Flashback Parting Gift (Ayatah)

[Razkar]

”They are impressed with you... even Bennik.”

The cheers and applause from the Scattered Bones when they returned made Razkar smile, as did Quinneth's slow, measured but glowing words. But only when he felt Ayatah's fingers on his palm and heard her soft, proud words did Razkar truly grin.

There was a whirl of people around them and he felt he start to move away, but his hand held onto hers and when she turned to see the reason for his sudden force, he pressed his lips to hers.

"If I can make you proud of me in the eyes of your clan," he said softly, eyes as sincere as he hoped his words sounded, "then my day has not been wasted."

"Oh, such romance. It's been an age since I heard the like."

That did not come from Ayatah, and the two lovebirds nearly jumped and looked around at the source of it. They found a grinning Quinneth standing there, clearly relishing the sudden flush that came across both of them. Razkar's mouth worked silently for a few moments before the matriarch finally rolled her eyes dramatically.

"Calm down, boy. Wonderful theory, the idea of losing your hearing as you get older, but it doesn't work for all of us. Now come along, we have need for you in the kitchen..." She waved her hand dismissively as he looked to Ayatah, infuriatingly knowing his next question again. "Oh, she'll be along shortly, I'm sure, but her mother needs her to help with the firewood. Off you go, young lady. I'll take good care of your male..."

Well, not much arguing with that, was there? They were separated in short order and soon Razkar found himself in a steamy longhouse dominated by shelves of pots and a massive fireplace in the middle of it under an open roof. The quiet terror Razkar felt at being around this frighteningly insightful old female was gradually eroded by the... aroma emanating from the pot.

"What is that?"

"The beginnings of a deer stew, my lad." Quinneth said, helping a pair of younger females bring the vegetables to order. "Your first kill, in fact. Bennik's parents can skin a deer as fast as you like."

But not all of it was ready for cinsumption, as Razkar soon found out. Half of the animal was still laying on a long, wide chopping board taking up most of one side of the longhouse. Quinneth handed him a heavy craving knife and nodded to it.

"Well, I suppose you know what to do, Razkar. Get to it."

"Yes, mistress."

Razkar could have sworn he saw her roll her eyes again as she bustled away, but he wasn't sure. Still, he had a tool, a task and raw materials, so he was happy as could be expected. He cast a critical eye over the bloody, skinned and bisected animal... grabbed a foreleg, held it ready...

Brought the blade down and cut through bone and sinew with a loud thunk. He repeated it several times until the carcass was much more manageable, then found a different blade. Ah, perfect. Long and thick enough to let him put some weight behind it, fine enough to work around chunks of flesh and gristle.

Humming softly and enjoying himself despite everything, Razkar smiled and started to carve...

[Ayatah]

It was hard to not laugh at Quinneth, really. After spending the best part of her life fighting, killing and proving herself worthy of the Goddess-Queen, she now was enjoying those golden years. And she had retired into these final years of her life (though she had been in these ‘final’ years for nearly two decades already) with fond memories and a warm heart. It was clear that her idea of a good past time was embarrassing the younger ones of the clan with dry humour. She had suffered many losses throughout her time - her love, four of her eight children, dear friends - but she still managed to delight in the simple day-to-day living of their people.

In her youth, she had embodied that ‘savage’ stereotype of their people: despising outsiders, marching along with he army to exterminate the jungle of Dhani and other abominations. However, as she aged and slowed, her attention turned to healing and medicine, and of course watching her grandchildren and great-grandchildren grow up. It had been many years since she had killed another living thing. But sometimes - like if that old scaled enemy harmed a fellow Scattered Bones - you’d see a flash of rage in those soft old eyes that paid homage to the warrior she had once been.

And she was patient. Oh, so patient. When Paira had returned home pregnant (by this point near fit to burst), it had been Quinneth who defended her actions. The old woman’s strong defensiveness towards the mixed-breed baby that grew within her granddaughter’s womb had surprised the rest of the clan - even Paira herself. But after tragically losing a newborn of her own many years ago, Quinneth had learnt appreciate that every child born from a Myrian woman was a son or daughter of Myri.

She left Razkar to finish off the deer, pausing to tap the shoulder of her Great-Grandson and tell him to go help their gust.

