02-01-2024, 02:39 PM
“That’s it?” Malaika asked once they were clear of the house.
“It was clear from the start that the boy told the truth,” the Brown answered. “But putting a little fear in people can do them good. We don’t want the same mishap to happen again, though I doubt the young Ebou Dari will be quite so keen on Domani women, no?” She smiled, and there were dimples in her ageless face. “What did you make of it all, sister?”
She had not paused to think on it before now. Eithne watched her reaction with eyes that had returned to their customary twinkle, like she knew a secret everyone else did not. Malaika was used to that look but it made her suddenly uncomfortable now. Truthfully she thought there was more to it than the woman was saying; Aes Sedai did not Travel countries in order to scare young men out of behaving like dolts. But she did not wish to look as though she was questioning her elder; Eithne’s business was her own business, and she would tell Malaika only what she deemed necessary. Malaika trusted her in that.
“It was informative,” she replied, nodding affirmatively once the words were out. Eithne chuckled and took her young sister by the arm.
“Informative, indeed,” she agreed.
It was too late to head out of Ebou Dar that evening for, as neither Eithne or Malaika could Travel, their journey home would be one on hooves (and for that Malaika was infinitely glad Broekk Sedai had including horse riding among her many lessons). Anura arranged them accommodation at a nearby inn and, after a evening meal of soup and crusted rolls, they retired to bed.
Malaika could not sleep.
Though the room and the noises coming from without were unfamiliar and the bed too soft for her liking (“Only the best for Aes Sedai” the frenzied inn-keep had exclaimed), it was the torrent through her mind that stopped her resting. She stared up at the ceiling, dark-hair splayed out upon her pillow… and thought of Chakai. Not the old man, Kasimir’s father, but of her brother, whom she had not seen in a lifetime. I would have recognised him if it were he…And yet the doubt had burrowed deep; a little voice within cried ‘what if’ to the point that, though she was weary with travel, her eyes were wide saucers and her mind whirling.
It couldn’t be….
She tried to remember the last time she had seen him, but only succeeded in unearthing memories muddled with those of her Arches. What really happened, and what didn’t? Oh, how she had doted on her older brother; his charm, his smile and quick laugh. As a child she had rejoiced at the days her brother returned from his duties as morat’torm, determined that she would follow in his footsteps and become a trainer of the rare beasts. How wrong I was in that, she thought wryly, turning on to her side and resting her head on her hands. The serpent ring glistened in her peripheral.
With some great effort (for she rarely poked beyond the surface murk of her past) she pulled up her memory of him. In her mind’s eye she saw him in the black and brown uniform of morat’torm, grinning for all the world like a fool with his jet-black hair wind-tousled and in dire need of a good trim. Bright eyes sparkled some untold secret, and undoubtedly he was hiding some new war-wound sustained by his love for Seanchan’s exotic beasts. She had shared that love, if only because it had been his first.
Malaika smiled - could not help it. And then the doubt increased. Two morat’torm named Chakai? She sat up, swinging her legs over the edge of the bed. Kasimir’s Chakai did not look like her brother; not even slightly… and yet… close on thirty years was a long time. And then she recalled the eyes. A tight knot formed in her chest. Could she live with not knowing? This might be her last chance to ever find out.
It was unusual for Malaika Niele to ever act rashly; she was one prone to bouts of thought so deep that some thought her slow in the mind. And yet at that moment she could think of nothing but getting dressed, braving the dangerous night-time streets of Ebou Dar, and knocking on the door she had been so relieved to leave behind.
“It was clear from the start that the boy told the truth,” the Brown answered. “But putting a little fear in people can do them good. We don’t want the same mishap to happen again, though I doubt the young Ebou Dari will be quite so keen on Domani women, no?” She smiled, and there were dimples in her ageless face. “What did you make of it all, sister?”
She had not paused to think on it before now. Eithne watched her reaction with eyes that had returned to their customary twinkle, like she knew a secret everyone else did not. Malaika was used to that look but it made her suddenly uncomfortable now. Truthfully she thought there was more to it than the woman was saying; Aes Sedai did not Travel countries in order to scare young men out of behaving like dolts. But she did not wish to look as though she was questioning her elder; Eithne’s business was her own business, and she would tell Malaika only what she deemed necessary. Malaika trusted her in that.
“It was informative,” she replied, nodding affirmatively once the words were out. Eithne chuckled and took her young sister by the arm.
“Informative, indeed,” she agreed.
It was too late to head out of Ebou Dar that evening for, as neither Eithne or Malaika could Travel, their journey home would be one on hooves (and for that Malaika was infinitely glad Broekk Sedai had including horse riding among her many lessons). Anura arranged them accommodation at a nearby inn and, after a evening meal of soup and crusted rolls, they retired to bed.
Malaika could not sleep.
Though the room and the noises coming from without were unfamiliar and the bed too soft for her liking (“Only the best for Aes Sedai” the frenzied inn-keep had exclaimed), it was the torrent through her mind that stopped her resting. She stared up at the ceiling, dark-hair splayed out upon her pillow… and thought of Chakai. Not the old man, Kasimir’s father, but of her brother, whom she had not seen in a lifetime. I would have recognised him if it were he…And yet the doubt had burrowed deep; a little voice within cried ‘what if’ to the point that, though she was weary with travel, her eyes were wide saucers and her mind whirling.
It couldn’t be….
She tried to remember the last time she had seen him, but only succeeded in unearthing memories muddled with those of her Arches. What really happened, and what didn’t? Oh, how she had doted on her older brother; his charm, his smile and quick laugh. As a child she had rejoiced at the days her brother returned from his duties as morat’torm, determined that she would follow in his footsteps and become a trainer of the rare beasts. How wrong I was in that, she thought wryly, turning on to her side and resting her head on her hands. The serpent ring glistened in her peripheral.
With some great effort (for she rarely poked beyond the surface murk of her past) she pulled up her memory of him. In her mind’s eye she saw him in the black and brown uniform of morat’torm, grinning for all the world like a fool with his jet-black hair wind-tousled and in dire need of a good trim. Bright eyes sparkled some untold secret, and undoubtedly he was hiding some new war-wound sustained by his love for Seanchan’s exotic beasts. She had shared that love, if only because it had been his first.
Malaika smiled - could not help it. And then the doubt increased. Two morat’torm named Chakai? She sat up, swinging her legs over the edge of the bed. Kasimir’s Chakai did not look like her brother; not even slightly… and yet… close on thirty years was a long time. And then she recalled the eyes. A tight knot formed in her chest. Could she live with not knowing? This might be her last chance to ever find out.
It was unusual for Malaika Niele to ever act rashly; she was one prone to bouts of thought so deep that some thought her slow in the mind. And yet at that moment she could think of nothing but getting dressed, braving the dangerous night-time streets of Ebou Dar, and knocking on the door she had been so relieved to leave behind.
![[Image: cherry-blosson.png]](http://thefirstage.org/wp-content/uploads/2020/08/cherry-blosson.png)