Posted by: jolantru | August 12, 2012

Path Of Kindness: Seventeen

“You are a fire-starter,” Sa draws me aside, almost shaking me. “You need to go back and train. Get it under control.”

Sar words tumble, weird unpleasant flavors, in my mouth and in my head. Fire-starter. Why? Am I still a heretic? What am I?

“Your mother is a teacher of magic. Ask her to train you.”

I shake my head. “I am too far away. Too far gone to be trained.”

Sa taps me on my cheek with sar hand. “Do not be silly.”

“You slapped me!” I snap at Sa. I have never been slapped before. Not even a tap on the face.

“Can you please just listen to me?” Sa sounds and looks exasperated. “I might not know you long enough. But this is something you need to understand and control.”

“So you think you know me well enough now?”

The kiss is unexpected. Sar lips are soft and hard at the same time. I freeze, my body becoming stock-still. Sa pulls back and glances at me with sar green eyes.

“Do not be silly. You need to go back.”

I start shaking. So many things in my mind now. I am going crazy. How about Heart?

Why now?

Why?

I do not want to go back.

The kiss stirs up many emotions too. I want to kiss Sa back as well.

“Let me think about this. Please.”

What about Shu?

Why now?

And what is a fire-starter anyway?

~*~

Ti oh oh –
The sky is dark.

Oh little baby, don’t be afraid.

Twinkle twinkle little star.

Ti oh oh –
The sky is dark.

I gather Heart close to me. How old is she now? Five months? Six? She nestle into my shoulder, a distinct wet spot growing as she gnaws. She is growing teeth now. I lift my hand, the flame-causing hand, to stroke her and wonder if I would end up hurting her one day.

I will not.

Quietly, as Sa urges Kechil to continue, I begin to sew clothing for Heart with whatever fabric I can find in the caravan. She is outgrowing whatever I have made for her. My sewing skills are rudimentary, even Sa laughs at me. I challenges sar to it and Sa demures me. Coward.

Am I going to go back and let myself be trained… no, be controlled… by lesson after lesson?

I wonder at the sheer audacity of that though. When have I become so rebellious?

I am still a heretic, after all.

Sewing, savoring the words and feeling Heart’s heartbeat, I smile to myself.

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