She sat for a long time at her wagon, staring into the fires puzzling things out in her head. Sometimes solutions were just not simple enough, or the answer was too simple, that it evaded her because she did not want to see it, and to admit to it.
The numbers at the fires of the Ubar grow, which is a good thing. That is the thing about life, people come and go on a fairly regular basis. Some are good, others not so good, and others simply like the wind blowing through a place, here then gone. Take the ones that showed up when they were in Turia. They had proclaimed that they wanted to seek their place within the tribe, but have not been seen since. Just a breeze blowing through camp, nothing more, nothing less.
Then there are those that are returning, that have been gone, but come back. There is nothing wrong with this. So many have gone, then returned that it is hard to keep a tally. They go then return for their own reasons. Take the man that showed up tonight. Ash. This is not a yearling returning to the fold, but more along the lines of an old bull that has wandered off, and has now wandered back. He said he had been......walking. Must have been a long damn walk. She had watched him. Part of him seemed right at home by the fires, but she could also sense a part of him that might be a little lost. How would it feel to return to what you considered a familiar place, to find it was not quite so familiar any more? That the people you knew were gone. To find that the brothers you had stood by in battle are long dead. There were precious few there that remembered him, perhaps that would help him on his return.
And what can you say about Sahli? She had not known him all that well when he was here before. Did that mean she did not like him? Oh Skies no! She had always found him rather interesting in a quirky sort of way. He was different. At the risk of sounding trite, you might say he marched to his own drummer........or drums. All she knows is that when she saw him, he looked a bit lost, unsure. That mother part of her simply wanted to reach out, brush the hair from his brow and assure him that he was back where he belonged, among family and friends, and was safe. There was just something child-like about him that appealed to her, and she was glad to see him back.
The night had been one of celebration, for the most part. Ayguili had taken this night of returns, to add another to their fold. Seveya had earned her place at the fires. Watching, a flood of memories flowed through her, back to when she had been given her rights here by Bosephus. Not everyone was happy that night. In fact, probably the only one that was happy was her. There were those that had spoken, and said they did not feel she had done enough to prove herself worthy. She smiles at these thoughts. Those were the same ones that she considered close family now. She had continued to work hard, and it had paid off. The fact that Tarra had spoken against her that night, only fueled that stubborn part of her and made her work harder. It was probably the best gift the woman could have given her. It had helped to shape her into the woman she was now. Good, bad or indifferent.
She will watch Seveya. Watch her continue to work, to continue to carve her place out here. That is part of the joy of things, watching people make their way in the world. Seveya's story is not finished, but only beginning.
And what would an interesting night be without the return of a special guest? This night was no different. She had helped to serve the celebratory wine, and had just settled down on the platform beside Fonce, when another long lost face appeared from within the shadows. Jaella. She had always liked this young woman. He gentle demeanor, the soft beauty of her features, her quiet way that spoke so loudly.
To see the joy that suddenly transformed the fact of the drummer, the way that just seeing the love of his life, brought out a happiness that she was not accustomed to seeing in him, made her heart ache. To see two people, that so obviously belonged together, reunited, caused an unexpected pain to pierce her heart. But suddenly, she had felt like she did not belong, like an interloper of sorts.
She had reached out to touch Fonce's arm briefly, and told him that maybe they could talk tomorrow, or perhaps the next day. The emotions that had suddenly grasped her were too intense for her to stay and enjoy the celebration. Quietly she had slipped between two wagons and walked in the darkness back to her own.
And that is where she is now, trying to understand that sudden influx of emotions. She is trying to separate them, to categorize them, and to tuck them all away in a safe place. Is jealousy a part of what she is feeling? Probably so. And she is angry at herself for feeling that.
Why should she not be happy for those that have been reunited? She is happy for them, probably more than she can say. But at the same time, there is just such an overwhelming weight of sadness and loss laying on her shoulders, pressing on her chest, that she cannot breathe.
This is one of those times when she feels despair so deeply that she simply wants to let go, to find an end to it, to find peace. It is like standing on the edge of an abyss, and one simple step and she would be gone, it would all be over. The loneliness, the rejection, the loss, the pain. All could be stopped with that one step, the simple putting of one foot before the other into that chasm of the unknown, that right now appeals to her more than the standing on the edge and fighting.
She is tired. Too tired to fight back any longer. But she will continue to fight, for it is not ony her fight, but Ba'atar's. And, she feels like in some way, it is also for her people.
Oh Favored Son of the Sky.......I am here. Can you hear me? Can you feel the love and strength that I send?
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