EricWald
CitrusArms
Snowdrops
Rapture
Cao the Exiled
Talvinter
Daxam
IAmAugustReign
NarilDarin liked Ms. Iari. Somehow when she called the human child it didn’t feel the same was when the Sols called her that. Ms. Iari was so old that to her everyone was a child. Darin had a feeling she even called the Sota-Sol “Child.” Darin almost wanted to see the Sols and this woman interact. She had a feeling that the Sols didn’t try anything funny with this woman. Darin flitted from place to place following the woman’s instructions. This was fun and fulfilling and Darin found herself covered in all sorts of ingredients. To see Ajoran steal more than one lifted her heart and seeing Ms. Iari planned other variations of frybread was just perfection. She had to share with Ridahne so, she eagerly followed Ajoran to the roof for good food and good friends.
Though what happened when they got there was not what Darin was expecting. Here was Ridahne, looking as beautiful as ever in her black silk. As was common Darin felt plain next to her in her cotton and leather. Yet Ridahne seemed exhausted and mentally stretched. Darin was tired but mostly refreshed. What had happened during this “baking?” What had she learned about the Red Hand that would rattle her this much? Darin was almost tempted to have Ajoran stay, but this was what Darin had wanted practically gotten to Tasen. She wasn’t going to be a coward. Yet, she didn’t want to hear that the man was dead. She was still prepared to hear it, so the actual request caught her completely off guard.
Darin stuttered for a moment, “Um. Um. Martin son of Gregory by Alice. There’s not much to say about him. If the stories are to be believed the elders claimed that he had the “wandering blood.” No one thought that he was going to stay in out little village. Then he started to flirt with the prettiest girl in the village. Talia told him that she wasn’t going to be a “roll in the hay,” that she wanted commitment. So, he stayed. They started a farm together. They had me. He left. We mourned. The stories say he was fairly handsome himself. I’m not so sure I believe that. Apparently, I look like him. Brown hair, brown skin, brown eyes.” Her fingers came up to touch the corner of her eye, “Though mine are green now. I imagine that his are still brown. But if I do look like him I doubt he was attractive. I’m not bad looking, but I’m not pretty either. Though maybe these features look better on a male. That might make sense.” Darin thought for a moment, “That man he said something that made you think Martian has a connection to the Red Hand. What was it?”
Suddenly thoughts of telling Ridahne that she was jealous of Ajoran, that she was homesick, that she was questioning what to do next. Darin wanted to feel betrayed by the thought of Martian being part of the Red Hand but couldn’t seem to find it her to care. If he was Red Hand it was just another betrayal. Was it really betrayal if Martian didn’t know his daughter was The Seed-Bearer? Maybe she was betraying her father by being The Seed-Bearer. Though thinking of Martin as her father felt simultaneously wrong and heartbreaking. Was he really her father? Well that was a dumb question. Whether Darin liked it or not she was the daughter of Martin by Talia. Nothing would ever change that. Not the Red Hand, not The Tree or The Seed, not even her own feelings on the matter.
Though what happened when they got there was not what Darin was expecting. Here was Ridahne, looking as beautiful as ever in her black silk. As was common Darin felt plain next to her in her cotton and leather. Yet Ridahne seemed exhausted and mentally stretched. Darin was tired but mostly refreshed. What had happened during this “baking?” What had she learned about the Red Hand that would rattle her this much? Darin was almost tempted to have Ajoran stay, but this was what Darin had wanted practically gotten to Tasen. She wasn’t going to be a coward. Yet, she didn’t want to hear that the man was dead. She was still prepared to hear it, so the actual request caught her completely off guard.
Darin stuttered for a moment, “Um. Um. Martin son of Gregory by Alice. There’s not much to say about him. If the stories are to be believed the elders claimed that he had the “wandering blood.” No one thought that he was going to stay in out little village. Then he started to flirt with the prettiest girl in the village. Talia told him that she wasn’t going to be a “roll in the hay,” that she wanted commitment. So, he stayed. They started a farm together. They had me. He left. We mourned. The stories say he was fairly handsome himself. I’m not so sure I believe that. Apparently, I look like him. Brown hair, brown skin, brown eyes.” Her fingers came up to touch the corner of her eye, “Though mine are green now. I imagine that his are still brown. But if I do look like him I doubt he was attractive. I’m not bad looking, but I’m not pretty either. Though maybe these features look better on a male. That might make sense.” Darin thought for a moment, “That man he said something that made you think Martian has a connection to the Red Hand. What was it?”
Suddenly thoughts of telling Ridahne that she was jealous of Ajoran, that she was homesick, that she was questioning what to do next. Darin wanted to feel betrayed by the thought of Martian being part of the Red Hand but couldn’t seem to find it her to care. If he was Red Hand it was just another betrayal. Was it really betrayal if Martian didn’t know his daughter was The Seed-Bearer? Maybe she was betraying her father by being The Seed-Bearer. Though thinking of Martin as her father felt simultaneously wrong and heartbreaking. Was he really her father? Well that was a dumb question. Whether Darin liked it or not she was the daughter of Martin by Talia. Nothing would ever change that. Not the Red Hand, not The Tree or The Seed, not even her own feelings on the matter.