Chandra Jahazia Ignatius Preston, called Jahazia by those who knew her, stared at the blank page. She was using expensive paper for a rough draft, but the daughter of High Priestess Laleldær Silverfire and High Priest Camillus Preston was allowed any luxuries she wanted, even if she was a failure and no longer a Priestess of Cra. If only the words would flow from the tip of her feather quill and onto the expensive paper. But Jahazia had been staring at the blank page for nearly an hour now, and words were not forthcoming.
Sighing, Jahazia dug into a desk drawer and pulled out a bottle of a noxious-green liquid: absinthe.
Absinthe. Jahazia’s only companion. The highly-alcoholic beverage was the only thing that kept her alive.
She didn’t normally drink the bitter stuff straight, but… Uncorking the bottle of illegal alcohol, Jahazia began drinking herself into a stupor.
As she began to pass out, she thought to herself,
How did all this happen?
~*~
Daedalus Argyris smiled at his wife. They’d been married for twelve years, and he didn’t regret a moment of it. True, marrying the daughter of the High Priest and Priestess was odd to say the least, especially for a starving author such as himself, but he loved Jahazia far too much to care.
They were currently an hour away from their home in New Pizcra, sitting in a pleasant glade in the Dark Forest. Their daughter, Anastasia, or Stasia, who was a mere five years old, was running around, laughing.
Everything was perfect.
“Daddy! Mommy! Come!” Stasia ordered. Smiling fondly, her parents obeyed. “We are going to dance now,” Stasia informed them. Her parents complied. Dancing was more running in circles than anything else, but Stasia was entertained.
That was when it happened.
Daedalus was running around near the edge of the clearing, laughing, not paying attention to his feet. He tripped on a tree root that had escaped from the surface of the earth. Still smiling, Jahazia ran over to help her husband up.
“Are you alright? Come, Daedalus; we don’t want to stop the dance for too long.” Daedalus didn’t move. “Daedalus? Honey? Are you ok?” Jahazia touched her husband on the shoulder. There was no response. “Daedalus. Come one; this isn’t funny.” Still no reply. Jahazia grabbed her husband’s shoulder and rolled him onto his back. His eyes stared up at her blankly. “Daedalus?” Pulse quickening, Jahazia shook him slightly. When there was no response, she checked his pulse.
“Mommy? What is it? Why are you crying? Is Daddy ok?” Jahazia couldn’t answer her daughter; she was sobbing too hard.
~*~
“… broken neck. I am sorry, Jahazia. I wish I could say something else. But… He’s dead.” Jahazia nodded dumbly. She’d known before the healer had told her. It was obvious; Daedalus was gone.
“Go home,” the healer ordered. “Take care of Stasia. She’ll need you, now.” Jahazia didn’t argue. She simply turned and left.
~*~
Jahazia wandered absently through her empty house. Daedalus had been buried this morning. Stasia was staying with her Jahazia’s parents, leaving Jahazia alone. Jahazia had been told she could stay with her parents, or at the temple, or with her twin brother, Cael (who had also offered), but she’d turned them all down. She wanted to be alone.
Daedalus’s belongings lay strewn about the house, where he’d left them on that fateful morning. Papers, pens, ink… Daedalus had been a writer. Picking up a piece of parchment, Jahazia read it. It held some of the last words Daedalus had ever written. This would have been his finest work; he loved the story, the characters, and the world. So different from their own… Fantasy was not a popular genre, but Daedalus didn’t care. A pity he hadn’t been able to finish his masterpiece…
Then Jahazia was struck with an idea. She wouldn’t be half as good as her husband, but it was the least she could do. She’d finish his story. It wouldn’t be that hard; Daedalus had spent hours telling her every miniscule detail about his world. It would take time, but Jahazia could do it. She’d have to write several drafts, so that the part she added on was written in Daedalus’s style, but she could definitely do it.
Drying her tear-stained face with her handkerchief, Jahazia sat down at Daedalus’s desk and began to read his story.
~*~
Time passed. Stasia came home for a few months, but Jahazia had no desire to care for her daughter, only to write her novel, so her brother, Caelestis took Stasia to his house to be raised by him. Jahazia didn’t visit her daughter. She didn’t visit anyone. She grew more and more reclusive. Her old friends tried to help her, but eventually gave up, and went back to their lives. Her parents tried to convince her to live in their house where they could keep an eye on her, but Jahazia refused. They told her she was always welcome in the Temple of Cra, but Jahazia did not return to the Priestess quarters she had lived in before her marriage. She stopped going to Temple altogether, instead choosing to worship at home, away from people. She eventually stopped worshipping altogether. She no longer answered when someone knocked on her door. There was only one thing she thought of; her husband’s novel.
Her daily routine was interrupted one bright winter morning nearly a year after her husband’s death. She was sitting at his desk, writing furiously, when a knock sounded on the door. As usual, she chose to ignore it. Even when it sounded again, she did not get up.
She did look up when she heard the door open.
“Jahazia!” It was her twin brother, Caelestis. “Bright Lady! You look awful! Are you eating anything? When was the last time you slept? Bright Lady…”
“I’m fine, Cael. How did you get it?”
“I got Edonil to teach me how to pick locks,” he responded, naming a family friend. “Are you sure you’re ok? No one’s seen you in ages! Bright Lady, Jahazia, you’re pale as a ghost! When was the last time you slept?”
“I don’t know…” she said slowly, trying to remember. She hated him for breaking the dream-like state she’d been living in, but he was her twin, and they were very close before Daedalus’s death. “Not last night… The night before, maybe. Or maybe the night before that…”
“The night before last?! Jahazia, that’s not healthy! Why aren’t you sleeping?”
“I have to finish Daedalus’s book, Cael. It was his masterpiece, and he never got to finish it.”
“Bright Lady…” He peered at her face. “When was the last time you ate? No, don’t answer that!” he said, changing his mind. “I probably don’t want to know. Come on.” He grabbed her arm and dragged her towards the door.
“What? Where are we going?”
“You’re coming to my house. I’ll come back for your stuff. But first I’m making you something to eat, and I imagine you don’t have much in this hole of yours.”
~*~
He dragged Jahazia all the way to his house, made her a huge meal, and watched her eat every bite. Only when he was satisfied did he let her stop. But he didn’t let her write; he picked her up and carried her to a couch in the sitting-room, where he covered her with an old quilt from the cupboard and told her to sleep.
Jahazia would argue, but she couldn’t; she was too tired. She had entered the deep oblivion of sleep before he’d left the room.
~*~
Under Cael’s care, Jahazia slowly recuperated. Her writing still bordered obsession, but Cael saw to it that she remained healthy. He also saw to it that Stasia moved in with his parents, to keep her from seeing her mother in her manic state.
