Logan had recently entrusted the intricate task of refurbishing the winery to his fifth uncle, Reynolds. His directives were seemingly random yet purposeful; he discussed knocking through certain walls for expansion and constructing a clay stove for essential operations.
To bolster preparations, Logan selected a handful of his most trusted warriors, veterans of their excursion to Canyon City, from the tribal guard. These warriors were to assist Uncle Reynolds in the renovation efforts, ensuring every detail was meticulously executed.
Meanwhile, Logan led his prospective perfume production team on an excursion to the verdant banks of the Danube River, a good forty miles west of their tribe. Here, amidst the serene flow of the river, a contingent of orcs busily scavenged for the most aromatic flowers they could find, their noses twitching in delight at each new scent.
The group had initially numbered fifty, but after their chieftain Astali and five snakemen departed on a separate mission, only forty-four remained.
Seated comfortably by the river, Logan relaxed while Isabel, a snake girl from the group, massaged his shoulders with gentle, rhythmic motions. His contented expression was a clear testament to her skill.
"Why are we collecting flowers, Chief?" Isabel's voice, delicate and melodious, carried a genuine curiosity.
"To make perfume," Logan explained, tossing a stone into the river, watching the ripples expand outward.
"Perfume?" Isabel echoed, puzzled. The concept was foreign to her. "Is it something to eat?"
Logan chuckled at her innocent query. "No, not for eating. You'll see, it's quite magical. Give me two days, and I'll show you."
Isabel nodded, her hands continuing their work. Despite her brief acquaintance with the chieftain, his approachable demeanor had quickly eased her initial apprehensions.
Logan, seizing a moment of casual conversation, shifted topics to a subject that had piqued his curiosity. "Isabel, I've heard fascinating things about your people. Tell me, what's the difference between the viviparous and oviparous snake people?"
The question caught Isabel off guard, and she paused, her face flushing a soft shade of pink. "Oh, why do you ask about that, Chief?"
"Just curious," Logan replied, noticing her discomfort but not understanding the cause.
"Is it... difficult to talk about?" he probed gently, hoping not to overstep.
Given Isabel's remarkable abilities and the joy she radiated, it seemed unlikely to him that she could have hatched from an egg. "Yes," Isabel confirmed with a nod.
Logan smiled warmly, extending his hand to invite her closer. "Come, sit with me for a while," he suggested gently.
Isabel gracefully coiled her tail and settled beside him, her presence comforting. Logan couldn't help but feel a sense of delight just from watching her ease into the conversation.
"Do you and your mother have a strained relationship?" he inquired softly, sensing a deeper story.
Isabel's beautiful green eyes met his, and she nodded, her expression tinged with melancholy. "In our society, female snake people hold higher status, especially when they are leaders like my mother, Astari. My father, on the other hand, was considered more ordinary, more a means to an end," she explained, her voice laced with sadness.
"It's common for snake women to view males primarily as partners for procreation. My mother exemplified this view even more starkly towards my father. She only decided to have me after he died defending our tribe in a battle."
Isabel's tone grew heavier. "If my father hadn't fallen in that battle, I might never have existed."
Logan reached out, his hand gently caressing her cheek in a comforting gesture. "So, you feel some resentment towards your mother, don't you?"
Isabel didn't shy away from the truth. "Yes," she admitted, her voice small but firm. "I've harbored these feelings since I was young."
"You believe that your father's death was the price paid for your birth?" he prodded gently, wanting to understand her fully.
"Yes," she whispered, tears welling up in her eyes at the painful memory.
Logan offered a gentle, thoughtful look. "Have you considered why your mother chose to have you only after your father's death? Despite her tough exterior, your mother is a chief, a position that often masks deeper emotions. Strong women like her sometimes find it hard to show vulnerability."
He paused, letting his words sink in. "It doesn't mean she didn't love your father. Perhaps she loved him deeply, in her own way."
"You are not a burden borne of your father's sacrifice," Logan continued, his voice reassuring. "You are, I believe, a testament to what your mother was willing to endure for the future, a future that included you."
"And if I recall correctly, wasn't your mother a formidable fifth-level water magician when she chose to bring you into this world?" he added, aiming to paint a picture of her mother's potential sacrifices.