Twelve-year-old Sotha yanked from her tutor’s grip and raced across the main street of Miphlat Shelanu, darting up onto the lip of the large fountain at its gate and jumping back down after a few steps instead of taking the precious seconds to go around it. In only moments, she had crashed into Arafel and wrapped arms around her hips, locking her fingers so she couldn’t be pried off.
Her mother didn’t try to pry her off. Arafel’s hand landed on her head, ruffling her short black hair. “Hi, Sotha,” she said, and then she said something to Sotha’s tutor - adult talk. Sotha didn’t care. She buried her face in her mom’s waist and breathed in deeply.
Then she pulled her face away and wrinkled her nose.
“You smell like horse, Alma.”
“I’ve been traveling on a horse.” Arafel rapped her knuckles gently on Sotha’s head. Sotha glanced to the side to see her tutor turn and walk off, his arms crossed like they always were when he was mad at Sotha for not liking a lesson. Sotha stuck her tongue out at his back.
“Sotha!” Arafel saw that. Sotha gave her a sheepish grin.
“I’m glad you’re home again, Alma. Oh- oh! Miss Jeanine said she’d teach me to do alchemy if I wanted! I told her I did, but I’d have to ask you. Can I? Please? The stuff she makes is always so pretty and colorful.”
“And helpful,” said Arafel mildly.
“Yeah, that too.” Sotha didn’t really care as much about that. Though it might be nice to make her own bruise-go-away drink next time she was climbing on the roof and fell and didn’t want anyone to know, instead of asking Miss Jeanine to keep it a secret. She never did keep it a secret. Arafel always found out. Arafel always found everything out.
“Come on. Let’s go home, Sotha.” Arafel gently wriggled, almost making Sotha lose her grip. Sotha tightened her arms and giggled.
“Will you leave again if I let go?”
“No.” Arafel’s fingers tapped Sotha’s hand. “You can keep hold of me, if you want.”
Sotha grabbed her mom’s hand before letting go of her waist. Arafel’s hand was bigger than hers. Calloused. All Sotha’s callouses were in different spots, from climbing and falling on stuff she shouldn’t have climbed. Arafel’s callouses were from that longsword and shield Sotha loved to see her practice with. Sotha spread out Arafel’s fingers and lifted her hand above her head, studying the callouses as they walked.
“Can you teach me to fight?”
“Sotha, what did I say about that question?”
Sotha drooped. “Not until I’m fifteen,” she grumbled. “Twelve is almost fifteen!”
“Twelve is not fifteen.”
“Just three years!”
“Exactly. Just three years. You can wait three years,” Arafel told her. “I believe in you.”
Now that just felt insulting. Sotha pouted up at Arafel, grabbing her hand tight and yanking it. Her mom’s eyes flashed gold for a moment - a warning Sotha knew well. She stuck her lower lip out and scuffed her feet as they walked, gripping Arafel’s hand close to her chest, but not pulling at it.
Golden eyes like Sotha’s own, the most startling thing she’d inherited from Arafel. Oh! That reminded her.
“Mom! There’s a new scholar in town! He’s an Aldmer.”
“Altmer,” Arafel corrected mildly. “What’s he studying?”
“What you are! Or what the gold dude who walks with you is. Nerevar? His name is Ancano.”
Arafel’s pace slowed a little. “He’s studying Nerevar, or studying the Chimer?”
“That other one. Khi-mer,” sounded out Sotha. “He’s here ‘cause Miphlat Shelanu is Chimeris. Like, the name. That’s what he said. And I said, my mom speaks Chimeris, she named the town! And he was like, no, that’s stupid, nobody speaks Chimeris anymore. And I was like, yes she does! And I know more words in Chimeris! And he went, hrrrrugh-” and Sotha tried to make the face the scholar had made, all rolling eyes and tight lips and a really weird twitching brow - “yeah? Then say something.”
Sotha ran out of air and took a deep breath. Arafel looked down at her and blinked once. Her eyes were back to just red! That was good.
“And what did you say?”
“Fuck!”
Arafel choked on nothing. Sotha stared up at her, grinning.
“I- where’d you hear that word?”
“Sometimes you say it when your eyes go gold. It’s Chimeris, right?”
“Oh,” said Arafel. Her brows drew together in that angry-mom way that precedes someone getting a stern lecture. Sotha frowned.
“Am I in trouble?”
“No, just- That’s a word we don’t say. That’s a word you can say when you’re twenty.”
“So I can learn to fight in three years, but I can’t say fuck for another…” Sotha let go of Arafel’s hand for a moment to count on her fingers, then seized her mom’s hand again. “Eight?”
“Yes. But here- I’ll teach you actual Chimeris. Then you can go back to Ancano and show him what’s what, okay?”
“Who’s Ancano?” asked Sotha.
“The scholar you were telling me about?”
“Oh. Him.” Sotha paused. They were nearing their house, a two-story affair of orangish stone in a plaza off the main roads. It looked like all the other houses outside, but inside was a bunch of stuff from Arafel’s home - somewhere Sotha had only heard of, and seen merchants coming through the mountains from. Morrowind.
“Yeah. Let’s do that.” She grinned up at her mom and squeezed Arafel’s hand. “It can be our secret language, Alma!”
“Sure.” Arafel smiled back at her. Sotha felt her grin grow wider. She clung to Arafel’s hand as her mother opened the door, and then tugged Arafel inside, kicking off her shoes in the entryway.
She only let go of Arafel’s hand once the door had shut behind them - once she was quite sure Arafel wasn’t going to just leave again. Not yet, anyway. There was so much Sotha wanted to show her, and tell her, from the two months she’d been gone.
Anyone else just. More tired than usual? I feel like since April I’ve been running on fumes. I sleep more and it’s the same. I eat more and it’s the same. I drink more water, drink coffee, energy drinks, exercise- you guessed it, the same.
Anyone else tired of being tired? Like, I was always tired before but I feel like I hit the event horizon and reached a new level of Always Tired I haven’t had since high school
