Jaysehn (prime)/Reflections/A Pair to Match

Settled comfortably within the nakaten strapped to the the lean and muscular frame of his yierka, Jaysehn let the creature's body-bending movements pull him along as he loosely held the harness reins in his hands. Zome knew where home was and didn't need to be guided there. For his own part, Jaysehn couldn't care at the moment where the beast was taking him. His mind was awash in a sea of emotions. Anger. Joy. Shame. And a curious desire for....vengeance.

That last one felt wrong, like it came from something outside of himself. He found his hand drifting over his henna-hued shroud which was wrapped, scarf like, around his neck and forced himself to think on what mattered.

The ankle-boot in his bag. Waterlogged. Finely made suede. A match. An exact match.

The boot's partner washed up on the deck of the Onyx Eclipse while on one of Akenna's many, many sailings to scour the Lazuli for any sign of Lady Sayilla. Others had told her she was wasting her time. That the woman was dead. Jaysehn never told his wife that he agreed with those voices. But she was in grief for the loss and had felt responsible for her failure to convince Sayilla to leave the West before something happened. When Fate had deposited the first boot on their deck in that storm, they had sought the aid of Omiko, the wise woman of Caligos, favored of the Seamaiden and the Stormfather. Her aid bore fruit in the form of visions that showed Sayilla, sinking to her doom below the black depths of Charl's realm. Akenna had turned the badly damaged boot over to Ysaeril of the court of Ta'Illistim. His wife had intended that the boot make its way back to the Javilerre family so they might have at least something of their lost scion.

Uncaring about such difficult thoughts, Zome decided to make an aggressive snap at a passing wharf rat, catching the thing by the tail and tossing it up into its gullet with a single bite. Jaysehn didn't notice.

His mind instead was on the hooded figure that had been a source of mystery in Vornavis for some months. He had thought little of the talk of an 'Aldoran stonetender' having come to visit the ailing Baron and the dying Steward. He was not surprised when such a wisewoman produced treatments that saved the Steward and stabilized Baron Malwind. He had lived in Aldora for years and trained with the Southern Order of Voln. The countryside and people of Aldora were known to him. Every competent Hunter of the dead knew never to dismiss local mystics or the mastery of their lore.

But tonight...as the recovering Steward entered the chambers where they had all gathered after their adventures through the underbelly of the Vornavis, the hooded healer was with her.

And she dropped the boot. A second ankle-boot. A pair to match.

He was not a subtle man and his instincts took hold. Why was this boot here? Why was it not in Illistim? But of course, it was not the same boot his wife had sent East. It was the other half of the pair.

He had questioned the Steward directly. To her credit, she had tried subtlety with him first, then nearly had to threaten him to get the point across.

When the truth of the identity of that slight figure finally settled into his brain, it hit like a sudden tide. But it all made sense. Sayilla was a scholar and a student. She had studied not just the late Duke Chandrennin, but all of his realm of Aldora. Surely, the stonetenders' practice would not have escaped her notice. Of course they could not reveal her...better that she was thought dead. Far better.

He didn't realize he had the ankle-boot in his hand again. He was staring at it. Confirming. Forcing his mind to accept what his eyes saw. Akenna was right. Despite all the doubts, despite all those who had given up or no longer cared....she was right.

Zome passed slowly onto the newly built promenade off Charl's Quay and the sound of a ship's bell in the harbor brought Jaysehn out of his reverie.

He glanced up at the second floor of Commodore Hall, where the light of an office window told him his wife was still working.

A groom came to fetch Zome and put him in his subterranean den. "It's fair, Commodore.", said the young man.

"Hmm?"

"It's as the Lady said, sir. The weather's fair and fit if you need to make sail. The storm passed north. She was right."

Jaysehn smiled to himself and thought, Yes, she was.