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There was something odd about the day, right from the offset.
Kisara had just gotten dressed in her usual guard uniform when there was a knock at the door of the guard’s quarters. She opened the door and was greeted by a man in full Renan armour who promptly saluted her. “Kisara! Ah–Captain Kisara while here, I guess...”
“Nottio?” She had become quite skilled at recognizing individual armoured soldiers by their voices since first joining Menancia’s guard, but having only spoken with Nottio a handful of times she did not have her usual confidence. Besides, what would Nottio be doing in Viscint rather than in Thistlym with his wife?
“Yes!” he answered promptly. “I was asked to report to you that you’ve been given the day off.”
Kisara did not need to ask who had given him that message to pass along, although there were other questions that had her wondering. “What are you doing in Viscint? Is Cagari not with you?” she asked.
Nottio shook his head. “She is in Viscint too. It was an idea I had, something I read about while learning of Dahnan society back in Lenegis. Apparently immediately after marriage, couples would go on a ‘honeymoon’ together where they would travel to a different city to enjoy new sights and foods and experiences as newlyweds.”
“That sounds lovely,” Kisara said with a smile, “but it makes me wonder all the more why you are not with your wife.”
“That...” Nottio rubbed the back of his head, armour hitting armour. “Well, we had to see Lord Dohalim while we were here, of course, so we joined him for a few drinks last night. That was when he asked me if I could help by leading the training of new guards today.”
Kisara sighed. After successfully saving Dahna, everyone in their party of six had taken time to reflect on what their role would become from there. Kisara had hopes of settling into a life where she could simply help people, perhaps teaching others to fish and bartering any of her extra catches, or cooking meals for those in need. But society itself needed to be reworked before that could be accomplished, and Dohalim had asked her to contribute to reforming the training of soldiers to suit the new world. While she knew it was a wise choice to assign this task to her, as someone averse to prejudice and experienced with battling zeugles, some days she longed for domesticity. Guest lecturers would be invited to take her place at times, allowing her some reprieve from her responsibilities; Alphen and Shionne, for instance, had stepped up to demonstrate how Renan artes and Dahnan combat could compliment one another. But really, to recruit someone who was on his honeymoon to lead training... “I’m so sorry. He really has a one-track mind when an idea inspires him.”
Nottio waved his hands in front of himself, seemingly waving the apology away. “No, no - you two have done so much for me and Cagari, so to be able to do something for the both of you means a lot to me!”
‘The both of us?’ Kisara tilted her head.
Before she could wonder any further, Nottio reached into his armour and fished out an envelope that he presented to Kisara. “I was also asked to deliver this to you. Now, I’ll be on my way, uh, Captain!” He saluted again and took off down the palace hallway.
Kisara looked down at the envelope that had been left in her hand. It was a thick parchment with an ornate pattern silkscreened across its face, and a dollop of wax pressed with the Il Qaras seal on its back. Kisara returned to her quarters before breaking the seal and reading its contents:
My dearest Kisara,
To think that an absence could feel so heavy?
Indeed I feel the weight of your absence by my side.
If you would meet me by Talka Pond tonight,
as the sun’s rays trade with the moon’s glow,
I would feel that burden be freed.
Although she shook her head at the formality of it, Kisara felt her cheeks grow warm. ‘Honestly, just tell me if you miss me...’ She missed him too. As long as she was tied to this responsibility as a soldier and he was acting as a leader, there were no occasions to enjoy each other’s company as they had grown used to. She felt a lightness in her chest as she realized he had made this occasion for them.
“Today will be a long day,” Kisara whispered to herself before slipping the envelope under her pillow. “I guess I don’t need to wear my uniform. Hm...”
“Law, be careful with that!”
Kisara halted as an unexpected voice echoed from below her in Autelina Palace’s garden. She gripped onto the railing and peered over, hardly taking a second to spot Rinwell’s frantic movements as she supervised Law lifting a rather large vase onto a display stand.
“Well then you lift it if you think you can do better!”
Rinwell planted her hands on her hips but said nothing, although a disgruntled ‘hoo!’ did seem to sound from inside her hood.
“Hey you two!”
Rinwell and Law looked upwards and began scanning the upper level. Kisara waved her arm to draw their attention. “I’ll be right down!” she announced when they made eye contact, then set off to the staircase.
“I almost didn’t recognize you without your armour,” Law said, grinning. “I thought I was getting hit on by a babe.”
“What is wrong with you?” Rinwell scolded.
