Ad Astra

Chapter 2

The next morning, I wake in my bed in Tetoa. My eyes open slowly, threatening to droop once more as my body stirs, but judging by the streams of sunlight filtering through the window, I can already tell I've overslept.

I sit up and stretch. The scent of fresh-cooked eggs floods through the household. Across from me, Kiana's bed is already neatly made, and in the distance, I can hear a lively discussion over the breakfast I assume Taika has cooked up. While the morning appears all but normal, once I let out a loud yawn, I am reminded again of what kept me up the evening before.

My mother's plan.

Quickly, anger fills my veins again. I carefully take my time making my bed and dressing for the day, knowing that as soon as I walk out of the bedroom, I'll need to maintain a calm composure. I briefly glance at myself in the mirror, ignoring the bags under my eyes, and take a few deep breaths before I join the others in the kitchen.

My mother, Kiana, and Taika are sitting around the kitchen table, eating morning's breakfast and engaging in normal conversation. They speak nothing of Mama's plan, of course, afraid to be overheard by any soldiers patrolling the neighborhood streets, but it's clear that the excitement in their voices can't stem from anything else.

"You sure slept forever," Kiana observes.

"That is a habit you'll have to get over," my mother says.

Too tired to respond to my mother and sister, I pull out a seat and smile graciously up at Taika as he pushes a fresh plate of eggs toward me. I eat quietly, listening to my mother share her schedule for the day; how she'll be at several meetings, that she'll be back later to discuss more details with us, and that Kiana and I must keep any information related to the plan secretive for now. I nod and give short answers when necessary, but I can't help but grip onto the edge of the table, trying to release my frustration in any way I can.

Finally, I can't bear to be in my family's presence any longer.

"I'm going on a walk," I announce suddenly. My mother and Taika seem startled by my sudden rise from the table, but my mother's expression relaxes.

"Be safe," she says.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Later, I walk steadily down the streets of Tetoa, hoping the fresh air will improve my sour mood. Though the villagers greet me kindly as I pass, and though my walk affords a serene view of the sun's rays dancing on the waters of Tetoa Bay, I can't help but shake my frustration. Meanwhile, I'm sure my mother, Kiana, and Taika must be talking excitedly in my absence about the plans that are about to unfold.

Plans that I barely play a part in.

I shift my direction towards the market, figuring that eating some fresh fruit will give me a few moments of solace before I'll be angrily reminded of what the next months or even years will have in store for me. I quickly locate my favorite fruit stand, situated near the back of the market, where the neighborhood and market streets intersect. An elderly woman named Sira runs the small stand, and though she sells less than her competitors, I find that no other vendor sells fruit as sweet.

"Two melon slices," I say, dropping a few coins into her hand.

As she wraps the melon slices delicately in some paper for me to enjoy, I notice the presence of her husband, whose name I cannot quite recall. He mutters a few words to her in a foreign tongue, which I quickly recognize to be the ancient language of Landiani. I think he is brave to speak it so openly, especially when soldiers patrol the streets, ready to chastise those who speak anything other than Magnuvian. It is a language I will never know since a hundred years of colonization have caused most of the nation to lose its native tongue. My mother supposedly knows a few phrases in Landiani, but Kiana and myself have only ever grown up speaking the same tongue as the Magnuvians, and my only relationship with the ancient language now is the music that my father taught me before he passed.