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The Heartwood
Talesan’s Village
The Docks
Rameday, the Eleventh Day of Scholar

Daxia and Kisa

The Village wasn’t large at all, at least in population. There was, however, an expansive feel to the place. It reminded them of home, in a way. Winter on Sapphire Lake, when the ice started breaking up. One could never tell the true size of a jagged island of ice by the part that rose above the water.

Kisa just cast her guard a curious look, falling in step properly. That was too many years growing up in Court and some habits were not only hard to break, but even harder to notice.

Though it wasn’t hard to notice the change once they stepped west, past the fallen cathedral stones.

It wasn’t that they were bothered, accosted or threatened in any manner. But it was, indeed, as if the sea breeze dropped the temperature a bit. Here the townsfolk were more reserved; they were looked on as strangers and not friends that just hadn’t been introduced. They were not given a wide berth, but folks seemed to always be distant; as if there was some invisible barrier between heiress, guard and those who worked on these piers.

They definitely seemed more rugged than the folks around the Amber Inn. Their skin was ruddy, hard worked and hard baked by the seaside sun. Even the women’s hands were calloused – most of the folks on the piers were women, dour children and old men.

The rest, the young rakes and their fathers, were probably out in the boats.

They did see the tide come in.

It came in like a dragon.

It was a swelling, a roaring, it was like a wall of water that seemed taller than Talantal’s walls, rolling in, unstoppable from the west. It came unrelenting, unyielding, and like thunder it crashed against the carven piers.

They had to be stone because wood would not have survived.

In a single heartbeat, the water went from twenty to thirty feet down to just a handful below the docks. If there had been a boat in port perhaps just its mast would have peeked over the level of the docks. In the time it took to blink, that boat’s deck would now be an easy step on and off.

There was spray, like spring flood water over a rock, but this doused the entire western half of the town.

Kisa covered her head with crossed arms against the sudden downpour, she almost fell from its unexpected strength. And she was right; they were now soaked and a warm bath was something to look forward too.

The fisher folk just shook it off like it was an everyday occurrence. The seawater quickly sheathed off the carved docks, leaving the stone stained and drying beneath her light.

The buildings here were focused on the Bay; they were obviously homes for the fishers, empty while the fleet was at work. There were warehouses to store gear, supplies, and the sea’s harvest. There were shops where nets were made, and their own smith and woodcarver for tending to older boats and the crafting of new.

And, of course, they had their own tavern.

The western end was open; this must be where the boats put in; where nets were mended, sails repaired, and the catch offloaded into the barrows that were lined near the water’s edge.

There was also, what appeared to be a well.

It was located in the main pier’s center, equidistant from its north, west and south sides. At it’s simplest it was simply a circular shaft punched through the stone dock. It was ringed with a wooden barrier, perhaps eight hands high and was covered by a conical roof set on heavy timbers. The wall and roof kept the salty sea from flooding the well.

There were runes, faded and worn, set into the surface of the dock surrounding that shaft.

Horse.

Water.

Time.

Kisa paled.

She had seen something like this before. So had Daxia.

Watching the sunrise from the tallest tower of Dawnview Castle.

Looking down upon the top of Dawnview Temple.

Verchovai Daxia Yurisdotter

She had merely giggled at Kisa’s protestations about not falling down stairs or into ravines. And at the end of the meal, she had waggled her hand.

“Well, it’s the mainland’s very edge, anyway.” Still, she had smiled.

And at Kisa’s following words, she had listened with the same seriousness they had been delivered. She received them with the same softness.

“Da, Kisa. I am very glad, too.” The warrior was uncharacteristically quiet as they walked to the door of the inn. “Da,” she said softly. “A beginning... and even without a ballad being written, there are the happiest of thoughts to think now when Snowgate Pass comes to mind.”

Dazi chuckled at the way Kisa had walked beside her. And at the Heir’s questioning look, she took the young Noble woman’s arm in hers... just the same way she’d walk arm in arm with Bekkah. Indeed, it wouldn’t be too far-fetched to think the two redheads might be sisters. After a few paces, Dazi tilted her head toward Kisa and just whispered, “Dama.”

She wondered, as they walked slowly past the stones of the fallen Cathedral tower, what could have caused such devastation. If this was an Imperial Cathedral — and clearly it was — it had been here only as long as the Bankorpool Empire. Shoddy workmanship might account for it, but the rest of the very large building looked... well, if not in better repair, at least far more structurally sound. Perhaps the men of Hastur would be willing to tell a heathen such as herself the story of their Cathedral.

