Chapter 13: Dionaea (Part 2).
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The room was small, dim, and humid, stone floor sweating from the steam of the bathwater. In the privacy of it all, Dionaea peeled Sameli’s stiff clothes away piece by piece, first the torn emerald tunic, then the rough undershirt, letting them fall in a dusty heap on the floor.
They exhaled when the first splash of warm water touched Sameli’s bare skin, tension melting like a knot finally loosened. They hadn’t realized how tightly they’d been holding themselves.
“Hello!” a voice called from the other side of the wall, tentative but warm. “It’s Danira. I brought some clothes for you. And a towel. They said we’re about the same size.”
“Thank you,” Sameli called back, voice raised to reach her.
“I’ll leave these here. Join us in the mess hall when you’re ready; Jared’s cooking tonight.” She said no more, but her voice sounded excited for the meal.
After she left and Dionaea had used every available drop of warm water in the bucket, Dionaea went to the bed and dressed back up. Danira’s clothes fit well enough; and as they studied Sameli’s reflection in the polished copper mirror, Sameli's lips curved into a smile again. Clean clothes. Freshly dried hair. And no more itching on the skin.
Knock knock.
“Come in.”
It was Sameli 's flesh-aunt Mirai again. “Oh, sweetheart… you look wonderful. Pretty. Just like your grandmother was.” She finished brushing the last strands into place, tied a ponytail, and guided Sameli toward the hall with a caring hand.
Outside, eyes found Sameli the moment she stepped into the hall, curious, hesitant, full of unspoken questions. A miracle-child returned from the sea, Mirai’s niece appearing after so many months of silence. Yet the crowd held their words like breath in their chests, each person politely swallowing the questions they were dying to ask. Dionaea was grateful for their restraint.
“I have to help Sig with something, sweetheart,” Mirai murmured, brushing Sameli’s arm. “But sit with these lovely ladies for now, they’re all mostly around your age.”
She guided her toward a table near the edge of the room where a trio of young women sat eating and conversing on gestures. Among them was Zulanah, the silver-haired Drakvari Sameli had met earlier.
“Zulanah, right?” Sameli said softly.
“That dress fits perfectly!” the redhead in the center declared, confidence radiating from every flick of her hands. Her long hair swayed like a banner, and her freckles brightened with her grin. The voice was immediately recognizable.
“You must be Danira. Thank you for the clothes,” Sameli declared.
Danira bounced slightly where she sat. “Yep! I’m Danira. And this is Elise.” The blonde beside her signed smoothly, fingers moving with fluency. She 's deaf? Dionaea wondered as Elise's hands moved in a language none of their shards was able to comprehend.
Finally, Danira motioned toward the Drakvari worker on her left. “And I suppose Zulanah doesn’t need an introduction.”
Danira and Elise started chatting in quick, fluid signs, their hands moving like birds in flight. Whatever conversation they shared, it stayed locked between the two of them as neither Zulanah or Sameli seemed able to understand. Zulanah watched for a moment before speaking in the language of Auron.
“You look healthier now, after the bath and the change of clothes,” she said.
“Thanks. And… thank you for the bread earlier,” Sameli replied, brushing her fingers over the soft fabric.
“I would’ve offered my clothes,” Zulanah went on, “but I don’t have many clean ones. And, well …” she flashed a grin, “Drakvari clothes have a hole for the tail. Perhaps you’d be displaying a little more than you're intending to.”
Sameli laughed, nearly choking on her drink. Even Dionaea was startled by how spontaneous and sudden the reaction was. “Yeah, that would’ve been… awkward.”
Zulanah’s smile widened.
“Wow, you’re really fluent in Auron’s tongue,” Danira said, staring with genuine surprise.
There was no point hiding it now. Better to lean into the excuse Mirai and Sig had already gifted them. “Yeah! My parents had someone teach me. They insisted a successful merchant should speak many languages.”
“Really?” Danira asked excitedly. We're heading south and might need to learn the language of Oltikán very soon. “Are you familiar with the language?”
