She grinned when he commented on how many questions she unleashed on him. He did ask if she had any, and, well, she did. She had plenty. Meeting Kanrath and Raikev had been Raiha’s primary reason for coming to Riverfall, and it had been a driving desire that burned within Kanikra ever since they had first met Soryn, the first of the two Akalak tutors that she would meet that stayed for any length of time. It had been Soryn that explained to them what was going on, about how they weren’t crazy - they were simply just two people in one body, two people that should support each other and work together. Kanikra had never been a team player. She still wasn’t. But regardless of the fact that it wasn’t... abnormal, anyway, for a Konti’s daughter to be raised by her mother and her mother’s family with an absence of a father-figure, Kanikra had always wondered about the father(s) that were not there. What Tanaha Sarasarri knew could be dispensed in treats for good behaviour to the point where Kanikra was content to let Raiha run around and ‘be good’ in order to find out more.
She was pretty certain that in these chimes since the battle had ended, she had spent more time listening, really listening, to one person than she had in years. Perhaps it was from the fact that he wasn’t speaking to her like she was some wretched Konti brat, or like she was some child that was deficient in her capabilities to process and understand. Maybe it was that they were talking about things that Kanikra really wanted to talk about, without the song and dance routine that Raiha went through to get information from people. Unless there was a game to be played or a mark to be made, Kanikra liked to go for the throat instead of wasting time. But at the same time, some of these questions were ones that she had been brooding on for years. After all, time she had, and plenty of it. Being born into emptiness left one with a lot of time to fill.
Raiha, too, was paying attention, Kanikra knew. Clearly, she was recovering from the shock of the fight, and the fact that they had forced a suvai through a man’s head. Sure, there was just nice, soft, spongy tissue there until they hit the top of the skull, but still. And in a little while, Raiha would get over the horror of it and accept that it had been necessary. Trial by fire might burn, but the scars were neat reminders. The moment you let anyone push you around was the moment they knew that they petching owned you. It always came down to the same thing. You did what you had to do. That was always the way of it. She had done what she had to do. Because if she hadn’t, this big long trip to Riverfall might have been for naught, and she would always be watching her back, and while she usually lived like that anyway, Kanikra did not need the added stress of knowing that there was at least one slimy son of a bitch who had made it personal. But it pleased her, at any rate, to know that Raiha was listening. Perhaps her sister would gain some understanding of the fact that things had to change. That, Kanikra felt, was probably asking too much.
As she listened, she watched him. Watched the way he picked the bodies clean, crushing the larynx of those who had survived the onslaught, where he put weight where and how. The casual way he had of ending the life of another did not bother her like it did Raiha. The bastards were getting exactly what they deserved, and it wasn’t anything that they hadn’t earned. And as Kanrath went from body to body, one by one by one, the need to heal stopped - simply because there was nothing left alive but her and her father and her sister’s dog, all of whom she could do nothing more for. She followed him when he motioned, Diallo trailing along behind her, nosing her hand. She squeezed his ear, tugging lightly, the way she had in play all that time ago. That seemed to be enough for him, and she just grinned down at the dog, though none of the lightness of the expression reached her eyes. But she sat beside him, twisting a little on her side so that she was facing him instead of looking straight ahead, so she could look at him full on. A tiny part of her still felt that this was too good to be true. Because anything that seemed to be too good to be true always was. That was her always present, glass-half-empty cynicism talking. Why can’t you just accept that occasionally, things really can be truly good in this life?
Because it doesn’t happen, Kanikra told Raiha emphatically. It does not happen. You are born wet, naked, and hungry. And then things get worse. That’s just the way of it.
They have our names. They know about us. They know about Mother. Give him the letter, Raiha suggested. It’s theirs, after all. It belongs to them. She gave it to us to give to them. Do it.
Are you telling me what to do?
Yes, came Raiha’s calm reply.
Bitch.
Takes one to know one. Clearly, the shock had worn off of her sister, or she was picking the time to actually grow a spine. It was different, that was for sure. Kanikra didn’t entirely mind as she rested her arm over the back of the bench and listened to what he said about strategy, nodding. Made sense. Good position, not something they were suited to trying to defend. She had often told Raiha that the best defense was a spirited offense, after all, and what offense could you launch from hiding amongst the cliffs? Who would let others destroy the defenses to ravage all within? And hell, then there was just launching things over it, like Kanrath said. That would have done it too, really. Her lips pursed, though, at the mention of her being used as a broodmare. Not in this lifetime. That, at least, was something that the two of them agreed upon. It does happen, Raiha interjected. About as often as Syna and Leth meet together once again, though, obviously...
