“Just what do you think you’re doing, menina? Spyin' on folks in my bar?” says the thin man with his hairy knuckles wrapped around Sundeera’s arm. “I run a respectable place, one where anyone can fall into their cups without bein’ taken advantage of.”

Sundeera’s thoughts turn to grains of sand and fall through enough holes for her mind to go blank. “I-I wasn’t spying,” she says, hearing her own lie as clear as the night sky and tries to buy time to think, “Who are you?”

“You come drink my wine yet never heard of Lawad Bharata?" He waits for a reaction, and his shoulders sink a little when she shrugs at him. "My friends call me Wad. I own all the drinking tents at the festival, not just the Rinna Rose behind us. I brew the strongest ale and sew the enchanted fabric that you high-living folk love to fawn over. Now quit tryin’ to distract me and spit out what you’re fussin’ around with.”

Reeling in the empty lie, she replaces the bait with a chunk of the truth. “Okay, you’re right. I was spying. I’m so sorry, but I’m not trying to cause any trouble. I swear!”

Lawad loosens his grip, “I’m listenin’.”

“I’m just worried about my mother. She’s always been a bit timid, but now she’s going to bones, staying up all night, her untouched supper-plate on the table while she looks out the window with hollow eyes, waiting for any sign of him. You see, my father's been acting so strange lately, staying out till dawn or later some nights, though she refuses to ask him anything when he does come home." She blinks furiously. "I finally worked up the courage to follow him tonight, maybe find out where he’s been going.” She holds her eyes open to well with tears and tries to make her lip quiver. “I didn’t think I’d see him with another…”

Concern budding in his eyes, he releases her arm and offers the cloth hanging over his shoulder. “Ah, don’t cry. You don’t haf’ta go any further and work yourself into a lather. Next time, just look with your eyes, okay? No magic allowed in my tents. Don’t mix well with the fuzzy minds,” he says, tapping the side of his head.

Sundeera takes the cloth and dabs at her eyes. “I swear to Aša, I’ll never do it again. I didn’t realize anyone could even tell what I was doing.” She finds herself surprised at how easily the spirit’s name flows from her lips.

Lawad puffs out his chest and smiles. “Ah, if you were anywhere else, there’d be none the wiser to your little trick. Quite clever, but I come from a long line of men who were born listenin’ to the wind." He flutters his hand through the air. "Anyone creates even the faintest breeze in the air and I know it. We can trace our family tree back to the original migrations from Aprora. Our ancestors soared through the skies, ridin’ between the feathered wings of the great aranaks. The birds were as big as mature male taratarms, but I've heard tell of one or two big ones, grand as a matriarch 'tarm." He closes his eyes, lifting his face to the sky.

"Can you picture it?" he asks when she remains quiet. "Handfuls of ush plateaus, towerin' high enough to sit in the clouds. Them beautiful birds were the only way my people endured in such spirit-cursed land. Enclave Bharata does not shy from challenge, we welcome challenge with open arms,” he says with pride.

Sundeera recognizes the adage, potentially a battle cry before evolving into an Enclave's chant of tradtition once peace reigned, but she can't remember when she heard it. She does, however, recall observing more than one elder repeating similarly structured adages right before they took The Last Breath.

During her Devotion, the season Hindari children must spend caring for elders in their final days, she soothed and eased a record number of elders into their final journey to the Unknown Realm, but that was five long seasons ago, and most if those memories have already gained those fuzzy edges that make it harder to tell the difference between fantasy and reality.

The way Lawad speaks kindles a vague nostalgia in her, and his words so clearly paint the scene he describes that she finds herself imagining one of those enormous birds swooping down from the sky to help her fly to the Collaboration in seconds. The longer she stands here, the more her chest tightens in sync with the darkening sky. The faint echo of Lyro’s laughter bounces through her mind as loudly as when it talks to itself. At least, that's what she calls the confusing conversations the spirit seems to have about her but not directed to her.

Lawad seems nice enough, but she can tell he likes to talk. Several of the other Inaru Acolytes were the chatty type, and she quickly learned how skilled they were at fending off any attempt to end a conversation, so she says nothing and opts for a look of wonder and awe.

“Little one, you've made me smile an old smile," he says after soaking in her admiration. "You have an aura of good memories to you, and I respect what that foretells. If you find yourself in the Capital, anywhere you are, ask for Wad and I'll come, and my sincere apologies for acting so sharp over what seems like small beans, but them’s the rules. You’ll sooner find me sittin’ dry than breakin’ a just rule.”

“I undersatnd, Lawa-, uh, Wad. I'm sorry for causing you trouble.”

“Stay safe in the dark, menina," he says and spins around gracefully. Despite his size, he seems to float rather than walk back to the Rinna Rose, the cloth with her fake tears neatly slapping over his shoulder with a flourish. Sundeera chews on something about the conversation, its strangeness somehow familiar in a way she can’t put her finger on.

Before the seeds of long buried memories take root, she quickly builds the connection with Lyro, and once again, she marvels at the way it feels. Distracting thoughts dissipate into the void, and everything else usually trying to snatch at her attention melts into the background. The storm that's been brewing in her belly breaks into a focused calm, and with steady breath, she savors every sensation as the link to Lyro's power causes every inch of her skin to tingle with an icy fire.

