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[511am]

[jyinspiration]

[beautiful-contrast]

The Clock by Balmuda (via @formlab)

[tylerhayward]

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[onminimalism]

[club8studio]

事例。#usmmodularfurniture #vitra #interlübke #balmuda #flos #kostaboda #skultuna https://www.instagram.com/p/CRAb8-0hhVs/?utm_medium=tumblr

[shroudkeeper]

[moonlit-endeavors]

#1: Crux - Sharlayan

It took me such a long time to not think of my would be saviors, as merely my captors by another name. 

I hardly remember the Bozja Citadel now. I was a child when it all happened. I have a vague memory of being carried around the city that day. I was so small. My father held me as we dodged Garleans and ducked between alleyways. We had hoped to make it back to the Queen in time. Luckily, we did, but not before we were ordered to flee again.

Looking back, of course it was better that we did. I would not be alive, had we stayed. I remember watching as our city burned. As the Citadel burned. As our towns crumbled. I remember crying.

And, I remember him, too. An elder Elezen who seemed to know it all, as if he had peered into past and future while staring boldly at the reality of the present before him. I remember hating him, and all those who called themselves Sharlayan. 

We were on the road for so long, I think even the Queen was happy to see any friendly face. We welcomed them, and they too us. I could not help my feelings. They pitied us, and I hated it. 

They offered the few of us left refuge. A place to regroup. I did not trust them, but then, I was a child. A lost Coeurl with only his father’s guidance. It was not long before we were counted among them.

Sharlayans.

Stewards of knowledge. Scholars and students whose nation was built upon the hard cover of tomes. They did not seem keen on spilling blood. They did not seek land or political favor. Merely knowledge. Which is likely why we were there. If there was anything to be known about Bozja, we would know it. We survived, after all.

For many years, I grew up as a Sharlayan. I learned among them, I learned to fight alongside them, and even further, developing a love of learning, to an extent. Engineering, metalwork, and martial arts were my focus. I was bested by few in that regard.

Sharlayans.

The very word still gives me a strange feeling. Like in my heart of hearts I wish not to be called such. As though it chains me to a world that does not quite feel my own. Yet, bound to this world I was by favor. By savior.