Chapter Text
Their arrival to the Mdang house is noisy, as Cliopher expected.
Vinyë is first to meet him at the door, hugging him tight. She’s dressed up and must have just come from rehearsal, or maybe a proper performance. “Oh, Kip! We weren’t sure you were coming today or tomorrow. It’s so good to see you. How are you? Who is this? You mentioned bringing someone, but we expected Conju again.”
“Didn’t I explain? This is Cliopher Ng – his mother and grandmother were Nga,” Cliopher explains, nudging him forward.
“Oh? Wait, Cliopher Ng?” Vinyë assesses him with interest while two aunts and an uncle drift over to exchange hugs. Lio flashes a sheepish smile. “Are you in the Service, too?”
“Um, no, Saya Mdang. The Imperial Guard.”
“Oh, my last name is Vawen.” Vinyë steps aside to let more people greet Kip; there’s now something of a crowd, to Lio’s alarm. “But you’re an Islander? How do you know Kip?”
“I knew his grandmother after the Fall,” Cliopher explains. His voice gets softer, as it always does thinking of Saya Ng’s death. “We met before I returned home, that first time after… I lived with her a number of months. There was no passage to be found, with the typhoons. ”
“I was named after him,” Lio says. “My mother always wanted to meet him.”
Cliopher’s mother has come forward to hug him by now. She halts with one arm still wrapped around Cliopher, turning to stare.
“My grandmother adored him – we still have her old writings,” Lio says. “And the last ones, before the trip...”
“She did not manage the journey across the ocean with me,” Cliopher regrets. He remembers the sight of her body tipping overboard, disappearing forever into the frothing sea. “I had no idea she had a daughter…” he stops a minute, swallowing past a grief he’s rarely ever discussed. “It wouldn’t have occurred to me to look, anyway. I told the lorekeepers here about her death, and the shamans. But by the time I went back a lot of generations had passed in Zangoraville.”
“My mother lived in a slower time-pocket awhile,” Lio offers, perhaps to give Cliopher a chance to compose himself. “I mean, relative to Zangoraville… it gets confusing.” Vinyë has a hand over her mouth, and everyone is quiet. Perhaps unsure how to respond to this young stranger and his tragic story. “She would have been so thrilled to meet him… but they died a few months before I came to Solaara. Um - I’m glad I got to meet Sayo Mdang, anyway.”
“I keep saying you don’t need to call me that,” Cliopher mutters. Lio grins awkwardly and shrugs. “Anyway, I recognized his name when he joined the guard, so...”
Vinyë surprises them both by suddenly surging forward to hug Lio. “Oh, you poor thing,” she chokes. And then everyone starts talking really loudly, and Eidora comes forth to hug him too.
Cliopher is surprised by the strength of their interest, but pleased. At least Lio won’t have a hard time making friends while he’s here.
Lio and Cliopher are both in the habit of getting up early. The guard goes outside early to do some basic exercises on the beach; Cliopher curls up on the couch and writes a few quick dispatches, then makes notes on issues that have been percolating in the back of his mind.
Lio returns damp and smiling; he must have decided to rinse off the sweat with a quick swim. Cliopher sets aside his pens. “Oh, good. Are you ready? We can stop by a bakery on the way.”
By this point the house is starting to stir, and Auntie Oula peers over from the kitchen. “Heading out already, Kip? You kicked up a hornet’s nest last night. Everyone wants to talk with our newest honorary Mdang.” She winks at Lio, who flushes.
“The Nga have first claim, I’m afraid,” says Cliopher with amusement. “I’m going to bring him to meet some of his grandmother’s kin.”
“Ah.” Her face sobers. “Fair enough.” She comes over and kisses him on the head before he goes, oddly wistful. Cliopher hopes she’s doing alright. Auntie Oula moved into the main house after her husband and children died, to get help raising Dora. Cliopher wishes he were around to help more, too.
They head out together, and Lio says, “Your family are all so nice! Your mother asked me to call her grandma?”