Unfortunately, Cael was only a man, not a god, and could not keep Jahazia in her safe little life forever. Before long, something broke the peacefulness of the house.
That something was a woman named Rajani Nila Alantha-Anulo-Onoir’Delomaeth, known by most as Jani.
Jani was the daughter of Edonil, and as such, she was a close friend of the family. She was also a flirt. A beautiful flirt. Most men did not stand a chance around her. In fact, only one man had ever managed to refuse her.
Regrettably for the Preston family, that man was not Cael.
When Jani arrived, it was mid-afternoon, and Cael had run out to see his mother. Jahazia was working on her husband’s novel when someone knocked on the door. Cael had long since ordered his twin to answer the door, so with a sigh, Jahazia did.
“Jahazia? My gosh, I haven’t seen you in ages! How have you been? My gosh, you’re pale. Have you been ill? Oh, give me a hug. Is Cael about?” Jahazia stood there speechless for a few second before getting her bearings.
“Jani… I’ve been alright, I suppose. I haven’t been ill; I’ve just been spending my time indoors. Here’s your hug.” Jahazia gave Jani a rather stiff hug, which Jani returned warmly. “Cael isn’t home right now. He’s with Mother.”
“Really? When will he be back?”
“I don’t know. Soon, I suppose.”
“Then I’ll wait here. We can catch up!” Jani stepped inside, shut the door, and practically dragged Jahazia into the sitting room.
Jani then proceeded to have a rather one-sided conversation. Jahazia made small noises when Jani seemed to require and answered questions in monosyllables. Jani really didn’t mind; she loved hearing herself talk.
“Jani?” Both girls looked up as Cael entered the room. “When did you get here? Why are you here?” His eyes narrowed.
“I have some things I wish to discuss with you.”
“Really? Fascinating. Uh… Jahazia, I suppose you want to work on your novel; why don’t you do that, and let me talk with Jani. Ok?”
“Alright.” Jahazia had no complaints. This was the first time he’d ever wanted her to write, but Jahazia was beyond noticing little things like that.
Jahazia focused everything on her novel. It was her life. She didn’t think about Cael and Jani in the other room. She didn’t care what they were talking about. Until,
“WHAT?!” That got Jahazia’s attention; Cael didn’t normally raise his voice. She’d buried all curiosity under her depression, but a tiny fragment of it resurfaced. She quietly got up and walked over to the sitting-room door.
“Yes, I am.” That was Jani, sounding incredibly smug.
“But… I… Jani…” Cael sounded like the world had ended.
“Your parents won’t take it too hard, will they?” Jani sounded downright sadistic.
“Are you kidding? High Priest and High Priestess, remember? Oh, Cra, they’re gonna kill me…”
“Stop whining.”
“I can’t do this. Really, I can’t. Not only will my parents kill me, but Jahazia won’t be able to take this-”
“Take what, Cael?” Jahazia asked, stepping into the room.
“Oh! Jahazia! You aren’t writing… That’s good…”
“What won’t I be able to take?” Jahazia glared at Cael, using what he had once called her ‘super stare-down powers’. He flinched.
“Oh, nothing. Just a little thing with me and Jani…”
“Cael, our child is not nothing!” Jani admonished. Turning to Jahazia, she added, “A few months ago, when she were holed up in your house, Cael and I were dating. I’m pregnant.” Cael flinched again.
“Oh!” Jahazia didn’t quite know what to say.
~*~
Jahazia lay in bed, staring at the ceiling, thinking. Cael? And Jani? Cael was a goody-goody; he’d never…
But he had.
This isn’t fair! While I’m suffering because of my true love’s death, Cael goes out and get himself a girlfriend and they act immorally… It’s not fair! He should have been morning Daedalus’s death! Everyone should still be morning Daedalus’s death! I am! I hate them all…
I can’t sleep. Why does he make me sleep? He probably hasn’t been sleeping much. It’s not fair… What time is it? It’s not that late. Maybe I should go out and get drunk. That sounds like a good idea…
Jahazia silently got up and pulled on an old dress. Then she tiptoed towards the front door of the house. She reached for the door-knob and-
“Jahazia? What are you doing?” Jahazia turned to face her brother.
“Going out. I… I want to see people again. You can’t keep me locked up!”
“At this time of night?”
“I’ll… I’ll…” Jahazia couldn’t think of anything to say.
“Ok, ok, I get it… I won’t tell Mom. Here, take this.” Cael handed Jahazia a few coins. “Don’t get too drunk.”
“Alright.” Jahazia was very grateful for her brother’s understanding. Of course, judging by his current appearance, he’d consumed a bit of liquor himself.
Normally, Jahazia would have been shocked, but the manically depressed on not often shocked. So instead she simply accepted it and went to the closest tavern to get drunk.
~*~
That wasn’t the last time Jahazia got drunk. In fact, it soon became a habit. She was bordering on alcoholism when Cael finally stopped her. (He probably would have stopped her sooner, but was too preoccupied with surviving his mother’s wrath to do so.) But even when he no longer let her go out to taverns, Jahazia still found ways to get drunk. She’d sneak out late at night, when he was asleep. She bought vodka, and when Cael asked her what she was drinking, she’d tell him it was water.
And then she met Alessandro.
She was walking through the poorer district of New Pizcra with a bottle of rum in her hand, when a dark-coated figure walked up to her. He glanced at the bottle in her hand and smirked.
“Rum? My lady, surely you can do better than that! Perhaps you would like to buy some of my wares? I specialize in less-than-legal liqueurs.” She’s wasn’t quite drunk yet, so Jahazia thought it over.
“Less-than-legal liqueurs? I see… What do you have?”
“I just received a shipment of absinthe, if you would like some.”
“Absinthe? I don’t think I’m familiar with it…”
“I imagine not. Let me show you.” The man took a glass bottle out of his coat pocket. Inside was a noxious-green liquid. “This is absinthe. Made from wormwood, it is a bitter liqueur that is generally diluted with sugar-water. If you are looking to get drunk, this is definitely the alcohol for you; it is 45-85% alcohol.”
“You don’t say…” Jahazia looked at the mesmerizing fluid. So pretty…
“But I do. And for you, my lady, I will part with this bottle for a single gwana.”
“A gwana?! You have got to be joking!”
“Absinthe is illegal, my lady. Most would not part with it for less than three gwana.” Jahazia bit her lip.
“Very well. A gwana.” She handed over four large bronze coins- she did not normally carry gwana on her person, but four nara equalled one gwana- and clutched the glass bottle tightly.
“Now, my lady, would you like me to show you how absinthe is prepared?”