Bennik was typically a frustrated man: it was hard not to be in the Myrian culture. He had spent the last several years protecting his people, slowly climbing the ladder of military positions. But there was always some damn woman that overtook him, and most likely she’d have less experience or skill. And of course, should he complain -- well, the chances of his having offspring would dramatically decrease suffice to say. His innate annoyance and anger were the reasons he joined the army in the first place: marching and training and killing were perfect ways to stomp or hack out of that frustration. Not that he wasn’t disciplined… He was, just… moodily so.

So he looked far from thrilled about being in the hut with Razkar. But after the two males had watched each other warily, he sighed and grabbed a butchering knife, conceding defeat.

”You love her, don’t you?” The words came after a few painfully silent moments, and surprisingly, they were far from cold. Instead, there were twinged with concern, almost worry. ”Because…. Aya has not had great experiences with men in the past. They -- like her, but treat her worse than shyke after they've got what they wanted...” His jaw twitched, and his knuckle turned white as he gripped the butchering blade and slid it along the soft deer meat.

- - - - -

”Can we have flowers?” Ismae called out, twirling around artfully as she ran ahead of her mother and sister.

”For what?”

The little girl turned to face Ayatah and giggled, ”when you can Razkar say your vows, stupid.”

Ayatah spluttered a nonsense reply, and Paira laughed heartily. Their people did not have marriage as such, but clans had their own little rituals to signify a coupling. The Scattered Bones had a family celebration, with music and dancing (and of course, flowers). The Myrian pair would say their vows, and then commemorate the love they had with tattoos.

”No flowers,” Ayatah said eventually, shaking her head despite Ismae’s pouts and whines. ”Not anytime soon, anyway!”

They were back now, and laying the firewood they'd found in a circular pattern on the bonfire ready for lighting. Ismae continued to whinge, and only when Ayatah was getting truly exasperated did Paira send her youngest child off to play. When the youngster had ran off, she turned to her other daughter and winked, "you best go and play with your friend, too."

Ayatah rolled her eyes, but grinned all the same. Hey, she didn't need telling twice. She practically bounded towards the (aptly named) Meat hut. She parted her way through the dried vines that was the door to the hut, eyes alight with excitement had being reunited once again. "I have just been terrorised by my little -- oh." She frowned. Bennik was not the person she was so excited to see, and her face made that much clear. Her dark eyes flashed from her cousin, to her lover - lingering just seconds longer on the latter. Myri, the attraction she felt for Razkar was intense! Those tattoos and scars, those broad shoulders and muscles...

And he was hers. Hers!

"We're... bonding!" Bennik eventually stated, made extremely uncomfortable by the way his dear cousin looked at the other man so... hungrily.

|| Ayatah's speech || Ayatah's thoughts || Others' speech ||

[Razkar]

”You love her, don’t you?”

Razkar was enjoying the silence and, to a degree, the monotony of their task. Both males were far from friends and the work helped them to at least be around each other wthout bickering of complaining. It was a clean and quiet production line: Razkar would joint the larger pieces of deer, pass them to Bennik, and Ayatah's cousin would slice them into smaller cutlets. For the better part of an hour there was naught but the grind and thunk of meat and metal and bone, and then he spoke.

Razkar turned to the male, but did not see any confrontation there. Just a wary, earnest search for the truth.

”Because…. Aya has not had great experiences with men in the past. They -- like her, but treat her worse than shyke after they've got what they wanted...”

He saw the anger that flushed through Bennik and tightened his muscles. Saw it and felt the same as he held the heavy cleaver. The idea that anyone would seduce and abandon such a creature as Ayatah was enough to conjure a killing mist before his eyes. Vivid and pleasurable fantasies of tracking those males down and killing them by inches danced before him... but there was a question to be answered.

He chopped the cleaver own hard, embedding it in the board... and stood staring at it, finding and forming his response.

"I... It feels like love." He said slowly, staring at the cleaver like it focused his vocabulary. "I've never... never felt it before. I've been with women," he said dismissively, grimacing at the recollection of those handful of meaningless trysts "but there was no spark there. No real affection. Just lust and... convenience."

He turned and looked at Bennik, frowning and as earnest as the other male.