Kisara laughed. Really, it felt nice to be able to meet with her friends while wearing civilian clothes. She lacked much of a wardrobe, so she had dressed in her usual errand-running combination of fitted pants and a tunic cinched by a thick leather belt. Somehow having a conversation without her armour clattering with every hand motion helped her to imagine what her future might be someday.
“I wasn’t expecting to see the two of you here,” Kisara commented.
“I got word from Dohalim that the displays for our relics were ready,” Rinwell explained. She turned her gaze towards the vase that Law had just been grappling with, now perfectly centred atop a carved marble stand. “So I came to help set them up, and write descriptions that explain where they were found and what we’ve extrapolated about them.”
It was true that there had been a lot of bustle in the gardens recently, with gardeners carefully removing some of the shrubs, and artisans coming in and out on a regular basis. Kisara had dismissed it as simply an aesthetic change, but there had been that time that she and Law had overheard Rinwell and Dohalim discussing plans to exhibit the relics they had found in their travels. She was in part impressed that Dohalim had managed such progress on this project with everything else he was responsible for; however, she also suspected he considered this project more valuable than other leadership duties.
Kisara turned her attention to Law, who avoided her stare in favour of watching his own foot nudging the ground. “I, uh, I’m just here for my muscle power.”
“I’m sure you’re here for company too,” Kisara observed.
“Kisara!” Rinwell jumped. “You can’t say things like that!”
“Yeah what even does that mean?!” Law added.
“Oh, nothing... Listen, I’ll leave you two to it. I do hope we can chat more later though.”
Rinwell immediately nodded, and even Hootle popped out from her hood to nod too. “Of course! You should make sure Dohalim joins us too - you’re seeing him later, right?”
‘How does she know that?’ Kisara wondered despite nodding as though it made sense for that to be common knowledge. And although she nodded, in the back of her mind she acknowledged that it had been a long time since she had approached Dohalim for anything. She had fallen back in to the role of a soldier, as though the time spent as friends–and even something deeper–was somehow affected by presence of the Menancian public around them. The twinge of anticipation twisted into anxiety as part of her wondered how they could return to that closeness.
The market streets of Viscint were lively as usual, with peddlers explaining their wares and permanent shopkeepers hurrying to meet their clientele’s demands. A trio of Renan musicians had claimed a place by a street corner and were filling the air with joyful, upbeat tunes that matched the city’s mood. Kisara could never remember the names of particular instruments, but she always felt some fascination in how the tone they produced sounded so different depending on the setting; musicians in the palace were always more sombre, while daytime street musicians exuded such energy, and at night yet other musicians emerged with rowdy excitement around the city’s pubs. Among the residents who had taken a seat nearby either to listen to the music or to escape the streets’ crowds, Kisara noticed Cagari taking in the scenery.
“Cagari, so nice to see you!” Kisara called as she approached the other woman.
Cagari appeared startled when she heard her name, but her posture softened when she recognized Kisara. “Oh, Kisara, I wasn’t expecting to see anyone I knew here!” She smiled brightly as she clasped her hands in front of her. Kisara had heard the expression that there was a radiance about newlyweds, and Cagari certainly embodied that. “Viscint is so magical! It’s smaller than Pelegion and yet so much more alive! Is it true that it only became this way after Dohalim became Lord?”
Kisara nodded. “It was as dreary to grow up in as elsewhere in Dahna...”
“Sorry, I don’t want to stir up those memories,” Cagari said, placing a hand on Kisara’s arm. “I’m just...I’m so glad to be able to witness what it is now. In another time, I would have been isolated to Thistlym for the rest of my life.”
‘What a soft and gentle soul,’ Kisara thought. “You should make the most of it while you’re here, then.” She pointed a thumb towards the central market. “I know a shop with incredible breakfast pastries. Would you join me?”
“Yes!”
It was a short walk to the shop that Kisara had in mind, towards the city’s entrance by the Traslida Highway. Their storefront showcased a variety of professionally made pastries, and the smell of the fresh-baked goods would cause a person’s stomach to rumble before the shop even came in to view. Cagari marvelled at the selection of treats that varied from fruit-filled to chocolate-coated to dusted in sugar. She would definitely need a few minutes to choose, Kisara knew from her own first experience at the shop. It had been an incredible novelty to her back then, for the first time in her life having gald in her possession that she did not have to delegate to the bare essentials, and knowing that she would be paid such wages reliably. Kisara could remember thinking of Dohalim as she savoured that pastry, a flaky croissant filled with fresh strawberry jam, and feeling thankful.