Absinthe was wonderful. Simply wonderful. When she’d drunk enough of it, she felt happy and excited, and sometimes Daedalus came to visit her. He was so kind… He agreed that people should be still mourning his death. He thought that Cael should be too sad to have had an affair with Jani.
Alessandro Arena, the absinthe-dealer, agreed, too.
Alessandro was very kind. Once she started buying it regularly, he bumped the price down to a single sha, half his original price. That was a good thing; she didn’t have much money. Her parents would only lend her money for so long.
But who cared? So long as she had absinthe, she had Daedalus. And between that and Daedalus’s novel, she had happiness.
~*~
“Jahazia!” Jahazia yawned. She’d fallen asleep while writing her novel. How odd. Why…? Then she remembered; she’d been drinking absinthe.
“What the? Why were you asleep?” Cael walked over to the desk. “You looked tired… Have you been sneaking out? Oh, Jahazia, tell me you haven’t been sneaking out!”
“Uh… I was here last night. I… I think I was writing late into the night, and just fell asleep.”
“I see… What’s that?” Jahazia followed Cael’s gaze. When she saw what he’d seen-
Oh shoot!
“What on Thrae?” Cael picked up the (now empty) bottle. “A bottle?” He turned it over and read the label. “Absinthe?!” He stared at her. “Jahazia… Please tell me this isn’t your bottle.”
“Uh…”
“Bright Lady… Absinthe? Couldn’t you find something a little less lethal? Bright Lady… I have to go. You just stay here. And don’t leave. And for Cra’s sake, don’t drink anything but water!” He then raced out the door, bottle in hand.
He soon returned with both his parents in tow. They looked rather… displeased. His mother’s grey eyes flashed dangerously, while his mellow father looked ready to kill.
“What is this we hear about you drinking absinthe?!” Laleldær demanded, her voice raising an octave. “You are a Priestess of Cra! Don’t you understand? Priestesses don’t drink alcohol! And absinthe is illegal! Bright lady… Between you can your brother,” she shot Cael a dirty look, “I am going to have a heart attack!”
“Young lady, if you were not a grown woman, I would ground you!” Camillus roared. Both Jahazia and Cael flinched. They couldn’t remember the last time he’d raised his voice. “Drinking absinthe?! I ought to disown you! But I’m an easy-going man, so I’ll give you one last chance. Understand?” Jahazia nodded mutely. “Cael, as punishment for your… actions, you will find a psychologist for her, and see to it that she gets over her addiction. Understand? Good. Come, Lalel.” Laleldær and Camillus then marched out of the house. Cael and Jahazia looked at each other dumbly.
“I suppose I ought to see about that psychologist, eh?” Cael said finally.
“I guess…” But Jahazia didn’t guess. She might be alcoholic like her father said, but at the moment, she didn’t care; absinthe let her be with Daedalus, and no one was going to take him away from her again.
“Ah! Jahazia!” Alessandro bowed low; he was always so courteous. “Out of absinthe already? My, my, you drink absinthe like a fish drinks water.”
“No, I’m not out yet. I’m just looking for a place to live.” He looked at her curiously. “My parents found out, and my brother has strict orders to find someone to cure me of my ‘alcoholism’.” Alessandro smiled slightly.
“I take it your parents are devout Cra-followers?”
“Oh! I forgot you don’t know… You could say that. You see, my parents are High Priest Camillus and High Priestess Laleldær.”
“WHAT?!” This was the first time Jahazia had ever seen Alessandro surprised. “But… Aren’t you a Priestess? And… How…?”
“I am a Priestess. Don’t worry; I didn’t tell my parents whom I bought the absinthe from; truth be told, they didn’t ask. But they will, which is another reason I am moving out.”
“I see…” Alessandro seemed to have recovered slightly. “Well, whilst you search for a house, you are welcome to stay in mine; I have an extra room available. Normally I’d rent it out, but for a friend, I’ll just lend it out for free.”
“Really? Are you sure?” Jahazia could hardly believe her good fortune.
“Yes, I am positive. Would you like me to show you the room?”
~*~
Life was getting better and better. Due to the price of Alessandro’s wares, he lived in a rather high-end neighbourhood, in a large house. The room was fairly large, with a beautiful desk, and comfortable chair. Jahazia loved it.
It wasn’t hard to pack her things and sneak out. Cael had gone off to meet “someone”- Jahazia thought it was probably a girlfriend, judging by the way Cael seemed so suddenly girlfriendless after the issue with Jani and his child- and Jahazia had been left alone. So she packed, left Cael a note saying that she’d moved out and that there was no point in looking for her, and gone to Alessandro’s house.
Life was perfect.
~*~
“Jahazia! I’m home!” Jahazia didn’t reply; she was writing Daedalus’s story. “Did you here me?” Alessandro came into the room. “Bright Lady! You working on that story again?” Jahazia still didn’t answer. “Ok, ok, don’t talk to me.” Alessandro turned to go. “By the way, you hungry? I was just about to go get something for dinner… Ok, fine. I’ll see you when I get back.” Jahazia still didn’t reply. She didn’t care about dinner. She didn’t care about his being home. She just cared about Daedalus’s story. It was so interesting, so important…
Someday Alessandro would understand; nothing else mattered.
~*~
Jahazia stared at the blank page. She was using expensive paper for a rough draft, but the daughter of High Priestess Laleldær Silverfire and High Priest Camillus Preston was allowed any luxuries she wanted, even if she was a failure and no longer a Priestess of Cra. If only the words would flow from the tip of her feather quill and onto the expensive paper. But Jahazia had been staring at the blank page for nearly an hour now, and words were not forthcoming.
Sighing, Jahazia dug into a desk drawer and pulled out a bottle of a noxious-green liquid: absinthe.
Absinthe. Jahazia’s only companion. The highly-alcoholic beverage was the only thing that kept her alive.
She didn’t normally drink the bitter stuff straight, but… Uncorking the bottle of illegal alcohol, Jahazia began drinking herself into a stupor.
As she began to pass out, she thought to herself,
How did all this happen?
~*~
When Alessandro returned, it was late. Very late. He’d been out drinking again; Jahazia could tell. She didn’t really care, though; what he did with his time was his business, not hers.
“Jahazia…” His words were slurred; he was definitely drunk. “Stop writing. I have a bottle of absinthe here. You wanna get drunk with me?” Jahazia sighed.
“Not really, Alessandro; I have a lot of writing to do. The chapter is almost finished-”
“Who cares about your stupid book?” Jahazia’s eyes widened.
“Who cares? Who cares?! Alessandro, this is Daedalus’s book; this is his masterpiece! It is the only thing that is important to me!”
