Vahnian Selfcare Centre

A Kal'Iri scribe who is doing her utmost to complete the Dark Chronicle with stories from the High Seas and other tales. So stay awhile and listen :) Website: www.die-dunkle-chronik.de

[tisjas-writing-notebook]

I'm still writing that short story about Agda ^^

And I love this scene so much <3

-> Slowly, the spirit of the acolyte awoke in her new home. Despite her clouded thoughts, the young woman immediately sensed some new [impressions]. Her chest felt much heavier, which she noticed with her eyes closed, sighing contentedly. For the first time in her life, she did not feel that sense of incompleteness that constantly reminded her of her body's inadequacy. It was a blissful contentment that gradually spread through the acolyte's body. She cautiously moved her hands to her chest, where her delicate fingers felt distinct curves. She laughed a laugh that spoke of the years of desperate hope to which Agda had clung. <-

And I have finally a name for the short story:

„Des Krebes neues Heim“ -> „The Crabs new Home“

[bambistjames]

non-writers will never understand the mental illness of writing an entire conversation in your head while doing dishes and then forgetting every word the second you open a blank doc

[tisjas-writing-notebook]

Been writing again 🥰

-> Mina paused briefly to take a sip from her wineskin, which Agda used to interject.

"Isn't it also my duty to be studious and diligent in understanding your teachings?"

Mina wiped her mouth with the back of her hand and handed the leather vessel to her acolyte.

"You misunderstand your task. Yours is to 'try' to follow the path of knowledge with the attributes you describe. However, if I fail to prepare this path for you in such a way that you can walk it, this can hardly be considered a disgrace.

Regarding the original question:

There is a fundamental difference between us, the Vahnian Rangers, and the Standfast, which makes the attitudes of many sisters of the order seem all the more abstruse, in that we assume that change is a constant companion of life. What stands still dies out."

"Who do the steadfast serve?"

"They are bound to Eradra by loyalty, just as the Vahnian Rangers are bound to mortals. Hence the comparison I drew:

A mountain does not care what happens over centuries, while flora and fauna can undergo epoch-making changes during this time.

Your path is as natural as that of the hermit crab searching for a new shell. What your spirit so ardently desires is a new shell, which I intend to give you. But would you deny the hermit crab its quest? Would you claim that the little crab's behaviour is unnatural?“ <-

Agda, the Brave

Short story from Nuriea

[tisjas-writing-notebook]

The story continues :D

-> The lower half of her heart-shaped face was concealed by an ochre-colored scarf. In the other, between the fine features and high cheekbones, she could see purple eyes. Small horns hung from the Vahnian's forehead, fringed by the woman's night-black hair and adorned with metal chains.

Behind her, the farmer's daughter could see man-sized pitch-black wings and a scaly tail of the same color. The hands of the order's leaders also resembled more claws, all of which were a clear indication of their apparently noble origins. In one fluid motion, the Vahnian pulled down that shawl of cloth, allowing Agda to make out the friendly smile on her lips. This fact puzzled her, for the Order did not treat those like her with mercy. Perhaps she had not yet been discovered.

“What is your name?”

“Larén, Mistress-Vahnian, I am the second eldest son of farmer xy, Mistress-Vahnian.”

When she answered, her counterpart examined the farmer's daughter with a skeptical look, when at that moment the hoot of an owl sounded. Agda instinctively followed the sound to its source and saw a stone owl fly down from the sky to that Vahnian Ranger and settle on her shoulder. For a fleeting moment, the head of the Vahnian turned her gaze to the animal, causing it to caw. The woman then laughed happily and said to the owl: “I think so too, [Karinika].” <-

Agda the Valiant, Short Story

[tisjas-writing-notebook]

