Talis’anarsi knew he’d made the correct decision in following Artem that night. He’d known she would come, had told her as much and he’d believed such a thing with a fierceness that had surprised even him. He’d only held on to two things for the past seven years and that was his very life and the hope of a better one.
He’d known he wouldn’t be under his uncle’s power forever. When he was old enough he would have left and not looked back, but he knew he had to live that long. Those were his goals and they’d gone hand in hand. He’d quietly fought to keep them alive and real, to give him hope and purpose.
And then the dreams had come. They’d been confusing at first, of a black woman he did not know and a life that was similar to his own and yet so different. She had visited him every night until he’d started to look forward to the dreams like a child would look forward to a story at night, wanting to hear the end, wanting to know what would happen next.
He’d somehow known, though, that she was real. It was a sense, a belief he could not shake and somehow he’d known without knowing how that she’d come for him. He’d see her someday. He’d known for two years that she’d come and then…she had.
Artem.
She was unlike any adult he’d ever met. She was like a child in her teasing, but she was never cruel and she was respected by those around her. Talis’anarsi had only known her for a few days, but he felt as if he’d known her forever.
It felt like she was his sister for she treated him as if he were her brother. She called him ‘little weed’ and she never hit him. She never yelled at him or made him do work, though, he tried to just to be helpful. He felt like he owed her that much. She’d saved him. He trusted her without question, in a way he’d not trusted any adult since his parents.
But that didn’t mean he trusted the people around her. Not yet at least and right now Talis’anarsi looked at the man before him with wide dark green eyes, trying not to show how badly his body trembled from fear he couldn’t help. He didn’t like men, especially very tall and commanding males. His uncle had been such a man.
The large Olonian before him didn’t seem to realize how nervous he was making the young teen, though, speaking in a stern way. It was not in an unfriendly way, though, but that was not something Talis’anarsi could recognize yet. He just heard the words and the deep tone, not the meaning behind it.
“Everyone is required to bathe, kid. You’re not an exception, especially not with those grubby clothes. And your skin could use a good scrubbing! Now get in the water, there’s no need to be shy.”
The tribe had journeyed from the Irel Hills, going west until they reached a river that flowed slowly through the Iius Plains, but provided water nonetheless and a way to get fully clean for the first time in nearly two weeks for some people.
The women had gone in their own group up the river and the males had stayed in this spot to do their own bathing. Talis’anarsi had been left with them and now a man the boy had heard was called Roher was trying to make him get clean along with the rest of the boys the men were supervising.
Talis’anarsi was not comfortable with complying, though, and he bit his bottom lip so hard it started to bleed, everything in him wanting to say no, to step back and get away, but he knew - he KNEW - that would garner him a beating. He was never to disrespect anyone by refusing them or turning his back to them…but he really didn’t want to do this and the two powerful things; something learned and something felt, battled fiercely within him.
Roher must have seen his silence as defiance all on its own, though, because the large dark brown-haired man raised his hand and reached for the young teen, intending to ’drag’ him down the path and toward the river. “Come on, brat. I’m done asking you nicely.”
There was a slight teasing in the words and the blue-eyed fire-wielder even started to smile a bit as he took Talis’anarsi’s arm, but the child didn’t hear it, didn’t see it. He planted his feet in the green and brown grass, resisting the pull on his arm and then looked terrified as Roher looked at him in surprise.
“Boy?”
The fire-wielder frowned, taking a step toward the young teen, wanting merely to know what was wrong, but his movement just seemed to alarm the boy even more as the child’s dark green eyes showed terror and he seemed to curl in on himself, flinching away, but not trying to escape the hold on his arm anymore as he stood perfectly still.
Roher could feel the trembles that shook the boy, though, as he held his child’s arm and the large man felt himself struck by the struggle he could literally see tearing the boy in two. The fire-wielder watched the child for a long moment before releasing his arm, somehow knowing the young teen wouldn’t run.