While she waited for Cagari to make her choice, Kisara felt something brush up against her calf. Her instinct was to react offensively, but a quick glance down brought relief that it was only Zareh. The black cat stared up at her with unblinking eyes. “Hello Zareh,” Kisara greeted, crouching down to pat the cat on her head. Zareh purred as she tilted her head for more efficient ear scritches.
“Zareh, why did you run off–”
Kisara looked up and found Lagill standing before her, face red and glistening with sweat. When she saw Kisara, she folded over her knees and began huffing and puffing to regain her breath. “She had me chasing her across town just to say hi to you? Honestly, this cat...”
“It’s been a while, Lagill,” Kisara said, standing tall again. “Will you join us for breakfast?”
Lagill looked over to Cagari, who had finally pried her attention from the pastry display. “Sure, although who is this?”
After a quick introduction, the three women placed their orders and found a table at the humble patio that had been set up alongside the bakery. They conversed more deeply, talking of the courtship of Cagari and Nottio and how they came to know Kisara; Lagill explained her upbringing in Elde Menancia alongside Kisara and Migal, and how she had been working in Viscint while it lacked leadership. Listening to the two women chatting, Kisara picked up on many details she had never heard before. She learned of how Cagari and Nottio met, and heard a bit more honesty from Lagill about her relationship with Migal (although she could interpret by Lagil’s flitting glances her way that she was refraining from sharing some things).
“I have to say it astounds me,” Lagill said after a pause in their conversation. “I never would have imagined a relationship between a Dahnan and Renan outside of Menancia. Actually I don’t even think I’ve seen it around here, unless you count every girl and her grandma being in love with Lord Dohalim.”
Kisara’s fork slipped from her grip and clattered on her plate. The sound drew the attention of her friends, as well as anyone else within earshot. “I-Ignore me...”
Lagill laughed boisterously while Cagari hid her giggle behind a hand. “How are you two doing, then?” Lagill asked.
Before Kisara could decide on an answer, Cagari offered, “They have a date later!”
“I’m just seeing him later; that doesn’t make it a date,” Kisara promptly corrected.
“I don’t know, that letter definitely made it sound like a date...”
Her knowledge of the letter’s contents should have been more surprising than it was, but Kisara could easily visualize Dohalim musing aloud while penning the letter he entrusted to Nottio. She leaned her elbow on the table and began massaging her forehead. “Of course,” she sighed.
“Tell me more,” Lagill urged with a laugh.
“That’s quite enough,” Kisara objected, standing up from her seat. She gathered up her plate and cutlery. “I’ll be on my way. What you two talk about from here is up to you.”
As soon as she stood up, Zareh hopped up onto her chair and curled up for a nap. Lagill let her humour settle in favour of a serious tone: “Migal would approve, you know. He trusted Dohalim.”
“I know.”
While there was some reassurance to be found in such words from the only other person who knew her brother as well as she did, she could not fight the worries about their dormant relationship, alongside Cagari’s casual promise that their meeting tonight was most definitely a ‘date’.
Kisara opted to walk the waterfront route around the city to cool off her thoughts. As the sun passed its high point, most people were drawn to the main streets where food and drink were easy to find. Kisara took this to mean she would be less likely to encounter anyone else who could–
“Kisara!”
–stir up her concerns. ‘Dammit.’
Alphen strode over to her from the railing by the waterway; Shionne followed not too far behind, hurriedly eating the rest of a kebab she had been munching on (and based on the two additional empty skewers in her hand, it had not been the first). Alphen greeted Kisara with a hearty shoulder smack that would be more typical between him and Law, while Shionne went in for a hug.
“I seem to be seeing everyone I know today,” Kisara remarked.
“Oh really? Who else is in town?” Shionne asked as she discarded her kebab skewers in a nearby waste receptacle.
“Rinwell and Law, Lagill, even Cagari and Nottio.”
“No Dohalim?” Alphen asked, earning a sharp stare from Shionne.
“You can’t just ask that, Alphen,” she chided.
Kisara shook her head. “Not yet,” she answered in what she intended to be a casual tone, but the intonation must have varied just enough for Shionne to notice it.
“Yet, huh? So you’ll be seeing him later?”
“Sounds scandalous.”
“Alphen!”
As much as she wished this was not the topic of conversation, Kisara found herself smiling at her friends’ transparency. “I feel like I’ve been pressed about it a lot today,” she admitted.