A short story about one of my favorites - and yes I know you shouldn't have favorites - but I especially like Adga - the later forest dweller from Seénovoskar <3 -> Agda wiped the sweat from her forehead with her right hand. Ever since the sun had risen, the temperatures in Seénovoskar, the northernmost administrative district, had been soaring. This was perfectly normal for this time of year, as it was always this hot in Jul'Vín, the seventh of the twelve months of the Drairi calendar. She wouldn't complain about such weather in her life, but it didn't make work any easier either. Ever since she was a child, the farmer's daughter [Agda's father] liked the warm months more than the rainy season or the beginning of flowering. Ritors' light was constantly shining down on her charges. Especially as the river country, which was their home, consisted mainly of flat plains with few forests. In southern Walindria, forest and jungle protected them from the blessing of the fire god, but in Seénovoskar, they had to be tougher or smarter. The Drairi of the district had learned to live with and not against the sun. They had been forced to become inventive in order to withstand such temperatures. Fortunately, Magragar, the goddess of magic, had once gifted them with wisdom thousands of years ago. They wore long white robes that protected their skin from the merciless rays and hats on their heads. In addition, every child quickly learned - if they had even a little arcane talent - how to conjure up enough water. She brushed a stray strand of her summer-blonde hair out of her face and snorted discontentedly. It was her great salvation that the fashion for wearing her hair long had come over the hereditary river from Götterfurt to Reinlingen. After all, her brothers wore it that way too, so she could hardly be blamed for it. When she thought of the great river that flowed through the capital, she couldn't help but think of the nursery rhyme they used to teach her about the family rivers. Smiling, she recited it in her mind: <- Agda the Valiant, Short story

[tisjas-writing-notebook]

-> At that moment, her foster mother’s voice snapped her out of her nervousness, causing Tiana to wince: “You look lovely, Tia. I’ll see you at the party, enjoy the evening and leave me poor Rivan in one piece.” For a moment, the young woman looked at her foster mother. The tall, former captain looked as stately as she had on that sunrise day when they had set out a few winters ago... <-

Stories of the highs Seas 2

The flight of the owl

Chapter 3: The moon celebration

[tisjas-writing-notebook]

Small progress is still progress 😊

->

So she began by transferring the syllables and sounds she knew, as taught to her by her foster father, neatly onto the paper in front of her. Of course, Tiana did not omit the ones that consisted of two Leoran characters. Then she tried to copy the first foreign symbol that was coherent with the a-sound of her homeland. It consisted of a straight line, which ended in another one pointing downwards at an angle of 45 degrees. The young woman tried her best to copy the characters properly, even though it wasn't easy for her. Kalek had always placed particular emphasis on Thiana's writing skills, as well as her language proficiency, in his lessons. She benefited from this care now that she was trying to handle a foreign language.

One sign followed the previous one until, after a while, the content of her table resembled that of the template. With eyes shining with pride, she looked at the result of her work before holding it out to the Vahnian. Almina, who was reading a book, didn't immediately notice her student, but only after a few moments. The corners of her mouth turned up into a gentle smile as she placed one of the ribbons attached to the cover between the pages and closed the book. With great care, she placed it in a new location, as if it were a precious treasure. She was able to make out the title of the work, which was written in a strange blue color. If Tianas's cursory glance at the table was wrong, it read: Kil Magrina^Narfka-Tiovin-Kinala.

<-

Tales of the High Seas 2 The Flight of the Owl Chapter 3: The Moon Festival

[tisjas-writing-notebook]

A translation table from Drachen to New-Leoran from the second Book: The flight of the Owl :D

[tisjas-writing-notebook]

I just have to post something I've already written so that I don't feel like I'm losing my grip on my stories for good :)

-> After spending a really nice evening with Frieda, the two of them are back in Sophia's neighbourhood. The duck called Paddle is relaxing on a mountain of unsorted laundry and doesn't even notice them. The engineer corrected herself inwardly: she had definitely seen Paddle, but ignored him after the little head lifted briefly.

The women had changed together, brushed their teeth and returned to their quarters ready for bed. Sophia had just helped Liv onto the mattress and looked at her for a moment as if enchanted, while Liv tapped away on her CAM.

