Fury Of Nations - Chapter Three

Fury of Nations - Chapter Three

Previous Chapter: 2

Chapter One: 1

Next Chapter: 4

Chapter 3

Since leaving Vishal, I’d had my fair share of what my parents called “culture shock”. But when I got to the war camp, it was somehow worse. Yes, two of the four other squad mates used Hand Signs with me, and there were other Vishali, but it felt weirdly alienating to have everyone else communicating in one way, and then communicating with me in an entirely other way. It felt like I was being left out, even though I could understand Tsaballan pretty well, and could technically speak whenever I wanted. On top of that, some of the other Vishali were… well, full of themselves. They refused to speak out loud at all, and were almost hostile to those of us who did choose to speak aloud at times. It was made even worse by the fact that one of my squad mates made it clear that he hated me simply for being Vishali. The highlight of my day was visiting the cooks. There seemed to be a strange camaraderie among the cooks that I hadn’t seen in other places. People of all different races shared stories as they made food in a hot kitchen.

“Ah, Shinael! Have you come back to steal a bite of food before dinner?” A Hidalni cook asked, winking at me.

‘Who, me? I would never! I just want to make sure the food will satisfy my picky squadmates.’ I signed back, barely remembering that a smile is how you express a joke. Another cook touched my arm to get my attention, I turned to see an Alanaean who had arrived a few weeks before I did. 

‘You taste? Tell how good it is?’ She asked in broken hand sign. I nodded and let her lead me over to a pot where she spooned a thick sludge into a bowl and handed it to me.

‘M-O-N-D-Y-L S-T-E-W’ She signed. I showed her the sign for stew and she nodded.

‘M-O-N-D-Y-L Stew. Alanae cooking.’ I lifted the bowl and ate some, letting it sit in my mouth for a moment to take in the flavor. I thinned my lips at her.

‘It’s very good! What is the spice you used?’ We talked for a while more about the ingredients, many of them native to the northern countries. I left her to her stew and wandered through the kitchen again until I found Coit, a Vishali cook I knew from back home. 

‘Hello Shinael. Have you considered my offer?’ They asked. 

‘I appreciate it, Coit, I do. But my place is with Squadron 13. I can alter a meal to make it taste better, but I am no special cook. I best serve as a spy.’ Coit nodded

‘I understand. Just know that we will always welcome you should you choose to join the cooks. We’re always in need of a taste tester.’ I nodded and we sat in silence for a moment.

‘My shift is nearly done. Maybe you can help me with this last batch of Jrenish and then we can wander around and find something to do?’ They asked. I accepted and walked over to the ovens with them where they pulled out a pot of what I assumed was Jrenish. 

Wandering around turned out to be a very good idea. Though I’d been here for at least three days now, I hadn’t had the opportunity to explore. Coit had been here a few weeks before I had, so they’d been around a few times. They informed me on some of the things I hadn’t been keeping up on. People regularly get mail from people back home, but no one tells you, you just have to go check at the kiosk next to the front gate. There’s a small train station a little to the south that takes you to and from the nearest town, Tsashen, but it’s a little expensive. As we walked, Coit waved at several people, mostly Vishali spies I trained with and other cooks I’d seen around. 

‘You’ve really made a lot of friends here.’ I commented. They thinned their lips at me

‘Yeah. It’s strange how much a war like this brings people together. Especially people in specific communities, like the cooks and’ they stopped signing to gesture to those training in the pit as we passed, ‘believe it or not, the soldiers.’ It was after training time, so anyone training at this point did so because they wanted to, not because their schedule demanded it. I thought back to Talyn and how, though he wasn’t really nice, he was more respectful towards Ta’eel and Kishan than to others. Kishan, because they’re squad captain, Ta’eel because she proved herself to him in beating him in a fight the first day they arrived. 

