The Tryker torch crackled through the apartment, while the other 3 were extinguished, leaving just enough light to see the objects, the furniture and the children's eyes. Normally, you'd think it was a quiet winter's evening, with a Tryker and a Zorai looking after their miniatures... but something wasn't quite right.
The pressure of the water acting on the large underwater glass pane of the Tryker dwelling let us hear a silence... we could hear and identify a silence coming from the lakes of freedom. A slight gurgle could be heard, accompanied by a dozen or so bubbles rising along the decorative glass to its destination... the surface of the lakes.
Besides... the surface... I hadn't seen it for a few weeks. Was it that I missed it the most? or exchanging a few reassuring words with my wife? because yes, it had been weeks since we'd locked ourselves in the apartment to devote ourselves solely to the children.
As for Maya'kan and Saya'kan, they hadn't asked for anything, which was probably why we'd refrained from explaining ourselves openly to them. Naturally, we took turns looking after the little ones, changing them, feeding them, feeding ourselves... and sleeping.
It's said that children are sponges for the feelings, atmospheres and emotions around them, yet their naivety gave nothing away. They were growing up so fast. I could see it, and commander that I was, faced with a tribe of marauders, I would have had, even if I'd run out of ideas, words to motivate, enchant and encourage my troops. But here... The silence...
...
Occasionally, a grimace from Maya or a burlesque stunt from Saya would let out a laugh from the mother, who would then turn to me, leaving a knowing look hanging in the air for half a second before pulling herself together and hiding her mask in a new silence...
...
a heavy silence...
...
I was dying to take Ylang'Hao in my arms. Even without a word, the exercise Yokao had imposed on us to avoid the self-destruction of our couple had become familiar, but the lack of contact, even if only visual... pierced my heart so painfully that no mandible could match...
I could see it... his mask... as crimson as ever. The mark had stopped progressing, but it hadn't disappeared. All my natural confidence, all the comforting certainties I could tell him were gone.
What if there was nothing I could do for her? The Drakan could sometimes open her eyes to certain things, but right now... I was out of ideas, arguments and weapons to fight the evil I'd identified for her, that of not living freely.
So for as long as I didn't know what to do, I let it speak for itself, this silence... always hoping that it would be interrupted by a reflexive laugh at some foolishness of the young innocents.
...
Until I went out for the Guild meeting I'd been announcing for several months. A vague wave of the hand to say goodbye, or see you later, didn't encourage me much.
But now it was time to go up and join the Drakani...
The pressure of the water acting on the large underwater glass pane of the Tryker dwelling let us hear a silence... we could hear and identify a silence coming from the lakes of freedom. A slight gurgle could be heard, accompanied by a dozen or so bubbles rising along the decorative glass to its destination... the surface of the lakes.
Besides... the surface... I hadn't seen it for a few weeks. Was it that I missed it the most? or exchanging a few reassuring words with my wife? because yes, it had been weeks since we'd locked ourselves in the apartment to devote ourselves solely to the children.
As for Maya'kan and Saya'kan, they hadn't asked for anything, which was probably why we'd refrained from explaining ourselves openly to them. Naturally, we took turns looking after the little ones, changing them, feeding them, feeding ourselves... and sleeping.
It's said that children are sponges for the feelings, atmospheres and emotions around them, yet their naivety gave nothing away. They were growing up so fast. I could see it, and commander that I was, faced with a tribe of marauders, I would have had, even if I'd run out of ideas, words to motivate, enchant and encourage my troops. But here... The silence...
...
Occasionally, a grimace from Maya or a burlesque stunt from Saya would let out a laugh from the mother, who would then turn to me, leaving a knowing look hanging in the air for half a second before pulling herself together and hiding her mask in a new silence...
...
a heavy silence...
...
I was dying to take Ylang'Hao in my arms. Even without a word, the exercise Yokao had imposed on us to avoid the self-destruction of our couple had become familiar, but the lack of contact, even if only visual... pierced my heart so painfully that no mandible could match...
I could see it... his mask... as crimson as ever. The mark had stopped progressing, but it hadn't disappeared. All my natural confidence, all the comforting certainties I could tell him were gone.
What if there was nothing I could do for her? The Drakan could sometimes open her eyes to certain things, but right now... I was out of ideas, arguments and weapons to fight the evil I'd identified for her, that of not living freely.
So for as long as I didn't know what to do, I let it speak for itself, this silence... always hoping that it would be interrupted by a reflexive laugh at some foolishness of the young innocents.
...
Until I went out for the Guild meeting I'd been announcing for several months. A vague wave of the hand to say goodbye, or see you later, didn't encourage me much.
But now it was time to go up and join the Drakani...
---
Jazzy Mac'PlanteyChef de Bai Nhori Drakani
Commandant de Bai Trykali
Citoyen célèbre