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Morning came and found Marc and Aiyra strolling through Zaire, a bustling, yet quaint sea-city on one of Maedra’s many ocean shores. Much to her father’s surprise, Aiyra had decided to spend her birthday adjusting to normal life. Since Marc was supposed to visit Maedra to officially escort the last of the refugees down to the planet’s surface, and since neither father nor daughter wanted to be parted, it worked out perfectly for both.
Maedra was beautiful, with lush valleys and picture-perfect oceans. Even the cities were more like a sprawling garden by the sea than those which Marc had visited previously.
The crew of the Lumenara were taking shifts, and spending their free time exploring the new scenery and breathing in the salt air.
At eight o’clock that morning, the governor of the region of Zaire met with Marc in the sunken plaza before the marble palace that sat on the water’s edge, with its columns, fountains, and flowering shrubs and vines.
The refugees who were with him found a warm homecoming as the entire city turned out to celebrate their freedom. Those who had been stolen from another time were shown equal love, and given homes until the day that, perchance, they might return to their own homes.
Banners were flown, songs were sung, the trees festooned with ribbons and lights, and children darted through the crowd, laughing as they stole a little extra freedom from the care of their parents. The governor personally welcomed each refugee and then thanked Marc for his work in bringing them home.
Konstan was there, and presented a pair of gorgeous birds-of-paradise to the governor as a gift, whereupon the entire crew of the Lumenara was invited to the celebration ball the following evening.
All in all, it was quite the introduction to socialization and freedom for Aiyra, and quite a birthday party.
Father and daughter spent the remainder of that morning exploring each garden and fairytale alleyway they came across, studying the clouds, and buying things that Aiyra didn’t need but Marc wanted to give her.
On one such occasion, as they came out of a quaint cobblestone alley draped with rose-colored flowers, with a beautiful silk shawl thrown over Aiyra’s shoulders, a bouquet of roses and violets in her hands, a spray of crystal and enamel ocean waves in her hair, and a collection of old books in Marc’s arms, they collided with Konstan and Samantha.
“Goodness!” laughed Samantha, as the books spilled and down went the roses.
Konstan and Marc swept up the books as the engineer gathered the flowers and handed them to Aiyra.
“Happy birthday!” Samantha said. “I’m afraid I don’t have a present for you at the moment, as Konstan and I were just about to start a hunt for one. Or two.”
She was laughingly eyeing the presents that Marc had already bought for his daughter, and wondered whether she could find anything that he hadn’t found first.
Konstan leaned over and gave Aiyra a quick squeeze.
“Happy birthday, princess!” He gently tugged on the bow in her hair. “I have a hunch by the time the day is over, you’ll have so many presents you won’t be able to find anything in your room!”
“Seriously, though,” Samantha interjected, “it’s quite a birthday you’re having, Aiyra! I hope it’s alright.”
She studied her friend’s face for signs of stress, but noted to her pleasure that Aiyra was quicker to adapt than would be expected. Clearly the girl was having the time of her life with her father, and her day was only made better by having her two friends with her as well.
“You look pretty, Samantha,” Aiyra smiled.
Indeed, on this rare occasion Samantha had traded the everyday olive-green and black sweater dress of her uniform for a casual cranberry one, pleated in diamond form to mirror the rainbow quartz she always wore at her throat.
“Please,” Aiyra coaxed, “for my birthday present, can you spend the day with me? Both of you? You said yourselves I will get too many presents otherwise.”
Konstan just laughed, obviously liking the idea. He never had much luck when it came to birthday presents, anyway. Samantha, though, hesitated and glanced at Marc before giving in. Aiyra promptly led her off to the little marketplace outside the alley, where a troop of pet monkeys were causing mischief.
Marc and Konstan sat down on a low stone wall and watched the pair laugh as the monkeys danced and tried to eat Aiyra’s roses. Konstan sighed and Marc turned his attention to him. The young engineer was watching Aiyra with a pained, grave look.
“What’s wrong?” the captain inquired.
“She’s been through so much,” Konstan murmured. “And she’s so strong! So much stronger than I would be. I’m ashamed of myself for not having suffered as much nor as well as she has. True, I’m not in control of what God gives me to suffer, but couldn’t I have suffered twice as well as I did? And even that would be nothing compared to Aiyra. I can understand her, because like her, I lost my whole family, yet she has you. We both spent most of our lives on our own, but she spent it in slavery, while I trained for the Vestar Fleet.”
He sighed heavily, still watching the laughing girl, whom no one would have imagined as being a slave five weeks before.