“No, I can’t help you with that,” Sameli said, shaking her head. Another lie. Dionaea and therefore every shard they had gathered could speak Oltikan as easily as Auron or Solenya.
Danira seemed to accept the answer. Why wouldn’t she? The story held. But as Sameli glanced left, something in Elise’s eyes made Dionaea’s confidence fracture.
Elise let her gaze rest on Sameli for a beat too long. Then she tugged Danira’s sleeve and signed a question that moved like accusation. Danira tried to dismiss it with a gentle shake of her head, but Elise’s expression didn’t change.
Two lies now. Too close together. And Dionaea feared the deaf girl had noticed.
Did I slip? Did she see it in Samelis' expression? Her body language? The thoughts rattled like stones falling on a pond.
“Fine, I’ll ask her,” Danira said, begrudging but gentle. She turned to Sameli with a hesitant smile. “You don’t have to answer if it makes you uncomfortable.” A beat. A breath. “You’ve seen the Taken, right? What are they like?”
Dionaea should have expected the question, but it still struck like cold water. Worse, Elise’s quiet attention made it feel like a trap. They couldn’t tell the truth. They couldn’t expose themselves. But they needed an answer that wouldn’t make the suspicion grow.
“I’m not feeling very well,” Sameli murmured, rising to her feet and pressing a hand to her lower belly. This time, it wasn’t a lie. Dionaea had rarely felt fear like this. Though they had lost shards before, the thought of losing Sameli was terrifying. Sameli was their window into the single-sharded world, one they had risked too much and worked too hard to open; if she was exposed, that window would close again. Perhaps without a second chance.
Zulanah blinked, unable to follow the words, but the tremor in Sameli’s voice needed no translation.
“I’m sorry,” Danira said, voice low and aching. She cast Elise a wounded look. The blonde’s sharp gaze wavered, thawing into apology.
Zulanah took Sameli's hand, guiding her back to the chair, with a smile. “Try the food,” she said, “It's still unfamiliar to me, but it's really good. Just avoid the herb with yellow flowers; it's very spicy:”
“I’m sorry. I think I need to rest,” Sameli said, pushing back from the table without taking another bite.
Danira kept her distance, voice soft with regret. “I understand.”
Zulanah quietly gathered the plates and followed Sameli to her room. At the doorway, she hesitated before stepping inside and setting the dishes on the small table by the bed.
“Should I leave you alone?” she asked, almost as though she hoped the answer would be no.
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“No… you can stay,” Sameli replied. Her voice flickered with apology. “I’m sorry for what happened out there. It’s just been… a lot for one day.”
“I get it,” Zulanah said gently. “We don’t have to talk. We can just eat in silence.”
After a few spoonfuls and tentative bites, Sameli glanced at Zulanah. “You weren’t exaggerating. It’s… really good.”
The Xarathi cooked food that nourished, but little more. This, however, was art: it had flavor, warmth, spice, sweetness. Before starting this meal, Dionaea had only planned on seeing monuments, cities and natural wonders. But now, tasting this small miracle of flavor, a new desire bloomed: to explore every dish, every drink the single-sharded world could offer.
“I know, right?” Zulanah laughed. “I’ve spent most of my life in kitchens, and Jared still surprises me.”
“This Jared guy… is he a chef?” Sameli asked.
Zulanah shook her head, amused. “Not at all. He’s a fighter. A Haksari kind of warrior.”
“Well, whatever he is, he’s wasting talent. He should be cooking.”
The air had calmed now, tension loosening like a knot undone. They ate in a quiet, shared peace before Sameli spoke again.
“May I ask something? Why is a Drakvari worker like you traveling with a group of Haksari?”
Zulanah paused mid-bite and placed the plate aside with care. “You might think it's silly, but a big part of the reason is that I want to see the world,” she confessed. “To see what lies beyond the tunnel walls and gates of Kalista.”
Her gaze drifted toward the blank wall, yet she stared as if it were a window to someplace grand. “The vast seas, the endless deserts, the mountains buried in snow… I want to see all of it before my life is over.”
