Mriae
(Akiyal post 1)
They hated him.
In all his twelve years of living with Xilarn, Akiyal could not rightly bring to mind a time when he'd thought anyone actively hated him. If anyone was different in the little Sauti settlement, it was certainly his father, anyway. And that, unfortunately, and not by any choice of his own, was all Aki knew. So the bustling Oban cities were a shock and a delight. Initially.
It didn't take long for the younger Wind man to realize that Obans were not as accepting and free-spirited as their Wind cousins. In fact, they seemed to have a very deep-seated dislike of anyone who was 'different.' Xilarn's parents and siblings (who Akiyal had traveled quite a ways to meet, at his father's very hesitant suggestion) were no different. They hated him. And they hated that their son had stooped to mating with a hybrid (and long since lost that mate) and adopted a child that didn't look like them.
And no, Akiyal didn't just assume these things because they looked at him like they'd just swallowed something sour. It wasn't because they turned up their noses or sneered or made offhand commentary about him eating on the floor. They'd said as much to him. To his face. To his father's face. It wasn't enough to just hurt one of them because they'd both been fools for coming.
Akiyal did not think himself a fool. He was not going to stay in a city that didn't welcome him. It didn't matter that they'd only just arrived from Sauti and the hour was late and the sky was growing dark and the air blew crisp. He was leaving. And in the moment, it didn't seem pertinent to inform his father. So he walked down the street, alone and sulking.
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(Xilarn post 1)
It had been a mistake to come here. He'd sent letters. He'd received letters, and despite knowing of his family's prejudice, in writing everything had sounded so much nicer. Clipped and formal, but polite, as Xilarn expected most people talking to a long-absent relative would sound. It had been years since he'd seen his family. Over a decade. And they'd had a long while to sort out their feelings toward the rest of Tendaji.
They were not as sorted as Xilarn had hoped.
Despite his prayers for an 'easy' and maybe even 'warm' meeting, his father always had differing plans. He hadn't been interested in any part of 'getting to know' his grandson. Which seemed to Xil, after spending so many years away, as just unnecessarily stubborn. His mother had a softer heart and warmer eyes, but her voice was quiet in the following commotion and her views too subdued for Xilarn's tastes.
There'd been screaming, things were thrown. Xilarn had taken his son and left his old home. Again. Of course he was annoyed, hurt, distraught, tired. He expected Aki was tired too, and it'd be easier to stay in an inn here than try and fly back home. Neither of the raptrix would appreciate the trip (though he doubted either of them appreciated the Oba sun, either).
What he didn't realize, albeit after he'd obtained a room for the night, was that Akiyal's desire to stay in the great, hot, dirty, overcrowded city was practically nonexistent. The young teen had managed to escape him, and there was no telling where he'd gotten off to.
A stab of annoyance, quickly followed by fear spiked through him, and Xilarn cursed softly. He had to find him.
Great.
