Canon Bound to Home [Adam]


Loyal Servant of Altera
The Wealth of Love

The cluttered stack of missives that marked the edge of Adam's desk heightened by the minute, the astute goat-man engraving his
signature into each parchment before folding them over in preparation of their delivery. His brisk pace in endowing content to these
scrolls might've appeared alarming to those that weren't familiar with the Caparii's practice, but on the inside: Adam eased into the
work as though he were solely made for such tedious tasks. He'd been involved in this practice for a lengthy stretch of time, so it was
not unfamiliar to find business that needed immediate, precise attention. Clients always expected dates to be presented when they
asked for certain materials and, unfortunately, if Adam wanted their continued patronage: he would need to provide them. Most in
this world were not patient, and thusly Adam found the speed to match them...otherwise his success would've faltered long ago.

However, these letters were not of the simple variety: they possessed a touch far more personal than anything he'd previously written.
Never once in his weighty career as merchant had Adam apologized for a mistake or inconvenience: especially in his later years. It was
unheard of for the Horned Merchant to botch or otherwise taint an order, so long as his hands were directly connected to the exchange.
Now, though, special circumstances had arisen: intent on changing his business practices for the foreseeable future. Patrons would, from
this point forward, seldom see his face when they received their packages. As much as he hated the thought of risking his credibility on
personal affair...the male inevitably insisted on writing to inform those loyal to his person that he'd be unable to show for each delivery:
unless they came to Linistel to collect whatever they'd requested.

Other merchants might've considered him foolish for detaching himself from the trade in such a way, but that was because they knew
nothing but greed. Adam paused, quill lingering over the freshest page as he glanced about his Linistel study: his hazel gaze flicking over
the bookshelves and candles as he soaked in the beauty of his small home. The moonlight trickled through in slimmed, radiant beams:
their luminescence brightening the room further in the late, midnight hour. A smile tugged at the Caparii's upper lip, Adam shifting in his
seat briefly before casting his eyes back to the page. Indecisive, he gently propped the quill in the inkwell to his right: lips pursed as his
haunches carried his rear from its seat. "They know nothing but greed." Adam remarked, his hushed tone cascading over the existing silence.

He did not consider himself wrong. Traditional wealth only provided power, not happiness. The male knew this from experience, and understood
that riches meant little when there was nothing to spend them on. Wealth always required something else to possess meaning, and held none of its
own. People weren't content simply owning a large amount of money, they were satisfied when they spent it: as if it were a voucher for pleasure.
What these merchants fail to that love requires no voucher. One, usually, does not need to pay anything besides attention when in
the presence of the person they care so deeply for. If anything, having a partner could only make you more selfless. With them, you wanted to share
everything. Adam pursed his lips, approaching one of the windows of his abode: both hands pressing into the sill as he glanced over the merry streets,
content citizens meandering there way to and from the tavern. This was home now. Where his love belonged, and where his heart would stay. Even if
it meant that he could not did not bother him in the slightest. She deserved his support and company...she always had.