we do not bear children until we have so chosen

[dark_light]

Amariah appears in the Belltower, throws herself into a chair, and tries to read postcards, but her eyes won't focus on them. She tries the Bellbook, and scarcely has better luck, although her eyes do catch on a certain word.

"Jane."

"Yep?"

"I want to talk to Aether."

"I'll let her know!"

Comments

[dark_light]

"Prophets? Is there one around?"

[telesonorous]

"Inkeri Saara," says Helen. "One of my friends. She prophesied that you were going to come back, and when. That's when Kas started crying a lot more."

[dark_light]

"Oh, geez."

Next.

[pythbox]

A sheet of paper covered in the words I can't repeated over and over and over and over in decreasingly legible handwriting.

[dark_light]

"And she told him, I take it. I wouldn't have guessed it would make things that much worse..."

[telesonorous]

"I'm not sure why, exactly," says Helen. "I just sort of chalked it up to Kas being peculiar. But I think it was something about hearing it six years in advance, after so long not knowing."

[dark_light]

"I guess I'll have to ask him, if these postcards don't get any more coherent."

Next.

[pythbox]

For about a week, the postcards suffer a total breakdown - occasionally it's just a piece of paper that has been marked up with a pen and then cried on.

After that, it's a lot of incoherent helpless scattered phrases with occasional perfectly lucid reports about Helen's life. He can hold it together talking about Helen, but talking about his feelings leads to things like the page full of I can't and the postcard with a heart-shaped bloodstain blurred by tears.

As time goes on, the proportion of incoherent messages about his feelings decreases.

All of Helen's friends settle before she does; when she gets around to it at last, it's just before her thirteenth birthday and she separates on the first try.

Postcards get sparse after that.

The very last one says, Maybe I'll clean your house again.

[dark_light]

She puts the bag down.

[telesonorous]

"Are you okay?"

[dark_light]

"I've been better." She sighs. "I - guess I'll go home again - are you coming along or getting to know the other Dominiques a bit more?"

[telesonorous]

"...I think I'll stay here for now," she says.

[dark_light]

"Okay."

It has not really been that nice to meet her, so Amariah doesn't say it, but she does smile a little at her - daughter - and tap her Janegem.

And here she is in her basement again.

[truthwright]

Someone is crying in the living room.

[dark_light]

Amariah goes up.

[truthwright]

It is Kas. Kas is the person who is crying.

[dark_light]

What a surprise.

Amariah goes and sits next to him.

[truthwright]

Petaal is wrapped up in his arms as a viscacha.

He curls up a tiny bit closer to Amariah, and sniffles, and doesn't say anything.

[dark_light]

She leans her head on his shoulder.



Path leans over and nudges his beak a little against Kas's chin.

[truthwright]

Kas shudders, and pets Path's feathers, and Petaal squirms out of his lap and turns into a human and hugs Amariah.

[dark_light]

Hugs.

[truthwright]

Hugs.

"I love you," he mumbles.

[dark_light]

"I love you too, sweetie."

[truthwright]

"Are... are we okay?"

[dark_light]

"We will be."