After a while, her girlfriend snapped Sophia out of her admiration with her voice: "Are you coming to bed too or are you just going to enjoy watching me from afar?"

"Are we being impatient?"

"How can you possibly be patient when it comes to cuddling with you, Emmi. Don't be silly," she replied, grinning broadly, whereupon the engineer lay down in bed with Liv, giggling. With one arm around the officer, Sophia asked: "Better?"

"Better."

Sophia kissed her on the forehead while Liv continued to cuddle up to her.

At some point, as Sophia was stroking Liv's shoulder, the officer raised her voice: "Tell me, Emmi, I need to ask you something..."

Sophia waited with a curious look for the actual question. Liv avoided looking her directly in the face and did so with a clearly anxious expression on her face, something that was rarely seen on her. She briefly squeezed her eyes shut, took a deep breath, seemed to gather her courage and yet continued to look away.

To give her the little bit of courage that was obviously still missing, Sophia hugged her a little tighter, kissed her on the forehead and said, "Whatever it is, I'm with you and I'm not going anywhere."

Liv drew in a sharp intake of air through her lips before she made her request: "You know we're flying to the ... the ... Rangariy ..." She stopped and narrowed her eyes as if expecting a punishment, but Sophia replied encouragingly: "Yes, I know. What's your point?"

"When we get there, I'd like to go with you to Dante's grave..."

Liv exhaled audibly, as if she had just been running. The engineer's anger had boiled up at the very mention of the strangers and it had cost her a great deal to remain calm, as she had immediately seen the news reports in her mind's eye. However, this image of horror was not the only one that had shaped her thoughts, because there was also the memory of that date on Soberil Five and their first kiss. It wasn't easy, but it wasn't easy for Liv either.

She realised that it would be hard to meet the strangers, but how could they expect Liv to change if she wasn't ready for it herself? She noticed almost casually how Liv began to tremble. A barely noticeable tremor, but she could feel it clearly.

With a slight shiver of uncertainty in her voice, Sophia spoke: "I can't promise you that I'll ever be able to accept them and not see them as the monsters my nanny warned me about, but we will go to Dante's grave. I promise you that ... Is there a particular reason why you want to visit him?"

To the engineer's surprise, the officer's trembling ended with her question and it still took a seemingly endless moment before she replied: " There is indeed..."

Sophia smiled hesitantly to ease the situation.

"Do you want to tell me? You don't have to if you don't feel ready, Liv."

"I have an important question to ask you and I know that you - that I - imagined it under different circumstances, but we are at war..."

Liv's eyes became misty and she swallowed audibly. There it was again, the trembling in her limbs. She held her breath for a moment and whispered after another breath: "Romance is expensive in times like these, but this: Peace - is priceless. That's why there's no better time, because when the bullets fly it's too late..."

She took a deep breath and her muscles tensed. For the first time in this conversation, Liv looked back up at Sophia as an anxious smile stole across her features.

"I love you with all my broken heart and mind, Sophia. I never want to leave your side again and be a home to you..."

"Yes, I do"

Liv's eyes suddenly widened and her anxious smile turned into one of disbelief. Barely able to contain her happiness, the officer heaved a sigh of relief while Sophia hugged her fiancée tightly. With the same tears of joy in her eyes, the engineer whispered: "Everything starts anew tomorrow..." <-

[perfectfeelings]

“Take a shower, wash off the day. Drink a glass of water. Make the room dark. Lie down and close your eyes. Notice the silence. Notice your heart. Still beating. Still fighting. You made it, after all. You made it, another day. And you can make it one more. You’re doing just fine.”

— Charlotte Eriksson

[anxietyproblem]

[tisjas-writing-notebook]

Tisja-Vilaniv Scribbling 4

-> Tisja-Vilaniv shook her head, drank the vile wine and recommended herself, as she was longing for some sleep. Under the protection of her cloak, she had collected Elizja's key from the innkeeper and gone to her room.