Sameli stroked a strand of her hair, soft as dusk. “That’s not silly,” she whispered. “That’s something I want too.”
“Do you know what you’ll do now?” Zulanah asked quietly.
“I’ll travel with my aunt and the caravan,” Sameli replied. “Wherever they go, I go. She said we’re leaving tomorrow.”
Zulanah’s gaze fell to her lap. “Then… I suppose this is our last night under the same roof.”
“You’re not coming with us?” Sameli asked, genuinely confused.
“No,” Zulanah replied, shaking her head. “Danira, Elise, Jared and I are staying. We’ll wait for the ship that sails south. There’s something I want to witness in person: the lights that dance across the sky before the long night, they say they're only visible from the Sutherlands. They say they're caused because the gods breathe into the world.”
A silence settled between them.
“So… I suppose tomorrow is goodbye,” Zulanah murmured.
Sameli touched her arm. “Just for now.”
A small part of Dionaea felt relieved not to travel with Elise, one less pair of sharp eyes watching. But the relief soured with the thought of leaving Zulanah behind. The young Drakvari had a curious soul, a spark that reminded them of themselves.
“How about this?” Sameli offered, her voice lifting with fragile hope. “You’ll be going south, and I’ll be going north. So let’s try, really try, to remember everything we see. Then, when we meet again, we tell each other everything.”
Zulanah nodded, eyes bright. “Yes! I’d like that”
That night, Sameli shared a cramped bed with her two young cousins and her aunt. The space was small, blankets tangled, and elbows pressed into ribs, but sleep came easier than it had in weeks. In fact, she drifted off so quickly that she woke before the others, eyes opening to the pale pre-dawn light.
Through Sameli’s senses, Dionaea wandered the quiet inn. The walls were built of driftwood and stone, reinforced with beams of pale timber engraved with protective spirals. Seashell wind-chimes hung above doorways. The floorboards creaked softly beneath her bare feet, warmed faintly by pipes that carried steam from a boiler room below.
“Sameli, you’re up!” Danira called from behind. She jogged to catch up, dressed in light clothes despite the lingering morning chill. “I’m sorry about yesterday.”
Sameli shook her head. “No, I’m sorry for leaving early. And thank you again for the clothes. My aunt and Sig bought me a dress, so I’ll return yours later.”
“Don’t worry about it,” Danira said with a small smile. After a moment’s pause, she added, “We’re heading out to train. Would you like to come? I promise, no invasive questions this time.”
Sameli nodded; she wanted to see the city anyway. “Sure. I’d like that.”
Elise stepped in a moment later, and this time she and Sameli only exchanged a small wave from across the room. They stood together in silence, each careful not to move or speak in a way that might reopen yesterday’s tension. The air between them was fragile, but not hostile.
“I’ll go get him,” Danira signed with a frustrated flick of her hands, then disappeared down the hall. She returned moments later, dragging a half-awake man who looked like he’d only just fallen out of bed.
He blinked at Sameli. “Oh. You’re Mirai’s new kid, right?”
“Sameli,” she said.
He pointed at himself mid-yawn. “Jared. Welcome to the group.”
So this was the famous Jared.
“Thank you for yesterday’s meal,” Sameli said. “It was delicious.”
“Well, glad someone thinks so,” he muttered, his face in an expression as if pretending he didn't already know for a fact everyone thought so. “You coming with us?” His eyes were barely open.
Sameli nodded.
At her request, they jogged through the waking city. Solmaris was still half-asleep: only the gulls and the sea wind stirred. Lanterns guttered on their hooks, casting pale amber halos across damp cobblestones. The harbor water reflected the first threads of sunrise like broken glass, and fishing boats rocked lazily against their moorings.
Jared led them around certain corners. On the roads he avoided, refugees lay in clusters, shivering beneath patched blankets, refugees that weren't so lucky as to have family on the mainland as Sameli did. They slept in improvised camps, caps that were just warm and sturdy enough for an ordinary night, but nowhere near enough for the long night to come.
