32nd Winter, 515AV
“There ain’t no party like an Eypharian party because an Eypharian party is dutifully decorated and always a blast.”
Ayatah re Naphu murmured the little ditty to herself as she pranced about her apartment. It was dark – midnight, in fact – but even in the dreary light she could see that the place was not only messy but there was not one hint of decoration. She tsked to herself yet again, shaking her head in disappointment. Tomorrow was Kuame’s birthday! Where were the banners? The bunting?
She gasped.
Where was the cake?!
“Lazy, lazy Myrian.” She muttered, throwing a glowering look back towards the main bedroom of the flat. Beyond that door slept Ayatah the Mixed Blood. And, rather worryingly, deeper within her slept Ayatah the Myrian. Ayatah the Eypharian, the woman standing in the flat right now, was quite sure it was the latter of her selves who was to blame for the lack of birthday decorations.
The madness of this internal battle now taking place outside the sleeping Mixed Blood seem to elude the Eypharian, who was far more concerned why her six arms now only appeared to be two.
But it was no matter. A woman of her breeding could survive with no hands and still do a far better job at decorating and baking cakes than Ayatah the Myrian. She glanced down to the small collection of presents that she had bought earlier that day. All were for the Kuame, the birthday boy as of tomorrow. The presents included a toy sword (a gift pressed onto Ayatah’s mind by her very Myrian self) and a crisp white shirt (one that her Eypharian self had simply refused not to buy). Together with these two diverse gifts were also some chocolates, biscuits, a toy tiger and a blanket. Kuame liked soft things and appreciated the comfort they bought to him.
He was a sweet child, despite being of bad blood. There was no doubt in Aya’s Eypharian mind that there was no hint of Eypharian in his heritage. Myrian; yes. Eypharian? Certainly not. His features were too blunt and square. His eyes, however, given their bright blueness, made her think of the Benshira folk her people shared their desert home with.
“There ain’t no party like an Eypharian party because an Eypharian party is dutifully decorated and always a blast.”
Ayatah re Naphu murmured the little ditty to herself as she pranced about her apartment. It was dark – midnight, in fact – but even in the dreary light she could see that the place was not only messy but there was not one hint of decoration. She tsked to herself yet again, shaking her head in disappointment. Tomorrow was Kuame’s birthday! Where were the banners? The bunting?
She gasped.
Where was the cake?!
“Lazy, lazy Myrian.” She muttered, throwing a glowering look back towards the main bedroom of the flat. Beyond that door slept Ayatah the Mixed Blood. And, rather worryingly, deeper within her slept Ayatah the Myrian. Ayatah the Eypharian, the woman standing in the flat right now, was quite sure it was the latter of her selves who was to blame for the lack of birthday decorations.
The madness of this internal battle now taking place outside the sleeping Mixed Blood seem to elude the Eypharian, who was far more concerned why her six arms now only appeared to be two.
But it was no matter. A woman of her breeding could survive with no hands and still do a far better job at decorating and baking cakes than Ayatah the Myrian. She glanced down to the small collection of presents that she had bought earlier that day. All were for the Kuame, the birthday boy as of tomorrow. The presents included a toy sword (a gift pressed onto Ayatah’s mind by her very Myrian self) and a crisp white shirt (one that her Eypharian self had simply refused not to buy). Together with these two diverse gifts were also some chocolates, biscuits, a toy tiger and a blanket. Kuame liked soft things and appreciated the comfort they bought to him.
He was a sweet child, despite being of bad blood. There was no doubt in Aya’s Eypharian mind that there was no hint of Eypharian in his heritage. Myrian; yes. Eypharian? Certainly not. His features were too blunt and square. His eyes, however, given their bright blueness, made her think of the Benshira folk her people shared their desert home with.