The races he mentioned, Kanikra knew of. She had seen them in Mura - a lone Charoda with a monstrous creature that it used to help carry its goods, but she would never forget the vicious-looking tattooed female who had shown up on Mura. The look in her eyes when she looked at the blue-skinned girl was one that neither sister soul would forget. It was the look Kanikra knew well - the look of one who knew emotions were more of a handicap than a benefit. That was when she had known that she was not broken, like some would accuse her of being. She was not broken. She simply understood the weakness of others better than they could ever realize. Still, she wasn’t entirely certain she would ever want to face one of them just yet. And hearing Kanrath talking about them and open warfare, that meant that she had underestimated them and needed to pay far more attention to anything she heard about them. Learning was never ending, it seemed.
She stroked Diallo’s head as he talked of Tanaha. “That sounds a lot like her,” the girl-child was dry. Clearly, her relationship with her mother was not a good one. “You should have seen her face, though, when Raiha brought home Kefi, this vicious little kestrel about so big,” she gestured with her hands to show him the size of the little hawk. “She was pretty convinced that I was playing a practical joke on her and that it was me pretending to be Raiha that time. But I really do have a letter for you and Raikev from her,” she pulled her backpack to her lap and pulled it out. Throughout the long travel from Mura to Riverfall, it was remarkably uncreased, kept between two books all the way there. It was still sealed with pearlescent silvery wax.
Maybe she would find someone. She didn’t doubt that Raiha would. Herself, less so. She simply was not interested. The only relationships that were of value were strategic ones. But she had been wrong before, and today, the odds were not looking good for her so far. “That makes sense,” she rested her hair on her hand, playing with one of her long braids. “I was just wondering if you and Raikev had a hand in their being there. They always had good reasons, but they took an interest in us when others looked at us without knowing how to react or treat us.” Soryn had been the one to explain that they weren’t crazy, that they were simply two people in one. “Salazar we met in the Kulkuran. Raiha and I had decided to ask the proprietor there where we might find you. Didn’t explain why,” she shook her head slightly, leaving her braid alone to pinch the bridge of her nose. It was double pleasure to deceive the deceiver, after all. And she had gotten played like a fish on a line. “Still, that lump of shyke over there guessed.” She sighed, but scoffed at his comment about her going around bragging. “My lips are sealed... as proud and thankful that I am that you two aren’t wastes of air like some, we try to keep play our cards close to our chest. So no one will hear about it from us,” there was a quiet promise there. The kid liked her privacy. And she liked the sound of the secrets even more.
“Balance,” Kanikra mused, one hand massaging Diallo’s head. “I suppose it couldn’t hurt to try that. But it’s difficult to balance on a fractured foundation in the first place.” She was talking about her sister, though Raiha would have protested and said that what was sauce for the goose was sauce for the gander. If Raiha was broken, so was Kanikra. In a number of ways, they were the extremes of numerous spectrums - the hard part was reconciling those extremes into something that they could come with, and this was going to be something that was going to take their daughters a longer time to process. But Kanikra was stubborn. She would find a way to make it work for her.
Give him a hug, Raiha prodded her sister. You know you want to.
Have you chose this exact moment to lose your mind? Kanikra’s retort was swift.
No. I want to. I don’t call being carried a hug.
Depends on perspective, doesn’t it? No. I am not about to hug him.
He just said that we needed to find a balance, Kanikra. That we had to work together. That we won’t agree, and that’s okay, because it takes two halves to make a whole. We need each other.
You’re not going to leave this alone, are you? Kanikra sighed.
No.
Fine. Then knock yourself out.
Raiha found herself blinking and in control once again. It wasn’t harsh, the transferal, so that, at least, meant she wasn’t going to have a headache. But the dog looked up again, tongue lolling, as if knowing that the sisters had switched places. Dogs were smart, after all. Her gold eyes brightened just a bit, and she scooted over on the bench, and threw both arms around him, mindful of the injuries he had sustained in battle that were beyond her ability to fix, to heal, to repair. Her face went to his shoulder, and she just hugged him for a little while. But when she looked up, she was smiling. “Thank you.” That was Raiha again. “I’ll do my best not to let you down,” her smile got a little wistful, as one corner of her mouth turned up a little more than the other. But she had a feeling she probably would, anyway. By Kanikra’s standards, and possibly, probably by most Akalak, Raiha could be measured and found wanting.