After magically securing the door to the room, Tisja-Vilaniv undressed and began to wash herself using the arcane arts. She collected the bit of dirt that had covered her pale body by casting a spell in a corner next to the entrance. She then took the blanket from the bed and laid it on the floor at the foot of the piece of furniture, as she intended to sleep on the wood according to the custom of her elves. She surveyed her sleeping place with her iron gaze before she laid herself down to rest, satisfied with the result.

The night was filled with pleasant dreams of her patiently waiting homeland, Vilangar. It was all the more unfortunate for the elf when three knocks on the door brought her back to reality. Tired, she rubbed her lilac-coloured eyes. Only a silent sigh accompanied her as Tisja-Vilaniv stood up before throwing on her cloak and taking the bewitched dagger from the bed. The fine hairs on her skin stood up against the coolness of the night as she tried not to let anything show. Here in the human lands, no one would notice, but back home, if the assassin survived, she would be the laughing stock of the fae forest.

Ready for a fight, she practically floated to the door, used a scouting spell and learnt that the person had an identical aura signature to her contact, Shoko. That was a strange circumstance, because why would an assassin go to the trouble of imitating her mark?

She closed her eyes for a moment after another knock. At the same time, Shoko's voice rang out: ‘Please let me in, sister.’ Her words were little more than a whisper, but loud enough to penetrate the wood. Tisja-Vilaniv wrestled with herself, unable to open the door because of the arcane barrier. On the one hand, she didn't want to give a potential assassin an advantage, but the curiosity to know what her co-conspirator wanted from her at such a late hour was strong in her.

After some mental discussion with herself, the elf released her magical safety catch after standing on the right side of the door that swung open to the left. She pressed down the handle with her free hand while her other hand held the dagger hidden under her cloak, ready to strike. Through the gap that opened, Tisja-Vilaniv - whose heart was beating wildly - saw, thanks to her excellent eyes, a figure that resembled Shoko. Dressed only in a nightgown, the woman stood in front of the door and clasped her left arm with her right hand. <-

[tisjas-writing-notebook]

Tisja's scribbling 3

-> For just a moment, the elf – certain of her safety – closed her eyelids and sighed audibly. "Ah, the misery of the Iradi: constantly trying to appear like us, but, by Galikir, damn bad at it," her contact noted with a mischievous grin. Tisja-Vilaniv tilted her head and wanted to know the reason for this assumption: "What do you mean?"

The woman sat down at the table in the middle of the room opposite Tisja-Vilaniv. She put her feet up, held her mug in her left hand and said: "You think that with that expressionless face of yours you won"t attract attention, but that"s what makes you particularly conspicuous. It"s only by luck that most people are not interested in anything but their house and home – maybe the wenches two streets over, but apart from that..."

Tisja-Vilaniv threw back the hood, tucked a rebellious strand of her snow-white hair behind her right ear and put down the clay cup. With delicate movements, she loosened the fibula above her breastbone before she took off the cloak, which she then placed folded on a chest of drawers by the door. "You misjudge our actions, dear lady.

You are right that your simple folk don"t care about us. However, we don"t care about them either. Our goal is not to get lost in the crowd, but to avoid giving our enemies clues through our facial expressions. Among the Vilasar and especially the Ilaniv, the slightest movement is already analysed. We are aware that we attract attention, but amateurish attempts at assimilation are even more dramatic," the elf explained, now much more relaxed, as she sat down at the table. At the same time, the human put the mug aside, only to take a pipe out of a bag and start to fill it.

For the first time, the elf took a closer look at her counterpart. The oval face of the red-haired human woman with the bright green eyes was still grinning broadly. Freckles adorned her crooked nose and silver rings her right ear. Despite the recent popularity of cosmetics in the realm, such as lip blue, cheek colour or shadows for the eyelids, she did not wear any such frills.

She was of slender, tall stature and wore light, turquoise-coloured leather clothes with dark metal decorations. The dark green cloth scarf that wrapped her neck also blended in with this colour scheme. She was armed with a rapier that was attached to a belt at her hip. "Interesting, but may I ask you something?" Tisja-Vilaniv nodded before she smelled her wine. With an inward sigh at the apparently inferior quality, she took a sip and then drank to conceal her displeasure.

