Atkin removed the glasses from his pocket, the ones his father made for him a lifetime ago. To wear them now would bring uncomfortable attention to the others, despite Voba’s vouching for the ‘visitors.’
Something so wonderful, so simple, so essential to easing into a new society; the spectacles offered a familiar view to an unfamiliar world. Ella’s quilts, filled with the scents of the savory soups, sweet drinks and salty breads mingled with memories of home. The faint, lingering smoke from Alle’s activities returned Allen to Schilon’s hut, blending petals, seedlings, herbs and other found items for new remedies.
Looking at the flickering dance by the corner of the cupboard, Allen marveled at the sight of raindrops bouncing up from the open window behind the flame and carried by the wind. Cupping the air around it, the impression he felt of the combined elements quieted the fears. It was if these elements, that normally fed or defeated one another, were meant to fold into one another, forming a new existence that defied the rules.
Wellone watched as Voba’s body shook from hearty laughter at Atkin, Desmon and Jalem’s challenge of re-building a wall for the school without the means of their magic. The young man leaned back, waiting for the innkeeper to throw over a visionary cloak to allow the trio to do what needed to be done.
Yes, it was dangerous for them to stay, especially for Atkin. Yet it was equally dangerous for them to go too soon, as well. This minor moment of peace allowed for something to grow, to strengthen, to prepare to defend what was established by Quinton so many lifetimes ago.