“Yeah… Whatever. Look, I got some absinthe, and drinking it does all kinds of good stuff to you…” Jahazia bit her lip. She should finish her chapter… “You can ask Daedalus how to finish the chapter,” Alessandro added. Jahazia nodded. He had a point.
“Alright. Let’s drink some absinthe.”
~*~
The world was a bit blurry… Pretty colours… There was Daedalus, walking through the kitchen door. Or was it him? It was hard to tell…
“Daedalus? Is that you?”
“Yes. No.” He gave a strange little laugh. “Maybe.”
“Daedalus…” Jahazia hugged him close. “I wrote more of your story… It’s very nice. You should read it.”
“Who cares about that story?” Something tugged on Jahazia’s memory, but she pushed it aside.
“You do, remember? It’s your masterpiece. Tell me, how should I finish the chapter?”
“Who cares about the chapter?” He kissed her playfully. Smiling, Jahazia kissed him back. If he didn’t want to talk about his story, she wouldn’t. What he wanted was all that mattered to her right now.
~*~
Jahazia remained drunk for a long time. A very long time. Alessandro saw to it. He once muttered something about writing giving a woman ideas. Jahazia was too drunk to care what he thought. As long as she was drunk, Daedalus was with her. That was all that mattered.
Sometimes Alessandro let her come out of her stupor. She didn’t really like being sober, but she supposed it was healthier.
But then one day, after several weeks of being mostly sober, Alessandro got her drunk. Very drunk. Passed-out-on-the-floor drunk. At first she thought the oblivion was a gift.
Soon she realized it was a curse.
The first thing Jahazia noticed when she woke was that it was dark. Not dark like her room was dark at night, but dark as in an utter absence of light. The next thing she noticed was that it was stuffy, and that something scratchy covered her face, solving the mystery of why it was so dark. The third thing she noticed was that her hands and feet were bound tight, and that there was a wad of cloth in her mouth.
She was trapped.
At first, her mind panicked. She thrashed around, hyperventilating. Then the ground beneath her jolted, and a second later something hit her. She stopped tossing, but quivered instead.
A second later, the ground jolted again, and Jahazia realized she was in a wagon or cart of some kind.
She could here someone talking. Someone male. Not Alessandro, though. Not anyone she recognized… No, wait, she recognized their voice. But where from? She couldn’t quite place her finger on it.
She would no doubt know soon enough. Giving up entirely, Jahazia tried to return to the welcome oblivion of sleep.
~*~
“Gah!” Jahazia woke with a start. “Girrup!” Jahazia didn’t know quite what to do. With a snarl, something grabbed her arm- her hands were no longer bound- and hoisted her to her feet. Jahazia reached up to pull the sack off her head, but something swatted her hand. Sighing, Jahazia let her hand drop.
“Excuse me, Sir-”
“Shiirup, Missa!” the voice said. Jahazia shivered at the voice; it was not very friendly. “Nah mo takkin!” Someone- presumably the owner of the voice- hit her over the head.
“Now see here! My master will be very displeased with you if you harm her-”
“Ah, shiirup! Ya masta woks fo mey, ya ken?” With a start, Jahazia realized the man was speaking a heavily-accented form of Common.
“Very well, Sir.” It was the voice from the cart, the one Jahazia recognized. Where had she heard it before? Her answer came a moment later when the man pulled the bag off her head.
“You!” It was one of Alessandro’s drinking partners, and old friend of his. He’d transported some of Alessandro’s wares across the Snake’s Run Mountains. Jahazia couldn’t quite remember what it was he transported. Had she ever been told?
“Yes, me. Now, shut up and listen good. You’ve been sold to this man here. His name’s Alden Greenwood. He’s the main slave-trader ‘round these parts. You’re a slave now. Best of luck to ya.” Tipping his hat mockingly, the man walked off towards his cart. Jahazia stared after him helplessly.
“Hmm…” Alden Greenwood walked around her, frowning. “Tal, fairla pretey, bit tuh wempey fo laba… Yer th’ damastec tuhp.”
“Master Greenwood, I’m afraid I didn’t understand a word you said-”
“Shiirup, Missa! Ya no ak, ya ken?” Jahazia shrugged helplessly. “Oi, Adria! Git uhver her!” A world-weary woman plodded over.
“Yeah?”
“Ya splane t’ thes her gul buht ‘shiirup’, ya ken?”
“Yeah, I ken.” The woman turned to Jahazia. “When he says ‘shiirup’, you darn well ‘shiirup’, got it?”
“But I don’t know what ‘shiirup’ means!” Jahazia protested. The woman sighed.
“New ones! ‘Shiirup’ means ‘shut up’. You ‘ken’?” Jahazia nodded. “Good.” Turning to Alden Greenwood, she asked, “Now what?” Alden Greenwood presumably gave her something to do- although what it was, Jahazia had no idea- and surveyed Jahazia.
“Na git uhver ther,” he said, pointing. Jahazia hesitantly walked to where he pointed. “Yeah. Na tok ta Mista Kwikriva. Hil git ya seddled. Ya ken?”
“Um... No.” Alden Greenwood sighed.
“Tak… too… Misterr… Kwikriverr…” he said slowly. Excruciatingly slowly.
“Talk… to… Mister… Quickriver… Oh! Ok. I, uh… ken! I ken!” Alden Greenwood threw his arms up in the air in disgust. Pleased with her small victory, Jahazia went in search of this ‘Quickriver’ fellow.
~*~
Mister Quickriver turned out to be from what he referred to as ‘the far end of nowhere’, or the Dark Forest Area, so he spoke something that Jahazia understood. It was he who explained properly what her new-found status was.
She was a slave. Mister- people here were ‘Mister’, not ‘Master’- Greenwood was sold slaves. Apparently Over the Mountains- Mister Quickriver referred to the area as the Country of Avzale- permitted slaves.
Mister Quickriver had seen a lot of slaves in his life, so he was able to give Jahazia what seemed to be fairly good news. As she had lived a sheltered, luxurious life, she wasn’t likely to do any heavy work. Therefore, she would most likely be a ‘domestic’ slave, or one that worked in the house. That didn’t sound too bad… she hoped.
~*~
“And next up we have a lovely young girl from southern Avzale! Come now, does anyone want to bid?” After two months, Jahazia could finally understand what they were saying, something that pleased her a lot. Unfortunately, it was the only thing that pleased her.
Life was rotten. Downright rotten. She’d been sold into slavery by her landlord, could no longer write Daedalus’s book, and had no access to absinthe.
