuse me.” Garder voice came from the doorway. “Livy, I do believe that your pie is the precise shade of brown you asked me to keep watch for. So I’m taking it out, if you do not wish to come in, at least I beg you not to let your snow clumps bang against the window.”
A small smiling figure appeared above his head, shaking her own good-naturedly.
“In other words.” Called Pit “The pie is ready!”
“Everyone for themselves!” Zale shrieked, and all of them flew to the door in a fluttery of laughter and snow and the smell of mincemeat pie.
The memory melted slowly away from Lydia’s senses, leaving barely it’s sweetness lingering on her tongue, and dancing in her ears and eyes like distorted specks of starlight. She opened her eyes, back in the present world, looking over the windswept valley, gray clouds clustering overhead, her hair whipping about her face. Her heart ached, and she let it go on so. She missed Pit’s soft touch on her head and the Zs laughing shrieks and merry faces. She missed Livy’s good-natured grin and teasing eyes, not to mention his cooking. And she missed Garder and the stories he would launch into after a bit of pleading, and his ironically funny responses to the Zs behavior. The even the Glen itself she missed, from her sun, warmed patches of herbs that she knew like that back of her hand to that one twisted tree that she had found only recently and had never truly had time to explore yet.
But yet still she could not return until her journey was completed.
The stone around her was becoming spotted with little dark blots; rain. She looked up and watched the tiny drops hurtling down.
It came, the rain came, brought along by the breeze. A soft rain, a silky breeze. It tickled and kissed the leaves of the trees far below. It laughed on the rocks of the tower, it giggled in the grass. It sang and danced on Lydia’s head, drenching her hair with its song.
What do you think? Was I right to cut it or do you disagree? I’d love to hear your thoughts!
docendo disco, scribendo cogito,
– Millie Florence