But she’d try.
She only hoped that that would count for something.
She was pretty certain that in these chimes since the battle had ended, she had spent more time listening, really listening, to one person than she had in years. Perhaps it was from the fact that he wasn’t speaking to her like she was some wretched Konti brat, or like she was some child that was deficient in her capabilities to process and understand. Maybe it was that they were talking about things that Kanikra really wanted to talk about, without the song and dance routine that Raiha went through to get information from people. Unless there was a game to be played or a mark to be made, Kanikra liked to go for the throat instead of wasting time. But at the same time, some of these questions were ones that she had been brooding on for years. After all, time she had, and plenty of it. Being born into emptiness left one with a lot of time to fill.
Raiha, too, was paying attention, Kanikra knew. Clearly, she was recovering from the shock of the fight, and the fact that they had forced a suvai through a man’s head. Sure, there was just nice, soft, spongy tissue there until they hit the top of the skull, but still. And in a little while, Raiha would get over the horror of it and accept that it had been necessary. Trial by fire might burn, but the scars were neat reminders. The moment you let anyone push you around was the moment they knew that they petching owned you. It always came down to the same thing. You did what you had to do. That was always the way of it. She had done what she had to do. Because if she hadn’t, this big long trip to Riverfall might have been for naught, and she would always be watching her back, and while she usually lived like that anyway, Kanikra did not need the added stress of knowing that there was at least one slimy son of a bitch who had made it personal. But it pleased her, at any rate, to know that Raiha was listening. Perhaps her sister would gain some understanding of the fact that things had to change. That, Kanikra felt, was probably asking too much.
As she listened, she watched him. Watched the way he picked the bodies clean, crushing the larynx of those who had survived the onslaught, where he put weight where and how. The casual way he had of ending the life of another did not bother her like it did Raiha. The bastards were getting exactly what they deserved, and it wasn’t anything that they hadn’t earned. And as Kanrath went from body to body, one by one by one, the need to heal stopped - simply because there was nothing left alive but her and her father and her sister’s dog, all of whom she could do nothing more for. She followed him when he motioned, Diallo trailing along behind her, nosing her hand. She squeezed his ear, tugging lightly, the way she had in play all that time ago. That seemed to be enough for him, and she just grinned down at the dog, though none of the lightness of the expression reached her eyes. But she sat beside him, twisting a little on her side so that she was facing him instead of looking straight ahead, so she could look at him full on. A tiny part of her still felt that this was too good to be true. Because anything that seemed to be too good to be true always was. That was her always present, glass-half-empty cynicism talking. Why can’t you just accept that occasionally, things really can be truly good in this life?
Because it doesn’t happen, Kanikra told Raiha emphatically. It does not happen. You are born wet, naked, and hungry. And then things get worse. That’s just the way of it.
They have our names. They know about us. They know about Mother. Give him the letter, Raiha suggested. It’s theirs, after all. It belongs to them. She gave it to us to give to them. Do it.
Are you telling me what to do?
Yes, came Raiha’s calm reply.
Bitch.
Takes one to know one. Clearly, the shock had worn off of her sister, or she was picking the time to actually grow a spine. It was different, that was for sure. Kanikra didn’t entirely mind as she rested her arm over the back of the bench and listened to what he said about strategy, nodding. Made sense. Good position, not something they were suited to trying to defend. She had often told Raiha that the best defense was a spirited offense, after all, and what offense could you launch from hiding amongst the cliffs? Who would let others destroy the defenses to ravage all within? And hell, then there was just launching things over it, like Kanrath said. That would have done it too, really. Her lips pursed, though, at the mention of her being used as a broodmare. Not in this lifetime. That, at least, was something that the two of them agreed upon. It does happen, Raiha interjected. About as often as Syna and Leth meet together once again, though, obviously...
