Her parents weren't sitting at the communal fire when she got there. A friend of her father's named Soris leaned over from where he was sitting to grab her wrist as she passed, and told her that her parents were in fact looking for her. 'Said you'd been gone for too long, and wanted to know where you'd wandered off to.' Biting her lip, she thanked Soris and set off in the direction of their family's aravel.

When she did find them, they smiled in relief before chiding her about where she had been for so long, and for not saying she was leaving. Typical parental things. But she didn't, couldn't, smile back at them.

She twisted the ends of her long silver hair between her fingers, and her brow was furrowed with anxiety when she looked up at them.

'Mama, papa, I need to tell you something.'

Frowning, they followed her back to their aravel when she beckoned them; this wasn't a conversation that she'd be brave enough to have in public, no matter how it turned out. After what felt like an eternity, they were seated in a circle in the main space, and her parents were staring expectantly at her. Feeling as if she would gnaw her lip off soon, Eilahnen shook her head and pushed herself to begin.

She laid out the facts for them quickly, in a rush of breath, afraid that they would interrupt and berate her. Her hands twisted together as she spoke, and initially, she couldn't meet either parent's gaze, staring at her own lap instead.

When she did have the courage to look up, it was at her mother first. Brierdahla's eyes were wide.

'Da'len...I don't understand. You no longer wish to become a Hasa'asha? Why do you feel this way?'

Her expression was pained, and Eilahnen longed to reach out and embrace her. Instead she held herself back, and spoke to her mother in a pleading voice.

'It's hard to explain, mama. I had thought for a long time that my path was clear ahead of me, but something happened to me that changed how I saw myself, and crafting just doesn't give me what I need or what I want, anymore.' Her eyes misted over a bit. 'I'm sorry, mama, papa. It's just—'

Her father cut in, looking both confused and upset. 'Eilahn, how long have you felt this way? What happened to change your mind?'

Their reaction to her response shamed her deeply. When she opened up about the shemlen boy in the village last fall, and finally confessed her slow decline into uncertainty, her mother started to cry. She had been certain she was about to receive the guilt and criticism she'd imagined. Instead, her mother blurted a question.

'Why didn't you just tell us before? Why did you hide your unhappiness from us?'

Eilahnen was floored, could barely stutter a response. 'Mama...I-I thought..'

Brierdahla had wiped the tears from her eyes only to have new ones instantly replace them.

'Your father and I love you. You must think us to be cold-hearted monsters if you feel the need to hide away your sorrow and confusion like this!'

There proceeded to be a short flurry of confusion, with both sides fumbling to communicate their true emotions. Her parents were under the impression that she didn't trust them, and wanted to know what they had done to lose that trust. Eilahnen was trying desperately to impart the fact that this wasn't true.

Finally, Eilahnen looked at them and threw her hands up in despair. 'So, what? It doesn't bother you that I don't want to be a crafter anymore? Why won't either of you react?'

Blessedly, her parents had begun to understand her meaning. 'Of course not, da'len,' Athras had replied.

'Is that why you hid this from us? You were afraid of what we would think?' Her father looked visibly relieved, and shook his head.

Eilahnen was gaping.

Her mother chimed in. 'Ma lath, I honestly don't understand why you would think that. We love you, and have never wanted anything but to support you.'

It was then that Eilahnen couldn't handle all of the surging emotions anymore, the ups and downs of the day, and she'd started to blubber.

Brierdahla reached out and grabbed her, pulling her fluidly into her arms to rest against her chest. 'Let it out, Eilahn,' she soothed.

'I didn't want to disappoint you,' Eilahnen bawled. 'Either of you!'

As Brierdahla rocked her back and forth and Athras made reassuring sounds, there was a knock at the entrance to the aravel. Looking over his wife and child, Athras rose to his feet.

'I'll see what that's about, Briera. You stay with her.'

