Pai was wide awake waiting for dawn. She had managed to talk herself out of a good third of the hundreds of things she had talked herself in to worrying about. Hopefully it would be enough to get her all the way to Ivarstead before dusk. Today is the day, she kept telling herself.
The blessing ceremony the night before gave the affair a quality of permanence, like her older brother's years before. In Pai's mind, indeed in the minds of every member of the community, Dol was gone. And today, Pai would be too.
The shrill wail of the rooster shattered the night. Soon the signs of life would creep in around the edges of her shuttered window. Today was the day.
Pai rolled out from under the fur she shared with her young sister Meika, who stirred and cooed, and rolled her plump form away. Pai stood and pulled on her elegant, patterned breeches. A gift from the community. Her mother Yala did the beadwork. Pai felt powerful pulling them up. The first day would be the toughest, but it will get better and better and better. An age of practice was behind her, an age of discovery would be ahead. She took a final look at her tome of healing magic, over which she had poured her entire adolescence, and told herself, again, she would be learning so much more. She fetched her pack and strapped her cudgel to her hip. She quietly left her sleeping sister, and stepped into a tranquil dawn.
Yala was already up. She stirred a pot of oatmeal and hummed softly to herself. Pai grew more confident by the moment. She walked the fifty or so steps to her mother's cook fire with her heart as full of gratitude as much as it was fear. She fished her finely carved wooden bowl from her tunic and offered it to Yala.
"Oh princess, oh darling, Oh daughter of miiiine.." Yala's humming became singing as she took the bowl and spooned in a heap of hot, gooey and delicious breakfast. It looked exactly as fortifying as it was. Pai took it eagerly.
"The pine thrush twittered first this morning. I feel your journey will be marked with wealth and plenty. I'm so proud of you, Pai' trica." Yala said.
No one else was awake to see her off. Pai wasn't sure if that was good or bad. Everyone had seen Dol off. But he awoke much later. Pai smiled at the thought of running into her brother, out there in the world. And in spite of herself, she felt the well of loneliness in front of her.
"Nobody to see me off? Well, I'm glad you're here." Pai said.
"Oh honey, don't blame them. You were always getting up before everyone else. Ever since you were little." Yala tisked. "Besides, you remember what a night it was."
Her uncle Lob had lost so much coin to her father Ogul in that drunken contest they made up, what was it, throwing axes at a pine cone? Pai tried a throw, but she missed by a lot, surprising no one. The tenacity of her uncle, though! Pai knew exactly what that trait was in her. But his was all wrapped up in pride. Each throw he missed made him more reckless, each one he hit, more bold. Her father was wry enough to let Lob run himself into the ground. They had gone at it well into the night. Pai watched the whole spectacle, not wanting to miss a moment of it. Maybe she just wanted to live in that moment now.
"Yeah. You're right." Pai said, hopefully without too much longing. "I will miss your oatmeal"
"I will miss you, daughter." Yala said.
Pai smiled. The daylight was beginning to flow in over the tall wooden posts of the wall. The horses whinnied and huffed, the chickens scratched and clucked around. Pai gazed at the huge logs enclosing the village, upon every structure inside and made herself remember this feeling of home like a talisman. To comfort her in a moment of struggle.
"This is hard. I knew it would be, but I didn't know how much" Pai said.
"The hardest thing we can ever do is live our lives. But you are cunning and resourceful. You will make a fine way in this world" Yala confirmed.
Pai looked at her mother and beamed. Yala teared up and reached for Pai's bent elbow.
"My college mage. I'm so proud of you." Yala beamed back.
"You said that already."
"It's still true." and squeezed her elbow with reassurance.
Pai finished the bowl of oatmeal and wiped it clean before restoring it to her tunic. She placed her hand upon her mother's shoulder for the last time. Yala shivered a little, but a peace passed between them. The brief departure felt finished. Pai loaded her pack onto her back and made for the gate.
When she looked back, her father was standing at the door of the long house, his arm outstretched and face full of joy. Pai pushed firmly with her left hand while waving with her right, and hurried away from the sadness that bit at her as she went.
Outside the gate of Largashbur, she could see the sun cresting the eastern lowlands. She started deliberately, and walked with purpose. She did not look back at her home.