“Thank you, Sir. And next up is this girl here.” Mister Greenwood grabbed Jahazia by the arm and dragged her up onto the platform. “All the way from the far end of nowhere, a beautiful girl, docile and obedient, the perfect domestic servant. And we’ll start the bidding at one hundred giri. Do I have a bid?” The crowd stirred and murmured; one hundred giri was a lot. “Come now, just look at her. Don’t you think she’s worth it? If not, I can think of some people in New Visea who would happily pay-”
“One hundred giri!”
“Thank you, Sir! Do I hear more?”
“One-fifty!”
“Two hundred!”
“Two-fifty!”
“Three-hundred!”
“Four-hundred!” There was more murmuring.
“Thank you, Sir. Do I hear anything higher? Anything? Four-hundred giri going once… Going twice… Sold, to the fellow with the yellow hat!”
~*~
“Tammy!” Jahazia’s new master, Mister Fairenfall, called as they entered the house. “Tammy!” A friendly-looking woman in a checker-patterned dress and white apron entered the front room.
“Caden!” The woman, Maura, kissed Mister Fairenfall, and Jahazia got the impression she was his wife. “And what do we have here?” Missus Fairenfall surveyed Jahazia.
“You said you wanted someone to help you ‘round the house. I brought home a slave.”
“Really? Oh, thank you! I was starting to think you’d make me hire someone! Now go one, get cleaned up; I’ll see to the slave.” Mister Fairenfall nodded his head amiably- he was an easy-going sort- and wandered off. “And don’t track dirt through the house!” Missus Fairenfall then turned to Jahazia. “So you’re the knew one, eh? Well, what’s your name?”
“Jahazia, Mistress- I mean Missus Fairenfall.”
“From over them mountains, eh?” Jahazia nodded. “You’ve travelled a fair ways. Well, don’t you worry, you’ll soon fit right in. So your name’s Jazia?”
“Jahazia. Actually, it’s Chandra Jahazia Ignatius Preston, Missus Fairenfall.”
“Shilara of the Home, that’s a long one. Well, we won’t be bothering with all that. Just… Actually, I don’t really like the sound of ‘Jahazia’. Truth be told, most rename their slaves, but I’m a nice sort. What was that first bit?”
“Chandra, Missus Fairenfall.”
“Then we’ll call you Chandra. Now, you’ll be helping me ‘round the house. Can you cook? Clean? Take care of children?”
“Yes, Missus Fairenfall.”
“Excellent. Now come; I want you to meet the children.” Missus Fairenfall led Jahazia through a series of rooms and up a flight of stairs until at last they came to a nursery. “Now, that girl over there is Alys,” Missus Fairenfall pointed to a girl about ten, “that boy there is Trenton,” she pointed to a boy of about eight, “and that girl is Chrysanta,” she pointed to a girl of about five. “They’re my children. What’s wrong?” Jahazia’s eyes had filled with tears.
“Nothing… Just… thinking.”
“About what? If you’re going to cry every time you see the children…”
“It’s nothing. Really. I was just thinking about… Stasia.”
“Who?”
“Stasia. My… daughter.”
“I see.” Missus Fairenfall pursed her lips. “Well, that part of your life is behind you now, so you’d best move on. Now come; let’s get you properly outfitted.”
~*~
Jahazia had nothing. Not her husband’s book, nor Alessandro’s absinthe, nor even her name. Chandra. How she hated that name. It wasn’t her! That was why she chose to go by Jahazia, her middle name. But now, once again, as when she was a child, she was Chandra. But unlike when she was a child, she was not one social step above all. She was, in fact, several large social steps below.
She had to help out around the house. That sounded easy, but it wasn’t. Jahazia had never been a very good cook, so she didn’t get to make meals. She had never had to clean her own rooms, so she might know the theory or cleaning, but she wasn’t very good at it. That left taking care of children, which was not something Jahazia enjoyed at all.
She must be eight, Jahazia thought dreamily one sunny afternoon, a year after her capture. Maybe nine. Has she had her birthday yet? I wonder what she looks like. Why didn’t I spend more time with her, back in New Pizcra? She was there. I know she was. I wonder where she is now. Has she become a novice yet? Or maybe she’s still living with Mom and Dad, enjoying her life. Does she remember me?
“Chandra!” It was Trenton. He was a year older than Stasia. “Come play with me! Alys and Chryssa won’t!”
“Alright.” Jahazia got up and smiled at him. “What do you want to play?”
“Uh…” Trenton looked over to where his sisters were playing. “Tag.” Jahazia decided not to point out that two-person tag was a tad boring. “You’re it!” Trenton dashed off, laughing wildly.
Sighing, Jahazia followed.
~*~
Another year went by. Trenton stopped playing with his nanny and started hanging out with his friends from nearby houses. Jahazia now spent more of her time watching Chrysanta, or Chryssa as she chose to be called. The seven-year-old was very adventurous, and Jahazia regularly chased her all over the farm, something she didn’t mind too much; the farm was very interesting.
The Fairenfalls owned a large farmhouse. It covered several square lauskes; it was huge. And it was all flat and treeless, like the Maelthra Plains. Yet there were no savage barbarians slaughtering innocents on it, only peaceful farmers.
Jahazia loved it; it was beautiful, and she could have spent hours gazing at the rippling golden wheat fields. Everything was so beautiful, so peaceful…
She loved the Dark Forest Area more, though, and longed to return.
Slaves could not escape, though. If they did run away, they were hunted down and punished. Jahazia had seen slaves who had met such a fate, and valued her own skin enough to stay where she was.
Another year went by.
Jahazia was starting to become more and more depressed. The rippling wheat no longer looked as pretty after two years. Going to worship false gods was becoming annoying; she was a Cra-follower, and she really didn’t believe any of this nonsense about the “Almighty Zangor, King of the Gods” and “Lady Thalar of the Slaves”. It was a nice thought, but honestly… Jahazia made a mental note to send missionaries over the mountains if she ever returned to the Dark Forest Area.
If she ever returned.
Another year went by.
~*~
“Chandra, could you go and get Alys?” Missus Fairenfall was sitting on the porch with her little clique of friends, the wives of all the neighbouring farmers. They were drinking lemonade, working on their embroidery, and chatting.
“Yes, Missus Fairenfall.” Jahazia hurried off to where Alys, now thirteen, was sitting with her friends (the daughters of Missus Fairenfall’s clique). “Miss Alys, your mother wants you.”
“Oh drat. Wonder what she wants now. Probably wants to show me off so the ladies will think I’m good enough for their sons,” Alys laughed. In Avzale, people usually had arranged marriage. “Alright, I’ll go see her.” Alys ran over to her mother, while Jahazia followed at a statelier pace. “Yes, Mother?”
“Alys, darling, there you are. Come, sit with us for a spell, ok?” Alys nodded and sat down next to her mother. “Chandra, go get Alys a glass of lemonade and her embroidery,” Missus Fairenfall ordered. Jahazia nodded and hurried off.