Cliopher bursts out laughing. “Did she? She somehow got Conju to call her mama.”
“Lord Conju? I can’t imagine that.”
“She can be persistent.”
Cliopher has already written ahead to a few of the Nga; probably why he thought he’d told his family about Lio, he reflects ruefully.
Saya Ng was an old woman; by this point Lio doesn’t have much family left in the Vangavaye-ve, at least not as they count it, by the fourth degree. But she had one younger sister still alive, and that sister has children interested in meeting him. Not every family is as wide-reaching as the Mdangs; it must be exciting to meet someone new.
Unfortunately they all live farther out in the ring, on Loenna, so only one of Lio’s cousins is here today. They meet her outside a bakery not far from the Spire where the Eastern Wonder is still docked. Even as Cliopher looks up he can see ropes unfurling, the ship preparing to depart to its next destination. While he pauses to watch, Lio greets his cousin and tentatively takes her arms in the traditional greeting. Cliopher looks back down when the woman introduces herself as Clea Ng.
She looks shockingly like Saya Ng – right from the patterns of wrinkles developing on her face, to the shade of her umber-dark eyes and graying hair. When she turns to Cliopher, he feels tears welling in his own eyes, and she abruptly looks alarmed.
“It’s okay, he does that,” Lio tells her. He’s clearly spending too much time with Rhodin. “You look a lot like my grandmother.”
Her smile returns. “And you certainly have the Nga look,” she approves. It’s true, now that Cliopher considers it. Lio is tall and broad and muscular – which is more common for the Poyë, who farm, or sometimes the Gēnang. But there’s something about the angles of his face, the jut of his jaw, that Cliopher has seen before among Nga-offshoots.
They exchange a few pleasantries; Cliopher tries to excuse himself so they can speak privately. But Lio and Clea Ng both look so alarmed, and protest so quickly, that he ends up settling in with a flaky roll and trying not to talk too much.
It’s interesting, though, to hear about Lio’s childhood. Cliopher has tried not to press into difficult subjects, but Lio doesn’t seem uncomfortable talking about it.
He was born before the Fall – which perplexes Clea, given how time runs in the Vangavaye-ve - and his childhood was defined by the uncertainty around that event. Mail got through to his grandmother, but his parents didn’t dare leave their village outside Dinezi, for fear that too much time would pass on one side or the other. It was a common thing in those years.
“Everyone was really excited when we learned the Emperor was on Zunidh, though!” Lio tells her. Clea Ng nods with a bemused air; among these islands the Emperor probably seems no closer now than he was on old-Ysthar. “It drove me crazy that we never went anywhere at all. I always wanted to join the guard, meet interesting people, travel...”
“That’s the Nga in you,” Clea laughs. “Travel, travel, travel. See? We don’t have much to teach you after all.”
She tells Lio about her own family, and invites him to visit them on Loenna, either now or in the future – Cliopher can tell that pleases him. “Though it’s a lot different than that fancy city you’re in now,” she warns. “We’re more traditional in the outer ring.” But that just interests Lio further. “It would be a good chance to show you some of the family traditions, too. And our dance.”
“I’ve done my best to teach him Aōtēruka,” Cliopher confesses. He’s almost abashed under her surprised stare. “I knew the steps, anyway, and I wrote to the rukà – I suppose she’ll be able to correct any mistakes.”
He’s worried she might be annoyed by the presumption; Clea Ng surprises Cliopher by reaching out to squeeze his hand. “Lio is lucky to have you,” she declares, beaming. “I think our lorekeeper is down by your uncle’s barbershop. Why don’t we go now? You should meet her, too,” she tells Lio.
The rukà is delighted with Lio.
“You were taught very well! I see our rising-tanà hasn’t forgotten everything,” she says. No one’s called Cliopher that in a long time.
Lio is visibly flustered – and just as clearly trying to seem nonchalant – when the old lorekeeper drags him out behind Lazo’s shop to the clear yard beyond. Cliopher spent a lot of time practicing his own dances here as a kid.
