“Writing some more, Lani? What's eating at your mind now?”

My eyes wander to Atjani and back down at my diary. “Nothing,” I motion. My cot rattles. We were on a rooftop in a village outside the Felokyle. One of my tempests had found an inn for us to stay at. It was a single story house owned by a family with a place to stay at the top. Our horses whinny once below and my hair gently blows in their direction. I crawl to the side of my cot and put my hands over the wall. I peer over with my eyes and smile. They felt just as safe as me. I turn around to my diary and snatch it up. Atjani was eyeing it again and I make an angry face at him.

“My picture isn't in there anymore,” I say firmly.

I stare at Atjani and he stares back. It was in our blood. I still found it funny that he never stared too long. He only did so when he was pissed. Being in the middle of nowhere on our way to Mandelli didn't affect his frustration so deeply. It was closer in the direction of his home to the north east. I longed to return to Lam Lathi instead. We wouldn't be passing by on the way. Atjani wanted to go a different route.

“You're funny, Lani.”

Atjani grins. He looks around himself and gathers his thoughts. His sense of home and tribe never left him. Once in a while, his innocence peaked thought in smiles, like they did in the first years of his life. He talked about his old self frequently as if he could reach out and touch the past with is fingers. It was a time when life was accepted as it was. Planning the future didn't always work out as he intended.

“So what are you, lovely? Homesick all of a sudden?”

“Stop reading my diary,” I say. Atjani was staring over my shoulder. He was bored and needed someone to piss off. That was his excuse. The space between us grows comfortable, before I start writing again. I look over to make sure.

Atjani rubs his thumb over his scarred palm and stares deeply into my eyes. I look away. I was writing more and more. It kept my mind on Lam Lathi and the growing empire that consumed my childhood. I write out an inscription I remembered from my training. It was etched in tiger's eye, over the ancient building they used to house us in.

To desire what we wish

Or what the world desires for us

The inner struggle of love and hate

The passion

To find true love

Or perish with our suffering

The sacred war we breathe.

Lam Lathi always taught us that the world was hostile. They told us to overcome it. That mattered more than being like the other children, who weren't kidnapped. We were told that we were needed. The whippings when we failed to manipulate our possessor beings correctly were days long gone. For some reason, I missed those days. It was harsh, but it was filled with meaning. It made me the messenger that I was. I tuck away my diary underneath me and lean back on my creaking cot.

The cot I was on had a cloth roof that shook in the wind. The metal poles rattled periodically. There was a cut out in the top where I could see the stars. I wanted to sleep outside tonight. I lie on my back and gaze into the dark abyss above me. I look at the snowy colored moon and at all the beautiful stars. Atjani was already doing the same.

“Do you think there are other people out there, Atjani?,” I exhale.

“Yeah. Somewhere. They're probably just like us and wondering what the problem is. I'd be

jealous if life was easy for them,” he mutters.

“Do you think we'll meet them one day?”

Atjani sighs. “It's bound to happen, Lani. You always seem to run into the right people at the worst time. That's when the regrets come.”

Atjani closes his green eyes for a moment. He was lying on Nelessi's cot and she was downstairs buying some food. I had given her some of my messenger's pay. I didn't know how long I could support all three of us. I enjoyed their company. Money wasn't going to stop our friendship. I didn't want to travel by myself. Tempests couldn't replace a physical person.

Nelessi comes back with some food and I sit up. She hands three bowls.

I take a bite. I pass around the food in my bowl to Atjani and he passes it to Nelessi. She seemed unsure of what to do, but readily thanks us. We each take a few pieces and try a little of each.

“This is really good, Atjani. Thanks Nelessi,” I mumble.

“I like this,” Nelessi adds.

I tear off a few more pieces of my food. We share it all until the bottom remains. I wipe my fingers on the edge of my scarf. I would dip it in the river later. I sit on my cot and relax. I look over at Nelessi and toss her the other end of my scarf to wipe her fingers. It flops by her. She didn't have a scarf of her own. I wasn't going to buy her one either.

“Freelancers. They turn the stages into a world of coins.” I look at Nelessi with frustration.

When the stages could be bought completely, it would ruin everything. It would put a price on what shouldn't have one. I felt a little ashamed. The freelancer Atjani paid for, saved me a lot of trouble back in the Felokyle.

“Mmm.” I pause and open up a little. “Hey, Nelessi. Do you remember your tribe?”

Nelessi smiles. “I don't remember much.”

I didn't really care. Nelessi scoots closer to me on my cot and I wobble away. I hear talking downstairs and soon a stranger comes to the roof. My eyes dart to him as he approaches. He was a soldier and he looked wounded. It was Nathari Emana!

The three of us look at him as he nods to himself. He appeared a little surprised and a little relieved. I think he meant to stop here for the night.

“The battle is over. I meant to find you,” Nathari says locking eyes with me. I take another look at him. He was missing a two fingers and they were tied off with a bandage. He moved differently from his pain. The worst part was losing his ability to speak silently with us. It would never be the same for him without a full set of touches.

I take another look at Nathari's helm. He had tusks on it now, from being of higher rank. He also had the charms of a veteran hanging by his boots. Their lively shine, didn't match his weary and serious eyes.

“Nathari is my name,” he states to the others.

Atjani and Nelessi introduce themselves. I stare at Nathari.

“Why did you want to find me?” I ask. There is a long pause, before I receive a reply.

“The fighting was bad, but now it's over, Lani. It's finally over.”

Nathari takes a seat across from us and sighs. He had paid for a cot and was returning home to his wife. He still wore her bandanna across his mouth even when he spoke and slept. He could still faintly smell her in the cloth. I watch Nathari lie on his back and start to doze off. He didn't even bring his rifle with him, like Atjani had.

An uplifting breeze cools me and I shrug. Atjani shrugs back at me and we all decided to go to sleep.