Taking off into a slow jog, Sundeera prepares her senses for the incoming jolt. The Támaru prepares to imbue her body with its energy, but this time she’s ready, though her right side is still a little sore from her first attempt.

You're not prepared," it teased.

"Of course I am. You're looking at the Acolyte who passed the Ice Trials in first place. I even broke an Inaru adept record," Sundeera said as she stretched each muscle group in her lower body.

"In a child's game," it said and laughed.

"If the most grueling experience I've ever had was just a child's game, what does that make you since I won it?" She could feel the irritation prickling like freshly cut hair sticking to a damp neck, and she stood up straight, shaking her arms like she'd seen others do before strenuous activity.

"The reason you didn't fail," it said matter-of-factly, "and I'd beg to differ." The voice had taken a more serious tone with the last bit.

Normally one capable of ignoring a taunt, she felt Lyro was purposely pressing her buttons and couldn't help herself. "How did I not win if I passed the trial, bonded a Támaru, and did it faster than everyone else? All while being driven mad from lack of sleep while everyone else snored on peacefully, night after night."

"From the nightmares?"

"Of course the nightmares!" she snapped, breaking into a sprint right away. "What else would it- wait . . . how did you-"

"Your most grueling experience was my point of contention. And you did so well at the trials because you didn't play fair."

A wave of collective emotion tried to rush out from the well of her heart, colliding in her throat and twisting into a knot so tight she couldn't speak. In that helpless moment, Lyro sent a pulse of his energy coursing through her body, and she felt it overtake every fiber within her, igniting the fundmental process behind every cell's purpose with an otherworldly spark and forcing a series of hyper-reactions suddenly possible through Lyro. It was as if the spirit was creating some sort of a passageway connecting everything within her at once; past, present, and future fully linked and imbued with something she couldn't quite name.

Her body leapt through the air, and she was suddenly a passenger, watching herself launching faster and faster as if propelled by an explosion and directly into a crumbling stone wall. Her hip smacked the stone hard enough to send pebbles showering down the other side, and the momentum she built sent her legs flying over her head so she could complete one full rotation before tumbling down a grassy knoll along with the rubble she'd just dislodged.

This time, she isn't fuming from silent jabs, ones she'd bet money on Lyro having aimed at her just for the fun of it. It was yet another oddity of her Támaru, along with its refusal to make itself known to her in any way. Most bonded spirits reveal themselves to their Gidan right away, though some do take their time before selecting a form that fits them most, usually male or female in appearance. Lyro hasn't shared a thing with her.

When everyone arrived, the other Inaru Adepts gossiped over the rumors they'd hear about Támaru, what they were told back home. Things like how to identify a primary Támaru’s magic affiliation, power, strengths and weaknesses, any helpful aspect. They were all wrong, of course, but even the Inaru Masters are wrong in what she'd been led to expect. Lyro remains as unreadable to her now as it did the moment it accepted bonding, and she isn't sure whether she’s bothered more by getting such a confusing spirit or the fact that she feels completely alone in all of it.

With the problems that occurred soon after she passed her Ice Trial, everyone was too busy to answer any of her questions or listen to her concerns. She passed, so she could leave. They were more preoccupied with being unable to lift the Veil, which she reminded herself is quite the pressing matter. They didn't exactly say what the consequences could be if they don't figure it out, but she knew legitimate concern when she saw it and chose to burden herself, alone, with the task of sorting out her very tricky and very self-amusing Támaru.

So this time, instead of running as fast as she can, she keeps to a slow trot as the power fills her body. Even with all the extra trouble she's faced, the thrill of this connection is exhilarating. The winds whip faster through her hair as she increases her speed. Within seconds, she can feel the ground rushing up to meet her foot and give it that little extra spring forward with every stride. She revels in the lightness of her body's supreme efficiency, not an ounce of energy wasted.

After a minute, she can no longer feel the cold night air biting against her skin. It’s as if something is repelling the very molecules around her, pushing them out and away to allow her to slip through some sort of in-between space, and before she realizes it, she is approaching the juniper arches in their full glory. Each flower is in full-bloom under the striking moonlight, sparkling pollen pluming in little puffs to sparkle down on those passing underneath.

“Did I save you some time?” Lyro asks as she slows down.

“More than I expected. You are so full of surprises.”

“I don't know if I'm more impressed that you noticed or that you managed to stay on your feet this time.”

Ignoring the jest, Sundeera comes to a stop and shakes her limbs as they buzz with the expectation of more, and it hurts just a little to sever the connection with Lyro. She smooths her hair and pulls a thin scarf from her pouch, tying it around her neck. Walking calmly to the spectator decks, she brushes her clothes off, and while the dust and smudges wipe off easily, the fabric itself is terribly wrinkled. Still wearing the bracelet, she quietly creates a binding and channels a small amount of heat, and coaxing the moisture around her to collect in her palms, she uses her hands to smooth the wrinkles until her robes look fresh.

She must find Kywen if she’s going to interfere with her bid.