Lio, it’s obvious, was not expecting a practical test today.
“...shouldn’t we, uh, ask for permission to use the space?” he tries.
The rukà scoffs, “nah,” and waves him to continue. Cliopher and Clea exchange grins.
Cliopher thinks that Lio will be a good dancer one day, if he keeps practicing. As a guard he spends hours every day training his body. The only real problem, right now, is his abashed hesitance in front of an audience. Cliopher wonders whether any of the guards are similarly embarrassed when they spar or drill together; he suspects Ludvic has ways to get them over that. Maybe he should ask.
The rukà points out a few spots where Lio’s footwork could be better, but overall declares him proficient. “I’ll bring him to Mardo’s later,” Cliopher tells her. He doesn’t think Lio knows what that means, but she nods and smiles. “And I’m sure we can find a beach-party where he can practice properly while we’re here.” He grins at Lio, who suddenly looks alarmed.
“And have you been teaching him the stars, too? – bah!” She laughs when Cliopher confirms it. She tells Lio, “What do you need us for, eh? Your tanà is going to steal all our roles.”
Cliopher protests, but Lio laughs too. “Sayo Mdang knows a bit of everything,” he says. “I’ve stopped being surprised.”
They return to the front, and one of many tables outside Lazo’s barbershop. There’s no reason for a barber to have so many chairs set out, except that Lazo is the actual tanà, and people tend to congregate around him. Cliopher used to study here to eavesdrop on the lorekeepers’ gossip.
Lazo comes out eventually to chat, and to meet Lio. “Another Cliopher? At least you have a different last name,” he tells Lio, patting his shoulder. “It was good to hear from you, Kip. You should write more.”
“He’s always writing people,” Lio defends. “There’s a lot of you.”
“Well, that’s true,” Lazo concedes. “Maybe I should write more, then.” He considers Lio. “How would you feel about a penpal, kid?”
Cliopher beams as they chat and agree to write. It would do Lio some good to have the Lazo to talk with, he thinks. Lazo will be able to teach Lio more than he would.
Since, unlike Cliopher, he’s the real tanà.
Lio goes off on his own more and more over the next week – usually dragged away by Leona or Gaudy. He gushes about how great and wonderful all the Mdangs are, to the extent it starts to worry Cliopher.
He decides to broach this one evening when they get alone again. Cliopher has set up a meeting with Mardo Walea, and on the way there he asks how Lio likes the guard. He’s younger than most of them – even the other fresh recruits. Has that been a problem?
Lio assures him the guards are wonderful. All the new recruits are paired up with another recruit, and also with a senior mentor. Lio’s mentor was originally one of the gate-guards, but he was switched over to Pikabe not long after Cliopher met him, and admires the man greatly.
That makes Cliopher feel better; Pikabe is an excellent guard – he’s one of the Emperor’s inner guards, of course – but he’s also a man of good humor and character. Cliopher always likes having him at the door; he doesn’t feel quite so foolish when he makes etiquette mistakes or forgets himself talking to the Emperor. Pikabe thinks it’s funny, he’s pretty sure, but in the same friendly way as Rhodin. Cliopher’s never gotten over the sneaking worry that some of the guards...
Anyway. “I just wanted to check,” he tells Lio. “Especially since you came here without family, from a small village.”
“Why would that matter?” Lio asks, so puzzled that it reassures Cliopher.
“Maybe I’m just stuck remembering Astandalas,” Cliopher confesses. “It was a very different place… I know the Guard is different now, of course.”
“You were still there under our Emperor, right? Was it really that bad, if you weren’t a noble?”
“Oh, very… and being a commoner with no connections, no family, from a random village… I don’t think it was as bad in the guard as the Service,” Cliopher reflects, trying to remember. “But there were certainly active attempts to get me fired, just for being foreign. Sabotaged work… I was locked into rooms a few times, drugged once… and the guard in those days wouldn’t care if you reported anything, if you weren’t noble…”
He trails off at the look on Lio’s face, reminding himself theguard is still young. “Well. Nevermind that. Most of those guards retired ages ago.”