" What are you doing here in Kuskar?"

"As you can probably imagine, I can"t tell you. I would be a poor agent of the elven people if I were to present our missions to everyone."

The woman at the other end of the table shrugged, grinning as she lit her pipe. "It was worth a try. You know what they say about a woman"s vice," she commented on her pathetic attempt. With her mug in her right hand, Tisja-Vilaniv tried to steer the conversation towards her itinerary: "How do you plan to take me to my homeland?"

"Not at all… I was only ordered to take you as far as Kisbil. Elves are not persecuted there, and you should be able to make it to Vilangar on your own. But to get you there, I"ve organised a ship to take us southeast by sea."

"Is the ship"s crew trustworthy?"

"Nothing of the sort – just crooks – but that"s exactly what makes them perfect for us. Their contempt for the authorities is much greater than their dislike of your people. They would only end up on the rope themselves as a reward for capturing you."

"I see…"

"Don"t worry, elf. Shoko will take care of you."

Tisja-Vilaniv eyed the woman coldly. She spoke in a calm voice, "Is that your name?"

»At least the name you will learn from me – Shoko Kili-Vara, at your service."

"You are of low nobility?«

Shoko blew a cloud of pipe smoke towards the ceiling before answering, “Seems so.” “Then it would only be fair to tell you my name as well,” replied the elf, to which the woman at the other end of the table waved a hand, saying, "Not necessary… For the duration of our cooperation, you are Elizja Kili-Nira – my half-sister from a simple background. Apparently our father was a wild boar that could hardly be tamed. How did I earn the trust to know your name? From what I"ve heard, you elves are reluctant to reveal your names…" "My trust in you is only borrowed, because the only reason I"m open with you is the trust Ilkana has in you. He trusts you and with that you have mine. That"s why I want you to know my name, Shoko. Consider it a symbol of my faith in the judgement of our mutual friend. My name is Ilaniv Alanadol Tisja-Vilaniv," the elf explained calmly and without any sign of derision. Shoko whistled appreciatively before musing, "The new spring Tisja of the Ilaniv tribe and daughter of Alana…"

"I"m glad to know that you are familiar with the speech of the streams."

"You have to appreciate a beautiful name, and that"s difficult if you don"t know what it means," explained her contact person, before continuing, "In return, I can tell you who I"m taking you to Kisbil for – you know: because of our mutual friend. I"m an Acryl." "A nameless one… Is it true that you are born without a name?" Tisja-Vilaniv wanted to know in a fit of curiosity. The woman shook her head in reply: “That"s an old wives tale. Everyone has a name. I merely discarded it in the service of the true empress and in the fight against the Usurper." "Thank you for that explanation, honourable Akril Shoko. I appreciate the trust you place in me," the elf remarked with a rare, honest smile, before her face changed back to that cold mask.

"Now that that"s been settled, we should probably retire. I"ve rented rooms under our names, and we should probably go to the harbour together tomorrow morning. Otherwise, we"ll meet there after sunrise. Any questions?«

Tisja-Vilaniv shook her head, drank the revolting wine down, and excused herself, for she longed for some sleep. <-

[tisjas-writing-notebook]

Tisja scribbling 2

Yesterday evening she had a writing attack. It's not really good, but at least I was able to write a little :D

-> At last she recognised the sign of the inn written in white colour, which elicited a satisfied thought from her. ‘Finally…’ She pushed her way out of the stream of capital city residents to the entrance portal of the tavern.

The interior of the first floor was a large, inviting room with two roaring fires on the east and north sides of the building. It also had an elongated bar and half a dozen tables with chatty customers, as well as two adjoining rooms for more private conversations.