How right he was. Talis’anarsi couldn’t have moved had he been commanded to. Terror gripped him strongly and he couldn’t think rationally. All he knew with certainty was that if he tried to run he’d be caught and he’d be punished and the beatings were always so much worse when his uncle was angry. And in his mind right now, reality and memory were mixing crazily so that he could not think about the fact that his uncle was not here and that no one had hurt him here. He was with the Olonian now, some part of him knew that, but it wasn’t the part controlling him now.
Haunted, shadowed dark green eyes watched as Roher crouched slowly in front of him and Talis’anarsi stiffened, his entire body radiating tension, anticipating a blow it knew was to come. He didn’t move, though he did flinch violently when the large man spoke, voice deep and low.
“Boy, are you going to tell me what’s wrong?”
“Please don’t hit me. I know I deserve to be beaten, but I won’t anger you again. Please.” Talis’anarsi whispered. He didn’t stutter or speak his words haltingly. They were delivered calmly and factually. His uncle had hated stammering.
The clarity of such words and the certainty and resignation mixed with a subtle hint of pleading in them shocked Roher greatly, though, and he surged to his feet. “Beat you! Why would I beat you!?” he roared incredulously and then instantly realized his mistake as Talis’anarsi whimpered and seemed to retreat further into himself, not speaking again.
Roher cursed under his breath, watching the shaking boy. He’d dealt with a child like this before….well, no, Artem had not been like this. She’d been beaten down and trampled on, she’d been starving and distrustful. She’d hated the world and thought people sucked, but she’d had fire and courage, she’d had sass and she’d yelled at him just as much as he’d yelled at her.
This boy…was different. There was a fierce spirit there. One could it see in the subtle things about the child. The boy was still standing despite the beating he was sure to come. He hadn’t curled in a ball on the ground, hiding and he’d obviously been strong enough to learn to speak clearly despite his fear. There was a quiet strength there. The child just needed to tap into it, but Roher would be damned if he know how to take that approach with anyone!
Talis’anarsi heard the large man sigh and then footsteps walking away and the boy looked up through his matted hair to see Roher talking to a boy about his own age. The Olonian youth darted off after a minute and Talis’anarsi bit his already bleeding lip, wondering what was going on.
His mind was slightly clearer now. He knew where he was again, but in a way he still wasn’t okay. He still believed he’d receive a punishment. He’d defied an older person and the rules really could not be that different with the Olonians than they were with his uncle, right?
He really wish he knew what he should expect here. Artem had not gotten to tell him. They had not talked the night after she’d saved him. There hadn’t been time as they’d heard that the Demire army - if sixty men could be called that - were coming after them for the food they‘d taken from the village. Apparently someone in the village had tattled. The Olonian had nearly laughed at such news. Their camp had been packed and ready to travel in a half-hour, but still they’d been busy and there had been no time for Talis’anarsi to understand the tribe all that well.
So in the absence of guidance, his thoughts had reverted back to his time in the village and what he could always expect there. Surely he could expect the same here. After all, he was an outsider and worthless to these people unless they could get something out of him. He’d already shown himself to be defiant, though.
He’d probably messed up any sort of kindness they might have shown him with that stupid stunt.
Talis’anarsi could now feel blood running down his chin, but he didn’t care as the tears ran hotter than fire down his cheeks, leaving muddy trails through the dirt that coated his face. He stood where he’d been left, not daring to move as the heat beat down on him and the sweat that ran down his temple stung a cut he’d received from his uncle. His entire body still trembled subtly, on high-alert for any surprise pain that might afflict him at any moment. He stiffened as Roher started back toward him and he saw the large man stop, seeming to pause before he stopped advancing and after a moment, turned around and walked away.
Talis’anarsi didn’t know what to make of that. Had the man been coming to hit him, but had decided that Talis’anarsi needed a more severe punishment? Was he getting someone else to deliver it?
The agony of not knowing, of waiting was wreaking more havoc on his mind than a beating ever could and Talis’anarsi found himself wishing they’d just do it and get it over with. Wasn’t being hit bad enough?! They didn’t have to play mind-games with him, too!
