Flashback Abundance

[Ayara Orin - Migrated]

9th of Summer, 506 AV

Over my stay here in Sultros, I have come to greatly respect the Isur. Fool as I was, I took their aloofness as a sign of unwelcome when we first arrived, but since then I have come to understand what my boon companions meant when they told me, and I quote "Don't worry. They hate everyone equally." We are indeed unwelcome here. So is everyone else. It's honestly rather refreshing. Though I have yet to meet an actual Sultros, I have gathered much from my colleagues. The fabled Isuran arm is far more than a metaphor, and the arm of the Sultros clan is red, or so I hear. My study of the Isuran language proceeds apace. I have phonetically transcribed the few phrases I have learned, and Velkar has promised to try and teach me what he knows of it when next we speak.

Ayara sounded out the words, memorizing the shape of them in her mouth. The author had only picked up a smattering of Isuran by the time of the entry, and only two complete phrases, likely through repetition. They were 'Go away.' and 'Don't bother me.' Cleaned up for the sake of his pride, no doubt. Diligent, but tactless, this one. She would have to visit the Isur herself, one day. Shifting to a more comfortable position by the campfire, Ayara resumed her reading, slowly losing interest as the travelogue's author resorted to dressing up wild guesswork as his attempts at "Research." Six chapters later she was reading with half an eye and watching the approaching traveler with the other.

It was a woman. Human, or something like it, bundled up warmer than Ayara herself. As she approached, Ayara set aside the journal and acknowledged her with a nod. To some surprise, the woman bowed, and spoke Symenos without butchering it quite as badly as most azo she'd met. "Greeting warm, sibea. A seat of fire?"

The sibea caught her off guard, and she found herself smiling as she nodded her assent. It had taken her many seasons to perfect that particular smile. Too small, and most azo could take it as mocking. Too wide, and it was a threat. She brought a finger to her lips, gesturing to the second bedroll just at the edge of the firelight. "You are welcome in silence, traveler," she whispered in common, catching the traveler's gaze with her own. She bent her djed into the shape of truth and it leaked from her voice and shone through her eyes. "My cousin. She sleeps, you see." Hypnotic impulse or no, the traveler seemed to accept Ayara's explanation.

The traveler gratefully unslung her pack and laid it gently on the ground before sitting at the fire opposite Ayara. "Thanks," she whispered. "I'm Ilinalta."

"Ayara."

Introductions thus completed, Ilinalta loosened up a bit. Laces were undone, food was unpacked, and offered, and offered in return.