Figurehead

eleven

By the time I leave my afa's dwelling, it is almost night. Afa ate his evening meal while I talked about Deritri a little, and about what it's like to live in Anshakim, because he was curious about the differences between the two Escatin provinces. He recounted some stories about the children he teaches and reminded me of what it was like teaching me when I was younger. It was.. Nice. Warm. I don't know, but for a moment I glimpsed 'home'.

I catch a glimpse of Oan and Ked laughing together on one of the other streets as they enter what I assume is their dwelling. All around me, I see people who used to be my tutors, I see people I befriended along the way, I see men who used to be boys I liked, I see people my parents knew- people who helped raise me.

Sret opens the door when I knock, this time, and doesn't bother locking the door behind me until our ama tells her to in Hiun. It's strange to see her so much more mature now and yet stil so much the same. 17- no, 18 Dre now. Long dark hair, dark amber eyes the same as ever, it's so strange to see how different she is and isn't. A healer.

The evening meal is anything but quiet. Ama warns us of the dangers of this empire, not to mention the dangers of travelling to Avu, telling us on multiple occasions to be more careful, to take less risks, and so on and so forth. I don't hear most of it, and that's mostly unintentional. An old habit has returned, it seems. Sret still hasn't learned how to keep an impassive face when frustrated, speaking up in protest before storming into the other room, kicking the door shut behind her with a quiet slam.

I release a heavy sigh. "Ama," I begin, but I don't know what to say.

She shakes her head, exhaling. "You both know I love you and just want to keep you two safe."

I stack the used plates and bowls. You have a unique way of expressing it sometimes, I almost say. But I don't. "I know," I say instead, taking the dishes and cutlery to the washroom.

My ama follows. "Janf..." She trails off. What is there to say? Perhaps this family will only have peace when it is apart, when each of us live in our own dwellings and lead separate lives, only to come together for visits. Who knows? But I suspect that may not be the Lord's will. After all, when has He ever wanted a family to be broken in order that it might have peace? I don't know. I don't know.

We wash the dishes together in silence before she heads to the other room- where I hope Sret has calmed; her temper had always been short and longer-lasting than we'd often preferred- and I go into the front room, unrolling my pallet and settling in under a sheet and pelt. The nights here are warmer than in the desert.

"Sleep well, Janf."

"Sleep well, Ama. Sleep well, Sret."