Strange New Eyes

Epilogue - Summer

Aysel breathed in the scent of summer.

It was so much different here on the mountain than it was down in her native valley. Here the air was colder, but somehow brighter too, as if she was inhaling a bit of the sun that streamed down over the craggy peaks.

What had once been bare rock was now covered in springy mosses and small flowers, and the ground was soft on her bare feet as she limped across it towards Dunyasha's cozy cabin cut into the mountainside. The brace she had made had taken some getting used to, but after cycles of practice and a few painful tumbles, she could traverse the rocky ground almost as well as Dunyasha could.

She smiled and shook her head as she saw Dunyasha crawling headfirst down the steep side of a cliff towards their home. She could never really be as nimble as her, but she didn't care, so long as she was able to carry the basket of berries she had picked.

"You found some!" Dunyasha called, delighted. She hopped down and landed beside Aysel, then dipped her hands into the basket. "Mm, these will make delicious jam." She popped the berries in her mouth.

"Then don't eat all of them!" she chided, snatching the basket away from her. "But yes, I read your note telling me where to find them very well, despite your messy handwriting."

Her eyes glinted as she smiled. "Had to be a challenge, didn't it?"

"Trust me, it was." She led the way inside. The fire was already lit, casting its light on the furs strewn on the floor and the untidy piles of books, wonderful things of pounded wood pulp and leather, filled with words. Dunyasha had to force her to practice reading them at first, but as she improved, she started to pick them up on her own, especially on the still-chilly nights.

She poured the berries into the pot over the fire. "My family would always make jam in late summer," she said.

"You miss them, don't you?"

"Yes. Although I've been enjoying the notes they send me. Their writing is getting very good. And they've been saying they'll be home soon."

"We should visit. Bring them some jam," she said, reaching down to steal another handful of berries.

Aysel laughed, then sobered. "That means Enrick will be coming back as well."

"Yes."

"I don't want to see him." She crossed her arms over her chest, as if the gesture could protect her from old betrayals. "It's been cycles, but I still don't want to see him."

"Then you don't have to." Dunyasha touched her shoulder. "He'll be a mountain away. And that's far if you're as lazy as he is."

She smiled weakly. "A mountain between me and him will have to do."

"Good. And if he ever comes, I'll fling berries at him," she said, tossing one at Aysel with a smirk.

She giggled; she loved when Dunyasha was silly. "Stop; the jam!" she said.

"Jam yourself." She tossed another handful.

"You're getting berry in my hair."

"Have I ever told you I loved your hair?" Dunyasha asked.

"Only every few days."

"Good. Have I ever told you I loved you?"

Aysel smiled and reached for Dunyasha's cheek. "No. Say it again."

"I love you."

Aysel kissed her jawline. "Again."

"I love you."

Aysel kissed her lips. "Again."

"I love you," she whispered, and kissed her back at last.

Aysel kissed back just as passionately, standing on her tiptoes to reach, bringing her hands up to cradle Dunyasha's face, still covered in old blood-drawn scars. She was still beautiful. She was always beautiful.

Dunyasha slipped her hand down Aysel's back, undoing the buttons on her tunic one by one and trailing her fingers down her skin, bringing pleasant shivers with them. Aysel shrugged out of the shoulders, then paused. "What about the jam?" she asked.

Dunyasha leaned back and tugged gently at the collar of her tunic. Her golden eyes glowed. "We can make it another time, can't we?" she asked. "I don't really care about jam right now."

Aysel smiled and kissed her, her heart rising like the morning sun.

It was summer, and Dunyasha was in her arms. It was summer, and for the first time in a long time, it felt like the shattered pieces of her world just might fit together.

It was summer, and it was going to be okay.