‘I think I can believe that. Even in Vishal, little communities were always pretty tight. I had a few friends who never missed a meeting in their respective clubs. I guess it would make sense for that to extend to other cultures too.’ Coit nodded and then looked at me with a strange expression.

‘You know…’ they paused and stopped walking to look around at the cabins on this side of the camp, ‘other races aren’t that much different from us. Each person is an individual with their own capabilities and aspirations. Just because one is Fijari and one is Vishali doesn’t mean they can’t get along, nor does it mean they’re so different from each other.’ They nodded at Talyn who was talking with Fijari twins and their Tsaballan Squad Captain I’d previously met. Talyn never really expressed joy that I saw, but he looked as close to happy as I’d seen him so far, sitting around their campfire speaking in Fijari which the Tsaballan had apparently learned some of. Coit knew of my complaints, specifically those about Talyn.

‘But what if… the Fijari doesn’t see it that way?’ I asked. Coit shrugged.

‘Then that is their problem. If the Vishali wants to put in the effort, they might try reaching the Fijari in a way the Fijari will respond to and work from there.’ Coit thinned their lips slyly at me.

‘Inter-race communication can be difficult when you’re raised to believe it is. But no culture is too different to find common ground between individuals.’ They left me there, still considering their words before I even realized they were gone.

I say this all the time to my friends. The main "offender" is from straight up Texas, so like- it's really hard for her to use they or he instead of she when she knew me for a solid year as my deadname and she. (This is the second year we've known each other and she has never deadnamed me) She feels really bad whenever she misgenders me, but I always tell her that I appreciate just that she's trying. Same with my sister and brother in law. Stepsister met me at 4 years old and has known me as she since then, but she's trying and so is her husband. Both of them also grew up in Texas (though stepsis did live with us sometimes, most mostly with her mom) so, I get it, it's hard. To everyone who's trying to gender their trans loved ones correctly, but do mess up, I appreciate you. Just because you mess up doesn't mean you aren't trying. And you prove that you're trying because you are making progress, and you do correct yourself. It's difficult to change a view you've had your whole life, but the fact that you're doing it because you support us means the world to me, and I know it means the world to others too. Thank you.

didn't wanna derail the last post with it but in general most trans people don't give a shit about minor mistakes. you can slip up and use the wrong pronouns or a gendered term and go "oh my bad" and 99% of the time that's where the problem begins and ends. no one is out there screaming "did you just assume my gender?!" because, like, yea. you probably did. shit happens. it's when you make a massive deal out of it, kick your heels and insist that actually "dude" is completely gender neutral or you're trying your best so everyone should just shut up ect ect that things become a problem. but every single person who does the latter insists it was the former and that everyone is making a big fuss about a mistake when in reality they've misgendered someone 10 times in a row and made no attempt to correct themself.

Fury of Nations - Chapter 1

Chapter 1 of my current wip. Title is likely going to change, but it's what I have for now. Enjoy the first chapter :)

Chapter 1

I looked up from the book in front of me as the door to the train cabin opened. The Tashikan woman who'd been assisting me on my journey thus far bustled in and glanced around the room, tipping her head to me, a Tsaballan gesture of greeting.

"Hi! I just wanted to let you know that we'll be arriving at the war camps in about an hour si… or uh, miss?" The poor woman tripped on her words as her eyes found my changed hair color and, most notably, the fact that I now had breasts. Alanaeans have the unique trait of being able to switch their sex at any time they choose. Being genderfluid, my sex tended to switch on its own in accordance with my current gender identity. When I boarded the train in Northern Fijarin, I was male. It seemed that while I'd been reading, my sex had changed to female without me noticing. This, among many reasons, was why the other nations didn't tend to like Alanaeans very much. I nodded in response.

