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And at the same time, I have to deal with the disgusting treatment of some xaphans. Like Zathex, who would rather see me as a piece of meat than a person with thoughts and emotions. Or ambitions. Dreams of my own.
“A lummi for your thoughts?” my dad asks with a grin. “You seem more tired than usual today. You’re hardly eating your food. Did you get hurt during training?”
“No, not at all, I –”
“Did someone hurt you?”
“No!” I shake my head, but thoughts of Zathex come to the forefront.
The stupid xaphan and his white wings with blue undertones. If I could rip those off of him and put them on my own back to wear, I would. “Don’t be silly. No one can hurt me while I’m in the training camp.”
“Then…?” My dad perks a brow. He sets aside his spoon and folds his hands over the table. “Are you sure nothing’s bothering you? You know you can speak to me about whatever is on your mind, right?”
“I know that, Dad. I do, but sometimes I don’t want to bother you with my little problems. You have enough on your plate as it is.”
“That’s where you’re wrong. One day, when you have kids of your own, you’ll understand me better. But right now, I would never brush off your problems and worries. And I would never act as if my problems are somehow worse than yours.”
Smiling slightly, I know that my dad means his words. He’s an honorable man, one who sleeps soundly at night knowing that he’s done right by others. Still, I have my reservations about telling him about Zathex. This isn’t a situation he can do anything about, unfortunately.
I’ll put that annoying bastard in his place one of these days. Once I get my wings, maybe.
“I guess I’ve been more stressed out because of the increased amount of training we’ve been going through. The final candidates are getting whipped into shape so that they’re completely ready to receive their wings.”
My dad nods, listening intently. “This should be an exciting time for you, then.”
“Exciting and exhausting all at once.” I slurp down some soup. Sitting back and smelling the aroma instead of eating makes my stomach complain loudly. “Thank you for the soup, Dad. You’ve made my night a thousand times better.”
Dad takes out an old rag and wipes his mouth with it. His knuckles are callused, and old scars dance across his skin. “I have to show you what the greenhouse looks like nowadays. It’s truly incredible. Do you remember Josiah, Marney’s boy? He’s taken up an interest in gardening as well! I hope to teach him some tricks soon.”
The thought of a younger boy following my dad around the greenhouse warms my heart. A small part of me wishes that it could be me assisting him wherever he goes, but the circumstances don’t allow that.
I have to be the one to drag us out of poverty. It doesn’t matter if I destroy my body in the process. My dad will have a better life for himself. I’ll make sure of it.
Oh, Mom. I wonder how different our lives would be had you lived a little longer.
Maybe then I wouldn’t have to work so hard to get my xaphan wings. Maybe I’d have a bakery in the settlement or even a clothing store. In my daydreams, I imagine myself spinning threads to make the finest silk across all of New Solas. Xaphans, nymphs, fae, everyone would line up outside of my shop to buy their clothes.
“There you go again,” my dad jokes. His bowl sits empty, while mine still rests with most of the bisque. “Lost in your thoughts like always. You know, your mother used to do that a lot.”
“Then I must’ve got that from her.”
“That would make a lot of sense. And that intense stubbornness and desire to succeed comes from her, too.”
Dad gathers his plate and brings it over to the faucet to wash. Meanwhile, I do my best to eat every last drop of bisque. I don’t like wasting food, especially when my dad’s hands were the ones who made the dish.
By the time I’m done, he clears the table and guides me outside to our porch. He hands me a small cup of meadowmint tea as he tells me stories about his youth before he settled in New Solas.
Every now and then, as my father’s words wander in my mind, I stare up at the night sky and think. He deserves a good future. And so do I.
2
KAZRITH
“Stupid fucking xaphans,” I mutter. “All this talk about New Solas and they can’t even bother to clear their roads?”
One of my hands clutches the reins that control my two zarryns, who dutifully haul my trading carriage along the narrow roads that lead to the New Solas trading hub. My other hand sneaks out from underneath me, manipulating the shadows cast down by the sunlight.
Curling my fingers, the shadows begin to move as I want them to. Usually, I can create claws or wings that act as extensions of my body. This time around, a dagger shapes itself out of the darkness, which then cuts through the lousy shrubbery that blocks my zarryns from passing through.