The thoughts were hot streaks of fire through his mind, but as soon as he saw Roher approaching again they fled entirely and Talis’anarsi had to work to not take a step back and bolt as a shiver ran through his body. He already hurt from his uncle’s beating days ago. The bruises were finally healing! He didn’t want to hurt again, but knew there was nothing he could do about it but endure the punishment and then try to avoid more.
He tried to resign himself to his fate and felt more tears slip down his face before he could regain control. He lowered his head so they wouldn’t be seen, ashamed of them. He was supposed to be brave. That’s what his father had told him to be. To be brave and he couldn’t even do that! More tears ran as Talis’anarsi felt grief come crashing down on his shoulders.
“Little weed?”
His head snapped up at the name and dark green eyes met black ones. Talis’anarsi moved toward Artem before he’d even thought about making his feet do so, his body reacting on instinct and he nearly crashed into her as he ran into her arms and started to sob. She seemed surprised for only a moment and then her arms were around him and her hand was in his hair, holding him close, protecting him.
Talis’anarsi could hear Artem making shushing sounds, her voice a low murmur in his ear as he cried, his body shaking terribly as he let go of the terror and tension that had made him stand rigid not a minute ago. He could let them go now. Artem was here and things were right in the world again. He didn’t know WHY, he just knew they WERE. Artem wouldn’t hit him, she wouldn’t hurt him or betray him in any way. He knew that like he knew anything with certainty at all.
It was enough.
------------------------------
She’d never seen a child look so scared before. When Artem had been informed that something was wrong with her ‘boy’ she’d felt an instant alarm that at the time she’d chided herself for but now knew with absolute certainty had been warranted. The sheer power of the emotions coming off Talis’anarsi had been so staggering that she’d almost forgotten how to breathe when he’d looked up at her.
The grief in those dark green eyes was like a blow and she’d nearly fallen over when the child had crashed into her. Somehow she’d known what to do. Her arms had come up to hold him and her words had come to calm him and all the while she’d been both shocked and amazed all at once at how much trust she felt stream out of the boy.
She looked at Roher over the child’s dirty head and the man merely shook his head and shrugged and Artem could easily feel the confusion from him. The large man spoke quietly. “I don’t know what happened. I only tried to get him to bathe. I did take his arm and that’s when things went down hill.”
“What did he do?”
The black woman asked the question in concern before she thought about how it might sound to the boy in her arms and she felt him stiffen slightly, holding on to her all the tighter. Artem instinctively shushed him again though he was not crying anymore and she stroked his matted hair, reassuring the child that she was not upset with him.
Roher observed the action silently and only when Talis’anarsi relaxed again did he speak. “He started to pull away and then freaked out, asking me not to beat him. I think I scared the boy with my response to that and after that I figured it might just be best to get you.”
Artem sighed out slowly, feeling both angry and saddened because the child‘s emotion showed just how hurt he really was though he‘d tried to put on a brave face the last few days. She was extremely grateful she’d not been far away. Yeah, she’d been bathing and now her hair was dripping and her clothes damp against her skin - oh and with all the dirt on Talis’anarsi she was now muddy, too - but it was worth the inconvenience to reassure the scared boy who hung on to her like a life-line. Artem was sort of liking the feeling of being needed, too, strange as that felt to her.
“Thank you, Roher. I will take it from here.” She smiled at the large man who gave her a pointed look back before he left. The black woman knew what it meant and she sighed again, pulling back from the child who hugged her so tightly. He immediately let go, dark green eyes wide again as he searched her black ones and Artem once again felt that strange stirring inside that told her they were connected.
She still didn’t understand HOW that was possible, though.
The black woman crouched before the boy, looking up at him a bit now. “All right, little weed. What’s the problem here? You do know that the water ain’t poisonous, right? We could find much better ways to kill you had we the mind.” she chided gently and she watched the boy as he seemed to weigh those words and how they were said before his small shoulders relaxed a little.
“I did not mean to cause trouble. I’m sorry.” It was a whisper and Artem snorted with a grin. “Oh, don’t you be worrying about Roher. He’s wrestled bigger warriors than your scrawny butt. He’ll get over being bested by a boy no bigger than a twelve year old.”