Although, given the building materials — the honey marble that Dayalans used to build so many structures in the First Age — she would take such tales with a pinch or two of salt. And, because she had learned more than she had ever expected in this great world, she would try to see the truth. The truth as told by the Imperials and the truth beyond the tales told by the Imperial. Most of all, she would hear the tale while still respecting the Imperial point of view.

Is this what it means to be... an adult, mature, having some wisdom? she wondered. To know that there is room for all beliefs? To understand why there is conflict in those beliefs and try my best to not offend or fall prey to my own teachings when conflicts arise? Tcha, I wish Kassia was here to call me a cobble block!

Her only acknowledgment that the fisher folk were different than the farmer folk was a quiet, sad comment to Kisa.

“Ah, another town divided.”

However, a few paces later she added, “I am truly a cobble block, Kisa, for some days I wish I could heal the world. Not only is this not the purview of our Lady, it not a thing that can be accomplished by a single person, or by a single group, or in a single lifetime. So implied Priestess Linette, and I would not argue with such a true and courageous heart even if I had not come to see that truth for myself.”

And that was when the tide came in.

Other than keeping Kisa from falling in the onslaught of water, Daxia did little more than duck her head to keep the water from her eyes. She leaned into the water the same way she might lean into a fierce wind.

“Wow!!” Daxia exclaimed as the two of them stood dripping in the street. “That is amazing! Have the tides always been so fierce, do you think?” she asked poor bedraggled Kisa. “It would be a wonder that the Forgotten Fleet could survive something like that. I wonder how the local fisher folk manage to ride such large waves.”

They continued to the far western end of the town and the docks and the stone pier.

And saw the well.

And understood the implications.

The Starlord Priestess sighed softly.

“And so I stand atop yet another of our Temples.”

It was almost as if she was speaking to herself, however. She didn’t even engage in her habitual thinking out loud chatter. She merely stood near the well and looked out across the Bay.

“I suppose that answers the question about the tides,” she said finally. “And now there’s no need to go searching up and down the coast for something I’ve already found.”

The actual Port of Lys, its location when the East slaughtered the last of the Dayalans to stand against them there... well, that might be something that could be seen at low tide. Or — given the ferocity of the tides — it could be buried farther under the water of the Bay. She had wanted to find the Port because she had wanted to find the Temple.

She found the Temple.

But then she looked at Kisa with true puzzlement.

“It makes no sense, Kisa. The Temple on the Border is midway between the two Temples that once stood at the Starwatch Reaches and the Port of Lys. That is what Verchovai Tashka said.”

Daxia dropped down beside the well, her back to the Sea, and held a hand out to Kisa, inviting her to sit beside her. She wasn’t facing east, but southeast... toward Bordertown.

She just wanted to think, and would certainly be up and out of the fisher folks’ way at the first indication that would be necessary. She didn’t think the boats would return immediately with the incoming tide, although she was by no means certain.

But there was a picture she needed to burn into her mind first.

If the path from the Starwatch Reaches to the Port of Lys was a line, and if the Temple on the Border was the middle of that line, then Starwatch Reaches...

She stitched together a tapestry of all the maps she’d ever seen of the mainland, there in her mind. And she drew a line from the ancient Temple at the Port of Lys to the ancient Temple on the Border. Then she pushed the line out farther, her brow wrinkling in concentration. How could it be possible that the end of the line was there? How could it be at...

“The Starwatch Reaches would be the Temple at Glacier Keep. Near it? Just beyond it?”

She was the very essence of frustration now. It was something that seemed akin to the angry frustration Kisa witnessed in Talantal, but instead of anger there was simply more frustration.

“But there isn’t a Temple at Glacier Keep, is there? How could there be? Wouldn’t I know if there was a Temple there? I was raised in the Temple near Dawnview Castle. I am well-educated. I read every book and scroll I could find in our library, many of them more than once.

“The Starwatch Reaches was abandoned. That’s just Dayalan oral history from tales told about the end of the First Age, the end of the Bright Empire. If the Temple of the Starwatch Reaches is near Glacier, then why was it abandoned?” She paused and then whispered to herself, “Why was anything abandoned then? They came that close to the Vale? Or...

“Or there weren’t enough of us left to support two Temples?”

Dazi stopped, closed her eyes and took a deep breath. She was not going to drive herself into a headache so that Bekkah could chastise her. She waited two handfuls of heartbeats before opening her eyes and looking at Kisa.

