Brokkrid nodded to Alys as she passed, assuming that the person that she was with was the person that she had been asked to make a knife for to begin with. She wondered what it must be like, to have someone to go to the festival with, to share a life with. Some deep part of her ached for that kind of commitment, for that community, to belong to someone and have them belong to her. To be a beloved, rather than blow through a town, little more than a tumble-weed crossing the highway that most people traveled.
She looked back to the lantern, and the shadow it cast on the tree she had hung it from, "Mom, if you can hear me, there's a lot you didn't teach me. I want you to know that it's fine, but-" She hesitated, "Damnit, why'd you have to die when I was so young?"
It was a bitter sting that she still felt. She didn't expect an answer from anyone, least of all her mother. Still, there was that Sah that she had met, and she thanked the gods that she had met Alys, and Elizabeth too. And she had met the warden of Halo, almost as if he were sent by the gods to her little shop. With so many things that happened after so much inaction, she felt almost as if she were being pushed toward something.
If only she knew what.
She looked back to the lantern, and the shadow it cast on the tree she had hung it from, "Mom, if you can hear me, there's a lot you didn't teach me. I want you to know that it's fine, but-" She hesitated, "Damnit, why'd you have to die when I was so young?"
It was a bitter sting that she still felt. She didn't expect an answer from anyone, least of all her mother. Still, there was that Sah that she had met, and she thanked the gods that she had met Alys, and Elizabeth too. And she had met the warden of Halo, almost as if he were sent by the gods to her little shop. With so many things that happened after so much inaction, she felt almost as if she were being pushed toward something.
If only she knew what.