Alys no longer needed a care-taker. Trenton didn’t either. Even little Chryssa was getting older, and no longer needed Jahazia. So Jahazia was now more of a personal maid, but that might not last long; Missus Fairenfall had already mentioned selling Jahazia and making a profit.
Jahazia soon returned to the party with Alys’s lemonade and embroidery. Alys took them with a small nod of thanks and returned her attention to the party. Having nothing to do, Jahazia stood in a nearby shadow to wait for her next order.
The women were discussing the weather, something they seemed to do quite a bit. They almost reminded Jahazia of some of her own mother’s friends, the way they always blamed the gods. Substitute a few names and you could have the exact same conversations.
“Well, I think this dry spell won’t get much worse.” That was Missus Atwater, an optimistic woman who lived just next door.
“Oh, it’ll get worse. We haven’t had this much sun since the drought of ’92,” argued the thin Missus Greenfinch.
“Come now, I agree with Sally; we’re all good women, and Vimea and Lutta would never punish good folk like us,” put in Missus Fairenfall. Many of the ladies nodded.
“Tammy, I really think Lesley has a point; it’s awfully dry.”
“Well then, maybe Vimea and Lutta are punishing the men,” suggested Missus Leefar. “They’re always doing crazy things. Mayhap it’s because of all those new slaves coming in from over the mountains.” The women all nodded.
“Aye. I can’t say I mind those new slaves too much, though. They do come in handy,” said Missus Whistletree. Again, the ladies nodded.
“I don’t know how I’d get on without my Chandra,” Missus Fairenfall agreed.
“Oh, ladies, you’ll never guess what I heard,” said Missus Lowbody, leaning forward.
“Oh, do tell, Lana,” exclaimed Missus Dearfield.
“Well, I was talking to my Darla, who is from that area, and she was telling me that slaves are illegal over there!” All the ladies gasped. “They actually pay people to do their chores for them! Can you imagine? I was just shocked.”
“Chandra!” Missus Fairenfall called. “Is this true?” Jahazia nodded.
“Yes, Missus Fairenfall.”
“Whyever is that?” demanded Missus Atwater.
“The Teachings of Cra teach us that all people are equal, and thus should not be enslaved.”
“Who’s Cra?” Jahazia gaped at Missus Greenfinch.
“Who’s Cra? Cra is the Creator, the Bright Lady!”
“So it’s true folk over there are heathens, then?” asked Missus Leefar.
“Some are,” Jahazia admitted. “There are the barbarian tribespeople, who believe in a false god, as well as quite a few people from the Lands Beyond Cividina, who have migrated to the area. But those who follow Cra aren’t heathens!” The ladies all smoothed their skirts angrily.
“And what do you know about this ‘Cra’?” demanded Missus Greenfinch. “Have you ever been to a temple in your life?”
“Yes, Missus Greenfinch,” Jahazia responded respectfully. “I am in fact a Priestess of Cra. Moreover, my mother is High Priestess and my father is High Priest. I have lived in the temple all my life.”
“Really, now?” Missus Greenfinch turned to Missus Fairenfall. “I think you ought to set about teaching her the truth, Tammy; the girl’s obviously delusional.” Missus Fairenfall nodded.
“Indeed. I never realized she was like this.”
“No wonder Vimea and Lutta are giving us a drought!” added Missus Whistletree. “We’re letting heathens live among us, and we aren’t doing a darn thing to stop them!”
This sparked another conversation about the weather.
~*~
The nice weather stayed, reaffirming Missus Whistletree’s theory. Missus Fairenfall tried to convert Jahazia to her heathen ways, but got nowhere. Eventually she gave up, much to Jahazia’s relief; it was hard to stay true to Cra when she was miles from home, alone among strangers.
Another year passed.
The drought of the previous year hurt the crops. There was a shortage of food. Jahazia wondered how the people of the Dark Forest Area were doing; they traded lumber over the mountains, and got wheat and other foodstuffs in return. Had there been a drought in her home?
She wanted to go home. It had been five years since she was kidnapped. Her parents and brother probably thought she was dead. How were they doing? Where her parents still alive, or had they died of old age; they were getting older. Had Cael gotten himself a steady girlfriend, or maybe even gotten married? What had happened to Jani’s child? Was Stasia alright? She was twelve now. When Jahazia had last seen her, she was only five. What did Stasia look like? Did she have the same golden curls her father had had, or had her hair darkened to the Jahazia’s auburn? Was she as tall as Jahazia had been at her age? As skinny and gawky? Did she have a boyfriend? What did she like to do?
These questions plagued every moment of Jahazia’s life. She couldn’t stop thinking them when awake. When asleep, she dreamed them.
Some slaves might eventually accept their new status, but Jahazia couldn’t; she needed to see her family. She needed to get her life back. She needed to finish Daedalus’s book.
So she hatched her plot.
It was simple plan, really, depending mostly on the Fairenfall’s trust. Jahazia had never tried to escape before, and she’d been with them for five years; they wouldn’t be expecting her to escape. Hopefully, they wouldn’t realize what happened until too late.
The day of her escape arrived. Jahazia had carefully sewn pockets to the inside of her dress. Inside these she put the basic things she needed, including money. She sewed two shawls together, and put the new shawl on. Then she checked with Missus Fairenfall. Alys was at a friend’s house, as was Trenton. Missus Fairenfall was going shopping with Chryssa. Jahazia suggested that she could go along to carry their purchases. Missus Fairenfall agreed.
At the market, Missus Fairenfall sent Jahazia into the food-stands with some money, asking her to purchase some food. Jahazia went into the food-stands, sat in a corner and quickly unpicked the stitching holding the shawls together, bought herself some food, and put it into one of the shawls, creating a bundle.
Then she strolled out the front gate of the city, looking for all the world like a slave going about her business, doing her master’s bidding.
As soon as she was far enough away to not be obvious, she started running.
~*~
Jahazia ran a lot that first day. In fact, she ran a lot that first week. Once she reached the next city, she bought a dress that was obviously not a slave’s dress. She left her old slave’s dress in the river; she didn’t dare sell it, where it would raise suspicion. That done, she bought more food and continued on her way.
After the first week or so of travelling, she was lucky enough to come across a group of Cividinan merchants travelling to New Pizcra. They didn’t mind her tagging along, especially once she told them that she was an escaped slave who was also a Priestess of Cra. They let her ride in their wagon in return for leading services to Cra. Travelling in a wagon proved to be much quicker.
Within a few weeks of her escape, Jahazia arrived in New Pizcra.
