Flashback [Mithryn Outpost] Kale

[Isolde Seibold]

{Midsummer, circa 379 AV}

He came to her, dazzling and sweaty, out of the sweltering heat. Isolde wiped her brow, squinting through the sunlight at this unexpected visitor, and held out a canteen for him to sip. "Help yourself," she said, and he did.

At first she didn't realize who he was. Some young man, very familiar. He wasn't particularly handsome, but there was just something about him that caught her eye. Perhaps it was his own. He had grey eyes that smiled with an inner light and... she wanted to call it a pureness, a clearness. As if he could truly see her, and even through her, and that he had taken her measure and was pleased by what he saw. He had a god's eyes-- that was the best way she could think of it. His brown hair, chopped short, was dripping in the hot sun, and his skin was even more tan than hers-- he looked like he was used to spending long days out in the open air with nothing between him and the sky. There was a light dusting of freckles from ear to ear, and a scruff beard in need of a shave, perhaps a day or two old.

It was the freckles that got her. There was one on his earlobe, and she noticed it as she took the canteen back. She must've looked astonished, because his smile widened, showing abnormally straight teeth. "Nice to see you, too, 'Zo."

Isolde could feel her mouth hanging open, and her heart had given a sudden flutter. She felt as if it had grown wings, and might lift her into the air. "K-Kale?" she stuttered out. He grinned, tugging lightly on a piece of her hair that had fallen out of her knotted bun, and suddenly her arms had been flung around him, and he was hugging her tightly and laughing with that same, breathy hic-hic-hic laugh that she had forgotten over the years. "Kale!" she said again, and she could hear the brightness in his voice when he asked, "Does that mean you missed me?" Now she really was flying; he spun her around once, lifting her feet off the ground though he was a good two inches shorter than she, before releasing her waist, taking her hands instead, twining his fingers into hers. An unfamiliar thrill rocked through her, a spark that came from the light in his eyes and the touch of their rough palms together. Isolde couldn't stop smiling; her cheeks hurt. And she couldn't stop staring at him. She didn't want to.

It really was Kale. Her Kale, her childhood friend. Back. He'd come back. Like he'd said.

[Isolde Seibold]

"But how?" she found herself asking aloud, "And why? I have a million questions! Where--"

He shook his head, squinting through the sun at her. "I know you have a lot to ask. And I have a lot of stories to tell. But we'd better finish up the plowing first, don't you think, and then get into some shade."

"The plowing--? Oh!" Isolde looked down at the dirt-smudged trousers she wore, the simple shirt so covered in dust that it looked grey instead of white, the cracked, black boots. She had completely forgotten, due to Kale's arrival. She needed to finish plowing her portion of the field... and then there were chores to do, and then of course the children would be waiting for her lesson. And she needed to get to weeding and watering the garden box, too, or all the flowers would dry out and die into crispy, dead husks. That she couldn't let happen; she wouldn't want to disappoint Tavasi, or her mother. Everything else had already all dried up; this was the second time Mithryn had plowed the fields. The drought this summer was taking its toll. Her flowers were the only green and color for miles around.

"Kale, I've just remembered--" she started to say, turning back to him, planning to tell him that today was too busy and that she'd catch up with him later. He was gone. For a second she'd thought the sun had gotten to her head, and she'd somehow imagined him up, perhaps from dehydration and loneliness out in her secluded corner of the fields. And then she heard the cracked earth churning, the dusty clomp of Miner- and Jez's hooves crunching on the cracked, parched ground, and whirled. Kale had taken the plow, hooked to the young horses' strong, black backs, and was pushing it along. The cords stood out on his arms, his wiry muscles bunching beneath his soaked shirt, and she had to jog to catch up to him. "Oh, stop showing off and let me help you before the furrows are ruined!" she laughed, and he stood to the side to allow her to step in front of him. Together they hefted the plow, Isolde helping to guide it straight and true, having to lean back every once and a while when Miner and Jez started to pull too quickly. At those moments, she would feel her shoulders just barely brush Kale's chest, and could easily blame the sun for the rush of heat that would rise to her face.

It was bells before the plowing was done. Somehow the time flew by. Perhaps the chimes had been hitched to Isolde's heart and carried away into the sky. With Kale there, things weren't nearly so tedious, even though they didn't have much room for talk; plowing took concentration, and a whole lot of effort. Both of them were panting too hard to be able to hold a decent conversation. It was simply enough to be near each other again. Even after so long, Kale still had that disarming quality to him that had used to get him into such trouble with all the other girls' mothers. It was easy to work around him, knowing that there was an extra pair of eyes and hands willing and able to help at a moment's notice.