“Most?” Lio asks, sharp.
Cliopher pauses. “You don’t need to report that to Ludvic, for the record,” he tries. Lio eyes him skeptically. “I’m glad things are better now. Commander Omo has done an excellent job reforming the guard.”
“Hmm,” says Lio. He’s definitely going to report that; Cliopher stifles a sigh.
Fortunately they get to Mardo’s before Lio can press the subject. Lio is interested as soon as he sees the displays of efela. He’s seen Cliopher’s efela-ko while they dance, of course, and Cliopher tried to explain the different meanings of shells. But it’s hard to describe such a thing without examples.
So he gets distracted pointing out the different shells and pearls on display, and doesn’t notice Mardo approach until someone smacks him on the shoulder; Lio twitches and turns to track the old man with narrowed eyes. They’ve already trained the paranoia into him, Cliopher thinks wryly.
“Kip! Good to see you. And I’ve heard all about this one. Cliopher Ng, isn’t it?”
“Yes, Sir.”
“The rukà just confirmed he knows Aōtēruka,” Kip says.
“Ah! I know what you need, then.” Mardo winks and disappears into the back of the shop.
Lio starts to realize why they’re here. “Oh, Sir, you didn’t have to…”
“You earned an efela,” Cliopher tells him. “Of course, you don’t have to wear it if you prefer - “
“No, I do, just.” It’s funny how easily the big teen blushes. “You’re all really treating me like I’m an Islander.”
Cliopher blinks at him, nonplussed. “Well, you are,” he says. He’s more than a little surprised when Lio hugs him again, and is still smiling when Mardo return with a small string of pearls.
Everyone congratulates Lio heartily on the new efela over the next few days, which he wears proudly around his neck. One morning Lazo asks, “Have you taught him the Mdang dances, Kip?”
Cliopher is startled at the idea. “No – no, his mother’s dance was Aōtēruka.”
“No reason not to learn both. Never understood why you didn’t bother with the Varga ones,” Lazo notes. “You enjoyed Aōteketētana so much.”
Uncle Cliopher almost chokes. “I didn’t know you could do the greater dance, Kip.”
“He showed me that one!” Lio volunteers, cheerful. “Without the fire. It was impressive, still.”
Everyone questions him, and to Cliopher’s surprise seem almost jealous. But of course they are, he thinks, chagrined. No Mdang has performed the greater dance at the Singing of the Waters in years.
One day Cliopher will do it. He will. He just…
It’s not time yet.
Lazo clears his throat again, glancing apologetically at Cliopher. “Now, that’s Kip’s business. Anyway, Lio – I heard you talking to Gaudy earlier about your work in the guard. You just started, right?”
Lio is always happy to talk about his duties, and the Palace – and everything about living in Solara.
Cliopher’s surprised by how raptly his family listens. They never ask him about Solaara.
“They were all really surprised when they learned I was named after Kip,” Lio is saying now, cheerful. It’s odd to hear that name from someone he knows from Solaara – though it makes sense, with Uncle Cliopher at the table. “I mean, everyone knows him. And he’s really well-liked in the guard.”
“Oh?” asks Eidora, leaning forward.
“Sure! Um, although Ser Rhodin is always saying he’s stubborn and should take guards with him more often.” Lio grins across the table at him. “Including on vacation. That might be why Commander Omo was so happy to grant my leave, actually.”
Cliopher huffs at the thought of being defended by someone younger than Gaudy – trained or not. “I don’t need a guard here.”
“Why would Kip ever need a guard?” Vinyë asks, baffled.
Lio double-takes, giving her a funny look. “Because his work’s very important, of course! I was surprised he doesn’t have one all the time in Solaara. But Ser Rhodin says he refused.”
“And I’m still alive,” says Cliopher, dry. “Besides, I spend half my time with my lord, and he’s usually behind half a dozen sets of guards and doors.”
