Unrevolution 12.3
In which some things are explained, some questions are answered, and more questions arise, erm, therefrom.
The point where the sun’s light had faded and the stars were just shining through had long been a favorite spot of Kyden’s. He still enjoyed coming to the clearing he’d found years before, even after he’d come to loathe nearly everything else on the wretched little world he was stuck on.
The war was over, which was a good thing, he supposed. He had managed to stay out of this one, like most of the simple politics of the place. He had never cared enough to choose sides on this planet. Still, there had been quite a lot of needless death. Had he possessed his old weapons, or even the ship that had brought him, he might have been able to do more. But he had grown tired of wasting energy on wishes and the “if only” game. Now he just felt sick.
He thought it was odd, still feeling like an outsider after eight years. It wasn’t the strangest world Kyden had experienced, but it had its moments. Every so often, an event would fall into place with such perfection it seemed almost to have been orchestrated. He had met so many offworlders the place had seemed full of them, but it was just the juxtaposition of the familiar mix of species with the native residents, especially on the day side.
Then he had met Cassaria. She was beautiful, smart, and a poet. She had a gift for languages, and that made her useful in her position as the king’s assistant. He had been amazed at the breadth of her knowledge, and she seemed to him to be much older than she looked. Even as they had begun their romance, however, she brushed aside all questions of her deeper past, insisting that it didn’t matter what she had once been, only what she was now. The circumstances of her arrival on the planet did not involve a crash, as did the vast majority of offworld arrivals. Her story was one of abandonment, but the details of who had done the abandoning were vague. She seemed to have taken it in stride, as she did most other things in her life, and he found her indifference her most maddening trait. They fell in love, they took a house together in Jonter-Wo, and a year later it was over.
He felt lost. Not because of Cassaria, not because of the war, but because he had no idea what he was going to do next. His old pattern of trading in information was unsatisfying, and most of the prospects had vanished with the onset of the war. Now the Fulufans were in serious talks to unify. He had no idea what would happen if that came to pass. Invasion or even conquest might be possible. He decided he would make a choice over where his loyalties rested before it happened. Part of feeling lost was borne of long years spent playing two or more sides against each other and keeping to himself. He wanted to belong somewhere again.
And, as he stared up at the bejewelled darkness, he sat down for the first time since he found the clearing.
