Abarak 8The all three had dinner together. Aiden didn't recognise most of the food laid on the table. There were fruits and berries he couldn't name, meat from animals he had never seen. Recalling the dining etiquette he had been taught, he managed. Aiden's mother had rested her eyes on him, but turned them back on the stranger. "So, how is it?" She asked him, and he shrugged. He was on an edge, a thought peeked at the corner of Aiden's mind. No longer a child, not quite a man."The same. Pirates at the eastern sea. Dismay to the new emperor. They won't rebel. Some famine in the east end. Orcs on the fringes." Aiden didn't know what orcs were. He'd heard they were people of the plains, nomads of some sort, whose arrow could kill a man with one shot. It was really hard to kill a man with an arrow. He could ask that Vernas, and he would surely know, but Aiden didn't want to give him the pleasure.Harom was unpacking things in Aiden's room. The task was practically meaningless, the Lady had alrea
WordsmithWhy do you speak of springYou child of wind and frostWhy of the scents of flowersYour lungs are full of ashWhy of the softness of grassYou don't have any fingersWhy of the rays of sunlightYour skin has never feltWhy of the singing of birdsFor you are deaf as stoneWhy do you speak of beautyWhen you have no tongue?