“Usually,” Lio scoffs.
“You’re spending too much time with Rhodin.”
“He has lots of good advice! And he’s funny.”
“So a lot of people know Kip in the palace?” Uncle Cliopher interjects.
“Oh, sure. All around Solaara! Last time we went down we kept getting stopped by people complaining about the food safety bill he passed.”
Vinyë just looks confused. “What?”
“The recent one? Was it implemented here, yet? It caused a big fuss in the city.”
“Oh… I think I know what you mean. Enya talked about it for ages. But what does that have to do with Kip?”
“Well… he wrote the law, right?” Lio looks at him for confirmation.
“Most of it,” Cliopher agrees. “We had to consult some specialists about the exact temperature guidelines, and so on.”
“I didn’t know you did stuff like that,” says Vinyë in an odd tone. Cliopher doesn’t know how to reply.
The conversation moves on to gossip about Enya’s ambitious new recipes, and then a few restaurants that failed to meet the requirements of the recent safety regulations.
Eventually, though, they shift back to Kip.
“Why didn’t you tell us about your trip after the Fall before, Uncle Kip?” Leona asks. Cliopher pauses and picks at his plate, unsure how to answer. He sees some other family members glance over, too.
Further down the table Lio is now listening to Dora regale him with invented stories about her favorite toys. Cliopher watches them; it’s easier than looking at his family while he answers. “It was hard to talk about. And by the time I got back… well, the trip alone took years. Time was strange after the Fall.”
“You said you couldn’t find a ship? Mama said you came back with merchants.”
That makes Cliopher blink, looking around at his sister. “No, I didn’t.”
“What?” Vinyë frowns. “Yes, you did. How else would you have gotten here?”
“I built a vaha – Lio’s grandmother helped build it. And that was after years traveling to Zangoraville, in the first place. There weren’t any ships that would go through the typhoons.”
“You couldn’t have crossed the ocean on a vaha!”
Cliopher shrugs. “I did. I’m not saying it was smart.”
“Grandma’s writings talked all about the building,” Lio volunteers. “They both worked on it. She said the locals thought they were crazy.”
“They did. Begged us to stay there together.” Cliopher falls silent, thinking again that perhaps Saya Ng should have stayed.
She wanted to die at sea; Cliopher is starting to accept that. But it’s still hard to know she died, and left her family behind – and for what? She never made it home.
And Cliopher did, and found there was no reason to have gone in the first place.
Vinyë hugs him, perhaps sensing it’s a difficult subject. “Oh, Kip. I’m sorry we didn’t ask. You were so quiet when you came back… it just didn’t seem like you wanted to talk.”
Did it? That was after Cliopher spent months, maybe years, lost at sea. Yes, he probably seemed oddly quiet.
“Everyone says the Fall was horrible at the Palace,” Lio offers. “And that was after you got kidnapped in the mountains, right? And the pirates?”
“Uh, the what?” Gaudy asks.
Apparently, the whole tale of being kidnapped and joining a pirate-ship is very exciting for his family. Even though it happened years and years ago. Lio escapes halfway through the interrogation to join Gaudy and Leona with their friends, which Cliopher doesn’t begrudge, exactly, though he can’t help but chafe under his family’s unusual attention.
Cliopher only escapes around noon, with the excuse of finding Lio and taking him to the docks for lunch. Cliopher is quite certain the young guard would be happy to wander around the city alone at this point, but he does want to introduce Lio to at least a few more relatives and favorite spots before setting him loose.
Cliopher is pleased to finally find him on the shores of the lagoon. Lio is lying on the sand, surrounded by half a dozen younger Mdang-cousins. Two of them are intent on ‘sneakily’ burying his legs in the sand while Lio pretends not to notice. He’s nodding very solemnly as a young girl – perhaps four or five - lectures him on proper sandcastle-building procedures. This includes such mysterious tidbits as “and then you gotta put the water in and squish it but not squish it hard, and then the shells in the bottom but you stop it from falling, and you gotta make sure it’s flat or it’ll fall all over you. And you’ll die.”