"Um, yes, well…" 

"Thank you ma'am, I appreciate the heads up." I said, thinning my lips at her in thanks. She looked worried for a moment, as if she'd done something wrong. Seven Rivers, of course! I'd done all this research but immediately forgot it when I tried to implement it. I changed my expression to a smile, an expression that felt entirely odd on my face and she returned my smile. She walked out of the cabin and I set to work tidying up the papers and books that had been strewn across the cabin for the past two weeks. Once that was done and my things were stacked against the wall in neat piles, I sat on the small bed under the window and looked out. Everything looked so odd. I was used to the high, snowy, mountain peaks of Alanae that broke up the sky and obstructed your view of the outside world. But here in Southern Tsabal, there was nothing but fields and the occasional orchard. The highest point were some hills in the distance, but otherwise you could practically see for miles. Once the orchards petered out, and the fields were replaced by yellowing grass and green but stumpy bushes, I knew we were nearly there. I let my mind wander and it wasn't long before a feminine Tsaballan voice came over the intercom. 

"Hello passengers, we are now arriving at the war camp, anyone wanting to get off, please take all your bags with you to the station. There, someone will be able to give you directions to the camp. We hope you've enjoyed your stay with us and thank you for your contribution." The message repeated a few times as I picked up my luggage and put the rest on a cart the Tashikan assistant had dropped off a little earlier. When the train fully stopped, I rolled the cart out onto the station and unloaded. I hadn't yet put the last box on the ground when a Dalenatan man came up to me. He was the one who had helped me on the train in Northern Fijarin and even though I didn't know his name, I quite liked him. He picked up other cultures quickly, a rare trait for anyone on Elat. 

"Do you need any help, miss?" He asked, gesturing to my bags.

"Ah, yes please." He nodded and walked away. A few moments later, he came back with a floating slab of stone that we simply called a Platform. They were a Vishali invention, the mechanics of which I hadn't been able to figure out. After he helped me load my things onto the Platform, he pointed towards the end of the train station.

"There is a road. No turns off the road and you will reach the war camps." I thanked the man as he walked away to find someone else to help. 

Setting off down the road with around 15 others, I marveled at the world around me. Of course I had seen the land from the train and the sky from home, but I'd never seen the stark contrast of the blue sky meeting the horizon. The only time I'd been outside Alanae, I was small and distracted from the cloud covered sky by the people around me. Here, I had less distractions so I couldn't help but stare in awe at the cloudless sky. The sun was just starting to set to the north, so the reds, yellows, and oranges of sunset were just beginning to tinge the blue hue of the sky. I could see the occasional bright star dotting the sky in the south.

After about twenty minutes of walking, we reached the war camp. The wall surrounding it was lower than I was expecting and I couldn’t help but examine it and the people inside as I passed through the main gate. I almost didn’t hear the Tsaballan calling out to me as I surveyed the people smiling and laughing around me. Despite the obvious culture shift, the expressions of glee and happiness that meant entirely different things back home, I couldn’t help but think that these people didn’t seem so different from my own. 

“Hey! You can’t be here, this is for soldiers only, not some tourist attraction.” I turned to see a very irritated Tsaballan namale standing behind me, hands on their hips. I glanced around me, realizing I was the only one who had been stopped. It took me a moment to speak.

“But I am a soldier. I have come to fight in the war.” Their eyes narrowed at me

“You’re Alanaean?” As if it weren’t obvious by the purple hue of my skin? I suppressed a sigh and nodded. They retreated into a door in the wall and came back out with a flat sheet of plastic, a Tsaballan invention called a Tablet.

“Name?” They asked with barely concealed anger. Why was this person so angry with me? Had I already done something wrong?

“Kishan. K-I-S-H-A-N” They stopped tapping on their Tablet and looked up at me, unsure. Barely a month outside Alanae and I had already learned what that expression meant. I pronounced one of the letters wrong. Silently cursing my accent, I repeated the spelling with as little accent as I could and this time, they nodded to themself and typed in my name.

