judith doesn't really think about things pertaining to the world of the surface, at least tries not to, but it knaws away at her just a little. it hasn't been very long since that day on the tower.
she's on her own at the moment.
it takes her by surprise, even now. a setback, sure, but a small one thankfully. she can't allow herself to get distracted now, of all the times.
it takes her by surprise, that feeling of companionship, being a part of something a bit bigger, even for a second. but she tries to push it away from her mind.
if she falters, ba'ul will know. and when they are together again he will whisper very gently to her that she must remember their mission, the promise they made to temza and her father.
he doesn't mean it to be hurtful, he never does, ba'ul is always kind when he talks about temza and the war and obligations, because it hurts him as much as it hurts her. but it does sting a bit to be able to remember that day so clearly, even now.
and judith knows. she knows he's right but
it feels good. nostalgic, almost.
but she knows this: knows it can't last, knows one of these days she'll have to end it and return to the endless expanse of the sky. at least she'll have ba'ul. she always has ba'ul.
the sky isn't her home, though. her home is somewhere she can never reach to and can never go again, the chill of sandbrick long since bombed-out replacing the warmth of hearth-fire, and only in the deepest reaches of her mind does the heat return, just too late to grab onto when she wakes up.
still, it's been too long. too long since she's heard her actual name come from someone else's voice, much less any sort of affectionate nickname like that. that human man says it a bit different than how he used to, but the warmth is still there, and it fills judith with a feeling she's not sure how to respond to. something about warmth.
(is it too early to call it love? most likely, yes. her only love, in a sense, died long ago, but maybe he feels differently? humans are a bit scary, in that way.)
she has to admit, it's a feeling she misses, for sure. but it's not something she can actually have, and that's fine, in the end. she'll always be able to return to ba'ul, and all will return to the way it's
it hasn't always been this way.
judith remembers a time when it wasn't like this. a time long ago. a world illuminated by warm sunlight and the shadows of father muzaeli, who watches the continent as one of its two divine guardians. the other, kados, is to the east. she protects desier from all who would dare to harm its people, and she is seen best when the moon is full and hangs high in the sky, surrounded by many stars.
judith remembers it all.
the world was always
so small
in temza.
it's nice to see the rest of the world, the world is beautiful and must be protected which is what the kritya have always done, protecting the world from humans who seek to harm it, but that feeling of belonging, that feeling of the world revolving around a single point
it's a childish sentiment, isn't it? she's not a child anymore. she hasn't been a child in a very long time. but the longing is there, sometimes.
there's no turning back. she made a promise. she can't let anything stand in front of her, even if something inside her longs for it.
and yet.