"How can you know what something is if you've never felt its like before? I've never been in love, so what do I know about it?"

Bennik shrugged, and answered honestly. "If love were easy to recognize, or commonplace, it would not have the power it does, I suppose."

"Yes. Yes, I suppose you're right..." Razkar's eyes dropped again, and when they rose a second time, there was a new conviction in them. "I do love her. I take joy from her happiness and if she were to ever have enemies, they would be mine the same moment their intent towards her was known. I want what is best for her, even..."

He frowned as if some new knowledge was bubbling up from his thoughts. Razkar had learned from some of the elders that in every being was the capacity to know wisdom, and often the kernels of the great answers to the great questions were already in your own head. You just needed to know how to dig them out.

This felt like one of those moments.

"... even if what was best was a life without me in it. I love her enough to... to let her go, if I had to. But our path is together, I am sure of it. For as long as she will have me, and as long as I remain worthy of her, I will love her."

He turned back to his work.

"And after, I think..."

Another long pause, and he heard an intake of breath as Bennik got ready to reply again but a blur of movement from the vine door broke the moment and they both turned.

Goddess... when she walked into the lodge it was like a gust of fragrant, wonderful air came with her. He inhaled out of instinct, muscles loosening and heart beating faster at her scent, the sight of her, smile coming unbidden to his lips.

"I have just been terrorised by my little -- oh."

Ah. Man moment. Awkward... but fortunately Bennik diffused anything before it could be said, picking up a mountainous plate of deer meat and walking to the door. Her cousin cast him an inquiring look and he just flicked a glance at Razkar.

"We're... bonding!"

Razkar's eyesbrows shot up so hard they must have made a sound, but before he could reply the other male was out the door and they were alone.

Alone. Guess how long it took for them to fly together?

When he broke their kiss, he found that giddy smile on her face and reciprocated it in kind. He caressed her face and then his eyes widened at the realization they were still covered in guts and blood. Blushing and wiping his hands clean, he looked back up at her.

"Time for lunch, isn't it? And how were your chores?"

[Ayatah]

Ayatah was as much taken aback by Bennik’s statement as Razkar himself seemed to be. She opened her mouth, most likely to enquire whether she had heard him right, but before she could piece together a sentence, Bennik had gone. A bemused smile was her answer to his sudden departure.

Only to be wiped of her face when she and her lover realised they were alone.

Blood, meat, sweat and sex. A… strange combination, to say the least.

"Time for lunch, isn't it? And how were your chores?"

She giggled (actually giggled) and brushed a piece of - perhaps it was liver - from his shoulder. There was something incredibly titillating about being so… naughty in what was effectively the clan kitchen, though the lodge certainly lacked any technology save for knives and pots.

Shrugging on her clothes, Ayatah’s dark eyes rolled in their sockets, ”Ismae was a nightmare. She was so busy choosing flowers for -- well, our ceremony.” She became distracted by a blood strain on the very bottom of her pelvis. After furiously wiping it away, she realised what sentence she had finished with, ”Not-like-there-is-one-anytime-soon! She’s simply… imaginative.”

Marriage and weddings may not particularly exist in the Myrian culture, but the ceremonies they had were of great significance. Should a couple - however young - embark on one, it would be expected that they would stay together until one of them died. And for a race where the life span could be well over a century long, ‘until death do us part’ usually meant a long time.

”Lunch is ready, what are you two doing in there?”

Shyke! They hurried to get the rest of their clothes. Ayath was just fastening the last button on her leather shorts just as Paira’s dark face appeared at the entrance to the hut.

Her mother glanced from Ayatah to Razkar, then back again. She frowned, slightly perturbed as to why her daughter was covered in blood, with red hand prints on her waist, back and thighs. The two young Myrians stood sheepishly, avoiding her questioning gaze.

And then slowly, the bikka dropped.

”Oh -- Myri! She disappeared as quickly as she had appeared, but a cackling laughter could be heard fading away as she joined the rest of the clan at the bonfire.

”We… are not going to hear the end of this.” She said, not knowing whether to laugh or cry with embarrassment. The Scattered Bones were certainly relaxed about intimacies; it was quite common for them to tease each other about recent sexual escapades. But Ayatah had never before been on the receiving end of it. I’ll never make fun of my cousins again she promised falsely.