“You know, Mistress Ari didn’t even have a chance to give me the tile that you said is waiting for me,” Daxia said, changing the topic completely. She was much calmer now and seemed to have tucked away whatever frustrations she had. “Sea of Storms... there is conflict in the world.

“There is always conflict in the world, so...” Daxia shrugged. “So tell me, my friend, now that we are here and have seen the Sea...

“Am I to look at the Sea as it was when we rode in, or the Sea as it battered an ancient Temple?”

She smiled sweetly then. “You know, it’s so very nice to have you here for so many reasons. One of those reasons being that I can pepper you with questions about your travel message! And that’s excellent because I will be less frustrated — I know you do not want me to start tearing my hair out after you spent so much time trimming it so nicely. And you will learn the kind of things I think about when I see your messages. You will be able to craft messages that will not make me wish you’d just written a letter.”

Daxia grinned and clapped her hands with real happiness.

“Oh, this is so wonderful!

“Now, having learned my lesson about such things with the Sea of Fog, I would note which way the tile faced when first I should look upon it. And as I have seen some of Cesare’s kin about, I would hope to find an answer to the meaning in fairly short order.

“I would wonder then... given that conflict is as certain as Her rising, what conflict might my friend be referencing? A conflict hidden beneath calm waters would mean I must be ever watchful, for this conflict might erupt from any quarter. An unhidden conflict would mean I should observe such things.

“But what is the scope of this conflict? That is something I would wonder. Does my friend mean for me to watch the Great Pattern, or is it as contained as discord between family members. Ah, do not think that is too small a scope, for my little group of misfits is as much family to me as you and Bekkah are! If there is not discord among us, we are so diverse that we have the potential to create discord even where we don’t mean to cause it. You do remember that we caused a bit of a stir in Talantal.

“Still, we are in Talesan’s Village, and so that message in this place would make me think that, perhaps, it has to do with our visit here.

“Since my friend sent the message — when did you send it, by the way? Did you send Katshka off with a large pouch of them, or were some sent after the spring thaw and you received my letters?”

She grinned.

“Well, I wouldn’t know that without you here, so I would think that perhaps my friend sent the message out at the same time she sent all the others.”

Daxia brought her knees up and wrapped her arms around her legs, then rested her cheek on her knees so she could look at Kisa. Her expression was more serious now.

“I would remember Midsummer’s Council and I would wonder if the message was still relevant since the events in Talantal surprised even my friend.”

She was not immune to the sound of the water lapping and sloshing against the “pier.” She closed her eyes again.

“Sometimes... sometimes I remember things like our stories told of this place, and the tales I heard from Tashka, and the events I witnessed at Highside Heather. And I weigh those things against the friendship I have with my sister’s Initiate.”

It seemed like a non-sequitur.

“Linette of Corliss said that one person cannot save the world. Daxia of Dawnview Vale had then replied that one person can make a difference. They’re both right, you know.”

Dazi opened her eyes and smiled softly at Kisa, although she didn’t raise her head from her knees.

“I would rather spend my time talking and walking and simply being with you than figuring out the answers to riddles. I would rather talk about how the clouds form differently over the sea than the mountains. I would rather meet Verchovai Poppy and Thunder Hooves and Kori. I would rather listen to stories told by Dean’s teachers. I would rather get to know the people of Lord Larsen’s holdings, and I would even like to grow fond of them.

“Just tell me what you meant by the message I have yet to receive, and I won’t have to braid ugly ribbons in your hair.

“Pink would look worse in your hair, you know, than it would in Morning Star’s mane.”

The Heartwood
Talesan’s Village
The Docks
Rameday, the Eleventh Day of Scholar

Daxia and Kisa

“Black and silver...”

Kisa looked over her shoulder to her guardian, offering a small and nostalgic smile.

“You remember. Midwinters and Midsummers when I had to be all fancy and pretty for the townsfolks and visiting dignitaries? Black and silver ribbons; didn’t need red for obvious reasons. Sometimes I think, sometimes I know, Mother liked weaving them in more than I liked wearing them.

“You know that I am not allowed to cut my hair, correct? Long red hair is the signature of the Khorall of a Dawnview keep. The people expect it – if the family is large, you can tell immediately who is Khorall and heiress and who is Temple bound.”

Kisa watched the ocean, her head tilting as she caught a glimpse, every now and then, of a sail in the distance.

“It would place the Reach in the Jambles; perhaps beyond. The Jambles are a place where no one goes anymore though some of our odder kin live in its shadows. It is a branch of the Family that does not come to court... in some ways it is even more distant from the Castle than this place.