She winked at him and Talis’anarsi blinked back at her, seemingly startled by her reaction and then both cautious and curious as he looked after the way Roher had gone, back toward the river that sloped away from them, shielding the two slightly from the eyes below. “He’s not…mad?”
“Worried more like it, little weed. I congratulate you. It takes a lot to freak old Roher out. I might make use of you yet.” Artem grinned as she said the words, showing clearly that she didn’t mean it and she saw the barest of an answering smile on the child’s face before it was simply gone and he was looking down once more, avoiding her eyes.
“I didn’t mean to defy him. I know I should have obeyed.”
Artem sighed, feeling like she was going around in circles by this point. She tilted her head, her wet black braids falling to the side and her brow arched. Her fingers idly played with the softer green grass among the brittle brown ones beneath her. Grass was so scarce, it was nice to just feel it and it grew by the rivers where it would grow no where else. “So why did you ‘defy’ Roher? Are you afraid of the water? Because no one will let you drown, little weed.”
Talis’anarsi shook his head, but offered nothing more than that, shifting in a nervous way from foot to foot and looking down. Artem knew in that instant that she NEEDED to find out why the boy had resisted getting clean as he had. Not just because the child needed a bath - BADLY - but because whatever the reason was…if Talis’anarsi trusted her with it, then it would be a definite step of progress, a step they could build other steps upon.
She decided to take the pace a bit slower now, though, perhaps get the boy to loosen up just a little before she asked what she really wanted to know. Artem sat where she was already crouched and pointed to the ground. No words were needed as Talis’anarsi sat, completely obedient.
Artem put her chin in her hand. “All right, squirt, I’m gonna ask you some questions and I want honest answers, got it?”
Talis’anarsi nodded slowly and Artem noted that he was biting his lip, the same one that seemed to have produced the dried blood on his chin. Damn, she’d have to get him to stop doing that…but one step at a time.
“Can you tell me about your parents?”
Dark green eyes came up, blinking at her with complete surprise and Artem only looked back with a questioning gaze, inwardly wondering at the emotions running through her small charge. He seemed truly amazed that she’d asked such a question and both happy and sad all at the same time. But there was no reluctance to speak on this topic and she took that as a good sign.
“They were nice and…and warm and…I don’t remember them all that well, but I remember that. My mother used to sing to me and my father would toss me in the air until I felt I would fly away.” The love and longing in Talis’anarsi’s words made Artem smile even as she wanted to cry at the pure emotions washed through her. She couldn’t make sense of it either. She never cried! She felt the emotions of everyone and not once did it make her want to cry like the emotions from this one child did.
There was just something about Talis’anarsi that got to her. He’d so very easily slid his way into her life and into her mind with just a look and it unnerved her greatly even as she found it hard to be threatened by him. Not when it seemed like he didn’t have an aggressive or manipulative bone in his body - and that was only from a few day’s observation!
The black woman smiled a little more to hide the sadness she felt, encouraging. “What happened to them?” Surely that man beating the child could not have been his father!
“We traveled a lot when I was younger. My father was a nomad and my mother fell in love with him when he came to the village. She went with him and then they had my brother, Asentho’kiino, me and my sister. When Sentho’kiino was fourteen, I was seven and Jemn‘iasa was three, my mom wanted to go back to the village, to see her brother.” Talis’anarsi was biting his lip again, hard, and Artem reached forward, placing just one finger over his mouth, making the boy release it.
“That’s not a good habit, little weed. Now, tell me what happened.” Her voice was soft, patient in a way Artem didn’t feel as she wanted to know everything, to know everything and help the child before her get better….and maybe to go back to that village and beat the living crap out of the man who’d been beating the boy…
But right now she had to be patient…and she hated it.
It seemed to work for Talis’anarsi, though, as he took a deep breath and started to speak again. “There was a sickness that came through the village while we were visiting. My father, mother, Sentho’kiino and Jemn’iasa got it and they died.” It was said quietly, but simply and the boy swallowed hard before going on and Artem literally watched as his eyes seemed to glaze over and his mind to retreat into a different world, not connected to the words he said, protecting itself.
