Overgrowth
Legacy Name: Overgrowth

The garden was just as she had left it. Roses bloomed on either side of the cobblestone walk and deep green vines twisted around the stone fountain, the centerpiece of her garden. The mansion, built centuries ago by her family from the wealth resulting from a gold rush stood as lovely as ever. Its pale gold sandstone walls glowed from the afternoon sun, standing out in the varying shades of green. Ivy had crept over the walls, creating swirls and patterns on the gold backdrop. In some places, it was overgrown to the point that the sandstone could barely be seen.

Isabel stood outside the black gates and ran her fingers over the cold iron. The bars stood two feet higher than her and were decorated with flora and fauna. Black cast iron birds perched precariously at the top, their songs muted. Her grandfather had commissioned the gate from a French designer after the old one fell apart. When she was a little girl, Isabel had always thought that the gates held her prisoner in the family mansion.

With shaking fingers, Isabel unlocked the gates and they swung open without a single creak. Picking up her long skirt, she stepped carefully onto the cobblestone walk. In the sea of green, Isabel was an exotic butterfly, flitting here and there in her white dress. The collar dipped down in gentle waves, and the bodice was chiffon. The underskirt was silk brought from China and it placed kisses on her ankles when she walked. Isabel's Lord and Taylor dress was tailored to the Greek fashion and hung off her shoulders in ripples and waves of soft fabric.

The intoxicating smell of roses, lilacs and fresh cut grass surrounded Isabel, reminding her of home and childhood. The fountain poured out crystal clear water into a large bowl. It was carved by one of her uncles years ago and had been in the garden for as long as she could remember. Not minding her dress, Isabel sat on the edge and closed her eyes, soothed by the sounds of the water.

"Miss?"

Isabel's eyes snapped open to stare wildly at the young man standing before her. He had approached without her noticing and with the sun behind him, she could just barely make out his face. He had changed, Isabel noted. He was no longer the plump boy she used to know, going out of his way to make trouble. Time had treated him well- all the baby fat gone. Tristan's face was chiseled into a handsome, serene look and chocolate brown hair brushed his eyes. Isabel smiled and stood up.

"Isabel? Is that you?" Tristan asked, moving to the right to study her. "You...that is, I haven't seen you since you left!"

"Yes, well it has been a while, hasn't it." Isabel said. She raised her eyes to the dark windows, searching for one in particular. Ah, there it was: the window to her old room, the room where she would escape to for hours when her father was in a mood. It used to be furnished with antique couches and tables and a wall-to-ceiling bookshelf. Isabel had no idea what it looked like now, or how her parents changed it after she ran away. She used to be served tea at precisely nine in the morning. And the cook always remembered to include Isabel's favourite pastries and cakes.

"It's definitely been a while."

Story by Tempest

Overlay by Folara