Shionne held a finger to Alphen’s lips before he had a chance to say anything. “Then we won’t add to that,” she promised, then paused. Her attention moved from Kisara’s face to her body, scanning her top to bottom. “...So is that what you’re wearing?” Alphen laughed as Kisara crossed her arms. “I know what I just said but it’s just so much wasted potential!”
Kisara thought back to a night at the campfire when Shionne had been pressing Alphen about some earlier interaction they had had. She kept pestering and pestering him about his reaction to her clothes when she first acquired them, until at last Alphen blurted out that he had found her ravishing. Kisara had never witnessed someone drop a topic as quickly as Shionne did then, going completely silent and walking away from the campsite. Law laughed so hard that it became contagious, with Dohalim laughing first and then Kisara, and finally Rinwell. As Shionne would tell it, fashion had always been a priority to her, but Kisara had to wonder if its value grew even higher when she realized how it had influenced Alphen’s attraction to her.
“I know a good tailor around here,” Alphen offered.
Shionne sighed. “Not the one Law is obsessed with who made the farming clothes...”
“You have to admit her clothes hold up well.”
Kisara interrupted, “You both know I’m not one to spend gald on clothes.”
“Sure,” Shionne conceded, “but I also know you think about style more than you let on. You knew damn well what you were doing when you modified your guard uniform to show off your back like that.”
It was a statement, to be sure, but Kisara always thought of it as a character statement rather than a fashion statement. It was true, however, that her back got a lot of attention once she made those modifications, and no one would have had a better view of it than Dohalim as she stood as part of his guard. She had never really considered that he would pay any attention to that, but she recalled the ease with which he could find those bare areas on the quiet campfire nights when they tested the boundaries of their relationship, so maybe he had been watching all along...
“I wouldn’t even know how to translate that into a regular wardrobe,” Kisara said.
Shionne beamed. “Just leave it to me!” she announced with such readiness that Kisara was suspicious she had been planning for this all along.
The sky was beginning to turn golden outside of the guards’ quarters.
Kisara fuddled with the hood on the dress Shionne had chosen for her. When not in use, the hood hung draping low on her back, leaving most of it bare. Her chest was more exposed that she was used to, but a clasp by the neckline held things together. The dress was also a shorter length than she would have chosen, so Shionne ‘gave her permission’ to wear shorts underneath. While it wasn’t as ornamented as some Renan outfits she had seen, it did not feel Dahnan either. Shionne could not talk her into buying new shoes, so a pair of laced-up boots would have to do.
‘Guess I should be on my way...’
She paused at the doorway and looked at the fishing equipment she kept stored next to her bed. It felt strange to be going to Talka Pond without it, but she could imagine many voices scolding her if she brought it along. With a sigh, she pushed open the door and began her trek through the palace.
As she made her way towards the palace’s entryway, a voice called out: “Excuse me! Um...you’re Kisara, correct?”
She halted and turned to the one who addressed her. Although they had only met briefly, she recognized the bespectacled Renan as one of Dohalim’s old friends–Avakhir, she recalled. “Yes. Avakhir, is it?”
Avakhir nodded. “I won’t keep you,” he said. “I know you’re on your way to see Do.”
‘Does everyone in all of Viscint know this by now?’ Kisara inwardly lamented.
“He asked me to give you his violin to bring along,” Avakhir explained, holding out the pristine white carrying case that housed Dohalim’s violin.
Kisara accepted the case as it was handed to her. “Oh. Okay - thank you.” Having worked alongside Renan soldiers for so long, Kisara was usually able to communicate with a wide range of personalities with ease, but the stoic comportment of Avakhir challenged her. That and his history with Dohalim, she supposed. Being judged by cranky soldiers was entirely different from being judged by Dohalim’s friends.
By the way that Avakhir dithered, standing and toying with his glasses rather than departing, Kisara could guess that maybe those feelings of unease were shared. “He values you a lot, you know,” he said at last, “so I’m trying to stop looking at everything as Renan and Dahnan.”
“That’s admirable,” Kisara smiled. “You’ll get there - I’m sure of it. Dohalim chooses his friends well.”
Avakhir nodded, but continued to avoid eye contact. “Well then. Safe travels.”
Kisara watched him walk off, somehow more at ease with the small handful of words that Avakhir shared. She then looked down at the instrument case in her hands. ‘Now why am I dragging this along?’
The footpath to Talka Pond never felt so long. Kisara would have considered jogging it if she was not responsible for chaperoning Dohalim’s violin. She sighed and looked skyward while following the familiar road.