After her husband had left the room, Brierdahla turned her attention back to Eilahnen. For a minute she did nothing but hold her daughter and rock her, smoothing her hair away from her face, letting Eilahnen cry. Eventually, she spoke in a soft, low voice.

'Now, ma lath, tell me what you mean. Tell me why you did this.'

She tried her best to curb her crying, and had some partial success.

'I knew you and papa were proud and happy that I wanted to be a...a Hasa'asha,' she managed. 'Everyone told me...I was honoring the clan. I thought...you'd be mad..hurt, if I changed my mind.' She took comfort in her mother's silent rocking, and paused to wipe her eyes.

'So I...tried anyway. I love you both, and the clan. I didn't want to let anybody down.' She shivered. 'Especially not you.'

With her secret finally out, Eilahnen felt a tiny bit lighter, even before her mother had a chance to respond.

She heard her mother sigh, but it wasn't an unkind sound. She suddenly felt a finger hooked under her chin, gently tilting her face upward, and when she met her mother's eyes she saw understanding in the pale blue.

'Oh, Eilahnen, ma da' lath.' She smoothed a hand over Eilahnen's brow, and shot her a sad little smile.

'What a strong little woman we've raised, your father and I. Strong, and selfless... too selfless.' For one long moment, her mother gave her a searching gaze that pierced down to her toes. Then Brierdahla shook her head.

'To make this decision, to try and hide it from me, all so as not to disappoint me...' when she spoke next, there was a wavering chuckle in her voice.

'You always were an anxious child, from the moment you opened your eyes. And I know you've always tried to shoulder everything yourself. But with this, you've managed to surprise me.'

Eilahnen couldn't hold in the question building up anymore. 'Mama,' she blurted, 'why aren't you disappointed? I don't understand.' The tips of her ears were burning with chagrin.

Her mother shot a response back at her, just as quickly. 'Why does the idea confuse you so much, da'len?'

Feeling her anxiety rising again, Eilahnen let the answers come spilling out, struggling to keep the words from running together.

'Because we've always crafted together, mama! Since I've been little, we've bonded over the craft. You took me under your wing, and I was happy to learn from you. I idolized you, and you were...my only friend.' Her voice broke, but she continued on.

'I remember clearly the day you asked me to apprentice under you, and I was so happy. And I remember the smile on your face when I said yes. Crafting was important to me, yes, but mostly it was because you are important to me.'

She paused to gulp in a breath; her mother was staring at her silently, her expression unreadable, and Eilahnen was compelled to keep talking.

'I dedicated myself to being a Hasa'asha, because after all this time spent carrying on your traditions, it felt right. And because I wanted to make you proud.' Frustration boiled up inside her, and she began to gesture as she spoke.

'Don't you feel lied to? Misled? Betrayed? It made you happy to have me learning in your footsteps, and now I look to change my mind. What happened back in the farmer's village was an accident, some stupid twist of fate, and if I hadn't fought that shemlen boy, then I—'

'Wouldn't be who you are today.' Her mother smoothly cut her off, reaching out and capturing Eilahnen's flailing hands in her own, and when she met her gaze again, it was plain to see that Brierdahla was moved. Her lip was quavering, ever so slightly, and her eyes were darkened with emotion. But when she continued, her voice was steady and warm.

'Da'len, it warms my heart to hear you say these things. The day you came into my and your father's lives was the day we were truly complete. We have always cherished your love...and I have cherished the time we've spent together since that day, teaching you what I know.' Brierdahla's voice had grown thick. 'You can't know what it means to me, that you care so much about how I feel, or that you consider me a friend.'

Eilahnen made to speak, but her mother held a finger to her lips before continuing on, steady once again.

'But crafting isn't all there is between us, Eilahnen. Not even close. Ame mar lanalin, i ane ma'esha'lin. The bond between us will never break, no matter what you do, and no matter where you go. When I learned I was with child all those years ago, I vowed to protect and support you, always. And I mean to uphold that vow.'