“They do not like visitors.”

She closed her eyes and set her back to the falling sun.

Her attention returned to the docks.

“How do the boats survive the tide? That is a very good question. My first guess would be they know the sea better than a girl from the far off mountains. Just like you and I can walk an icy rampart without falling and we are not surprised when the path is blocked by a house-high drift that wasn’t there the day before. They know the sea and its whim.

“Or perhaps it is deeper; just like you are tied to the stars and the night time sky they are literally tide-bound. It is not just where they sail their boats, it is their livelihood, their life and death.

“I cannot answer the why I chose that tablet, save that in choosing, it was the stone I selected when I considered Talesan’s Village. It is the nature of our Gift, Daxia. With it we can see so many things but it does not guarantee we can understand what we see.

“I may be stronger than my Mother, but I am not as good at it as my mother. If she was here, I know what she would say.

“She would tell me to look closer.”

The young woman from Dawnview Vale looked across the ancient piers, standing where her relatives had two ages ago.

“I think you already guessed the answer.

“Why does Talesan’s Village have two taverns?”

Verchovai Daxia Yurisdotter

“My mother’s family, you mean. The odd ones.” Daxia shrugs. “Do they dislike family as much as they dislike visitors? Will I be as unwelcomed by kin as I was... well, I suppose I would start with the Dark Mark and merchants in Cragside. I can get all the way to Talantal in telling tales of those who haven’t exactly welcomed me.”

She rests her chin on her knees and looks at the toes of her boots.

And she’s quiet.

For a daughter of Yuri named Daxia, she’s too quiet. In fact, she’s as quiet as Yuri’s other daughter normally is, if not more so.

“Wrong question, Kisa,” she says finally.

“Nearly every town we’ve visited has had more than one tavern. I would be more surprised to find that Talesan’s Village only had a single tavern.”

The Dayalan warrior continued to find much to be interested in around the hem of her tunic and the toes of her boots. But after many fullhand of heartbeats, she finally looked up.

She looked at the docks and the warehouses. She looked at the people working there and giving them a wide berth... at least for the moment. She could easily imagine that the warehouses of Talesan’s Village would be similar to the warehouses of Cragside. Very different... and yet so very much the same.

“The right question would be, if you’re going to ask a question about why, would maybe be why do the folks who farm and the folks who fish seem to have very different views of the world?

“And even that’s not a good question, really. I remember your lessons with your big books. Fishing is a dangerous thing, even on Sapphire Lake. Farming is less so. And so, of course, like I and my sister — a warrior and a healer — fishers and farmers would see the world differently, ni?”

Dazi wondered if it really mattered. She had no doubt that the tile would be as meticulously drawn as all the others had been. And because it was a gift from Kisa, she would treasure it.

The real question — beyond the one Kisa posed, beyond the one she had countered with — was whether or not something should be done in this Village. And whether or not she — or she and her little gang — were the ones to do anything that should be done.

And that made her think of Mikal, and the Troop he was forming with Kadri’s help. They weren’t her little gang anymore, were they? She had avoided thinking about how she felt about all that.

Of course, she’d help Mikal. He was a friend, a swordbrother. And beyond that, she owed him a debt of gratitude for his role at Highside Heather that probably could never be repaid.

But it didn’t feel like a conflict. It was more... one thing ends, and another begins. She felt sad about the ending — a bit, anyway. She wasn’t quite sure yet how she was feeling about the beginning. Not excited, no. But certainly intrigued.

Well, maybe a little excited about the prospect of blending a Troop with so many different sorts of folks. And daunted. Dayalans and Jvrillians working together? On a much larger scale than they did in the Horde?

Tcha!

Better not to think about it right now.

She looked up at Kisa, who had declined her earlier invitation to sit beside her.

“Black and silver are for dressing up.

“Pink is for when you’ve vexed me, Mistress Kisa.”

Daxia stood and tried to brush the dirt from her tunics, but found them rather more stiff and crusty than she expected from the dousing of the sea water.

“Oooh, this is interesting, too. Huh.”

She shrugged and looked at Kisa. “Well, then I suppose we should look closer. At something.

“Although I’m not sure I have the energy for intrigue today. You know,” she said, taking Kisa’s hand in hers and urging the Heir back toward the center of town, “Dandy told me to stay out of Court. One has to wonder if she meant that figuratively — avoiding intrigue — as well as literally.

“I can’t avoid either.

