[AW] eyes that fire and sword have seen

[Jahin]

He swam here as a boy.  It had been a time of peace and prosperity for the Davke; a time that they would soon come to mourn and would then later grow to be a bitter people full of contempt for the outside world. Peace has never resisted them since. But at the time, he did not understand peace and war, or tyranny and genocide. He was a but a boy. A serious, solemn Davke boy, but a child nonetheless. He did not splash and play with the other Davke children, but would come here alone instead when the still pool of water would reflect the stars and moon overhead. He would listen to the the serene chirp of crickets and murmur of the night wind through the palm leaves. He would drop pebbles into the water just to watch the ripples ebb and flow. Sometimes the more curious kelpie children would throw the pebble back, and they would entertain themselves like this for hours. All the while the Davke boy known as Jahin contemplated his place in the world and desperately missed his mother in secret.  He had many mothers as a child but that did not stop him from missing her or wondering about his father. He would swim, sometimes, when the emptiness of missing someone you had never known felt like too much. He would float, listless and still, liking the way the water made him feel weightless and grounded all at once.  He would come back still, many years later as a grown Davke warrior to throw a pebble into the water. He was still Jahin, but different too. He contemplated other things, then; heavier things. Concepts like love and duty and shame and responsibility. He came here to wash the blood from his skin after the trial to earn his place as a warrior among his people. He came here and wept like a child.  He comes back now, much older. He is world-weary and tired. The stars blink overhead, lacking sympathy in their cold, distant light. The wind sighs through the palm leaves and there is a sweet floral fragrance on the breeze.  He tosses a pebble into the water.