“I almost wish,” he whispered, “that I could suffer more so that I could be like her. Captain, you’re the most blessed father I’ve ever met, but I know you don’t need me to tell you that.”
Marc smiled softly, with a tinge of sadness mingled with pride.
“Yes, I’m more blessed than I deserve; but I only wish that she could have been blessed with a mother always there at her side. If there were only Time. . .”
He abruptly sank into deep thought, with an expression that caused Konstan to worry.
“Captain,” he said quietly. “She can’t come back.”
Marc looked up. “No, she can’t. But I could find her.”
“If you managed to make it through the fields of Borania, into the correct time, and were willing to save a woman who isn’t quite your wife anymore,” Konstan replied.
Marc bit his tongue.
“I know, sir, and I understand how you feel,” Konstan said gently. “If I could go back in time, I’d try to save my parents. Yet I know that they wouldn’t quite be my parents because I’d be preventing them, and God, from forming together the path that He planned from eternity. If you save Talitha, sir, she won’t be the woman you remember. And you’ll be five years older, at least, than she is. And if you try again to save her from being kidnapped in the first place, you’ll be fifteen years older than her. And Aiyra. . . if you save the mother, you can’t leave the child, sir. If you save Aiyra somewhere in time, then she won’t be the girl you have today.”
They both looked at Aiyra, who glanced back at them with laughing eyes and blew her father a kiss. Marc’s heart was aching. What Konstan was saying made perfect sense.
So then, if Talitha died. . . . Aiyra had been forced to watch her mother die, and had seen her buried. He groaned and knew that it was hopeless. His last chance of saving Talitha was gone.
When Aiyra had been returned to him, despite the story of her mother’s death, Marc had received a faint flicker of hope that his wife could return to his side. But it was not his place to meddle with time any more than it was his place to say who should live and who should die. He sighed and looked at Konstan again.
“Thank you.”
Konstan gave him a little smile as Aiyra danced up to them, Samantha trailing behind her.
“Where are we going now, A’da?” she inquired.
“Where would you like to go, sweetheart?”
Aiyra paused and her brow creased as she noticed his eyes.
“Are you thinking about A’ma?” she asked softly, instead of answering.
Marc just nodded. Aiyra looked at him, then at Konstan, who was frowning a little.
“We haven’t lost her entirely, A’da,” Aiyra said softly, turning back to him. “She is just in a different place, where you cannot reach her. She can still hear you; we will see her again, A’da.”
Marc pulled her into his arms and held her close. Again, he knew she was right. He sighed, realizing once more how much of her mother was in her: her personality, her heart, everything.
In fact, if he had Aiyra, whom Talitha had given life to and spent her own life, love, and energy nurturing her, was it not true that he still had Talitha in the sense that she had given him their daughter? Talitha had protected and comforted Aiyra through those seven years of slavery, in the hopes that father and daughter would be reunited.
He smiled into Aiyra’s soft iridescent eyes, so much like Talitha’s. Cythian eyes changed colors depending on one’s emotions, surroundings, and even the colors they wore; now Aiyra’s eyes were an aqua blue that mirrored the ocean waves.
“Come on, let’s get your birthday going again.
He took her hand and led the group towards the waterfront. A crowd of teenagers were gathered for a watercraft excursion. Spotting Konstan and Aiyra, and noting that they must be visitors as they were not wearing the native dress, the group waved to them and invited them to join the fun.
Aiyra looked at the water-speeders, which seemed quite fast compared to anything she had ever ridden.
Konstan looked at them and thought how much fun his friend would have if he took her.
Marc looked at them and saw that they would both enjoy the trip, and Samantha looked at Marc and noticed that he needed time to be able to shake off his mood and enjoy his daughter’s birthday.
“Why don’t you two take one of those water-speeders for a spin?” Marc suggested.
As Samantha was thinking, it would give him some time to put sadness out of his head before his daughter returned.
It would also give him a chance to talk to the engineer and see if he could somehow help her with her own problem, whatever it might be.
Konstan jumped at the idea, eager to show Aiyra a good time, and the pair ran down to the pier to join the group, though Konstan did have to coax her into speaking to the young people. Marc and Samantha went onto the balcony that overlooked the harbor.
The cool, salty breeze blew in their faces and tousled Samantha’s dark hair. In a few moments, they saw Konstan and Aiyra’s waterspeeder shoot out across the bay, leaving a sparkling spray of foam in its wake. A few curious seagulls chased them, while their other feathered friends came to Marc and Samantha, looking for a treat. Samantha laughed and tossed them the remainder of a cookie that she had been sharing with Konstan.