“My uncle took me in. He didn’t like my father and he was angry at my mother for marring him. He blamed my father for his sister’s death. He didn’t like me either.”
“How long has he been beating you?”
Talis’anarsi shrugged and Artem shook her head, reaching forward to lift his chin and make his distant, dark green eyes meet her black ones. She pushed her power on him then, a slight nudge of bravery, a tinge of clarity and purpose and the boy’s eyes cleared slowly of their fog. Artem waited for that before she spoke, her tone soft but commanding.
“How long, Talis’anarsi? Tell me.”
“Since I was seven and eight months.”
The child whispered it with certainty and Artem whispered back, afraid of scaring him like one would be afraid of startling a deer. “How old are you now?”
“Fourteen and three months.”
The black woman felt like she’d been hit in the stomach and her black eyes slipped closed for a few precious seconds where she prayed for wisdom and the strength to bear this task set before her. Seven years. She’d thought him younger than that. He looked younger than fourteen, acted younger. Yes, being beaten for even one year or one month would have been horrible to hear, but seven years? He’d lost his parents, brother and sister in one fell swoop and then been thrown into a nightmare that had spanned half his young life. And he’d counted the months, he had to have done so to be so accurate about his age.
Artem felt like she might be sick and tried to steady herself as she opened her eyes to meet the dark green ones that only watched her, waiting with the most extreme patience, patience a child his age should not have had.
“I did not mean to hurt you. I am sorry.” Talis’anarsi whispered, searching her face.
Artem shook her head, feeling tears well in her black eyes as she reached forward and pulled the boy into her arms gently, waiting to see if he‘d resist her. The child didn‘t. “No, little weed, no. You have nothing to be sorry for. Nothing. I am so sorry for your hurt.”
“It’s okay.” The muffled reply, so sincerely given had the black woman shaking her head again, this time angrily as she hugged Talis’anarsi tightly. “No. No it is NOT okay. It is never okay to beat someone, Talis’anarsi. Never and the Olonian do NOT do such things.” She felt the boy freeze in her arms and when his surprised emotion washed over her Artem felt some understanding come to her own mind. She pulled back at little and looked into the child’s face when he looked up at her.
“Did you know that? No one gets beaten here, little weed. NO ONE. Not me, not Roher, not Eka, not Aenen, a guest or a stranger or a new member of the tribe. No one. Not even you. No one is going to raise a hand against you, Talis’anarsi unless it be in a sparring match and no one is going to make you do one of those unless you wish it. Do you understand that?”
It was apparent that the boy did know that, NOW, but he definitely had not before if the silent tears coursing down his face were anything to judge by and Artem pulled him back to her again, rocking him gently as he curled in her lap. Neither of them said anything, but Artem was smacking herself every which way inside for her cluelessness. She should have made time to explain to him about his new home, about the people here and his role in the tribe. She should have talked to him sooner, made sure he understood that here he was not going to be hurt. She should have recognized what she herself used to be like and remembered the care that had been shown to her. She’d had understanding and care and things explained to her as soon as she was welcomed into the tribe and she hadn’t been nearly as bad off as Talis’anarsi was.
She was going to do better. She was going to make sure that this kind of thing never happened again. She was. The boy in her arms deserved it.
Feeling resolved and therefore stable once more, the black woman pulled back from the boy again and he seemed perfectly fine with climbing out of her lap and crouching before her, his dark green eyes just a little bit brighter, a little bit more trusting than they’d been before.
“Feel better?”
The child nodded and Artem smiled and stood, stretching. “Good, because now we both need baths. You’ve covered me in mud!”
Talis’anarsi’s eyes widened again, the peaceful look leaving and Artem caught onto the tension immediately, speaking quickly before things could escalate, but softly. “Talis’anarsi, why don’t you want to get clean?”
“I..I want to be clean.” the boy admitted.
“Then why won’t you go in the water?”
The child looked trapped and Artem took a careful step forward, making sure none of her body-language read as aggressive as she slipped her fingers under the young teen’s chin, making him meet her eyes.
“Hey, I told you no one is going to hurt you here, right? Or do you have so much dirt in your ears you didn’t hear me?”
