90th Winter, 515AV
Despite the years she had dedicated to learning and broadening her understanding of the world, Ayatah was pretty slow on the uptake.
Of course she didn’t realise this. But Ayatah re Naphu did. In fact, it was her who had originally thought up this hypothesis. Her memories were identical to Ayatah’s, including those blisteringly humid years spent in the undodly jungle city of Taloba. And though the two-armed Eypharian could sense the attachment the Mixed Blood had for her home city, she certainly didn’t share it. The memories that Ayatah the Mixed Blood held so fondly were looked back on by her Eypharian self with derision and regret. Making love in the mud? Hardly romantic. Using that very mud as a skin treatment? Foul smelling and not exactly sanitary.
Yes, though they shared the same memories, Ayatah the Eypharian’s interpretation of them was vastly different. The same went for the Myrian half of Ayatah, who detested the very years in Zeltiva drinking, Kelp Beer with poets and scholars, that Ayatah the Eypharian had actually quite enjoyed. Though they were two sides of the same coin - and Ayatah the Mixed Blood the narrow edge in between them - the Myrian and the Eypharian did not have to agree on anything. And indeed, they hardly did.
The single entity that the two halves of Ayatah both adored was Kuame. Both recognised the impurity of his heritage, but they could hardly use this against the innocent lad. He was sweet and kind but eager to learn. In short, he was as close to perfection as the Gods would allow to walk upon this world.
But. Back to why Ayatah the Mixed Blood was less smart than her Eypharian counterpart (or half). For starters, the Mixed Blood was still doubting the very existence of her separate selves. To the Eypharian, this seemed ridiculous. Not only had the Mixed Blood actually had a conversation with that vile Myrian half (all whilst the Eypharian remained trapped inside the Mixed blood, stewing in her own regret and annoyance for missing out on this crucial moment), but surely Aya realised that her two halves had always been there? What - or who, more fittingly - did she think made her the whole being she was in day-to-day life? She may have been born and raised by Myrians, but that inner Eypharian was very much alive, very much Eypharian, and always had been.
Second to her confusion over the existence of her other halves was the Mixed Bloods desire to keep secrets from them. Even now, as the Eypharian padded around their home at night, she could feel the Mixed Blood pulling certain thoughts and memories into herself, even in sleep.
It’s useless! She felt like crying to the half-sleeping Mixed Blood, I am you, you are me! They were one and the same, and yet completely different.
The Eypharian pushed onwards. She picked through the paperwork that Ayatah kept stuffed in the bottom of the kitchen drawer, where she thought nobody would ever bother looking. It was this ludicrously obvious location that the Mixed Blood had decided to hide any documents pertaining to her father, the elusive and disappointing Rashak re Naphu.
The meeting with the ghost of her Great-Grandmother had been emotional and confusing for all three of the Ayatah’s - yes, the two halves existed even back then, they always had. The Myrian wanted to rip open the ghost’s throat (a fruitless exercise, the Eypharian had noticed, given the woman’s ghostliness, but it was equally pointless trying to talk sense into a raged Myrian). Ayatah the Mixed Breed had been equal parts repulsed and intrigued. And the Eypharian?
She had been delighted.
Despite the years she had dedicated to learning and broadening her understanding of the world, Ayatah was pretty slow on the uptake.
Of course she didn’t realise this. But Ayatah re Naphu did. In fact, it was her who had originally thought up this hypothesis. Her memories were identical to Ayatah’s, including those blisteringly humid years spent in the undodly jungle city of Taloba. And though the two-armed Eypharian could sense the attachment the Mixed Blood had for her home city, she certainly didn’t share it. The memories that Ayatah the Mixed Blood held so fondly were looked back on by her Eypharian self with derision and regret. Making love in the mud? Hardly romantic. Using that very mud as a skin treatment? Foul smelling and not exactly sanitary.
Yes, though they shared the same memories, Ayatah the Eypharian’s interpretation of them was vastly different. The same went for the Myrian half of Ayatah, who detested the very years in Zeltiva drinking, Kelp Beer with poets and scholars, that Ayatah the Eypharian had actually quite enjoyed. Though they were two sides of the same coin - and Ayatah the Mixed Blood the narrow edge in between them - the Myrian and the Eypharian did not have to agree on anything. And indeed, they hardly did.
The single entity that the two halves of Ayatah both adored was Kuame. Both recognised the impurity of his heritage, but they could hardly use this against the innocent lad. He was sweet and kind but eager to learn. In short, he was as close to perfection as the Gods would allow to walk upon this world.
But. Back to why Ayatah the Mixed Blood was less smart than her Eypharian counterpart (or half). For starters, the Mixed Blood was still doubting the very existence of her separate selves. To the Eypharian, this seemed ridiculous. Not only had the Mixed Blood actually had a conversation with that vile Myrian half (all whilst the Eypharian remained trapped inside the Mixed blood, stewing in her own regret and annoyance for missing out on this crucial moment), but surely Aya realised that her two halves had always been there? What - or who, more fittingly - did she think made her the whole being she was in day-to-day life? She may have been born and raised by Myrians, but that inner Eypharian was very much alive, very much Eypharian, and always had been.
Second to her confusion over the existence of her other halves was the Mixed Bloods desire to keep secrets from them. Even now, as the Eypharian padded around their home at night, she could feel the Mixed Blood pulling certain thoughts and memories into herself, even in sleep.
It’s useless! She felt like crying to the half-sleeping Mixed Blood, I am you, you are me! They were one and the same, and yet completely different.
The Eypharian pushed onwards. She picked through the paperwork that Ayatah kept stuffed in the bottom of the kitchen drawer, where she thought nobody would ever bother looking. It was this ludicrously obvious location that the Mixed Blood had decided to hide any documents pertaining to her father, the elusive and disappointing Rashak re Naphu.
The meeting with the ghost of her Great-Grandmother had been emotional and confusing for all three of the Ayatah’s - yes, the two halves existed even back then, they always had. The Myrian wanted to rip open the ghost’s throat (a fruitless exercise, the Eypharian had noticed, given the woman’s ghostliness, but it was equally pointless trying to talk sense into a raged Myrian). Ayatah the Mixed Breed had been equal parts repulsed and intrigued. And the Eypharian?
She had been delighted.