Charakter

“Did you really think it was goodbye?” Marcus Aldier quirked a brow, looking over the rim of his tea cup.

Kiri pursed her lips, fighting a smile. She set her cup on the table and let her gaze wander toward the horizon. Raindrops sprinkled the sand in front of them and out to the ocean beyond. The sky was grey, and the wind was picking up. They sat across from each other on cushions adorning the single table in the pavilion—the same pavilion where Kiri had been weaving so long ago.

“Maybe we should head inside,” he suggested.

“Or maybe we should go for a walk,” she countered. Kiri loved the rain—the smells it spread through the air, the pitter-patter against the roof, the feel of it on her skin. “This weather is perfect.” She took another sip of green tea—her second favorite, after vanilla chai. “Although, this is nothing compared to the rains in Thanalan. Those are my favorite things in the world. They’re rare. They come suddenly, often without warning, and pour down in sheets. And then they disappear, as quickly as they came. They usually only last a few minutes.” She smiled wistfully. “They remind me of the rains back home. I don’t think I love them just because of nostalgia, though. I think they’re beautiful because they’re so rare—like cherry blossoms. I--” She looked down at her cup, embarrassed. “I’ve never seen cherry blossoms, but I hear they only bloom two weeks out of the year, and that that’s what makes them such a beautiful sight.” Marcus had expressed a desire to get to know her better, so she found herself rambling on in an attempt at candidness.

“People do come from all over the world to see them,” he agreed, smiling at her. “I’m sure they wouldn’t be such an attraction if they blossomed all year.” He set down his cup, watched her for a moment. “So,” he began, but hesitated.

“Hmm?” She looked up at him again, eyes wide with curiosity.

“So,” he began again: “What are you going to do now? Now that that pirate business is behind us, I mean.”

“Well,” she started, then bit her lip. “I was thinking I might take up healing.”

His laughter startled her. Her expression was almost hurt.

“I’m sorry,” he said. “I just didn’t expect that. When I met you, you were tanking. That’s the most masculine job there is—and healing is, well, stereotypically feminine. I’d have thought you’d be fundamentally against it.”

She smiled a small smile, ran a finger along the rim of her cup.

“Honestly, in my youth I would have been. The young me wanted to be tough. I wanted to prove that a woman could do anything that a man could do.”

“Are you sure you aren't interested in women?” He covered his mouth to hide his laughter.

She leveled a look on him, smirked: “I’m positive. I’m very interested in—in your gender.”

“So what happened?”

“Life. I married someone older than I was, someone who was well along his career path. I was just beginning my adult life and couldn’t make enough to support the lifestyle he wanted, so I ended up staying home with our children. It was the only thing that made financial sense. If I worked it would barely cover the cost of childcare, and because of that he thought my wanting to work was selfish—just something to ‘get me out of the house.’ After years of staying home raising children, I figured I’d lost the right to call myself a feminist.” She shook her head, laughed at herself. “Listen to me, prattling on about my past again. That's not even related to healing, or why I didn’t want to do it. I guess old habits die hard.” She sighed, tried again: “for years, I was asked to heal. I always wanted to do something else, to fight, but every group I was with asked me to heal. And I liked job security. But once I got out of the game, I promised myself I’d never heal again.”

“So why the change of heart?”

“I’m trying to develop a new philosophy on life in light of my illness and everything that’s gone along with it. I think that if I learn humility I’ll be happier. I think most of my suffering in previous years was due to pride, and the shame that being prideful bred. If I learn to serve others, maybe I’ll learn how to shake that pride and I’ll find happiness. Besides, healing is more difficult than punching things. I miss being challenged. Doing things well always brought me joy. I’d like to find that again.”

Darkness had begun to fall around them, and Marcus would have to go. He had obligations elsewhere, would always have obligations elsewhere, but he’d promised to give her his attentions when he could. She did take comfort in that, but emotions stirred inside her that made her uncomfortable. She wasn’t sure what she thought of this arrangement, and since an answer wasn't forthcoming she assumed only time would tell.