@avitejkumara
The night was deceptively calm, even if the camp was never truly silent. There were always quiet whispers of parents trying to soothe children, the sound of boots on the forrest ground, a few souls still working on enforcing the house to make it defendable should the time come. (When the time comes.)
But most had gone to sleep. Kirian couldn’t, of course, which had become more a habit than a surprise at this point. He had found his way, by serendipity or accident he couldn’t tell, to the balcony of the hightest floor, especially build to oversee the light on a certain time of the day as it lit the lake, turning it almost silver. Josefin had shown him once and when it turned, she had held his hands and he’d known it was love. He’d known he would never see a sight as beautiful as the light in her eyes, shining for him.
(He’d known he would do anything to be a man worthy of being by her side.)
Now the lake was quiet, twinkling with stars a sky away. It reminded him of Rayajer, although the seas were rarely as calm. Avi had taught him of the stars, how to use these fixed points of light to guide them home. Taught him that no matter the storm, no matter the darkness, it was the light that would bring him home.
Home. Soon, one last time.
(Avi talked of the stars, but his father talked of the drowning depths, and Kirian knew where he belonged.)
He had abandoned Avi once. He would not make that mistake again.
He touched the pearl around his neck, so heavy and so light and took a deep breath.
“Avi? Are you awake? Can you hear me?”