“Of course,” says Lio, straight-faced. One day Cliopher will get someone to confirm that the Imperial Guard take lessons on remaining stoic. “Thank you for teaching me, Sayina. I’ve never built sandcastles before, you know.”
“I do know,” she says, long-suffering. “But it’s okay. I’m very good at it.”
“Wonderful. Oh, there’s your Uncle Kip!”
Something about hearing that name from Lio makes him smile.
“Kip!” she rushes over. Then, to Kip’s astonishment, she kicks him hard in the leg. “Why’d you hide Lio?” she demands. “Mama wants to meet him! Now!”
Cliopher struggles to remember which cousin would be this child’s mother. Oh, yes, wouldn’t that be Faila? “I’m quite certain your mother wouldn’t want you kicking people, Corla,” he reproves.
She doesn’t correct the name, so he must have guessed right. “Cousin Lio was teaching us how to fight,” she declares. Cliopher manages to repress a snort; some of his younger relations think everyone is a cousin. Though it’s usually not an unfounded assumption in Tahivoa. “He said kids should kick because we have tiny arms.”
“Did he?” Cliopher turns an eye on Lio, who shrugs sheepishly. “Well. It’s still not nice to kick people without reason.”
“Well I did have a reason,” Corla scoffs, and flounces off without any heed for his rebuke.
Cliopher raises an eyebrow at Lio. “Er… sorry,” he says, abashed. “...maybe I shouldn’t talk about fighting with the kids.”
“Maybe,” Cliopher echoes, and grins.
Cliopher introduces Lio to a few more relatives near the docks. He makes the mistake of declaring himself interested in learning to clean fish, and promptly gets dragged into a processing line by some fishermen eager for another pair of hands, however clumsy.
Well, that will teach him circumspection, Cliopher thinks with amusement. He wanders further down the docks to visit Clia and a few other cousins.
Lio doesn’t return to the Mdang-house until late that evening – fortunately clean, though still stinking faintly of the sea. He shows off a hand-crafted knife gifted to him by one of Cliopher’s cousins, and seems happy enough about his temporary abduction. He tells Cliopher one of his Varga cousins offered to show him how to set traps for land-animals while he’s here. Cliopher’s glad he’s making friends so easily.
Now that Lio seems to be finding his own distractions Cliopher plans on a slow morning the next day. He sleeps in late – well, a bit past dawn, anyway – and joins the rest of the household when breakfast has already started.
He doesn’t see Lio when he heads down to eat, but is surprised by another non-Mdang at the table.
“Hello, Bertie,” says Cliopher, pleased. “When did you get here?”
“Just now. Wanted to check out that new kid everyone’s gossiping about.” Bertie gets up to hug Cliopher in his brief, bracing way before he settles back down. “Also, Toucan and Ghilly wanted to talk to you.” Next to him Quintus winces.
“I’ll stop by later.” Cliopher glances around the crowded table, then again. “Where’s Lio?” Sure, he’d usually expect a young man to sleep in, but the Imperial Guard are all in the habit of rising early. Maybe he ate already?
“He’s with Parno,” Bertie tells him. “Beating on each other like fools, no doubt.”
Cliopher learns that Parno marched over as soon as he learned there was a real, actual Imperial guard on the island, and challenged Lio to a spar. He lost, but his pride was mollified by Lio’s enthusiastic compliments and an offer to show him how the Guard trains.
“Hope that boy of yours doesn’t fill his head with nonsense,” Bertie adds, plucking a mango from the table. “I was thinking he might give up on that silly dream. Don’t you worry about him? He’s even younger than Parno!”
“It was his own choice to join the Imperial Guard,” Cliopher shrugs. Granted, Lio joined early because he was orphaned, but still. “And it’s not like it was in Astandalas. I’m friends with Commander Omo, and he’s worked very hard to change their culture for the better. The Guard is full of good people.”
“That won’t stop them from being killed, will it?”