First, Jahazia went to Alessandro’s house. He had Daedalus’s book as well as her belongings. As far as she knew, Alessandro had no clue what had happened to her; he never seemed like the type to be involved with the slave trade. So she went to his house, took a deep breath, and knocked on the door.
The look on his face when he opened it was priceless.
“Jahazia?! Oh! Uh… What happened to you?”
“I was sold into slavery by one of your friends. I escaped. I am going to live in the temple, but I was wondering if you still had my belongings?”
“Oh…” He seemed to think about something for a moment. “Someone- your brother, I presume; he looked a lot like you- eventually found my house, a couple months after you… vanished. He yelled at me, but finally left, taking your belongings with him. You’ll have to ask him.”
“Alright… I should probably go see him. Thank you, Alessandro.” He nodded politely, still looking confused, and shut the door.
Next was Cael’s house. That meeting was very… interesting.
Her knock on the door was answered by a small female child, about four years old. She looked at Jahazia for a moment, then yelled,
“Mommy! There’s a strange lady at the door!”
“What?” A tall, shapely, blonde woman came into view, a small, male child of about the same age on her hip. “Hello,” she said, seeing Jahazia. “Can I help you?”
“Uh, yes… I’m looking for Caelestis Preston.”
“Ok. Please, come in.” Jahazia obeyed. The woman walked over to the stairs and yelled, “Cael! Someone’s here to see you!”
“Coming!”
“He’ll be here in a moment. Can I offer you anything?” the woman asked.
“No, thank you.” Jahazia watched the small girl run around madly. The woman smiled.
“I’m Adelina, by the way. The girl is Angelita, and the boy is Apolinar. And you are?”
“Jahazia?” Jahazia looked up the stairs to see Cael standing there, looking astonished. “Is that you?” Jahazia nodded. “Jahazia! Where have you been?” He rushed down the stairs to hug her. “I’ve been so worried! Are you alright? You look skinnier than when I last saw you…” Seeing Adelina’s confused look, he turned to her and said, “This is Jahazia, my twin sister. I told you about her, remember?” Turning to Jahazia, he added, “And this is Adelina, my wife.”
“Oh!” both woman said, clearly surprised.
“Now Jahazia, where have you been? Are you alright?” Jahazia smiled.
“I’ll tell you if you let me speak. And as to whether or not I’m alright, I might not be if you continue squeezing the air out of me.” Cael stopped hugging her.
“Sorry. Come.” He grabbed her hand and dragged her into the sitting room, where he forced her to sit on the couch. “Now, what happened?”
“Indeed.” Adelina sat down on a nearby chair next to her husband. “If what Cael tells me is true, you’ve been gone for over five years.”
“Uh…” Jahazia gave Cael and his wife a brief overview of what had happened to her. They listened intently, looking astonished. When she was done, they sat in silence for several minutes.
“So… You were a slave?” Cael said finally. Jahazia nodded. “Wow… Have you seen Mom and Dad yet?” Jahazia shook her head. “I suppose you’d better go talk to them… I’ll take you over there.”
“I can walk down the street by myself, Cael.”
“Jahazia, you were just enslaved! Are you nuts?”
“Fine, fine, you can escort me. But first, do you have any of my stuff? Alessandro said you did.” Cael gave a start.
“You talked to him?”
“Yes. Why?”
“I dunno… I just don’t trust him.”
“Stop whining. So do you have my stuff? I’m going to move back into the temple.”
“Yeah. It’s upstairs. D’you want to go get it?” Jahazia nodded. “Ok. Come one.”
~*~
Jahazia hesitantly knocked on her parent’s door. It was late, so they probably would be in their house, rather than their offices. Her father opened the door a minute later.
“Jahazia?”
“Hello, Father.”
“Jahazia!” He hugged tightly, the first such hug Jahazia had ever received from him. “Lalel!” he called.
“What is it- Jahazia? Oh!” Jahazia’s mother joined the hug.
“Mother! Father! I can’t breathe!”
“Who cares?” her mother said. “Oh, Jahazia, are you alright? Where have you been?”
“I’ll tell you if you let me breathe.”
~*~
“So… Slaves are illegal among those heathens?” Jahazia nodded. Her father frowned. “I see… And you say they don’t follow Cra?” Again, Jahazia nodded.
“I thought perhaps we ought to send missionaries to Avzale.” Bother her parents nodded.
“Indeed.” Her father continued frowning.
“Jahazia dear, might I inquire as to where you’ll be staying? Can I convince you to stay with us?” her mother asked. Jahazia nodded.
“I think I’d like to live among Cra-followers for a while. But… I was wondering, where… Where is Stasia?”
Her parents looked at each other for a moment. Then Lalel nodded ever so slightly.
“She’s…”
~*~
Jahazia looked at the large wooden house. This was headquarters for the Defenders of the Forest. Who on earth were the Defenders of the Forest? Jahazia had never heard the name mentioned before. She knew that ‘Aunt’ Edonil and ‘Aunt’ Hwesta (two of her mother’s friends) were mercenaries, and they lived in the forest with their mercenary families, but she’d never realized that they were a society! They wanted to be kept a secret, though, and apparently of the New Pizcreans, only Laleldær, Camillus, and now Jahazia knew.
It did make a lot of sense, though. Jahazia had always wondered why Jani lived in the forest; she was a healer, and although mercenaries like her parents would logically get hurt from time to time, there weren’t many of them. But apparently the Defenders of the Forest were quite large, numbering in the hundreds. How had they remained undetected for so long?
It didn’t really matter, though. Shrugging off her wayward thoughts, Jahazia went inside.
The front room was small, containing only a front desk and a few waiting-room type chairs. Jahazia hesitantly walked up to the front desk.
“Excuse me,” she said to the man sitting there.
“Yeah?”
“My name is Jahazia Preston. I am looking for someone.”
“What’s their name?” He pulled out a sheaf of papers.
“Anastasia Argyris.”
“Anastasia Argyris?” He looked through his list of names. “Argyris… Argyris… Huh. Not here.”
“Look under Preston,” Jahazia suggested.
“Oh! Argyris is her last name? You know Stasia?” he asked, putting away the papers. Jahazia nodded. “She lives just down the road. From the door, turn right, and walk down the road for about two minutes. She lives in the small house of the right with the purple shutters. You can’t miss it.”
Jahazia thanked the man, and went to follow his instructions.
~*~
The house in question was small, but well-kept. The purple shutters made it very easy to spot; not many houses in this hidden town had purple shutters.
Jahazia walked up to the front door and knocked. A moment later, it was opened by a young woman about fifteen years old. She looked at Jahazia curiously for a moment, then asked,
“Can I help you?”
“Yes. I’m looking for Anastasia Preston Argyris.”
“Who?”