The young couple eventually made it out of the hut just as lunch was served. Despite the fact they had just about cleaned themselves up, more than two-dozen bemused faces turned to greet them.

”Momma says you and Raz were playing in there…. Why?”

The question was answered by a chorus of laughter.

|| Ayatah's speech || Ayatah's thoughts || Others' speech ||

[Razkar]

”Ismae was a nightmare. She was so busy choosing flowers for -- well, our ceremony.”

Razkar had no idea how far their lust would go when they lunged towards each other like dogs in heat, but he had been... not dissatisfied. Stunned, though, would be a better word. Their hands and lips roamed of their own accord and before they'd come up for air after their first kiss, half their clothes were off and they were... well...

He was still grinning at the very vivid and recent memories when those words hit him like an ice-cold punch in the crotch.

"C-Ceremony?!"

”Not-like-there-is-one-anytime-soon! She’s simply… imaginative.”

Razkar actually felt the relief fly off him like a weight, even though he could see that reaction was probably not entirely what she wanted to see. A glimmer of concern flecked her eyes and he held up a hand.

"Oh, thank Myri... I-I didn't mean, er, that we won't... if you're, um..." He frowned, looking more like a confused boy despite what he looked like at that moment, overheated and half-naked. Finally he just shook his head and smiled. "You know what I mean. Just... a lot to take in. Have you seen my sandals? I don't-"

”Lunch is ready, what are you two doing in there?”

Aaaaaand there was the second punch. You've got to love those one-two combinations, and when Razkar's terrified (yes, and that point it was something close to terror) gaze saw a confused Paira standing there, he felt it impact him.

In the same place, too.

Dont work it out, don't work it out, we were just... checking for mosquitoes?

”Oh -- Myri!"

Razkar made a tiny little sound in the back of his throat as her face morphed into disbelief and she vanished, only for a round of laughter to assail his ears moments later. It was like the third punch of the chime: gossip traveled faster than a jumping deer among Myrians. Within a bell, the entirety of the Scattered Bones would know this little peccadillo.

And probably a good chunk of Taloba, too.

”We… are not going to hear the end of this.”

"No, of course we will," Razkar said from behind the hands that covered his face, "We have to die at some point..."

A very loud silence followed, and it was broken by them laughing. It started small, almost like a cough, but eventually it spread, infectious and audible relief, until they were both hugging each other and giggling and laughing and kissing all at once.

They stood there for a long chime, just enjoying the press of each others' bodies. Razkar closed his eyes and lost himself in the feel of her skin, her warmth, just... her.

"I've worked up quite a hunger, love," he growled, knowing she loved the sound of his husky voice, and patted her rear playfully, "Let's eat."

Of course, there would be no mercy for the insatiable youngsters. Razkar could feel the bemused, amused, disapproving and impressed (that came from the older females and the younger males, mostly) looks directed at them as they stepped to the bonfire where the deer was sizzling. They'd barely taken their seats before it when Tronx marched up to them, face set in an expression of utter seriousness.

”Momma says you and Raz were playing in there. Why?”

Laughter exploded from every corner and Razkar did his best to look for a nice, deep hole to throw himself into. His face bloomed the color of fresh blood and he looked to Ayatah... who was already laughing despite herself. He soon found himself joining in, and when he saw that even Bennik was holding back a chortle, he knew he was safe.

Lunch was served and then some. Chunks of grilled and roasted deer, vegetables and boiled rice in steaming platters that were passed around. The Scattered Bones were similar to the Shorn Skulls in one respect: the elders and females at first. No exceptions. But Razkar was happy to wait, as long as he had Aya next to him.

But even as he chewed his food, all the more delicious because he knew it had been killed by his own hand, he felt an awful creeping sadness start to rise in him, only enhanced by a flickering glance at the noon sun, now beginning to dip.

Be back to the barracks by nightfall on the tenth day. That was what Rehkuna said. Not long left...

[Ayatah]

It was not Tronx’s deadpan question that made Ayatah laugh, but the deep redness that flushed over Razkar’s face accompanied by a look of dismay. She was sure that her own cheeks were just as pink - it was hard not to be embarrassed when such a topic was bought up in front of family. But these were the final bells of their time together, and she would enjoy them. So, she laughed.