“Huh. Well, welcome then, soldier.” They glared at me and then sighed

“You’ll have been given directions to the main tent where you can then get information, but I can give it to you now because I pulled you up in the file. You’re in Squadron Thirteen.” They gave me directions to a cluster of cabins on the other end of the war camp and then turned on their heels with a huff and left. 

I wandered over to my squadron suppressing a shudder at the unholy number. Oh, stop it Kishan. That’s just superstition. Only the Kinanans are crazy enough to believe in things like unholy numbers. When I arrived, the sun had set a little more and there were already two others sitting by a fire pit. The first one I noticed was trying to get a fire going, but she paused when she saw me walking towards them. A huge smile lit her face and she stood up, walking over to me and sticking her fist out. This gesture surprised me as the woman was Tashikan and bumping fists with someone as a gesture of greeting was a distinctly Alanaean thing to do. I returned her greeting and  she introduced herself.

“Hi! I'm Ta'eel, she/her, and I'm from Tashik if ya couldn’t tell!" Her voice was bright and had a heavy Tashikan accent to it despite how fast she talked. I tried not to react outwardly, but something about her felt... utterly wrong. She looked friendly enough, and she seemed genuinely excited, but… maybe it was still the squadron number that had me on edge.

 "I am Kishan. I am genderfluid, but I am a girl right now. If you pay attention, you will see that my hair color changes with my sex, so you always know what my sex is. Since it can change, it nearly always aligns with my gender." I responded. We sat down and I turned my attention to the other person sitting down as Ta’eel returned to lighting a fire. He didn’t say anything, though he must have heard me, he just sat there sharpening a sword. 

“Oh, that’s Talyn. He ain’t much for conversation, although that might be because he’s Fijari.” I tilted my head in acknowledgement absentmindedly as I turned from Talyn and surveyed the semicircle of cabins surrounding us and the circle of stones that now had a fire cheerfully crackling inside. 

“I don’t think the cabins are assigned, so feel free to take any of the ones with doors open.” 

“Thank you. I am going to set up my things so the Tsaballans can have their Platform back. I will come back once that is done.” She nodded at me and I headed over to a cabin at the end of the circle and across from the two cabins Talyn and Ta’eel had claimed. Inside were two rooms. One with a simple bed and dresser, and the main room furnished only with a desk and a bookshelf. There was plenty of space for more furniture and I was already planning to get a bigger desk and potentially some more shelves sometime soon. For now, I set my things on the floor in the middle of the main room and walked the Platform back to the main gate where a different Tsaballan namale took it. Returning to the others, I saw no one else had joined us, but Talyn had moved on to sharpening a pretty set of daggers, the sword presumably put away. I had promised myself I would try not to judge others based on race, but seriously, this man was doing the most stereotypical thing he could do for a Fijari. A few moments of uncomfortable silence, then,

“So did ya get to do any sightseeing before ya came to the war camp?” Ta’eel asked me.

“No, I boarded a train in Fijre’an, Fijarin and only got off at the station here. I did see sights from the train windows, but I did not get off the train for fear it would leave me behind.” Ta’eel nodded in understanding, honestly, how many kinds of nods did these people have and how did they seemingly easily distinguish between them?

“We gotta get you out, if not to the other cities, then at least to some of Tsashen. They have some really pretty sights here.” 

“That would be nice, if they can spare us for a day.” Another several moments of silence.

“I apologize, I am not much for conversation. I am still learning Tsaballan, it may take me a while.” Ta’eel shrugged, a southern gesture, and said

“That’s alright, I speak Alanaean.” I started at that. None but the most stupid traders came into the Alanaean mountains and few of us left, which was why we were considered so mysterious, so speaking Alanaean outside of Alanae was really just a party trick. A time consuming one at that.

“You do?” I asked, switching to my home language.

“I do! It’s one of my talents.” Again, I noticed her seemingly near mastery of the language despite the heavy accent. Strange woman.