“I heard.” the boy whispered and Artem smiled. “Good. Do you believe me?”
There was a long pause, a thoughtful pause before Talis’anarsi nodded slowly and Artem nodded back. “Why won’t you go in the water then?”
“I have to get undressed!” Talis’anarsi blurted it out and Artem blinked, surprised before a smile spread across her face and she started to laugh. “Well, of course you have to get undressed! You can’t bathe in your clothes, little weed!” The black woman shook her head, putting her hands on her hips, a sparkle in her black eyes. “I promise no one will watch you or play any tricks on you. It’s just a bath, Talis’anarsi.” she chided and reassured gently, but the boy only shook his head, now appearing both embarrassed and yet scared all at once.
Now Artem was thoroughly confused and she stood straight, frowning in a puzzled way. “If those are not the problems, then what IS?”
The hesitation and fear Talis’anarsi showed were very real, Artem could feel them clearly and she could feel how much the boy was struggling with them. He’d started to bite his lip again and this time Artem didn’t stop him, she just spoke quietly.
“You can trust me, Talis’anarsi. I promise.”
The boy pursed his lips a little, watching her, thinking on that and finally he stood and with extreme hesitation and effort of will that she could feel, he slowly peeled off his dirty shirt. And Artem somehow knew it was not the bruises that marred his skin, turning his brown flesh dark purple and blue, yellow and green, even black in some areas, that made Talis’anarsi nervous but something else.
She let her eyes sweep over his abused body once before returning her gaze to his dark green ones, the same fondness in her own that had been there before. And Talis’anarsi’s lips twitched in the barest of smiles at seeing it, but even that expression, coveted as it was by Artem, could not hold her attention when she saw the movement behind the boy’s shoulders.
Great wings, feathered white with green tips, rose from behind the young teen slowly, spreading further and further until they were both as long as the boy was tall, unfurling like great flags, brilliantly clean and somehow pure. Majestic.
Artem studied them with wide eyes and she stood slowly, watching the wings twitch and quiver, reflecting every emotion and movement of the person they were attached to. And then the black woman was looking at the boy the wings belonged to and she found she only had one question for him. One burning question that most-definitely needed to be answered NOW.
“How, by the great twin suns, did you hide those under your shirt!?”
Talis’anarsi blinked at her, incredulous. “You’re not mad?”
Artem laughed, looking at the wings again, openly admiring them. Not many powers came in the form of physical ‘deformities‘ and this one was incredible! “Why would I be mad, little weed? They’re beautiful!”
This time the smile that came to Talis’anarsi’s face was just a little bit bigger and it stayed a little longer and Artem felt like she’d just won the best victory in the world. She couldn’t help shaking her head, though, looking again at the wings. “No, really, how did you hide them? They’re huge!”
The boy blushed at that and moved around slowly so she could see his back and his wings started to fold as he turned, their owner conscious of the damage they could do should they hit someone. Artem watched in fascination as the wings folded not how a bird’s wing did but like a pocket-knife might, they folded themselves in half, sliding under each other before they literally started to mold to Talis’anarsi’s skin until there was nothing there to feel, but certainly a great deal to SEE. It looked like his wings were still there, still draping across his back and over the front of his shoulders, wrapping around his sides, disappearing under his pants, but they were flesh against his skin like they’d been inked there.
“I keep them hidden like this.”
Artem nodded slowly and met dark green eyes when the boy turned back around. “Did you get hit for having them?”
Talis’anarsi nodded at her quiet words and Artem sighed. “I thought so. You don’t need to worry about that here, little weed. Most of the Olonian have gifts even if you can‘t readily see them. Everyone will love yours just as much as they love everyone else’s, I promise.”
The child’s eyes narrowed just a little, judging and Artem was strangely happy to see it. “Really?”
Artem laughed and winked. “I wouldn’t lie to you, kid. Now come on, let’s take a bath. Dirt really doesn’t go with white wings…or me.” She held out her hand and the boy took it this time before he followed her without hesitation.
Yep, greatest victory in the world.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
“Bor’sanin! Give it back!”