“Junior guardsman like Leo are mostly assigned easy patrols and stations, gate-duty – which has multiple people – and things like that. They spend at least half the time just training and drilling.”
“Sounds boring.”
“They’re ready when it matters,” Cliopher shrugs. “Would it really be so bad if he went away awhile? He’s not interested in any work here, it sounds like. Unless you want him to end up as one of Oriana’s guards.”
Bertie makes a face – as do some others eavesdropping. “I can’t even imagine that.”
“I wouldn’t recommend it. And if he went to the Imperial Guard and changed his mind, he’d have an easy time working somewhere else. Any employer would snatch up someone who left. Maybe security on a merchant ship?”
“He could do that now,” Bertie protests.
But it looks like he’s considering the notion, so Cliopher drops it. He just hopes that Bertie and Parno won’t quarrel if he decides to leave the islands; Cliopher knows how hard that can be.
Cliopher helps wash up – meals at the Mdang family home can be a monumental endeavor – and then decides to stop and see his other old friends before heading down to the beach. Toucan lets him into the house with a brief embrace and a terse smile.
“Bertie said you wanted to see me?”
“Ghilly was the one that wanted to talk to you,” Toucan says, and to Cliopher’s surprise abruptly leaves.
He blinks at the door a moment, taken aback. Then he shrugs and settles on the couch.
It takes another minute for Ghilly to appear. She smiles with a similar stiffness, which makes Cliopher uneasy; but she does hug him. “Hey, Kip. Everyone’s been talking about you and that guard you brought back.”
Is it really that notable that he has friends in Solaara? He could see the Nga being excited, at least. “You heard about him?”
“Yes. And… well, everything that happened to you after the Fall.”
Oh; yes, Cliopher could understand people gossiping about that.
“You never told me about any of it,” says Ghilly, quiet. “When you came back.”
“It wasn’t easy to talk about.”
“But you asked me to marry you. You weren’t going to tell your future-wife about what happened?”
“I thought you would ask,” Cliopher blurts. She flinches, some other emotion twisting through her face. “Not – I’m not blaming you for that. No one asked. About any of it. But so many people died – so much had happened – and I came home and it didn’t even seem like anyone had cared if I was still alive.”
“I was always thinking about you,” says Ghilly, soft. “You were gone so many years. I sometimes lay awake wondering if you’d ever slept with someone in Astandalas.”
“I would have never - “
“That’s what I thought,” she interrupts. “But after the Fall…?”
“We were too busy to think of anything but surviving after the Fall,” he says, remembering that bleak, grim period after the Palace first fell here. “And time… much more time passed in Solaara than it did in the Wide Seas. I spent years wondering if any of you were alive… years more, traveling… I nearly died so, so many times. It was a great relief to meet another Islander, and know I was at least close to having answers. Toward the end it felt like I was dreaming. It had been so long since I’d seen anyone...”
Cliopher thinks then of his blank shock when he returned home. How he felt like a ghost, wholly unable to adjust to the reality that no one in the Vangavaye-ve had changed, even though his whole world felt altered. “You were right to refuse me,” he adds. “Even before the Fall, to leave you waiting like I did… none of it was fair to you, Ghilly. I’m sorry.”
“It sounds like it was much longer for you,” she murmurs, something a little less cold in her voice. “And I can’t say I really know what it was like. But you shouldn’t have asked me to marry you.”
“No,” Cliopher agrees. He’d wanted a wife more than he’d wanted Ghilly. And he still, of course, has neither. “I’m sorry for that, too. But I’m glad you’re happy now.”
“Hey, Kip,” says Lio, beaming. “Leona wants to go fishing tomorrow.”
“He’s never gone fishing,” says Leona, sounding scandalized. “Will you come with us, Kip?”
Cliopher smiles, mood already lifting. “That sounds fun.”
He does not have a wife; but Cliopher has a large family, and an abundance of friends. He supposes he can’t complain. He’s glad Lio came along for this vacation.