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Sahar

The girl’s brother knelt beside the stream, washing the blood out of his clothes and off his skin.

I only hoped he wouldn’t try to drink it. Hopefully, he knew enough. I wasn’t about to warn him until I was sure he was about to drink it. I didn’t want to come across as a know-it-all.

He tasted the water, but carefully, like he knew what he was doing.

Not my problem. I closed my eyes and leaned back against the wall. I was so tired.

Suddenly, I sensed someone ahead of me. I opened my eyes, abruptly. It was him. Water still dripped from his hair and over his face. In my surprise, I didn’t mask my expressions as well as I might have.

He lowered his head, trying to make it obvious that he wasn’t trying to be invasive. I appreciated that.

“I just wanted to thank you for helping my sister earlier. I appreciated the extra set of muscles.”

I smiled, but barely. It seemed suspicious. I knew I wasn’t much help. Still, it was sweet of him to thank me.

“Of course,” I said.

He reached into a pouch at his belt and produced some herbs.

“The water isn’t poisonous, but you’ll want to put these herbs in your water skin when you fill it if you want to avoid ingesting bacteria.”

He dropped the herbs into my hand. Before I could thank him, he left.

“Hey, thanks.” I called after him, only hoping he’d hear.

I examined the herbs. Dried, and fine, obviously previously prepared. I smelled them, and they smelled earthy, with the faintest hint of sweetness, like the plants we would dry for pigments. I smiled. It smelled like sunshine, not in the same way that honey did, but similar.

He wouldn’t try to harm me. Somehow, I was fairly sure of that.

I would rather be caught dead than without water on me at all times. It was one of the effects of growing up in a desert.

There wasn’t much left, and what was left tasted more of leather than of water, but I drank the last swallow anyway. Wasting water was practically a sin.

I filled the water skin and, after a second’s hesitation, poured the herbs into the opening. It might need some time to work, so I didn’t immidiately take a sip.

The newcomer was kneeling next to his sister. My eyes widened and a sudden grin spread across my face as I realized she was concious and talking to Lorcan.

The newcomer slowly got up, leaving his sister with Lorcan. I shot them another look and realized the girl was blushing. I tilted my head inquisitively. Odd.

She was also shooting Lorcan looks that Liorah would describe as ‘sheep’s eyes’. I couldn’t help smiling as I realized the inevitable. Oh, this was romantic.

I stored the thought in the back of my mind, to be contemplated later.

I just barely caught the girl introducing herself as Yila and her brother as Niarok. Unusual names, but nice ones.

I followed after Niarok, but he was talking to someone else and I waited off to the side.

I shot a glance over to find Acyn. He had found an interesting rock by the side of the stream. I rolled my eyes. Usually, Acyn’s passion for— well, everything, was endearing, but I was annoyed with him so it was merely frustrating.

“— And it was braver to want well-being for someone else, even if it means causing pain for yourself.”

Niarok started to turn away, then caught my eye.

“Thanks for the herbs, I really needed the water,” I said, trying to force a laugh. It wasn’t working.

“And water-poisoning isn’t how I’m planning to die so—“ I wasn’t making sense, so I decided to cut the banter and get straight to the point.

“Don’t hate Acyn too much. I mean, he’s annoying as anything, but he really means well,” I said, quiet enough that he couldn’t hear it. I changed my mind halfway through my sentence and instantly contradicted myself.

“You know what, scratch that, you can dislike him as much as you like. Might do him some good, he has the tendency to think he’s the greatest gift to mankind. Blame it on his parents.”

I forced myself to take a sip of water before I yanked all out Acyn’s skeletons out of their designated closets. My statement had made it sound as though Acyn’s parents thought he was incredible, and the contradiction between that and reality was so absurd I almost laughed.

Acyn only saw his parents once a year, at most. Usually shortly after exams, which was just another reason we all hated that time. Acyn hated it because he was nervous and studied so much we barely saw him, and we hated it because he was irritable and often vented his generalized frustration by getting offended and taking his frequent arguments with Liorah a little further than needed.

His parents were respected researchers in their respective fields, both something to do with plants. They were away constantly. Before his apprenticeship to Magister Azriel, Acyn had traveled with them. He’d once told me he saw them even less then.

The only thing I clearly saw his parent’s influence in was his unhealthy tendency to equate his academic performance (and ability to impress people with it) to his worth.

And of course, I knew this and he hadn’t even realized it. It was a ridiculous situation.

I realized I’d said too much already and twirled away from Niarok, already hating myself for oversharing.

_______

It somehow felt more characteristic for Sahar to share Acyn’s backstory than for him to share it himself XD (Sorry if that was an infodump, but this isn’t Actual Serious Writing stuff so I actually don’t care enough to edit it out XD)

Also, speaking of long posts XD