Zefir’enel clung to her brother’s back as he spun around, his arm stretched out and hers reaching after it as she alternated between trying to hang on to the laughing man and getting back her pocket-knife all at the same time.
“But little sister, you aren’t supposed to have this! You could cut yourself and what ever would mother say to that?” Bor’sanin laughed again as his younger sister growled in answer and pulled his blond hair.
“Never you mind that! Give it back you big oaf!”
She managed to partly climb over his head in attempt to get the object from his hand, making the man laugh harder and then collapse back on the couch as he lost his balance. Zefir’enel shrieked and then started laughing as well as she attempted to untangle herself from her brother and grab her knife at the same time.
“Ah-ha!” Her hand grabbed around the knife and she held it in the air. “Success! Ahhh!” The knife was suddenly gone again as her brother practically tackled her and then Bor’sanin was darting away, Zefir’enel fast on his heals.
Nevermind.
Success was postponed, but the young woman didn’t much mind as for the next fifteen minutes she and her brother wrestled around the empty house and at the end they both collapsed on the green-rugged floor, looking up at the glass ceiling at the blue-purple sky above. Zefir’enel now held her pocket-knife tightly and she looked over at her brother with a smile.
“I’ve missed you.”
Bor’sanin glanced over, his eyes the same familiar brown she remembered, the same eyes as their father, but younger as Bor‘sanin was only twenty-three, full of life and not worn-down and tired like their father was. “I missed you, too, Moon.”
Zefir’enel wrinkled her nose, looking up at the sky again. “Must you call me that?” she complained, but inwardly could not quell the happiness at hearing the nickname once more. Bor’sanin was already shaking his head in a negative answer, a smile on his lips.
“Not a chance. It’s not often I get to use it, you know.”
The young woman went quiet and nodded before she sat up, white hair now ratted and wild falling about her face and shoulders. Her violet eyes wandered around the lavishly decorated house. The colors were green and blues with dashes of purple thrown in at random. It would have struck Zefir’enel as beautiful had it not been so overdone and had she not lived her and known how expensive everything was. It would have looked different to her had she not had to be reminded all the time how important everything was and how she wasn’t to break anything and don’t sit on the white couch unless her pants were clean and don’t leave food on the green marble counter, it was sloppy and-
“What’s on your mind?”
Her brother’s voice broke through her thoughts and Zefir’enel turned to him, smiling as she rested the side of her head on her jeaned knees. “Nothing. Just how much I don’t want you to go again. It’s lonely here when you’re gone.”
Bor’sanin reached over, tugging a lock of her white hair in a fond way. “You know I would stay if I could, but…” He shrugged and the young woman sighed,
“I know, you’re needed. You have an important job.”
“The fires in Ruuk don’t put themselves out, Moon.”
“I know.” And indeed they didn’t. Her brother’s job was a dangerous one, more-so than many of the others in the City. Fires were a real danger to the inhabitants here and more and more had started to break out as the secret group of protestors had started to cause more trouble. The Fire Fighters were hard-pressed to keep them under control. Hence the reason Zefir’enel nearly never saw her brother anymore.
Still, she was proud of him even if she didn’t like this City all that much. He was protecting PEOPLE, not just buildings. He was a hero in her mind and would always remain such.
“So, what have you been up to, besides acquiring illegal blades?”
The young woman realized her brother must have been watching her and the emotions that flickered across her face and had decided to change the subject. She wished she could go along willingly with his idea, but he’d happened to touch on a subject she couldn’t really answer in great detail.
Zefir’enel shrugged, rising from the floor and starting toward the kitchen’s island table, climbing the three-stepped stair from the living room floor to the kitchen floor by jumping over the steps entirely and then sliding across the linoleum with her socked feet.
“Nothing much. I’m taking some singing classes at the Arts School and I think I might be close to convincing mom and dad to get me a dog.”
“You have a boyfriend yet?” Bor’sanin had followed her into the kitchen, sitting on one of the stools at the island table while he watched his younger sister scroll through the menu-screen that hovered before her, looking for something to eat.