“Hey! Fijari or Tsaballan only. I’d like to be able to understand you freaks.” Talyn said suddenly. His voice was rough and low, almost more of a growl than a real voice. I raised an eyebrow at him and Ta’eel smiled at him

“If you’d prefer that, then we can do that. Ain’t no point in it though if you ain’t gonna talk back to us.” He let out an angry sound and stood up, taking his things with him and stomping into his cabin, muttering something about stupid Tashikans.

“It is rare to see a Fijari walking away rather than starting a fight. From what I have heard at least.” I said, pondering the door he had slammed.

“It’s because he knows he can’t beat me in a fight. He tried earlier and I won. We also both got in a bit of trouble for it.” I whipped my head around to stare at the woman in disbelief. I knew she wasn’t lying, I could always tell when someone lied to me, but how in Oblivion did the not quite 5 foot Tashikan beat the 6 foot Fijari in a fight? She smiled winningly at me.

“Surprised? So was he. Actually, everyone was. It’s always quite hilarious when I beat someone in a fight. We Tashikan’s aren’t known for our battle prowess like the Fijari are.” I didn’t know what to say. Fijari were fierce warriors, known to start and win fights frequently. It was said that sometimes they got carried away and actually killed people sometimes. Tashikan’s weren’t pacifists like the Dalenatans were, but they were known for the delicious food they made, not their fighting skills. We stared at each other for a moment more before she pointed to the book I had brought out with me.

“What’s that about?” She asked and I held it up for her to read the title by the firelight.

“Studying the ocean around the Matanal Islands? What for?” I realized my error as she read the title and cursed my idiocy. 

“Ah, the Islands have piqued my interest recently. I have a hobby of researching things. I want to travel around and I would like to know some things before I go there.” That was laced with some truth, which was the best way to lie.

“Smart! I love traveling too. You’d be surprised at what hidden gems you can find just wandering around a town though. Don’t just go to places mentioned in books you read.” A good piece of advice. I wondered if I could get the locals of Tsashen to show me around at some point. Whenever traders came into my hometown in Alanae, I had always wanted to show them all the best parts of my home. And of course, we made sure to give anyone who came to Alanae a map of the best routes out of the mountains for their journey home. The mountains were treacherous and killed more than half of the foreigners that traversed them. They had even nearly killed me several times and I had gone adventuring in them with my father hundreds of times. Ta’eel pulled out a book of her own and a pencil, which she began to draw in the book with. A while later, while the sun was just leaving the last traces of color in the sky, Ta’eel looked up and jumped a little as I turned around to see what looked like a Vishali namale standing behind me. They gave a strange smile, obviously not used to the gesture, and walked around me to the seat Talyn had been sitting in. 

‘Hello. I’m Shinael, S-H-I-N-A-E-L, They/Them. I’m Vishali and still learning Tsaballan as well as learning to be more comfortable with speaking aloud. Please be patient with me.’ They signed. Vishali Hand Signs was the language I’d learned alongside Tsaballan, and despite the slightly complicated nature of it, I had picked up on it rather quickly. I was less surprised to see Ta’eel signing her introduction, and introducing Talyn who hadn’t come back out of the cabin. I then introduced myself in sign.

‘I am called K-I-S-H-A-N. I am Alanaean and a gender-shifter. My sex changes with my gender and my hair color changes too. Where are your things?’ I asked, gesturing around them.

‘I have already claimed a cabin and put them away. I didn't mean to startle you T-A-’-E-E-L, but I didn’t know if it was alright for me to sit. I know little of Tashikan and Alanaean cultures.’ 

‘All is well Shinael. You move very quietly, are you working as a spy?’ Ta’eel responded. The conversation went on like this until I dipped out to read my book some more. The fire was warm and it was just enough light to read by. I got about seven more pages in when I heard someone else come up behind me and turned around. This person introduced himself as Dilan, a Tsaballan man who had been late to join the war, but wanted to contribute in any way he could. Shinael excused themself to go to bed after introductions had ben made - it turned out Dilan didn’t know Vishali sign, though he promised to learn, so Ta’eel and I translated for him - and I followed shortly after. It had been a good day, all said, and I was curious for what tomorrow would bring.

