Tales from Niveen

Chapter 2 - Vanya

Althaes - Elith, City of Flowers

55th day of Banem, year 146, Era of Ke'larri

I awake in the dark to a flash of lightning and cracking thunder. At the sound, Pepper jolts up, claws tearing at the sheets and my legs as she scrambles from the bed and out of sight. Through the open window, I can see mist hanging low over the gardens as the rain softly pitter-patters down. The clouds shine brightly in the east, nearly sunrise, and I catch the hushed voices of Monah and Mama Ada floating in from somewhere on the back porch. Before I can shut my eyes, another burst of lightning, a boom of thunder, and I know I will not find sleep again.

I stretch and slide out of bed, muscles stiff in the frigid, wet morning and I feel a shock up my spine as my feet splash into an ice-cold puddle of rainwater. I give a small yelp and throw down a bedsheet to soak it up. Rain continues to spray in as it smacks against the windowsill and I cross quickly to close it. Wiping my feet on the tattered rug next to the wardrobe, I struggle with the sticky door for a moment before it finally gives. Inside, I quickly rifle through blouses and trousers, snagging anything that looks light and airy and tossing it to the bed. I am not confident any of it will be good enough to ease the heat - my father told me stories about how oppressively sweltering Eporo is and how he had journeyed in his cold-weather clothing, only to pass out from the heat once his feet touched the shore.

In the back of the wardrobe, I find his tattered traveling coat, the leather musty and worn in streaks and patches. It's not practical to wear, even in Althaes, but makes me feel like he will be with us, so I toss it with the other clothes on my bed before changing for the day.

Once I have finished packing, the suns have just begun to peek out from below the horizon and I can smell food wafting in with the draft under my door. I shuffle my way out to the kitchen to see Mama Ada seated next to the oven, closely watching eggs and peaches sizzling in two great pans over the hot coals. A bowl of fresh greens and a plate of bread are already set out on a table on the porch. A pitcher of tea sits beside them and my mouth suddenly becomes impossibly dry with thirst.

As I grab a mug, Ada's hoarse voice calls, "you better go see that girl before you head out, gods know I've got no time or business helping her while you're gone."

"Yes, mama," I say, rounding back to plant a kiss on her sweaty forehead before heading outside.

On the back porch, I see Monah digging around the gardens in a colorful smock that frames her like a balloon, balancing her beeswax parasol lightly over her shoulders. As I pour my tea, she spots me and makes her way back.

"I like the smock," I laugh as she sits at the table.

She rolls her eyes and waves me away.

"I like to wear it in the gardens so I won't care too much if it gets dirty," she says.

"I'm teasing of course. It just reminds me of when you were little," I chuckle.

She smiles as she picks at a piece of bread. She doesn't say anything else, so we sit like that for a while. I watch the rain come down over the gardens and beyond, the mist beginning to clear as the suns rise higher in the sky. Monah looks up at me finally, droplets of water hanging from her eyelashes, and my heart sinks.

"Please don't -", I start. She shakes her head vigorously and laughs as the tears overflow.

"No, no. I'm just thinking what Father would feel right now. He would be so proud of you," she says.

"You too," I say, barely holding back my own tears.

Monah was only a newborn when our father left for Perimia. For the first eleven years of my life, he only ever talked about his travels and how he had to see Perimia before he died, but that all changed when our mother, Onietta, fell ill with the plague shortly after giving birth. The plague ran rampant through Althaes at the time, and father insisted he couldn't go with her in such a state... and with Monah just born - people typically didn't recover and we expected the worst for her. The crown was persistent though, visiting the house every day for a week until mother finally urged him to take the voyage. She said Mama Ada could come take care of us and she didn't want him to miss his dream.