Marc leaned on the balustrade, breathing in the ocean air and watching as Konstan literally took Aiyra for a spin on the water. Behind them and across the bay was a cliff of white stone, stained a dark gray from ages of sea-storms, erosion, and ancient wars. The bay was several miles wide, with white-capped lapping waves of a blue so bright, it acted as a mirror to merge earth, sea, and sky.
Marc began to feel a nagging sense of fascination with the place, as if he had been somewhere like it before, and it held a story which he needed to be told.
Samantha wandered down the colonnaded path parallel to the shore. Marc reluctantly followed, trying to place just what seemed so familiar. He shook himself out of his thoughts when the young engineer asked him a question about Aiyra’s birthday.
No, Marc explained to her, it wasn’t exactly Aiyra’s first birthday celebration. In fact, Talitha had kept on trying to make the day special for her daughter, even in slavery. She wasn’t able to do much, but every year she would weave a bracelet, a headband, a necklace, or some other little trinket so that Aiyra would know she was loved. Marc glanced down now and looked thoughtfully at the woven straw, leather, and seashell band that he wore under his coat cuff. Even on Cytha Talitha had made such little presents for the ones she loved.
“Ms. Anselle,” he said slowly, pulling it off, “this was made by Talitha. . . I wish you would please take it.”
Samantha stared and looked like an alarm was going off in her ears.
“Why? I mean, your wife made it. I should think that you’d want to keep it.”
“I think Talitha would want you to have it. . . she made it to comfort me when I was stressed one day. Battle-trauma, you know. If she knew you, she would make one for you also. And I want you to remember that whatever it is that is frightening you, I’ll protect you. A captain doesn’t abandon even one member of his crew, Ms. Anselle, even an engineer who seems to be afraid of me.”
His eyes were laughing a little, yet gravely looking into hers. Samantha reluctantly took the bracelet offered to her and they resumed their silent walk along the promenade.
They were passing a noisy, crowded hotel porch when a couple of young boys began bombing them with sandballs and the pair quickly ducked into an antique store’s doorway, zig-zagged through the jumbled merchandise, and stumbled out into a silent plaza.
The bubbling fountain looked ancient, and ivy tumbled tenaciously over the four walls surrounding the courtyard as if it had grown there for centuries. Weeds and wildflowers intermixed in the raised beds placed in the four corners of the walls, and popped up between the broken cobblestones. A lone pigeon sat high on the branch of a wild, climbing rose and preened itself.
“It looks as though no one has been here for ages,” Samantha said in amazement, speaking in a whisper, for the air felt heavy with a silent presence.
Marc approached the fountain, seeing a gleam of brass hiding beneath a patch of moss near its foot. He stooped and pulled the greenery away. Beneath lay an ancient marker, the inscription of which Marc read aloud.
In the year 1433, Earth Reckoning, the Lord of Maeldra was overthrown by way of his own tyranny. His people rebelled against him when he struck down the beloved of the city, a princess from many moons. Here marks the spot where she was first interred, before reburial in the cathedral that was later erected. Her death encouraged us to have the strength to buy freedom for our people, and our nation was cleansed and healed of the despot’s curse.
This marker placed on the 50th anniversary of the death of the Lady Breciendelle,
Slave, mother, and queen,
May of 1483, A.D., E.R.
The wind whispered through the ivy leaves and scattered the broken petals of the rose, some falling into the fountain’s still water. There were a few moments of silence.
“Well, that made little sense to me,” Samantha confessed. “But whoever this lady is, she seems to be the only reason that Maedra is a happy place today. And now, I think we should be keeping an eye on your daughter, don’t you?”
She walked away, too disturbed by something she could not lay her finger on to remain any longer.
Marc lingered, staring at the light which glinted off the lettering on the marker. His eyes were slowly blinded as he fell deep into thought, and when he heard a soft footstep, he thought it was Samantha.
But for the briefest of moments, he had the strangest feeling of being back in Cytha, with its gardens, fountains and courtyards, and his mind told him that it must be Talitha who was coming to see him. He shook himself out of his daydream and looked about, but his eyes were still too dazzled to see.
“Samantha?” he asked.
There was no answer but the breeze. He must have been mistaken. He covered his eyes with his hand to adjust them to the dimmer lighting, and looked round again.
This time he saw someone leaving swiftly through an archway in the far wall. He wondered if the man was visiting the marker as well. Perhaps he could explain the story it held. There was only one way to find out - he darted out of the courtyard.
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