My boy is homesick. I can see it in the way he acts, the way he stares out at the stars, the way he peers at unfamiliar constellations. I can see it behind his expressional eyes, with every move he makes.
I'm guilty. Very, VERY guilty.
I should have never had taken him, I should have never used such a stupid *STUPID* spell. Gods only knew that jumping from shadow to shadow was
not my ability.
I work with predators, with animals, with carnivores. I don't use the elements like my lost friend, Kazaiko. She was the shadow mage, she held the abilities to jump in and out.
Not me.
And I shouldn't have jumped such risky business with Satehl. But what else was I supposed to do? He looked hurt, he looked scared, and that
thing was there. . . He'd told me he'd gone out for fish and yet he'd been gone for almost an entire day! He'd been out exposed to the elements overnight, and looked broken, cut and dirty.
I don't know what that
thing was, but it certainly didn't appear to be friendly. Satehl had been scared -- as much as the boy gave off such emotions. His curiousity can get him into such trouble! But I grew scared, and panicked. I'd already been so very lost without him there, and he had been so irate with me! So upset in a need to run away and be gone.
It had happened so fast I hardly had time to think about my actions. Which is where the problem first lie. . .
Without thinking I couldn't focus on where I needed to be. Away with Satehl, of course, but I never specified the where. I should have stayed on that planet, on Masquerade. I should have never used an ability I wasn't confident in. A nifty trick, perhaps, but a dangerous one. Risky business shadow-jumping provides. . .
As Satehl and I found out when we appeared elsewhere.
Far, FAR from the (still primitive) world of Masquerade.
I can't tell for sure if he's still upset at me. The boy is still hyper as always, but I fear I might have hurt him more than even he'll let me know. I love him though. I truly TRULY do.
I'm afraid that with how long we've been gone he's pulling away. Detaching himself. Blaming me for his lonliness and being away from his friends and home. The world that was so familiar to him. The world that he knew and wanted to explore. . .
I fear the worst.
I'm trying to get him home, I truly, TRULY am. But to be thrown on a different planet, a different galaxy. . . To be in a world so different than the lush forests, jungles, and oddeties found on Masquerade. I'm used to such travelling, but I fear for the health of my boy.
Satehl loves me, I know, and would never hurt me. But that doesn't mean he can't be upset. He can't suffer from lonliness and irritability. He claims he's not upset but somehow - a mothers instinct?- tells me otherwise.
I was to protect him. I was to love him and give him everything he needed to grow.
But what have I accomplished thus far?
Long trips from planet to planet. Space-stations. Alien tongues. Large cities, small cities, the hustle and bustle going here and there. Always on the move, always searching for a way to come home.
I'm not space pilot like Ice and some of the others. This mission had only fallen into my lap by pure chance -- Kaze had heard about it and thought it would be good for us.
Good for all of us.
And now what?
Kazaiko was gone -- I felt it.
Satehl was growing more and more bitter and homesick despite his facade of hyperactive curiousity.
And me? Myself?
Hurt, tired, afraid.
I wish we could return home . . .
I wish I could make Satehl happy, to see him
be the mischievious boy that he used to be.
He might laugh.
He might enjoy the stories of all these new places.
But I know he dreams of home.
Everytime we find a new planet, every time we find readings that
could be home. . . Everytime that planet turns out to be somewhere OTHER than Masquerade. . .
I see -- I
feel his hurt and disappointment.
Sometimes I wonder if we'll ever make it back. . .
Sometimes I wonder what will await us there if we do.