Tronx, however, was not amused. He stomped his foot, folded his arms, frustrated that his question had stirred such hilarity from his family. He repeated and reworded the question, but each time, only howls of laugher answered him. Thoroughly annoyed, the young lad stomped to sit with the rest of the children, some of whom were also laughing, despite not exactly knowing why.

After the laughter had died down, Ayatah listened quietly to her clan’s chatter. Not a huge amount had happened since she had departed for the Kandukta those not-so-many days ago, but it was always good to hear pieces of clan gossip. Roseane wanted to go hunting despite the fact she could give birth any moment, and the clan healer swore that she had created a new anti-septic poultice - but could not remember the ingredients. Yes, those familiar voices and sounds stirred a warmth in Ayatah, but as she glanced above them, her smile faltered.

Syna was beginning her descent. Already? It seems much too soon…

She cast a look to her lover, slid her empty bowl aside and subtly closed the distance between the two of them. It gave her some relief to just feel that warm skin against hers. They needed to make the most of what little time they had left, but sometimes, grand romantic gestures were not enough. Instead, smaller tokens of affection, like sidling up and linking hands quietly were just as meaningful -- if not more so.

”I’ll miss you…” she muttered, and as soon as those words left her mouth, Ayatah realised that she had not said them before. They were true, of course, but she had never actually vocally admitted them until now. She smiled self-consciously, momentarily slipping back into the skin of that gangly young girl who glinted in the sun and was far too uncoordinated to spar against her stockier brethren. ”We -- er, do not have long to go…”

|| Ayatah's speech || Ayatah's thoughts || Others' speech ||

[Razkar]

”I’ll miss you. We -- er, do not have long to go…”

Razkar felt those smooth, tapered fingers slide between his own and squeeze. He smiled, thinking that as long as he could have that feeling, all the others were just a bonus. That she was there, and cared... that was enough. He sighed and turned to her, pressing his body closer to hers and kissing her forehead.

He whispered in her ear, trying and failing to keep the sad resignation out of his voice.

"In the span of things, Aya... we never do." He looked down at her with a smirk, trying to offset the bleak statement, and nuzzled her nose briefly, mischievously. "So we best make do with what time we have."

Lunch went on and on until the sun was noticeably lower in the sky, yet there was always some joke or anecdote or tasty tit-bit of news that needed to be relayed or told again and again. Razkar was amazed. His clan was easily three times larger than the Scattered Bones, but these people... they could talk for thirty times that. He supposed it was part of the deal with living in Taloba: you heard everything, and everything was shared.

The male shook his head and ripped another chunk out of his deer meat. No point dwelling on the future, he thought. It will come in due time...

And it did. Eventually.

Razkar seemed to blink and he was standing at the entrance of their property, most of the Scattered Bones arrayed in front of him. Paira and Bennik and Quinneth and Tronx and Ismae and... all those people who were strangers a day before and now... what? Friends?

Family? They were certainly looking at him like they were, even Bennik (though that was more the look you reserved for your arsehole brother who bummed bikkas and never paid them back).

"We would send you with food, Raz," Quinneth said, clasping one of his hands as Ayatah stood next to him, "But we know you'll have rations at the Barracks..."

And despite the words, he saw her other hands slide a cloth-covered morsel of deer jerky into his belt, out of sight, black eyes winking once as she did so.

"Still... never know when you might need real food..."

Razkar chuckled and he felt it, he really it. He meant it and his eyes sparkled and he was happy this strange, wise woman played with him so... but deep in his core, he felt a void yawning wider. Goodbyes. He was never great with them, and now he had to say goodbye to her.

But not until she walked him right up to those damn Barracks, so he could savor every second he got with her.

[Ayatah]

Ayatah watched her family bid their farewells, feeling strangely alien in her own home. She would return before nightfall, so the goodbyes were reserved for Razkar, and he alone. She loved that her family had accepted him so easily, but after their story, who wouldn’t? He had saved her life, and for that, the Scattered Bones would be entirely in his debt. But watching her Great-Grandmother, cousins and siblings say goodbye to him merely emphasised what was to come; he was leaving, but not she.

