Again, the amazinng (for me) update speed is thanks to reviewer Procne. Thanks for the encouragement. And the pointing of that tiny little not so tiny plot point (to be adressed next chapter).
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Hamma shot straight up in bed, suddenly awakened with a feeling of deep horror and despair in her gut. She mentally searched around for the usual clouded vision that was her brother's future, which she did whenever she couldn't sleep, but could find nothing except for the brief flash of a crystal clear vision of Jupiter lighthouse, then black emptiness.
She wept, and did not know why.
When she returned to her senses, she realized that the only time someone's future became blank was after their death. She grieved anew, her anguish only tempered by the hope from the moment's flicker of a vision of Jupiter lighthouse, her only chance that her brother might still live.
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The nameless warrior had come to Lama Temple only a few days ago. He rarely spoke, but did his fair share of work, and more, without ever being asked. Whenever anyone inquired about his name he'd simply look at them and cock his head as if trying to recall something then just shrug and continue on his work. He always slept out under a tree just outside the temple complex.
So far, he had avoided Hamma with zeal. Whenever she was nearby, he conveniently disappeared into some arduous labor, only to reappear hours later.
This time it was too late. He was relaxing under a tree after a particularly exhausting endeavor. She was just passing by.
"Hello and good morn, fair warrior. I do not believe I have made your acquaintance. Are you the one who has been doing so many good deeds for the villagers of this area?"
The warrior looked up from under his unkempt, drooping auburn hair. His eyes held only a moment's dull shock before they filled with blank resignation. He didn't want to move on, but he would have to now. Something here drew him.
"I suppose…" He drawled.
"Then why don't you come into the temple with me, and I'll get you some cool tea." Her response was polite, but generated more by curiosity than simple generosity.
He stood ever so slowly and followed her in, looking like nothing so much as an animated puppet.
The tea placed and poured Hamma moved on to the next topic of her interest.
"Do tell me your name, so I may honor you with the use of it."
A moment of silence.
"Mine is Hamma."
Still silence.
"Can you not remember?"
A brief shoulder shrug.
"I could… help you."
Some reaction there. Revulsion, maybe. Hope, definitely. Fear, perhaps.
"I am a Jupiter adept, trained in the ways of wind and the mind."
"Mind read?" The warrior's brow furrowed. She mistook his question as an affirmative answer. He saw the glow of her psynergy a moment to late.
"No! Stop it! Get out!" He backed into a wall, a wave of fear sending him to his knees.
It was too late.
She had seen what she should not have, what he wanted to burden no one else with. What he wanted to forget.
She saw the moment of her brother's death. She saw Ivan die.
Her motions froze and the glass dropped from her fingers to shatter on the cloudy stone floor. She realized that the man before her was no nameless warrior, but Garet, Ivan's friend and traveling companion.
Her brother's murderer.
Everything shattered within her in that moment. Her hope, her love, her whole life, gone. Shards so tiny that they would never make a whole again, not the way it used to be. Not the way she used to be.
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Time to go.
Even in his horror at the re-revelation of the memory of the act his mind had worked to hard to suppress, he knew he had to leave.
Even as something drew him here before, something repelled him now. Some twisted purpose had been served, something fixed, another broken. Something drew him to the south. Time to mourn was past and still ahead, but the now was his immediate concern.
He walked out of the temple, the holy place, as quick as his shocked body could manage.
As soon as he was out the door, behind him arose a substantial twister encompassing the whole temple.
The wails and moans of a grief-stricken sister rose and blended into the shrieks of the wind until they were in perfect sickening harmony.
Out in the woods, Garet retched and again regurgitated the full contents of his stomach. He lay out in anguish for the whole night, grieving for Ivan, and for Hamma, who had only newly discovered her heartache, with no family or close friends to comfort her and help her past the long stretch.
Even as he took up his travel, her keening could be heard for days beyond the limits of sight.
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So, last week's fun review game was kind of unfair I realized, because I have not yetonce mentioned any of my other three favorite characters in Lavender Sorrow. Whoops.
So today's fun review game is to guess which state in the US the author lives in.
Much love to all.(Even if you don't review)
-Kit