The warm hues of sunset had disappeared behind the cliffs, leaving a clear night sky sprinkled with distant stars. Although the view was undeniably beautiful, Kisara could not help but compare it to the phenomenon of the “phantom flower” that Rinwell had learned of in a book and that they all experienced together in Cyslodia. No sky would ever match the dance of lights they witnessed that night, a ribbon of colour twirling and fading in and out of existence before their eyes. Typically Dohalim would be the first person to try to convince the others that camping in Cyslodia was not worth the gald saved by not staying at an inn, but on that night he had been the first to wander off and admire the nature they would only ever witness in such a frigid setting. Kisara had followed him, in part to appreciate the view of the sky from the waterside, and in part to sneak glances at Dohalim; his eyes were full of wonder and somehow brimming with poetry even though he did not speak a word, and Kisara found the sight of him nearly as entrancing as the sky.
‘I want to see him...’
Her footsteps quickened subconsciously as she remembered the peace of that night, the warmth she felt as they huddled under a blanket Kisara had had the foresight to purchase in Cysloden, the sensation of curious hands sneaking a touch of each other, a tentative kiss when they each caught the other glancing their way...
She felt frustrated at both him and herself for letting their relationship fall back into something less personal. As she set her focus on the path before her, she also felt some relief because surely these were the feelings that inspired Dohalim to invite her outside of the city that night.
Talka Pond came into view, its surface glimmering with the reflection of string lights that newly surrounded the area. A campfire burned closer to the trail, and Kisara quickly spotted Dohalim nearby, seated on an overturned tree trunk; his gaze met hers almost immediately. “At last, another traveler to ease this solitude.” He was dressed in common Renan clothing rather than his usual extravagant attire, and yet Kisara still internally laughed at the thought of him as a regular traveler.
“This campsite has had some upgrades since I was last here,” Kisara observed as she walked over to him and set down the violin case. Beyond the lights that brought an element of indoor luxury, there were baskets of fresh fruits and vegetables labelled for community use, a collection of fishing equipment by the pond’s deck, and a small fabric shelter stocked with blankets and pillows.
“I thought it could stand to be more hospitable,” Dohalim explained, gesturing around them, “both for us and for any wayfarers who happen upon this trail in the future.”
Kisara smiled as she scanned the collection of fishing rods and lures. “So I get to test out that new fishing gear then?”
Although she had asked it in jest, Dohalim answered, “Naturally. I asked Avakhir to send you with my violin so I could rediscover my own hobby while you indulged in yours.”
It sounded like the picture of serenity, Kisara thought. But after all of her interactions through the day, with everyone’s swirling questions and implications, she wanted something more than uninterrupted tranquility. She stepped back from the pond and moved behind Dohalim, slipping her arms around him in an uncertain embrace. “Is that the only way we’ll be enjoying each other’s company?” she asked, burying her face in his neck and not daring to peer up to meet his expression.
“Kisara, I would sooner have invited you to my private chambers had I believed you would consent.”
Kisara’s heart leapt in her chest. Despite speaking the words confidently, Dohalim made no movement to create eye contact. In fact Kisara thought she spied a hint of bashfulness in the way he lifted a hand to his forehead. She did envy the way Dohalim’s skin tone concealed any flush of embarrassment, as she felt her own face grow warm.
“Too much?” he asked after enduring her silence for a few seconds longer than was comfortable.
“No...” Kisara murmured, shaking her head. “I know how you feel, Do. And I know it’s been me keeping the distance since we’ve been back.” She released her embrace and moved to stand up tall again, but Dohalim stood and caught her hand in his and guided her to stand in front of him, as effortlessly as leading in a dance. “I don’t want you to have to deal with rumours on top of everything else you’re juggling right now.”
His eyes narrowed slightly, a silent reproach with a lingering glint of mischievousness. “I invite the rumours,” he said before kissing her.
Kisara smiled against his lips as she thought of how true that was: Nottio's knowledge of Dohalim's intention of inviting Kisara away, Rinwell's casual mention of them seeing each other, Cagari's familiarity with the contents of the letter, Shionne's readiness to make Kisara's look match the mood, Avakhir's acknowledgement of Dohalim's perception of her... How strangely convenient it was that so many acquaintances had come together to make the same point. The only person who would have let those details get out was Dohalim himself, Kisara knew, but her mind was otherwise occupied with the sensation of finally knowing the closeness she had been missing.