Without further ado, she walked up to the first waitress she saw behind the bar, tilted her head, and said the coded words: ‘Greetings, I would like a cup of Solian wine, good woman.’ Tisja forced a more or less friendly smile, without revealing much of her face. Although the staff of this tavern were, according to Ilkana, co-conspirators in her cause, caution was always advised when dealing with humans.

Apparently, her thin, lavender-coloured lips had the desired effect. While the barmaid blushed slightly for a moment, she hurried to say, ‘Right away, lady.’ The elf nodded gently and, after she had disappeared for a moment, the servant soon placed a clay cup with the desired beverage in front of her.

‘Thank you’ Tisja commented, to which her counterpart added, “The guest over there has been asking for you, dear lady.” With these words, she casually pointed to a tall figure wrapped in a hooded cloak at the other end of the counter. The elf gave the person a discreet glance, realising that it was this woman who was winking at her. Sighing silently to herself, Tisja took some silver coins out of a leather bag on her belt and put them on the wood. ‘The rest is for you, farewell,‘ she said to the waitress, before she, with her cloak gathered up and her clay cup, went over to the woman.

Even before she arrived, she jumped up and hugged the elf, grinning. In the process, her hood had slipped off her head, revealing the scarlet hair that framed the woman's oval face.

‘There you are, Elizja!‘

The elf reacted quickly enough to immediately reply, “It's good to see you. How long has it been?” ’Too long, little sister. Come, I've rented us a room where we can talk in peace. I want to know everything about your trip to the north!’

With a joyful cheer, the human woman dragged her to one of the adjoining rooms, almost spilling some of the wine in the elf's path. Despite her displeasure, Tisja had to admit to the woman that the seemingly casual statement fit her charade quite well. Solian wine was produced only in the northern Solkra and rarely found its way to Kuskar. Above all, usually only travellers from the corresponding areas knew about the existence of local goods that were exotic in the empire. It was therefore quite unusual for local citizens of the capital to order luxury foods from the north. However, since she came from that very region, according to the woman, it was not out of the ordinary.

Together they entered the room and immediately Tijsa could feel the aura of enchantment on a twinge in her left shoulder. While, guided by Tisja's hand, the door closed behind them, the elf mentally cast a tracking spell that allowed her to learn the kind of magic that was being used here. It was a domestic remedy of her guild, as Iradi, which informed her about the existence of an arcane anti-eavesdropping mechanism. Of course, she didn't hear a voice in her mind, but perceived a familiar pattern that resembled that of such a spell. <-

[tisjas-writing-notebook]

A bit of scribbling

-> Tisja pulled the hood deeper over her face as she strolled through the lively streets of Milnaras. Of all the places in Kuskar, the largest empire on the continent, the human capital was probably not a good place to be recognized as an elf. She could well do without an interrogation by the emperor's agents, which would certainly not end with a conversation. At least she just had to make it to the tavern Ilkana had spoken of. Her contact was waiting there, with whom she would make her way back to Vilangar.

The brief thought of her tree house in the fey forest conjured a delicate smile on the features of the agent. Despite the learned self-control, it was difficult for her to hide this little bit of anticipation. This bastion of misery, built of stone and spite, could hardly keep up with her home. Such noise, as it was here, was unthinkable in the fey forest and could only be tolerated by the elf with great effort. There were reasons why not every elf became an Iradi. In her home, the chirping of the Kolriki birds, the singing of the trees and the rustling created by fox and deer when they met, prevailed over the silence. Not to mention the smell that polluted the world in these streets.

With a silent sigh, Tisja buried her memories behind the cold mask of her expressionless face. At the same time, she kept an eye out for the tavern on Juggler's Alley from under the hood of her cloak. It couldn't be much farther, because according to the directions, the eponymous “alley” was located behind Merchant's Way on the main road on which she was already traveling. <-

[tisjas-writing-notebook]

Small progress :)

-> Siva: ‘Do you really think that will bother us in the least? If I remember correctly, Bo wanted to grab you at the beginning of your apprenticeship and take you to your homeland on his own, however he imagined it. Agda would go into pretty much any conflict for you without hesitation and as for me…’

She held her clay cup up in a playfully arrogant manner and regarded the celebrating crowd in the same prideful way. ‘As for me, m'lady, I suppose the question is what your honoured homeland is able to offer as a reward for my support,’ Siva added with an exaggerated crinkled nose. Even as her best friend was able to direct her gaze to Tiana with her last words, she burst out laughing uncontrollably. The high lady quickly joined in the joyful expression and dropped the charade.