Eilahnen blinked hard against fresh tears.

'But mama, weren't you happy about me becoming a Hasa'asha like you? Keeping up the tradition?'

This time Brierdahla laughed, a dry chuckle, and the corners of her eyes crinkled in the smile.

'Of course I was, silly girl. I was thrilled that you would deign to follow in my footsteps, thrilled to have someone dear to my heart that I could pass my skills to. But in your anxiousness, you overlooked something important. I only ever expected you to do this if it was something that truly brought you joy!'

Gently, she flicked her finger off the tip of her daughter's nose, but Eilahnen barely felt it; her mind was racing, and that all-too-familiar criticism had begun to chorus softly in the back of her head again. When she replied, her voice was strangely tight and high.

'I saw your willingness to teach me as something different, mama. I always thought that to become a crafter was what you expected of me.'

'Then you didn't see the situation very clearly.' Her mother had started to rock her again, ever so gently, absentmindedly.

'I never wanted to make you feel trapped, or obliged. I wanted only to help you grow. I wish you'd seen my intentions for what they were, da'len, and I wish you'd been honest with me. No good can come when you hide your heart, especially from the ones who love you.'

The last vestige of Eilahnen's stubborn pride finally came tumbling down, and with it came a torrent of shame and regret. Her eyes overflowed once again with tears, and she leaned into her mother to cling like a vine, grinding out the words that tried to stick in her throat.

'I've been a fool, mama,' she sobbed. 'I've insulted you and papa, gave you none of the credit you've deserved. No apology can take back the fact that I jumped to conclusions, and all along, I should've just trusted you. I feel so...' she shuddered. 'So lost.'

Brierdahla was silent for a moment, but when she spoke, her breath was warm against Eilahnen's ear, and her words arrowed her straight back to childhood.

'These feelings can be fixed, ma lath. They'll pass, when you're ready to let them. And besides, it's as I've always told you; so long as there is breath in me, you will never be truly lost.'

When Athras reentered the aravel, he found Eilahnen and Brierdahla in the midst of some kind of debate; they were leaning towards one another conspiratorially, and Eilahnen was shaking her head vigorously as she spoke, her brow deeply furrowed.

'I really don't think that's a good idea, mama. Honestly, I'd feel completely ridiculous.'

'And what is it that you'd rather do instead, Eilahn? Stay hidden in the aravel all day?'

'I might! What would the others all think?'

'Nothing out of place, I'm sure. They have no reason to judge you. No reason, Eilahnen.'

Their daughter looked like she was going to argue some more against whatever was being suggested, but Brierahla cut her off before she could.

'You've had a very long day, da'len. Why don't you do yourself a favor and turn in for the night? Your father and I are going to go out for a walk, give you some time alone. Just promise me that you'll think about coming tomorrow. Stewing will do you no good. Think about it? Please?'

Eilahnen stared at her for a moment, and then huffed a deep, aggravated sigh. 'Alright, mama. I'm not making any promises, but I'll think about it. And...' she bit her lip, and he could see traces of the earlier tears still shining in her eyes. 'Thank you, for everything. Hamin son min'nydha.'

She then leapt up nimbly from her spot on the floor, and when she reached where he stood, she kissed him quickly on the cheek. She mumbled a hasty 'goodnight', and then disappeared into her loft.

Athras was thunderstruck. He'd only been gone for twenty minutes, and when he'd left, his daughter had been wailing like the wind. Dumbfounded, he met his wife's gaze, which he noted seemed strangely bright.

'Vhenan...what—'

Brierdahla silenced him with a swift shake of her head, and then rose from the ground and came to his side.

'Not here, Athras,' she whispered. 'I'll explain everything once we're outside.'

With that said, she promptly took him by the hand and dragged him there.

Eilahnen watched through the tiny window in her loft as her parents walked away, and then let out a sigh. Flopping down onto her fir browse mattress, she pressed her face into the fragrant wool and closed her tired eyes.