“That ever so slightly scary yet wholly charming Lord Deynnekko told me to stay away from the Blue Robes.

“If I can’t avoid one, why avoid the other?”

She looked at the sky and, seeing that She was still slightly closer to midday than sunset, then tucked Kisa’s arm in hers again.

“Are you interested in the history of the Cathedral? I’m interested in the history of the Cathedral. I’ll bet their stained glass windows were gloriously beautiful when they were all whole and unbroken.”

The Heartwood
Talesan’s Village
The Docks
Rameday, the Eleventh Day of Scholar

Daxia and Kisa

“I stand by my question.”

Kisa lifted her head and gathered herself, looking between sea and forest, taking in the colors of the farmer’s portion of the village and the grayness of the fisherfolk.

“Why does Talesan’s Village have two taverns?”

She repeated herself, making sure the emphasis was clear. Not whether this particular village had two taverns, but what, specifically, were the particular reasons Talesan’s Village had more than one.

“Especially with the Amber Inn within an easy walk; how many men would admit paying good coin for a second or third rate beer unless they had a compelling reason? It is one of those inconsistencies that would, if I were laying out a room full of tiles, make it difficult to determine which one to place next.

“I shall have to mull a bit, I think.”

She tucked herself up against her guardian, bringing back a memory of a certain Scamp’s words, who was probably dealing with the very same thing in her own roughneck manner.

“As for your other question, I believe that might be the slightly nonsensical one.

“No matter how much we both wish we could spend our days watching the sun set over the Sea of Opals – I suspect because of the whims of waves and clouds it would be different every single day – do you really think either of us could turn our backs and not end up doing what is needed?

“Sometimes I feel like no matter how hard I look, how deep I look, there’s still a greater pattern that is directing our actions – a pattern of patterns – that is beyond my ken. Perhaps it is because I also have Rhoni blood and can feel – just a little bit – what a painter of Cards sees when they craft their cards but am too much of an Allaine to be able to loosen my focus and understand it.

“So I step back, look at what I have and not to what I don’t.

“Like having a Knight to share my path. I’ve never been on an adventure before. I’m a bit jealous.”

She smiled as they slowly turned, to walk across the stone towards the Village’s most prominent and still tallest structure.

“I am interested in this Cathedral just as I am interested at our Astrologers. Both are a mystery to me. But blood warms against the snow. They are your family; that should count for something.”

They approached from the west, which meant from the side of the fallen tower. Only the top portion had collapsed, sending its brick and stone this way and that. A few children chased each other over the rubble; one group were playing who could climb the highest – with another pair, more dour, seeing how far they could throw rocks.

The windows seemed tougher than they appeared, missing only a few panes here and there.

Rounding the corner they discovered that they were not the only ones who had decided to visit. Bekkah was there, in conversation with a very old man, one not dressed in blue but in the colors of Lord Rames the Protector.

“First, I request that you do not get eaten by bears.”

It was an odd thing for anyone to say in casual conversation. But it wasn’t a bad thing. One might guess. The old man rubbed his chin, concentrating as if weighing most important matters. He seemed to be reciting a list.

“Second, you shall have dinner with us. I shall make you a salad.”

The old man patted the stone step beside him.

“You know what is sad? Sad is making a salad and cutting up cabbage. You slice and dice, yes, yes, but first you cut the cabbage in half, only to discover that its center is bad, where no one, not even Lord Rames, Lord Hastur or even Lady Attera could see, all black and twisted.

“That is a very sad cabbage.”

He looked to Bekkah.

“Tell me of your apprentice.”


<<Please join Bekkah in her thread, since you decided to go in her direction! >>

Verchovai Daxia Yurisdotter

She just smiled at Kisa.

“Stand by your question. Sit by it, do cartwheels with it, tie it to a string like a kite.

“It makes no difference, Kisa. Besides, I think Talesan’s Village has three taverns. When we were overlooking the Village from the rise with Lord Larsen, I could see two buildings on the fisher folk side that had the look of taverns.”

Dazi sighed.

“Some things are just as true on a grand scale as they are on a small scale. Simply looking at the mainland, we know that those in the East do not like us... and we do not like them. Why? Hmm, well, that would get into quite the lengthy discussion. But the why of that starts before the Shattering Wars.

“Montague is more than a little displeased with even their former allies... and the other Noble Families have varying degrees of dislike for Montague.

“There are factions within towns.

“There are disagreements within guilds.

“The miller and smith who live across from one another have a feud.

