06-07-2018, 03:47 AM
Araya stood wearily when he heard the front door open, and followed the path Jai had taken. The house’s warmth sucked out in seconds, chilling the narrow hallway to an ice-tunnel. He lingered for valuable seconds to seek Hana’s judgement, wondering what in the Light he was supposed to do now. Still at the kitchen table, in plain view of both doors, she caught both men in her stare. A frown darkened her brow, lips thin. How much of that did she hear? He offered an apologetic half-smile, but her gaze only swept to the wide open door, where crystals of snow already collected on the threshold. Right. Twisted round in her chair, speckles of breadcrumb still on her lips, Korene’s large, doleful eyes followed the procession – until Hana’s curt words drew her back round. “Child, finish your food.”
He followed Jai, but only as far as the doorway, where he stood like a sentinel – albeit one that saw fit to lean casually against the wall, one hand in pocket. Words floated in the back of his mind; explanations, mostly – this house, the people in it, a million cascading whys. But in the end he said nothing, just watched as Jai mouthed silent words and nodded to himself. He seemed collected again; cast severe in black and sorrow, but in control, and Araya was not so sure he wanted to prod deep enough to disturb those fragile masks again. The invitation, innuendo-touched or otherwise, elicited raised brows and an affable grin touched by age. He didn’t blame a man seeking solace, and there were worse ways to do it, but these days it was succour with less draw than it used to have. He understood, though Light it made him feel old; fifteen years past it might have been the sort of comfort he chased too.
Ever the optimist, Araya chose to ignore the dark undertones, though he felt them ripple from Jai like contaminating smoke. He watched the man’s retreating back, pulled his hand from his pocket and folded his arms. Was it wise to abandon him to Tar Valon alone? It felt like loosening an arrow into the night; you couldn’t quite be sure of the potential risk. Already Jai had transformed from chastened brother to desperate accuser and back, and Araya doubted this new display of control was infinite. Sorrow blanketed him thick. At the same time, of course, an Asha’man needed no babysitter: even one fresh from public beating was one Araya was willing to trust to the integrity of the pins at his throat. Jai had sullied the Tower’s name, and paid for it. He wouldn’t be making that same mistake again, least not so soon. Which was good, because Araya would make an incompetent minder anyway.
He glanced back at Hana, whose piercing gaze seemed more interested to see the door closed and what was left of the heat preserved than the moral dilemma Araya faced. Though, if she had heard anything Jai had said, he didn’t believe that as truth for a minute. An apologetic grin did nothing to alleviate her impatience; her brows rose starkly. Make a decision.
In the end it was good-hearted human nature that tugged Araya from the threshold and sunk his boots into velvet snow. Brotherhood. The Tinker-ish notion that company was better than being alone. It took a moment to catch up, and when he did he fell into stride. "You have an idea of where you want to go?"
He followed Jai, but only as far as the doorway, where he stood like a sentinel – albeit one that saw fit to lean casually against the wall, one hand in pocket. Words floated in the back of his mind; explanations, mostly – this house, the people in it, a million cascading whys. But in the end he said nothing, just watched as Jai mouthed silent words and nodded to himself. He seemed collected again; cast severe in black and sorrow, but in control, and Araya was not so sure he wanted to prod deep enough to disturb those fragile masks again. The invitation, innuendo-touched or otherwise, elicited raised brows and an affable grin touched by age. He didn’t blame a man seeking solace, and there were worse ways to do it, but these days it was succour with less draw than it used to have. He understood, though Light it made him feel old; fifteen years past it might have been the sort of comfort he chased too.
Ever the optimist, Araya chose to ignore the dark undertones, though he felt them ripple from Jai like contaminating smoke. He watched the man’s retreating back, pulled his hand from his pocket and folded his arms. Was it wise to abandon him to Tar Valon alone? It felt like loosening an arrow into the night; you couldn’t quite be sure of the potential risk. Already Jai had transformed from chastened brother to desperate accuser and back, and Araya doubted this new display of control was infinite. Sorrow blanketed him thick. At the same time, of course, an Asha’man needed no babysitter: even one fresh from public beating was one Araya was willing to trust to the integrity of the pins at his throat. Jai had sullied the Tower’s name, and paid for it. He wouldn’t be making that same mistake again, least not so soon. Which was good, because Araya would make an incompetent minder anyway.
He glanced back at Hana, whose piercing gaze seemed more interested to see the door closed and what was left of the heat preserved than the moral dilemma Araya faced. Though, if she had heard anything Jai had said, he didn’t believe that as truth for a minute. An apologetic grin did nothing to alleviate her impatience; her brows rose starkly. Make a decision.
In the end it was good-hearted human nature that tugged Araya from the threshold and sunk his boots into velvet snow. Brotherhood. The Tinker-ish notion that company was better than being alone. It took a moment to catch up, and when he did he fell into stride. "You have an idea of where you want to go?"
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