For the first time in months, she wasn't numb with despair, and she found that the lightness in her chest felt almost foreign to her.

As the moon came to slant through her window and shine against her hair, she reflected on all of the words that had been exchanged.

After her mother had versed that shared and sentimental line, she'd pulled back from their embrace and their eyes had met. They had shared several moments of meaningful silence—but she still didn't feel like she could rest, and eventually Eilahnen had let loose with her last shameful little secret.

'It's not so simple, mama. I shouldn't have kept this from you, but that isn't where the problem ends. I don't want to be a hasa'asha anymore, that's true. But I don't have any other apprenticeship in mind, either. I don't know what I want to be or do.'

She'd been miserable when she said it, full of doubt and frustration. But her mother hadn't even skipped a beat—she'd simply taken Eilahnen's hand and smiled.

'That's something you'll figure out when the time is right, ma lath. Every child comes to their purpose at their own pace.'

'No, mama, I shouldn't be waiting anymore. I'm of age, I've already received my vallaslin. I need to start contributing to the clan, or else I'm a failure either way.'

'That's not true, da'len. You aren't the first of the Children to be unsure, and you won't be the last. The gods knew what they were doing when they mapped out our paths—you'll see.'

She'd snorted in response. 'So are you saying that everyone's actions are set in place from the start, mama? We have no freedom, no free will?'

'Of course not, Eilahnen. We all have choices to make that the gods cannot foresee. We are simply taught that no person comes into the world without a purpose—it's the first gift that the Evanuris ever give us.'

Eilahnen had known she was being dramatic with her next comment, but she couldn't help herself.

'Perhaps there are people that the Evanuris overlook.'

'Eilahnen.' Her mother's voice had suddenly been both exasperated and stern. 'Listen to me. Do you honestly need one more thing to worry about?' She'd softly clucked her tongue as Eilahnen hung her head in chagrin. 'Why don't you try being wise instead of stubborn, my silly little girl, and stop trying to force what you can't control?'

She'd wanted to argue, but couldn't ignore the simple logic behind her mother's words. After a long and silent pause, she'd sighed; maybe Brierdahla was right. Willing herself to decide what she wanted wouldn't make it happen...and the gods damn well knew that she definitely worried too much.

Her mother had smelled defeat, and there was satisfaction in her voice when she'd spoken next.

'And until you do decide what apprenticeship you want to take, you should come to the crafting circle anyway.'

Mortified, her head had snapped up and her cheeks had abruptly flamed. When her mother looked to speak, she'd protested over her.

'Mama, I can't! I just can't. I've been apprenticing for weeks, and to suddenly stop now and just sit there like a sack of grain? You can't be serious!'

'And why not? The socialization will do you good, da'len. And maybe something you see around the camp will give you inspiration.'

Eilahnen was so wrapped up in her mother's unexpected enthusiasm that she'd barely noticed her father return. Shaking her head, she'd repeated her concern.

'I really don't think that's a good idea, mama. Honestly, I'd feel completely ridiculous.' The mere thought of the looks she'd undoubtedly receive from her classmates was enough to make her squirm; she'd already been planning on spending her time between apprenticeships wandering the edge of the camp, searching herself—or better yet, just keeping to herself entirely.

'And what is it that you'd rather do instead, Eilahn? Stay hidden in the aravel all day?'

It was as if her mother had read her mind. Throwing up her hands in exasperation, she'd groaned, suddenly wishing for a place to hide.

'I might! What would the others all think?'

But her mother wouldn't yield. Brierdahla was unfailingly optimistic, and maddeningly level-headed. She'd simply ended up asking Eilahnen to think about her proposal, knowing full well that Eilahnen would, ultimately, see it as too reasonable to refuse.

Already, left alone in the aravel, she had to admit that her mother had been right about one thing: she was much more likely to find inspiration outside amidst the working clan members than she was holed up in her loft.