“That’s why Sig and the others are heading out today,” Jared said as they jogged. He ran like a man on a leisurely stroll, barely winded. “He might seem like a greedy bastard. Because he is. But this time he softened. Donated almost everything he had on hand. Bought food, paid for supplies, made sure the shelters wouldn’t starve.”
A crooked smile tugged at his mouth. “We were even hauling folks inland ourselves. Villages can take them in. Not perfect, but better than freezing to death in the streets.”
Sameli exhaled hard, struggling to match Jared’s pace. “He gave me the impression of being… warm-hearted.”
“You’ll be going with him? And your aunt?” Jared asked.
“Yes,” she said between breaths.
Danira entered the conversation. “We’re really gonna miss everyone. Right, Elise?”
Elise nodded, but the gesture felt like a placeholder. She wasn’t in the right position to see Danira’s lips, and the nod carried guesswork instead of certainty.
They reached a clearing, far enough from the city that their noise wouldn’t wake anyone. The grass was still wet with dawn, and the air smelled of salt and woodsmoke.
Sameli sat aside on a log as she watched as the others began to practice with wooden weapons. Dionaea knew this dance well. Many of their shards had fought before, Drexari brawlers, Haksari soldiers, even Drakvari warriors, were included in Dionaea's shard arsenal. Even with Sameli’s weaker body, slower reflexes, and softer strength, they were certain they could defeat Danira and Elise in a brawl. Simply from the battle experience of their other shards alone.
Jared, however… Jared was on a different level. Even while holding back, his movements carried confidence and control. The kind of strength Dionaea knew even their strongest shards would struggle against.
“Want to try?” Danira asked, breath puffing in the cold morning air.
“No, thanks.” It was wiser, not to mention more comfortable, to stay seated. Watching from the sidelines meant avoiding mistakes, and more importantly, avoiding Elise’s suspicion.
By the time they returned to the inn, a few caravan members had begun to stir. Jared slipped straight into his cooking gear, tying the apron around his waist with ease.
“Time for the reheating,” he said, already moving toward the kitchens.
After breakfast, gathering the refugees and a lot of carrying crates, the Caravan was all set to leave.
Sameli returned Danira’s clothes, folded neatly. Danira pulled her into a hug.
“Good luck. I’m glad you found your family,” she murmured.
“Good luck to you too,” Sameli replied.
Elise stepped forward then, offering a brief but sincere hug before stepping back.
Zulanah was the last to approach. She pulled Sameli into a warm embrace.
“I’ll keep a diary,” she promised. “I’ll write down everything I see. Next time we meet, I’ll tell you all of it.”
“I’m looking forward to that,” Dionaea said, every word honest.
The farewell spread through the group like a quiet ache. Those staying behind clung to one another; those leaving clutched whatever hope the road could offer. Sig’s voice barked orders, but even he seemed reluctant to let go.
There was no time to waste. The long night would catch them if they moved too slowly.
Sameli climbed onto the caravan and looked back. Solmaris blurred with distance, the sea glittering like broken glass. At last, even the lighthouse vanished, a lone spine of white swallowed by the horizon.
My dearest Lisa,
Refugees are flooding Solmaris by the thousands now. They come from every corner of the Jubel Archipelago, fleeing what they call the Taken. The same creatures out of old hearth-stories and nightmare fairytales. Only, this time, the fear feels real. Though I haven't seen them with my own eyes. Whatever chased so many people from their homes is something no imaginary tale could cause.
I’ll be heading home ahead of schedule. Sig and I have already made arrangements; I’ll take the next ship heading home. If the winds and Solenya’s grace favor us, I should be in your arms soon.
Until then, be cautious. Keep the lantern lit after nightfall, and don’t open the door to anyone you don’t know or starts acting weird. Kiss the little ones for me and let them know their father is on his way.
With all my love,
-Jared
Elise's Journey.
Chapter 17: Elise (Part 2).
Thank you very much for taking the time to read my story.

