Figurehead

three

As it has been for the past month, the evening is quiet. Insignificant talk is exchanged. Food is passed around the firepit, shared, enjoyed.

I miss home. I don't know what home is but I know it's not here. Am I being selfish? We were brought here to make a difference, to touch the locals and perhaps convince them to be at peace with each other, despite having origins from different empires. I have done nothing while the others have made active efforts to keep the peace, they have actively cared for the sick and injured, actively behaved as mediators. I've done nothing. I am unharmed, utterly untouched. And all I want is to return to Escatin land.

But we don't talk about staying or leaving, we don't talk about missing home and family and friends, we don't talk about anything at all, really.

I miss Dein more than I miss my parents and sister- after all, I spent four Dre independent of them, away from them in a different province and gradually hearing so little from them. Dein I saw each week, if not more than every two days. His absence is not one I'm used to.

I wonder how Nirs is, how Yud is, how Eler is, how Frei is, if she's still alive. I suppose that's a dark thought. I wonder how the war is. I wonder how the former king is, and if he's sent any letters of supposed reassurance to his son. I wonder if Juk is still standing guard in the desert. I wonder if Lus is still in Anshakim, or if he's spending time with his tied. I wonder if Dein is alone, and if he is physically well, spiritually well.

Sometimes, when the night is silent enough with the sleeping breaths of the other inhabitants of the dwelling, I allow myself to wonder if he misses me as much as I miss him. And in the silence, I allow myself to think that maybe, maybe he does.

But in the same silence, I ask the same questions over and over and over and over and over.

Lord, what do You will for me? Where do You want me to go? Do I stay? Do I return? Is this from You? What are You doing?

I don't sleep much at all.