Previous Chapter: None

Chapter One: You're Here!

Next Chapter: 2

so rude how I have to actually write this story down. like why can't it just appear, even as a rough draft in my google docs one day, huh? is that so much to ask of the world? I love this story but, gah, sometimes it's stupidly difficult to find a way to finish a chapter, or to transition to the next part of the chapter and whatnot.

hehehehe, finding ways to sneak my mythology into my stories when I can't figure out how to finish a chapter. I'm sure at some point, I'll find ways to connect the mythology I mix into the story to the character who's pov I'm writing in at the time, but for now, it's just me being really excited about the mythology I made

Fury of Nations - Chapter Four

Previous Chapter: 3

Chapter One: 1

Next Chapter: 5

Chapter 4

“For Fijar’s sake, Dilan!” I turned to see Talyn yelling at Dilan again. The two of them really needed to be able to train together sometimes, but every time I left them unattended, Talyn ended up yelling at Dilan for something or other. 

“I cannot work with you, you are a dreadful fighter.” He continued. Dilan didn’t respond, he just stood there staring at Talyn as if he could see into his soul. I’d been on the receiving end of one of those stares and it was genuinely unsettling. Talyn stood glaring at Dilan and I hoped he’d give it up for a minute, but instead he just continued to berate him. I sighed and left Ta’eel to walk over.

“Stop it, both of you!” I commanded when I reached them. Dilan looked at me with a startled expression and Talyn turned his glare on me, but didn’t say anything,

“Talyn, Dilan is not a dreadful fighter, he is a good fighter. He just does not meet your expectations because they are excessively high. Dilan,” I turned to face him, “You really need to stop just staring at people when they pick a fight with you. It only makes them angrier and unless you are staring down a… a Hidalni or something, you are not menacing enough to keep them from messing with you further.” I stared down at the both of them disapprovingly. 

“Why do not you both take a break. Ta’eel?” I called over my shoulder at the Tashikan who I had now seen fight first hand, “why do not you train Dilan when he is ready? Talyn, how are your long-range skills?” I asked. He gave me a look.

“How do you think? Top marks, just like close-range combat.”

“Perfect, then you can teach me how to better my aim in throwing knives and axes when you are done with your break. If Shinael is back, you can teach the both of us, or maybe I will send them in to train with Ta’eel and Dilan, we will see what they are up to.” Talyn nodded and walked over to go get water.

“Dilan? I said it before, but you really do have to get the staring under control. Everyone communicates in different ways, but there are some ways that just are not good.” He nodded at me and sighed.

“I know. It’s been a problem my whole life. I don’t really know what else to do though.” I paused, wondering if an offer from me would be too strange.

“Maybe… If you want to sometime, I can teach you some basics? I am not a master communicator myself, but I can give you pointers on some of the more obvious things you do.” He smiled at me and nodded.

“Sure. At this point, I think anything’ll help.” He laughed and wandered over to get some water. Ta’eel bumped my elbow with hers and winked at me as she passed. Other cultures non-verbal communications will always be a mystery. Was it simply a playful wink that meant ‘hello my friend’, or was she teasing me about something? I hadn’t studied Tashikan body language yet, but maybe I should do that tonight. I had another trip to the library scheduled tonight so I could return some of the books I’d borrowed. Perhaps I’d bring Dilan with me. He did mention something about mythology books. I’d be interested to hear his favorite myths and perhaps start with those. 

I sighed as Ta’eel gave me a smile I could tell was forced for the umpteenth time. Since Kishan and Talyn had left to practice at the ranges, Ta’eel had been training me. She was so much more patient than Talyn was, but I just wasn’t getting it like I knew she wanted me to. She paused and looked up at the sky.

