He could not blame her silence, only himself for being the cause of it. The cause of too many misunderstandings and hurt feelings, too much chiding and not enough praise. Too many times he hadn't let her speak or respected her silence, while she had held him in the dark the first time Safrin had rejected his prayers. So much had changed since then, since he hadn't been strong enough on his own, that he didn't know how to find his way back to the man he had been before that night.
None of them could go back.
Especially not those whose memories were buried in the earth beneath them; no bodies, no bones, only remembrance for Isla and ash for Caiside, and Jigano sighed as he lifted the jar and bowed his head in silent apology to the man who had been his friend before he opened it and scattered the ashes onto the soil. He began to work them into the dirt with his hands, feeling the rich black earth crumble as he mixed the Oasis's soil into the plots he'd dug. He felt something shivering in his chest, a warmth that pooled in his hands and sparkled at the edges of his vision as he did so, and he paused for a moment to look up and see Amalia in her newest shape. Beautiful and strong, unearthly as a dream she paced above the ground, and his expression softened as he took in the sheer beauty of her. Isuma happily perched on her shoulders, the gryphon's surprise and delight palpable to both of them as she pattered from withers to rump and back, admiring the qilin from close-up.
I never told you how beautiful you are, did I? he thought hesitantly, unsure if she would accept his words. His admiring thoughts trailed off uncertainly and he looked away to gather his own seeds, spreading them into the furrows made with his fingers and then moving to cover them again.
Again the warmth ran through him, a little like liquid, a little like strings being plucked in his soul. As his hands passed over the newly-planted seeds they began to sprout and unfurl small leaves, stretching upwards towards the sun with slowly spreading blossoms as he watched, stunned, hands still sunk in the dirt in front of him.
None of them could go back.
Especially not those whose memories were buried in the earth beneath them; no bodies, no bones, only remembrance for Isla and ash for Caiside, and Jigano sighed as he lifted the jar and bowed his head in silent apology to the man who had been his friend before he opened it and scattered the ashes onto the soil. He began to work them into the dirt with his hands, feeling the rich black earth crumble as he mixed the Oasis's soil into the plots he'd dug. He felt something shivering in his chest, a warmth that pooled in his hands and sparkled at the edges of his vision as he did so, and he paused for a moment to look up and see Amalia in her newest shape. Beautiful and strong, unearthly as a dream she paced above the ground, and his expression softened as he took in the sheer beauty of her. Isuma happily perched on her shoulders, the gryphon's surprise and delight palpable to both of them as she pattered from withers to rump and back, admiring the qilin from close-up.
I never told you how beautiful you are, did I? he thought hesitantly, unsure if she would accept his words. His admiring thoughts trailed off uncertainly and he looked away to gather his own seeds, spreading them into the furrows made with his fingers and then moving to cover them again.
Again the warmth ran through him, a little like liquid, a little like strings being plucked in his soul. As his hands passed over the newly-planted seeds they began to sprout and unfurl small leaves, stretching upwards towards the sun with slowly spreading blossoms as he watched, stunned, hands still sunk in the dirt in front of him.
