Snowblind {complete}

Wet - Yearn

The morning messages arrived while Lanna kneaded a wax paste for a lip shimmer, but she took no interest and instead applied herself to the stiff, yellow wax. Then a letter flopped onto her workboard. She blinked and looked up at Epen's impassive face. She knew the characters on the envelope made up her name – her old name that was.

Whoever had sent the letter hadn't heard of the Imperial decree. Lanna frowned, wondering who would send her letters when she had barely mastered all fifty-two basic characters of the Imperial writing system. Her eyes scanned over the loops and angles, decoding the symbols.

'Li' – the rainy side of a hill; they had no 'La' sound and used the closest to it. 'An' – tranquillity, used twice as there was no long 'aa' sound in Imperial. 'Na' –hundredth of an hour. In Imperial, she was a calm rainy hillside, but the rain didn't last long.

In the palace, she was reduced to a rainy hillside, which amused Chowa. They had effectively snipped off the parts of her name that gave it personality. Of course, her name meant much more in Southern.

'Are you not going to attempt to read it?' Epen asked, cutting through her thoughts. She shook her head.

'I'll need help,' she muttered, a little embarrassed.

'I'll read it to you, Misra,' Epen offered. She looked up, surprised.

'The written word is precious,' he said, giving her an intense look. 'You better yourself by learning to make permanent your thoughts and feelings so others may know you.' He tapped the envelope. 'This is from the sixth province; it's taken a month to get here. Someone has paid no small amount for their words to reach you and that deserves respect.' He placed a hand over his chest and bowed, as if she were a concubine and not elbow deep in wax.

'I would be honoured to read while you work. I was on an early errand, so my midday break is to be taken now.'

Lanna didn't know what to say. He sat on a stool opposite the bench she worked at, gently thumbed open the district seal and unfolded the thick paper. Paper was expensive. Even Chowa wouldn't waste it, preferring bamboo scrolls that could be wiped clean of errors while the ink was wet or sanded clean if it had dried.

The paper grew larger than the width of the table and was covered in tiny, neat characters.

'My daughter,' Epen began. Lanna nearly fainted. It was from her parents?

'We hope this finds you well. We have hired a novice from an observatory in town Eighty-Four to come and scribe for us. Misra Chowa was generous in her remunerations.'

I'm sure she was, Lanna thought sourly.

'As most of the village cannot write, we have allowed others to visit the novice and he will take down their words too. Many have asked after you, but we only have Misra Chowa's brief missives saying that you are healthy and working hard.'

This was another surprise. Chowa had said nothing of keeping her parents informed on Lanna's progress.

'The courier was kind enough to read her messages to us on delivery. We are glad you are learning to write – it is a very useful skill in the Empire and we feel disadvantaged for not having it.'

Lanna sighed, wishing she could hug her father.

'We have rented some more land with our coin and now have our own rice paddies. Our health is good, and we have enough coin in reserve to keep us well for the years to come. We are settled here, and the village is pleased we have chosen to stay.'

Lanna smiled, glad they were doing well but also a little ashamed. She hadn't thought of them much over the last few weeks.

'Your brother is still intent on making his own way as soon as he turns sixteen. He says he will head to the First City and find a way to release you from your obligations. We have tried to reason with him.'