The races he mentioned, Kanikra knew of. She had seen them in Mura - a lone Charoda with a monstrous creature that it used to help carry its goods, but she would never forget the vicious-looking tattooed female who had shown up on Mura. The look in her eyes when she looked at the blue-skinned girl was one that neither sister soul would forget. It was the look Kanikra knew well - the look of one who knew emotions were more of a handicap than a benefit. That was when she had known that she was not broken, like some would accuse her of being. She was not broken. She simply understood the weakness of others better than they could ever realize. Still, she wasn’t entirely certain she would ever want to face one of them just yet. And hearing Kanrath talking about them and open warfare, that meant that she had underestimated them and needed to pay far more attention to anything she heard about them. Learning was never ending, it seemed.
She stroked Diallo’s head as he talked of Tanaha. “That sounds a lot like her,” the girl-child was dry. Clearly, her relationship with her mother was not a good one. “You should have seen her face, though, when Raiha brought home Kefi, this vicious little kestrel about so big,” she gestured with her hands to show him the size of the little hawk. “She was pretty convinced that I was playing a practical joke on her and that it was me pretending to be Raiha that time. But I really do have a letter for you and Raikev from her,” she pulled her backpack to her lap and pulled it out. Throughout the long travel from Mura to Riverfall, it was remarkably uncreased, kept between two books all the way there. It was still sealed with pearlescent silvery wax.
Tanaha’s Letter :
Maybe she would find someone. She didn’t doubt that Raiha would. Herself, less so. She simply was not interested. The only relationships that were of value were strategic ones. But she had been wrong before, and today, the odds were not looking good for her so far. “That makes sense,” she rested her hair on her hand, playing with one of her long braids. “I was just wondering if you and Raikev had a hand in their being there. They always had good reasons, but they took an interest in us when others looked at us without knowing how to react or treat us.” Soryn had been the one to explain that they weren’t crazy, that they were simply two people in one. “Salazar we met in the Kulkuran. Raiha and I had decided to ask the proprietor there where we might find you. Didn’t explain why,” she shook her head slightly, leaving her braid alone to pinch the bridge of her nose. It was double pleasure to deceive the deceiver, after all. And she had gotten played like a fish on a line. “Still, that lump of shyke over there guessed.” She sighed, but scoffed at his comment about her going around bragging. “My lips are sealed... as proud and thankful that I am that you two aren’t wastes of air like some, we try to keep play our cards close to our chest. So no one will hear about it from us,” there was a quiet promise there. The kid liked her privacy. And she liked the sound of the secrets even more.
“Balance,” Kanikra mused, one hand massaging Diallo’s head. “I suppose it couldn’t hurt to try that. But it’s difficult to balance on a fractured foundation in the first place.” She was talking about her sister, though Raiha would have protested and said that what was sauce for the goose was sauce for the gander. If Raiha was broken, so was Kanikra. In a number of ways, they were the extremes of numerous spectrums - the hard part was reconciling those extremes into something that they could come with, and this was going to be something that was going to take their daughters a longer time to process. But Kanikra was stubborn. She would find a way to make it work for her.
Give him a hug, Raiha prodded her sister. You know you want to.
Have you chose this exact moment to lose your mind? Kanikra’s retort was swift.
No. I want to. I don’t call being carried a hug.
Depends on perspective, doesn’t it? No. I am not about to hug him.
He just said that we needed to find a balance, Kanikra. That we had to work together. That we won’t agree, and that’s okay, because it takes two halves to make a whole. We need each other.
You’re not going to leave this alone, are you? Kanikra sighed.
No.
Fine. Then knock yourself out.
Raiha found herself blinking and in control once again. It wasn’t harsh, the transferal, so that, at least, meant she wasn’t going to have a headache. But the dog looked up again, tongue lolling, as if knowing that the sisters had switched places. Dogs were smart, after all. Her gold eyes brightened just a bit, and she scooted over on the bench, and threw both arms around him, mindful of the injuries he had sustained in battle that were beyond her ability to fix, to heal, to repair. Her face went to his shoulder, and she just hugged him for a little while. But when she looked up, she was smiling. “Thank you.” That was Raiha again. “I’ll do my best not to let you down,” her smile got a little wistful, as one corner of her mouth turned up a little more than the other. But she had a feeling she probably would, anyway. By Kanikra’s standards, and possibly, probably by most Akalak, Raiha could be measured and found wanting.
But she’d try.
She only hoped that that would count for something.