14th Spring
The woman sitting opposite Ayatah was pregnant.
She had no swelling of the belly, or even that motherly glow that comes after the first season of gestation. No, it was not due to the pleasant signs of pregnancy that made Aya come to her conclusion, but the negative. The mother-to-be was skittish, nervous. Her skinny fingers traced her abdomen before pulling away as if the foetus inside had tried to snap her fingers off. The child inside her womb, despite being of her blood, would not be her son. He would not gift her with his giggles or ridiculous baby babble. And so the woman probably did not want to bond with the life inside her.
That would be difficult. Ayatah shifted in her seat uncomfortably, trying to look everywhere but at the pregnant woman -- but finding herself staring nevertheless.
Aya, it's rude to stare!
The voice in her head belonged to Kuame. The thought of her adopted son instantly bought a smile to the Myrian, but this time it was uncommonly short lived. Kuame was not her son, not in truth. His own mother had decided she did not want a son. And the boys father? The Gods only knew where he was. Or who he was.
These thoughts racketed around Aya's head until she heard a far off door click open. Then she sat up straight, as if she were to be interviewed or examined. Why was she here again?
"Miss. Ay-tar?"
"It's pronounced Eye-yar-ta." She corrected absently, standing up and turning towards the mild mannered voice. Then the half-breed realised where she was, why she was there. The importance of how her name was pronounced drifted away like a cloud.
"Ah, I'm sorry. Please come this way."
She followed the blue male down the corridor and through a half-open door, presumably the one she'd heard open mere ticks ago. After gesturing for her to sit down on a comfortable looking sofa, the Akalak seated himself. Ayatah squirmed and shifted nervously under his even gaze.
His calm smile did nothing for her anxiety. "So. My name is Palvanik." He placed a steady hand on his chest and then returned it back to his knee. His movements were all very calm, measured and trained. A new kind of warrior. "I work with Yolan here, at the Scantum. Yolan has asked me to meet with you today, if that's okay?"
Do I have a choice? Does it really matter? Visiting the Psyche's Sactum was not in line with how Ayatah would choose to spend her afternoon. But she'd overheard two women talking about it, how helpful it had been and how changed and renewed they'd felt upon leaving the place. And Ayatah had thought: yeah, I could do with some of that.
She gave a tiny nod.
Palvanik seemed pleased. "Good. So let's start with you telling me a little about yourself."