Antrisse - The Farmer

Ni be’chaaj’taabir

‘We will dance together eternal,’
‘Beskar and Beskad’

How many times had those words been said?” Words aloud mix with the crunching of sand beneath heavy iron soles accompanies the din of memories, words and oaths.

I’m alone now in these sands, deep into the dunes searching for… something. An answer perhaps, or perhaps to be one with the ever shifting tides of my home for a time.
It is they who carry the past, yet always move forward after all. A lesson I have need of.

In the silence of these days all I hear is her words, the dances we had, from the first where a Ori’kad led to promises and realizations. To the time spent in the evenings perfecting and training. How much of my dwindling sleep I gave for those.

What I would give for one more.

The Suns rise and the dancing rays of a new day bring forth sight of what I looked for. A great storm of sand, countless kilometers across, dominating all I could see. Sand continues to shift under my feet as I march towards it.

‘I don’t want you to die’
Her voice echoes once more as I look down to the small dagger clutched in my left hand. Worn and old, the only piece of my past I own, of Eshan. One I had never wished to hold again.

I remember as clear as the winds picking up in front of me. My own cry as I gave it to her, my wish to not be forgotten. To linger in that token…

‘Ill keep this safe, I swear’
Another oath, more words broken into the shifting sands

I halt in my march now, standing atop the highest crest, kama and hood starting to flutter in the face of what’s rushing towards me.

“I am sorry my love… That you’d so little faith in me.” My words are quickly lost to emptiness around me, the aching emptiness of my soul. I place the dagger into my belt, a weight I will ever notice.

My gaze rises to the skies, the trials, the joys of my past moving in my mind. Things that she had ever been for. When we first became parents with Aelix, when I earned my place in our people. Her extending her hand to Chom’tol, us both with Polkei, Lain, Set’ika…

When we faced our trials of faith, the finding of my name, the building of our home. She was there, she was always there… that din of sparks and forge-works she loves so. Always a companion to my life. How often had I sat there and simply watched her bend metal, our iron, when I could stand no longer.

It was to her I returned too, who I could escape too for those brief moments. It was with her alone I could forget the burdens I carry.

Now that chamber will lay empty, its warmth and purpose stripped.

I will be alone.

I had wished to stand with her, through everything, anything. I thought I could…

As I drop to my knees I pull free my helm, silver hair billowing in the oncoming torrent. It is placed between my knees as I wait.

She found the one thing I could not choose, why? I know her reasons, but… I cannot agree with them. How proud she was, when she shattered my heart, and forced the choice.

Condemn my children to death and reprisal, or cast her out alone.

‘I want to be married, properly’
Dreams now die around me. Am I the betrayer of them, or is she?
Does it matter?

I understand now though, why in all that I saw, I never saw it.

There is no farm waiting for me.
Only the storm.

The bellow of grief and pain mixes with that torrent as it consumes her.

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