It was a haphazardly assembled thing; barely a doll at all, but Ta’mika loved it all the same. It was the first thing that Kinya had sewn and though the girl likely had forgotten that she made it, her mother treasured it daily. Today it was especially appreciated.
Ta’mika though that she would be able to handle the separation from her daughter, but today - on the anniversary of her birth - she found it particularly hard to keep that resolve. The midday heat melted her strength and she cried away the hour that would have seen a quiet mother-daughter lunch on any other year.
After her eyes had dried out, the elderly Sassin simply watched the world happening through the door of her tent. In the silence she reaffirmed that her conclusion to send Ka’ren to join her daughter in Lieron’s courts was still the best course of action for their tiny family.
While it was the northern family that answered their tribe’s call for aide, it was also they who placed Julian the Drunk on the throne. Ta’mika understood that this was a political maneuver meant to benefit the Milmorda nobility by proxy of sworn fealty, but it should have been a Cafra in charge of protecting the desert library and its oasis.
They would be back at that oasis in just over a months time.
Despite the influx of Soliliean refugees, the tribe still maintained its circuit around the continent, traveling from one location to another, following some strange ancient paths that were supposedly laid out by the suns. Ta’mika never fully understood where the route came from, but she respected the tradition enough to just go with it.
Until recently.
Watching the void bloom over and then devour the stop on this circular trek that she most considered home had awakened her. The suns were more than just lights in the sky and they certainly weren’t benevolent as much of the desert populace believed. They were manipulative with their influence and used that power on strange and petty levels. If Ta’mika ever ran into that oracle again, she’d land a good solid punch in her face for sending Kinya away.
They all got what they deserved with her niece, however.
She laughed ironically as she remembered the tiny infant with terrifyingly radiant green eyes. Ta’mika had tried for a time to raise the child alongside her own daughter, but the constant visitation and demands from the royals wound up placing her back in the hands of the sorcerer. The girl losing her temper was predictable. What was not, was the extent of the damage she caused. The old handmaiden wondered if the multidimensional hole was still there, a year later.
Ta’mika found herself becoming somewhat excited to return to Libris Del Sol when one of it’s ghosts stepped past the opening of her tent. Exasperated, she jumped to her feet and dashed outside into the twilight beyond her fabric shelter.
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