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@denali-christianson

Hey just wanted to let you know that Leytera’s 17…

Sorry I forgot to make that clear… She’s just small-boned, that’s all.

SO, funny story, that’s actually the age I pictured her XD Sahar just talks that way to everyone she’s comfortable with XD (Niarok, Qatar, and Yila kinda scare her, though she isn’t letting on XD) Even Liorah, who is a head taller than her and one minor inconvinience removed from arson at any given time XD (Even funnier, Liorah likes it when Sahar calls her sappy endearments XD)

I like Leytara already! I can’t wait to see where this goes!

Acyn

“Yeah.” Quin paused, “Two: little sister Grace–she’s twelve, almost thirteen.  She has Pa’s blonde hair, and Mama’s dark eyes–as green as a fir tree. Then there’s Garrick. He’s twenty-two.”

Blonde hair. That confirmed my idea that they were from farther north than Sahar or I.

“Like it? I heard siblings can be a pest sometimes,” I smiled, rather wryly.

I had no experience with it, but I’d seen Sahar with her two older sisters, Ferran with his little sister, and of course, Gavril and Liorah.

All of them, but especially Liorah and Gavril, seemed to exist to annoy the other as much as humanly possible but they also somehow had a special bond that I couldn’t quite understand. I knew either of them would die for the other, no questions asked, but if either touched the other’s possessions or was more than moderately annoying, they were always on the point of murdering each other instead.

“And you–you’re an only child?” Quin asked, then seemed to get shy and scrambled to correct himself.

“Er, I mean to say, where did you grow up? What’s it like?”

I nodded, unbothered by his question.

“No, I don’t have siblings. I don’t know if I should be grateful or sorry. As for that, where didn’t I grow up? The most specific I can be is the eastern half of the country, most of the time.”

I leaned back, trying to summarize the first thirteen years of my life.

“As for what it was like… We traveled around a lot. I’ve seen a lot of the country, but I’m glad I can stay in one place now. It’s a lot less–” I gestured vaguely. “Unstable.”

Was it too much of a sacrifice, giving up my parents’ presence to have a steady routine, a place to call home? No, it wasn’t. It sounded harsh and I wouldn’t have said it out loud, but things were far more pleasant when they weren’t around. I liked Magister Azriel, we usually got along and he was never harsh. My parents meant well, but we inevitably clashed.

I shook my head, driving out the unwelcome thoughts. I was talking too much again.

“And you? I thought you said you were a farmer?”

Niarok was shouting into the void. I glanced up, then decided to let him live his life. Who was I to judge coping methods?

Sahar kicked off her slippers and crossed the stream. I made a mental note to remind her not to forget them this time.

There was another voice in the mingle of voices. A girl’s voice that wasn’t Yila or Sahar.

Yila and Niarok turned away and came back toward us again. Now I could see a small girl with dark curly hair, right next to Sahar.

“So, what was that about a castle? Isn’t this a cave? And where exactly is it? Are we in Arctashia still, or did the Fringe throw me into a different world?”

Sahar hesitated and fastened the scarf around her hair again.

“Heavens, that isn’t an easy question. I wish I knew. None of us actually know.”

The question would be easier if I had understood more than every other word. Fringe? Arctashia?

Niarok and the girl seemed to come to an agreement that neither of them would kill the other. Good.

I slowly started over toward them, but didn’t cross the stream. It was too cold.

“So what’s going on?” the girl who had introduced herself as Leytara asked.

“We’re all doomed to die horribly and now you’ve joined us. I’m Acyn,” I said, ominously.

Sahar glared at me.

“Was that necessary?”

“It’s the truth,” I said, surprised. Why was she suddenly so annoyed at me? Had I done something wrong?

“It’s the worst version of the truth. The rest of the truth is that nobody has actually gotten hurt besides Yila and we’ll probably be fine.”

I snorted disdainfully.

“Manage your expectations. My expectation is that I’m going to die.”

“You certainly won’t be disappointed,” Sahar grumbled, gathering her skirts and crossing the stream again.

I tilted my head and looked at her.

“Something wrong? You seem annoyed.”

She glared at me from which I assumed I had somehow done something that irritated her to no end. What? I raked one hand through my brown hair.

Why couldn’t she just tell me what I’d done wrong?

“Remember your shoes,” I said, quietly.

She spun around and put on her shoes again but didn’t look at me.

I had somehow, inadvertantly, annoyed her beyond comprehension.