Zefir’enel blushed at the question, her mind instantly going to the dreams she’d been having before she pushed the thought away quickly. No. No that was not the same thing. She didn’t even know the guy and she never felt THAT way when she dreamed of him. But, oh gosh darn it! Why was she dreaming about him in the first place?!
“No.” she answered shortly and her brother held up his hand. “Okay, okay, touché subject. Nevermind. How about a job?”
Zefir’enel selected the food she wanted and pressed her fingers on the screen before closing the device, knowing it would be about two minutes before the food would arrive. Her violet eyes stared at the mahogany cupboards before her without seeing them, her mind going back to the many people she’d helped since the visions had started.
Did that count as a job?
“Nothing so far. I’m still looking.” She turned back to her brother, smiling to hide her inner confusion, but as she came to take a seat opposite him, Bor’sanin frowned, clearly unconvinced as his brown eyes searched her violet ones.
“Zefir’enel, what’s wrong? When I come home you usually have a thousand and one things to tell me and then a thousand more to cram into five minutes before I leave again. What’s going on?”
The young woman looked away, down at her hands as she picked the skin by her thumbs, a habit she only resorted to when nervous. “Nothing. I’m fine. I just….don’t feel like talking all that much. There’s nothing wrong with that.”
“Moon.” There was a warning note in the nickname at her defensive tone and Zefir’enel looked up, glaring at her sibling. “I don’t have to tell you anything.” she snapped and stood from her seat, going to get the food that had just dinged in the transporter. She opened the door and pulled it out, nearly slamming the tray on the counter before she started to unwrap it and got a fork from the drawer at hip-level. “I don’t need to tell you what’s going on in my life. If you were here more often you’d already know!”
The young woman regretted the words the minute she spoke them and she stopped her movement, shoulders slumping before she turned around slowly to see her brother’s hurt look.
“Bor’sanin, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have-”
“No, it’s okay. I understand.” Her brother was rising from his seat, grabbing his keys and Zefir’enel felt a thrill of panic sweep through her as she rushed forward and around the table, grabbing his arm.
“No! Don’t go! Please don’t go. I didn’t mean it, Bor, not really. Please stay.”
Her sibling looked down at her with a tired expression, a worn one and tucked her white hair behind her ear before his hand came to rest on her own. “I can’t stay, Moon. And it’s not because of you. I was going to have to leave later anyway.”
“But why now?” She’d known, she had, that he’d have to leave today. Bor’sanin was never so active, so friendly and playful than when he had to leave in an hour or so. It was like he tried to make the last few hours of time they had together the most memorable and fun ones and Zefir’enel had always appreciated it even as she knew what it meant and hated it.
“Do you honestly think I want to be here when father, mother and Firsa’leenya get back?” It was said jokingly, and Zefir’enel felt a smile twitch at her lips but the sadness in her heart was greater and she wrapped her arms around her brother, breathing in his scent.
“I will miss you.”
Her sibling sighed, hugging her back tightly. “I will miss you, too. And don’t feel bad about your outburst. It’s already forgiven, okay?”
Zefir’enel nodded and took a deep breath before stepping back and putting on a brave smile. “Stay safe.”
Bor’sanin smiled back and honked her nose. “I will. And you are going to give me some real answers when I get back, got it?”
The young woman batted his hand away, wrinkling her nose. “Got it. Now get going. You really don’t want to be here when those three get back.”
“Don’t I know it!”
“Oh, Bor’sanin, when ARE you going to find a pretty girl to marry and give me grandchildren?” Zefir’enel imitated their mother’s high-pitched voice as they walked toward the door and her brother groaned, shoving her shoulder. “Oh, stop, it hurts!”
The young woman laughed and opened the door before giving her brother another long hug. “I love you and I mean it, stay safe.”
“I will.”
He left then and Zefir’enel watched until her brother was out of sight before she shut the door and leaned back against it with a sigh, letting her head thump back against the dark wood. She loved that Bor’sanin chose to come visit when he would only see just her, but the house always felt much too lonely after he’d gone.
Just like her life.
----------------------------
Review?
No comments:
Post a Comment