“Anastasia Preston Argyris.” Jahazia repeated.
“Do you mean Stasia Preston?” the girl asked. Jahazia nodded.
“Yes, I mean Stasia Preston.”
“Ok… Hang on a second.” The girl hurried off, yelling, “Stasia! There’s somebody here to see you!”
“Who is it?” A young girl came into view. Jahazia’s throat tightened. The girl was tall and gawky, like Jahazia had been, with thick auburn hair, but curly, like Daedalus’s hair had been.
“Stasia?”
“Uh… Hello. Yes, I’m Stasia. And you are?”
“I’m… your mother.”
“Pardon?”
“I’m your mother.” Stasia stared at her in disbelief.
“My mother disappeared five years ago. Besides, you don’t look like her?”
“What do you mean I don’t look like me? How do you know what I look like? I haven’t seen you for seven years!”
“True, I haven’t seen my mother for seven years, but I do remember her. I remember she used to smile a lot. Her hair was redder than yours, and shinier. She had more freckles, and a light tan.” Jahazia sighed.
“Stasia, I am your mother! You can’t base someone’s appearance on how much they smile! Besides, I’m getting older; I’d be worried if I looked exactly the same.”
“Stasia, who’s your friend?” Both Stasia and Jahazia turned to look at the smiling women who had posed the question. She was about Jahazia’s age, but there the similarities ended. She was well-muscled, with short-cropped frizzy black hair streaked with grey. Jahazia had been pretty once, and age had no diminished that much, but this woman’s beauty was hard to see under her weathered skin and myriad of scars. She wore a simple leather tunic, close-cut leather breaches, and knee-high leather boots, all worn, which greatly contrasted Jahazia’s simple but elegant rose-coloured dress.
“I have no idea, Demetria,” Stasia responded respectfully. “She claims to be my mother.”
“That’s… interesting. I take it you don’t believe her.” Stasia nodded. The woman looked at Jahazia for a moment, then sighed. “Stasia, why don’t you go help Aoife. She’s sharpening swords in the workroom.”
“Yes, Master.” Stasia bowed slightly, then hurried off.
“So you claim to be Stasia’s mother? Come in, sit down.” The woman led Jahazia into the kitchen, and the two women sat down at the table. “Now, I must admit you bear a striking resemblance to Stasia. I’m thinking you might be right. But I’m not sure. Could you perhaps explain where you’ve been for five years?”
“I was kidnapped and sold into slavery over the mountains,” Jahazia replied.
“You don’t say. And what is your name? Your full name.”
“Chandra Jahazia Ignatius Preston.”
“And your brother’s? I hope you don’t mind; I just want to test you, to make sure.”
“I don’t mind in the least. My twin brother is Caelestis Jahzeel Ignatius Preston.”
“Hmm… Not many people would know that. And what was your late husband’s name?”
“Daedalus Argyris.”
“You seem to know everything you should. I thought you might.” The woman got up. “Tea?”
“Yes, please.” The woman smiled.
“My name is Demetria Gatti, by the way.”
“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Demetria Gatti. Might I ask how you know Stasia?”
“She’s my apprentice, along with Aoife. I’m a mercenary, obviously.”
“And how long have you known her?”
“I dunno. About three years. She’s only been my apprentice for two of those, though.” She handed Jahazia a cup of tea. “Now, I think we’d better concoct a way to convince Stasia that you really are her mother. You see, she really wants to believe you’re dead. That way, she had no ties to New Pizcra.”
“Why doesn’t she want to be tied to New Pizcra?” Jahazia asked, surprised.
“Because she had bad memories of the place. She can’t really remember you or your late husband. She vaguely remembers being the loved daughter living in a life of relative luxury. More clearly she remembers being parentless, her father dead and her mother alcoholic. She was the next thing to orphaned, and I don’t think she enjoyed it. Then you disappeared, and she was orphaned. Finally she moved here, and got over it, and now she had a relatively happy life. You showing up means she might have to return to a place she doesn’t like.”
“Oh… What if I tell her she can stay here?”
“No good; she still would rather believe you’re dead.”
“I see… Is Jani here?”
“Jani?” Demetria Gatti looked surprised. “Yeah, she’s around. Why?”
“Because I know her very, very well. We were friends. She is very likely to recognize me. Will Stasia believe Jani?”
“Yeah, I think she might.”
~*~
“Stasia!” Stasia looked up, and smiled when she saw Jani.
“Aunt Jani! Hello!” Spying Jahazia, she asked sullenly, “Why’s she here?”
“Stasia, you really should be nicer to your mother?” Jani said sternly.
“She’s not my mother!”
“Actually, she is. We’re good friends. I know her very well. Besides, she looks a lot like you.”
“My mother looked different-”
“And when you’re in your forties you’ll look different, too,” Jani cut in. “Now, go apologize to your mother.”
“Sorry, Mom,” Stasia said stiffly. Jahazia sighed. “Now what?”
“Stasia, I am going to be returning to New Pizcra,” Jahazia told her daughter. “You are welcome to remain here; it looks like you already have lots of friends and a surrogate family. But you’re also welcome to come with me if you wish; the choice is yours.”
“I’m staying here.”
“Alright. But if you’re ever near New Pizcra, remember to come visit me, alright?” Jahazia was a little disappointed, but she supposed it really was her fault.
“Ok. Can I go now?”
“Alright, Stasia. But give me a hug first. Please?” Stasia stiffly gave her mother a hug, which Jahazia returned warmly. “Now go have fun.”
“Ok. Bye… Mom.” Stasia dashed off to where her red-headed friend Aoife was sitting.
“So you’re going back to New Pizcra, then?” Jani asked. Jahazia nodded.
“I’m clearly not wanted here.”
“I noticed. Say hello to Cael for me, will you?”
“Of course.” Jahazia grinned. “Should I tell him you’re thinking of him?”
“Of course!” Jani laughed. “Wouldn’t want him to be to relaxed, now would we?”
“By the way, whatever happened to your child?”
“Ana is around, somewhere. She looks more like Cael then me, much to Cael’s displeasure. The Temple won’t let her enter New Pizcra, and ironically enough, Ana seems to be the most religious Defender for lauskes.”
“Of course. Well, I suppose I ought to go collect my things and be off.”
“Indeed. Goodbye. Be safe.” Jani hugged Jahazia warmly.
“I will. Goodbye.”
~*~
Jahazia gazed around the small room. She was back in New Pizcra, in the housing units adjoining the temple. This room was her office, small but in a cozy sort of way.
On the desk lay Daedalus’s book.
Jahazia had spent hours re-reading it, and she was ready to continue. This was her sole purpose for living, and it needed to be finished.
Nothing else mattered.