All her family - save for Quinneth, of course - gifted him with a clap on the back and a general wish of ‘good luck’, ‘try to survive’, ‘don’t eat the fish’. When it came to Bennik, her cousin shuffled his feet, still mistrusting this new male, but appreciating that he meant huge amounts to Ayatah. ”I will perhaps see you on patrol, or the barracks,” he said, standing formally like one does when marching. Then his demeanour relaxed, and that familial smirk crossed his lips, ”I’ll try to go easy on you - no special treatment, though.”

Finally, it was Paira’s turn. The older woman looked from Ayatah to Razkar, and her dark eyes settled on the latter. By this point, the other Scattered Bones (apart from Quinneth, prying as ever) had returned to their own tasks. Ayatah’s attention piqued with interest and she stepped forwards. This was her mother’s blessing as much as her farewell.

”It was nice to meet you, Raz.” She began, and then paused. It was her duty - and pleasure - as a mother to give her sanction or support for a daughter’s relationship. But that did not mean she knew what to say; Paira had always been stuck for words, where her half-Eypharian daughter was full of witty comebacks and clever little speeches. She sighed jaggedly and started again, ”I hope you know what Ayatah means to me, young man. She was born without a father, for all intents and purposes. So for the first decade of her life, it was just the two of us.” Of course in their culture, no mother and child were left alone (unless they were exiled), but it was quite uncommon for a female to raise a child as the sole parent. Most females paired with a male to continue their linage, but Paira had not until her first-born had been older.

”So… Look after her. She cares about you hugely, I can tell. And I am so glad that she has found someone who loves her despite her -- heritage. So yes, I give the two of you my blessing. But.” She held up a finger, and her tone changed to just threatening, ”if you hurt here, I will make sure you never roll around in blood and guts with another woman.”

And with that… cheerful image, Paira clasped a hand on the young male’s shoulder. Those dark eyes were softer now, but her words still clung to the air. She had meant them, and anyone who doubted her sincerety was probably one fletching short of an arrow.

Ayatah shuffled sideways, touching his arm softly. ”That… was… pleasant.” She said slowly. In truth, she knew the importance of what her mother had said. Paira accepted and approved, and now the rest was up to them. There was nobody else to blame if the pairing failed, no mother-in-law that could be scapegoated, or even a mardy cousin. This was now their responsibility.

”Let’s go,” She said, interlinking her fingers with his and heading down that pathway flecked with bones once more.

|| Ayatah's speech || Ayatah's thoughts || Others' speech ||

[Razkar]

Hands were clasped and Tronx even puffed out his chest and beat his hand across it like he'd seen Bennik do on parade once or twice. His father smacked him on the back of his head for it, though.

"When you've earned it," the older Myrian had growled, "then you can do it."

Bennik definitely had earned it, though, a career warrior with the army of Taloba, and when he and Razkar stood before each other, it was with much more respect than when they first met.

”I will perhaps see you on patrol, or the barracks. I’ll try to go easy on you - no special treatment, though.”

Razkar smiled wryly, feeling a kinship with the male that only fellow soldiers could feel. He extended his hand and they clasped firmly.

"I wouldn't expect anything else."

"My Myri guide your hand..." Bennik said with a spark in his eyes.

"... and Dira you blades." Razkar finished the old Myrian saying, and walked before Ayatah's mother at last

”It was nice to meet you, Raz. I hope you know what Ayatah means to me, young man. She was born without a father, for all intents and purposes. So for the first decade of her life, it was just the two of us.”

Razkar nodded, but felt his eyes look down as if in a shared shame for his own gender. The idea of a father leaving his child was... unthinkable, at least to the vast majority of Myrians. Before Myri united them, even before they formed the clans that lasted until that day, family had always been the rock of their existence. The bonds between parents and children. To turn ons back on that...

Razkar silently thanked the Goddess-Queen for the blessing he recieved in the form of Yurta and Zek.

”So… look after her. She cares about you hugely, I can tell. And I am so glad that she has found someone who loves her despite her -- heritage. So yes, I give the two of you my blessing. But if you hurt here, I will make sure you never roll around in blood and guts with another woman.”