“Why do any of these things happen? There’s a reason for all of it, to be sure.”

She shook her head.

“The madness that is Cragside contains more tension than Talesan’s Village. In Cragside, I felt active hostility against me. From some. Here, I feel a cold disregard. From some.

“I discovered the reason for the hostilities in Cragside. I have more reasons to dislike Cragside than like it. That doesn’t mean I won’t go back... it’s almost going to be a requirement if I’ll be going back to the Vale more often than every handful of years.”

She shrugged. She was frustrated, perhaps, trying explain to Kisa things for which Kisa had no true frame of reference.

“Kisa...” She stopped for a moment to watch the children playing among the building blocks of the fallen Cathedral tower before looking at her friend again. “Yes. There is... an unrest in Talesan’s Village. The East drove us out. It became the Jvrillian’s for a time, although I can’t see soldiers actually holding and ruling a town for an Age. Who knows what happened here between the time Talesan Tornblade’s followers lost interest and Derrick and Lhannon Bankorpool came here? We know the East didn’t get past Silk Creek, but right now that’s all we know.

“Is it necessary to know more? I don’t know. Right now, I don’t feel a burning desire to know the whole history of Talesan’s Village.

“I have to think my lack of interest means something. From Cragside to Talantal, I was driven to learn why things were happening. I was driven to do all I could do to make things right. And here... here I feel it best to just let things be the way they are.

“Why is this conflict so important to you?

“Why not the conflict between the Nightyenska and the rest of Dawnview? If blood counts for something, maybe that is where my greatest efforts should lie. Do Tieg Larsen’s holdings hold more import than yours? Is it simply that we are here now... and there is always some wrong for me to be righting?”

She paused in her train of thought. “Perhaps it is Mikal’s turn to right a wrong if there is, indeed, a wrong that must be righted. He wants his own Troop, and his Troop will play some role in keeping the Heartwood safe, ni?” Dazi shrugged.

“I came here to see the edge of the world... well, the edge of the mainland, anyway. I was even able to see it with you, which makes it all the better. I wanted to find the Port of Lys and our Temple here. I’ve done that. It allowed me to estimate where our third Temple is... and gives me yet another reason to visit family beyond Glacier Keep. Are there more of my Sisters under a curse here? Dear Dayala, I hope not. I’m not crawling down that well to find out, however. I would prefer not to drown.”

She stared at the children playing, she wondered were had Dydd dragged Dean off to. She realized that the Temple on the Border really is the only place to establish a Dayalan presence outside the Vale. She would have liked to believe someone at the Dawnview Temple knew the ways of casting Ironsilver, but suspected that will not be the case. That secret will likely be at Starwatch Reaches. She wondered again where Dean went. Well, she’d probably be better off worrying about her own Squire.

“I need to visit Kirill Mikaelsson; Morning Star and I need to train with him, we need to learn to work together. I’d like to see how well the Scamp does with Fern. But that is for tomorrow.”

Daxia attempted a smile as she tucked Kisa’s arm in hers again.

“Today, I would like to see the Grand Cathedral.”


<<We'll join Bekkah after Bekkah posts.>>

The Heartwood
Talesan’s Village
The Docks
Rameday, the Eleventh Day of Scholar

Daxia and Kisa

"Why is this conflict important to me..."

Kisa's shoulders rose and fell. The Dawnview heiress looked down, looked down and dragged her foot across the carved stone pavers; the carved stone that was actually a rooftop, not a street.

"It's the difference between Dawnview and Talantal.

"Of course I am concerned about the Nightyenska. Except, right now, I am here.

"My very first lesson, the tile that starts my life...

"I am a Noble. And the purpose of a noble is to serve the people.

"It shouldn't matter who they are, right?"

She smiled, leaning upon her best friend.

"You can smile for real, Dazi. We will have a busy day tomorrow, and today, I would like to see the Cathedral too.

Verchovai Daxia Yurisdotter

“Da, Kisa, I can smile,” she said. And then proved her point by smiling.

“I do understand what you’re saying, Kishka. Truly I do.” Dazi leaned her head against Kisa’s. “It’s just that... Well, I’m not a Noble. I’m a Dayalan warrior.

“Nobles serve the people. We protect them. It’s... it’s not the same thing.”

She took a deep breath, smiling even more at the smell of the salt in the air. And on her clothing and in her hair, too, for that matter.

“You’re right. There’s a time for discussions of philosophy, and that time isn’t right now.

“Now it’s time to see a Cathedral.”


<<we can close this one now>>