After a while of shared laughter, Siva spoke up while looking absent-mindedly at the sky: ‘Wherever you go, as long as you need us, we are only a call for help away.’

Tiana: ‘I know, but sometimes it's hard to believe.’

Siva: ‘That doesn't matter. I'll remind you often enough that the High

Lady of Hansen and her husband, the forest warden Agda, the Vahnian Almina of Varina and so many more are fighting on your behalf.’

Tiana: ‘You're getting used to the title, huh?’ She gives the Drairi a cheeky grin.

‘I've been faffing about for a while and, to be honest, I quite like it. Not all the bowing and the duties, but the respect and I don't even mean the title - enough about me….,' the Lady said, making a sweeping gesture with her free hand.

Siva: ‘Tell me about your adventures. Bo didn't say much about you in his letters. Most of it was what happened to him and, of course, Reinlingen…’

Tiana (Sighs): ‘If you're planning to talk to Agda about it, you'll probably be disappointed. I've tried everything, but it seems to me that the wounds inflicted by her family are too deep to be healed.’

Siva: ‘Nonsense… For every wound there is a bandage. I'll take care of it, don't worry about it.’ <-

Tales from the High Seas 3 The Dreaming Fire Chapter 6: Lily Song

[tisjas-writing-notebook]

I managed to write a little :)

-> Tiana: ‘To be honest, I'm quite afraid of the future and don't know how to deal with it.’

Siva: ‘But what are you afraid of? I mean, since we've known each other, your path has been rather uncertain, and that never seemed to bother you…’

Tiana takes another sip of her wine and then asks with a pained smile, ’Did I ever tell you about my mother?’

Siva (nods): ‘Sure, her name is Sunja, isn't it?’

Tiana's expression becomes more and more pained. She closes her eyes and takes a heavy breath.

Tiana: ‘Yes and no. She's been my adoptive mother since we came to Drachan. My birth mother is probably – no, most likely – dead, and the nation I come from is in ruins.’

Siva (breathes): ’Tia…’

Suddenly, she embraces Tiana with wet eyes.

Siva: ‘I'm sorry…’

Tiana: “Thanks…’

Siva: ”I can imagine that you are very afraid of going back, but…’

Tiana cuts her off: ‘That's not all… If I go back, I'll have to be the ruler of Malnesia and I don't know if I want that. Polli, a good friend, has offered to smuggle me away – should we make it back to the Old World – but should I accept that? I no longer know what I want from life…’

Siva drinks and replies: ‘To be honest, I'm a little surprised.’

Tiana: ’Why is that?’

She looks at Tiana with a dirty grin and a raised eyebrow, who is sipping her spiced wine.

Siva: ‘You've been strutting around like a born admiral since we met. Morals this and ethics that… As you may recall, I had to drag you along to festive days so that you could have fun.’

Tiana is about to say something, but Siva raises his right index finger in admonishment.

Siva: ‘Well! Mum is right in this matter. At least you learned in the pub while I was trying to set Agda up.’

Tiana: “I helped Bo with his essays.”

Siva: “My point…’

Siva laughs.

Siva: ”Oh Tia, whatever you decide, we're with you.’

She puts an arm around Tiana and raises a glass to her.

Siva: ‘If it's really bad at your place, we'll come with you, of course.’

Tiana (suspiciously): “And how would that work? Agda, Mina and Bo are members of the order and you have obligations here…’

Siva laughs again and replies: ”Do you really think that bothers us in the slightest?" <-

Tales from the High Seas 3 The Dreaming Fire Chapter 6: Lily Song