There was a heavy, wet sound, and it took a few moments for Razkar to realize it was him swallowing. There was a good-natured humor in Paira's eyes, an amusement at what she had found them in, but lurking under it like a crocodile under the surface of a stream was a sincere warning. Not the bravado boasting of a male (or female, in their culture), but the steel-shod promise of pain that only a parent could truly give.

"I... I understand, Mistress Paira."

She cocked an eyebrow, half-doubting but knowing in that sad, resigned way that she had little choice in the matter, and nodded. With that, there was nothing left to say...

”That… was… pleasant. Let’s go.”

Razkar felt the bones crunch under his feet along with dirt and sand and stone. Looking down, he realized for the first time that most of the pathway was, in fact, bone fragments. He wondered idly how many years, decades, even centuries it had required to lay such a thick carpet on the long path. But soon they were at an end of it, and the towering ziggurats of central Taloba loomed up before them.

They did not speak as they meandered through the choked streets, passing and weaving through carts and stalls and a sea of chattering, busy Myrians. Fear had gripped both of them now, tight as they held onto each others' hands and wished for some silent calamity that would grant them more time together.

But things were as they were, according to whatever inscrutable design the Goddess-Queen had laid in place. In due time, with the sun starting to redden in the sky, lowering and lowering to kiss the Watchtower, the young Myrians found themselves before the Barracks of the army of Taloba.

Chattering and shouting, even distant screams from inside. The harsh thwack of practice weapons on each other, as well as flesh and bone. He even recognized some of those voices, roaring commands and insults. The smell of leather and sweat and fresh bruises...

His home. His place of purpose and duty and honor. And now, it seemed like a prison. An exile.

Razkar sighed and held Ayatah close to him, wanting to remember every inch of her, every dram of warmth and the scent of her hair.

"My love... I must go..."

[Ayatah]

Taloba was a huge city, Ayatah knew this all too well. As a child, she had ran amongst it’s crowds, and gotten so lost that she had had to wail and sob until her mother came to find her. But now, as she crossed the length of the Myrian city from her home, the place seemed so incredibly… tiny

It was as if they had sprinted to the barracks, but Ayatah knew all too well that they had not. Instead, the young couple had stepped tentatively, slowly. Each footstep bought them closer to their separation, and it was inevitable, but that didn’t mean that couldn’t bide their time.

And yet there they stood, outside the garrison hat served as housing for the militant recruits. Ayatah had spent three years of her life within its walls, and remembered her service fondly. Despite the harsh training and the demanding instructors, serving their Goddess-Queen had given Ayatah pride and joy. Killing was pointless unless there was a reason for it, after all.

"My love... I must go..."

She leaned into the embrace, her hands resting on his chest, her head under his chin. She was silent initially, listening to the sound of his heartbeat. Even the dull clatterings of metal on metal from inside the barracks seemed to fade away, just for that precious moment.

I could stay like this forever…

”I know…” Her voice was quiet, almost scared. They may have agreed to ‘try’, but worries still haunted Ayatah. She could not imagine her feelings changing, not anytime soon anyway. But what about his? What if she remained so doted, but his feelings waned overtime?

It is silly to panic over things that have not even happened. Again, her thoughts seemed to take the voice of Paira, and when Ayatah stepped away from their embrace, there was a new determination to her.

”We will try, because--” A pause. Her dark eyes watched his, soft and full of nothing but affection. Then she shrugged her shoulders, licked her lips and then finally finished her ”because… We are worth it.”

And then the fight seemed to leave her, and Ayatah stood there, unsure of what to say or do next. She had fought enemies, before, killed her fair share of foes. But this - experience, was entirely new and more terrifying.

She exhaled deeply, blowing cool air from her cheeks. Then she closed her eyes, and emptied her thoughts:

”I love you. And I know we’ve said this before, but... I really mean it, Razkar. You mean a lot to me. And I am willing to throw everything I have into this. Because I do think we’re worth it. I believe that, if we give this all we can, when we’re as old as Quinneth…” She faltered, just for a chime, ”This could be more than just a memory.”

Finally, she inhaled a breath. Then slowly, she opened her left eye, squinting under those long lashes as she watched his face. Never before had she been so honest about her mind and desires - let alone share them with the one person who could either destroy or make them happen.

”So… yeah…”

|| Ayatah's speech || Ayatah's thoughts || Others' speech ||