And, loathe as she was to admit it, she didn't really have a better idea. After their talk, Eilahnen was finally beginning to accept that she couldn't force herself to decide on her own purpose, at her own convenient pace. But it didn't really lessen the embarrassment prickling the back of her neck.

The pesky little voice in her head chose then to interject. Still, you can't find what you don't look for.

Groaning loudly in frustration, she rolled onto her back and pushed her fists against her temples. 'Okay, fine, fine,' she shouted irritably to the empty room. 'I'll go! Fenedhis.' As she curled resignedly into a ball and nestled there, she felt raw and over-sensitive, as if she'd been scrubbed with pine needles from the inside out. She felt tired, and harassed—mostly by herself. But she noticed that there was also an odd sense of relief.

With the decision finally made, she'd dropped off quickly, and for the first time in a long time, her dreams were actually peaceful.

'Elgar'nan, what a mess.'

Athras was shaking his head, torn between wanting to laugh and shout.

Brierdahla had taken him to a secluded little clearing on the edge of the camp to tell him what had happened while he'd been occupied with the Keeper over border patrols, and she'd finally come to the end of her story.

They'd sat together in the moonlight and she'd held his hand as she recounted everything their daughter had said and done...and what she'd planned to do. He had asked questions as they'd come to mind, and his wife had promptly given him the facts, or else her own speculations when there were no facts to be had.

As the story had unfolded, Athras had found himself pulled in many different directions—horror, at his daughter's unhappiness, but then pride at her resolve. Insult at her lack of faith in them, but then sympathy to her naive anxiety. And always, a strong urge to protect her. Before long, his head had been spinning.

Now Brierdahla was finished, and Athras couldn't settle on just one emotion.

'I just...I don't...'

Brows furrowed, he looked down at his wife, and quickly noticed that she was taking evident amusement from his trouble. Her eyes were alight with humor, her soft mouth quirked into a sage little smile, and her head was tipped to one side as she watched him.

'Take your time, ma lath,' she sing-songed sweetly. 'I'll wait.'

Her coyness pushed the worry from his mind. 'You little minx!' Suddenly laughing himself, he dove at her and wrestled her to the ground, dragging long peals of laughter out of her as he tickled her ribs.

'Look at you, taking delight in your poor husband's confusion!' Rolling on top of her, he caged her with his arms and leaned in close. 'My little woman,' he growled, before he nipped at her jaw.

'Always so smart, one step ahead of me, and laughing while she waits for me to catch up.' He met her eyes then, smiling, and found them dancing; full of mirth and, as always, that endless blue that took his breath away.

'I always wait for you, though, don't I?' There was love in the words, so obvious to him, and before he could reply she had molded her mouth to his; it was a kiss so deep that he lost his head, and for a while, they thought of nothing but each other.

Some time later, they laid in the grass together, Brierdahla nestled in the crook of his arm, staring at the moon. When Athras spoke, his voice was serious.

'Do you think I need to talk to her about all of this?'

Brierdahla hummed, satisfied, before she drew an arm up over his chest. 'You could if you wanted to, vhenan. But I think that she was finally able to unload tonight, and that was all she really needed.'

He turned his head to look at her, counted the freckles, barely visible, on her nose.

'Do you think she's going to be alright, now? Do you think she'll find her way?'

Her hand feathered lightly down the side of his face before resting against his neck, and she stared at him seriously, a mere breath away. 'I do, Athras. I really do.'

Relief spread through him, and he smiled. 'Good, I'm glad. I'm so proud of our girl, Briera.'

'So am I, vhenan. So am I.' Suddenly, she yawned, and then quickly kissed his nose.

'Now, it's been a long day, and I'm tired. Carry me home, will you?'

Again, looking down at her, he had to laugh and shake his head.

'Ma nuvenin, vhenan.'

What did you think of this chapter? Reviews mean a lot to me!