A Lie

.:3:.

The sun shone on Katolis and roused the inhabitants from their sleep. The people marched about in the streets, and even the shouting sounded like home. Meanwhile, Atarah sat listlessly on a ledge hanging over a tall building, watching from a distance.

An emptiness pervaded her body, such a foreign feeling that tugged at her face. She stubbornly set her expression in a strained smile. It felt as though giggles and mad tears would escape from the funny feeling in her chest if she let it. Harrow received a letter back from Aaravos this morning, confirming the interview in two days, informing her, Gren, Corvus, and Lady Sarai of course. It seemed like they accepted her reassignment, and that only she was freaking out about the change, so she left quickly to be by herself.

And she felt so stupid for finding it to be such a shock. Nothing tied her here, but everything here made her want to stay. She watched these people and was familiar with their faces and names and voices. She watched as a watch guard must and enjoyed how open Katolis was. Truthfully, she resented that she caused this state of limbo within herself for constantly getting attached from the outside and never trying to be involved inside. In no way did these things claim her as she had never claimed them. Her job never felt this hard to her before, like it was a burden. Perhaps that was because usually, her job demanded that she always return here. She held onto hope that becoming the kids' protection detail would not change that, that it would be temporary. This morning felt like a dream.

No, that was a lie. It felt like a nightmare. Because she did not want to go, but she had to.

Feeling much like the fool, the woman dug her fingers into the cold surface of the tiled ledge, actively ignoring the tears rolling down her face. Just like she always does.

Once the salty taste of her emotions touched her lips, she furiously wiped her face and set her brows. This was nothing. Absolutely nothing.

She closed her eyes and then drew in a deep breath. And she let it go.

There. See? All better.

But as soon as she opened her eyes, she heard those words he said taunting her in her head. She was always friendless. Always alone. Just a replacement changing her job to be someone else's replacement.

And that was... okay.

\*\*/*/

For some, there's an internal clock that wakes them up in the morning, or the brightness of daylight peeking into the room. For Ezran and Callum, it was the smell of breakfast.

The kitchen was relatively under their rooms on the first floor, and the cook would often leave windows open to clear the air of onion smells and other things. A smell of fried potatoes slices and bacon wafted through the kitchen window and up into their rooms. They woke simultaneously, convinced to leave the warmth of their bed for substance in their stomach. Callum chuckled when he heard a thud sounding from the room adjacent to his. He hurried as well, though, wanting to have the first choice of the dishes.

It was a whirlwind of movement in both rooms until Ezran swung his door open and began running half-heartedly. He just woke up, after all. Callum cursed his messy hair and settled for patting it down instead of combing it, sprinting after his brother. He had the advantage of longer legs and a better disposition of recovering from sleep quickly. He passed by Ezran's now-walking form with a laugh, calling out, "I'm gonna win!"