“It’s getting late and most people have left. If you want to continue we can, but I don’t know that more training right now is going to help. You’re good, but I can tell you’re frustrated now and training while angry doesn’t help you learn.” I nodded and she made is if to walk away but then paused, blinked a few times, and then continued towards the weapons rack to put her borrowed sword away. I narrowed my eyes at her slightly, trying to discern what that might have been. I have the ability to see what I call ‘aura’s’. They tell me a lot about a person, including their race, sense of purpose in life, gender, and current emotion. However, Ta’eel’s aura was strange. Her emotions, which are usually arranged in categories at a person’s head, shoulders and stomach, seemed all mixed up. Sometimes happiness would show in her head, then her left shoulder. Sometimes anger and happiness might show in the exact same place. On top of that her aura was a strange color that I hadn’t seen before. Tashikan auras were usually a teal/cyan color, depending on their sense of purpose in life. But Ta’eel’s was mostly black, with occasional swirls of dark blue. In moments like that, where she seemed slightly out of focus, the blue swirls would overwhelm the black for a flash of a moment before retreating entirely for a little. I didn’t know what it meant, but to be honest, it scared me a little. Kishan and Talyn walked towards us, evidently of the same mind as we were.

“Time to go start a campfire, the sky’s getting dark. Shinael showed up a little while ago, but they were tired from specialized training, so I sent them back to camp to rest.” Kishan said. Ta’eel and Kishan ascended the stairs chatting about various things while Talyn packed up his personal weapons. I hesitated for a moment, wanting to say something, but I didn’t know what I should say. After a second or two, I headed up the stairs too. I was about halfway up when Talyn shouldered past me, but then shook his head and stumbled back, nearly falling.

“Talyn? Are you alright?” I asked, worried he might have tripped. He looked wildly alarmed and stared at me blankly before shaking his head again and shoving my shoulder aside.

“I’m fine.” He growled. He didn’t seem ‘fine’ to me, but I knew better than to contradict him. I’d tell Kishan about it later and they could talk to him about it. A worry flickered in the back of my mind. An old memory about a boy I liked when I was much younger. The first and last time he kissed me, he had gotten a glimpse of my power. That was the last time he talked to me. Had that happened with Talyn just now, did his hand brush mine as he walked past me? Most people weren’t able to see what I did just by touching me and I didn’t understand why some could. I pushed that aside for now, I couldn’t afford to worry about that too. I walked up the stairs and caught up with Kishan and Ta’eel. Walking to the cabin circle, Talyn had apparently shut himself in his cabin already, having speed walked back and Shinael had a fire going.

‘__ __ alright?’ Shinael asked. I only recognized the last sign they made and I let Kishan answer, assuming Shinael was inquiring about Talyn. Kishan and Shinael talked in sign for a little before Ta’eel settled down by the fire and kicked her feet up on what would have been Talyn’s chair.

“Does anyone want to go get food for the lot of us? I can if no one else wants to, or we can all serve ourselves, either way works for me.” She said. Shinael offered to go get some food for us and they came back with five plates.

“I am to go give Talyn his food. Although acting strange, Talyn needs food.” They said over their shoulder as they walked away. I’d been startled the first time I heard them speak. They were only a little shorter than Talyn, and however slimly built, I still wasn’t expecting a soft, high pitched voice from them. Apparently all Vishali had higher pitched voices, and most were soft spoken whenever they chose to speak out loud, but it still felt a little strange. 

“Alright. If he attacks you, yell for help. No point in trying to save an ego.” Ta’eel joked. Shinael didn’t respond and I sat back and watched the fire as I ate. Eventually, Kishan stood up, explaining that they were going to the library to return a few books. There was an odd pause before they left where it seemed as if they wanted to say something, but they didn’t. I let myself watch them walk away, shame and disappointment glimmering in the section at their right shoulder.