Posted by Captain Ch’otok Klrin of House Ke’dass (Person Who Runs The Ship (CO)) in A quiet night in
Ch’otok had retired for the evening on this Thursday evening. It was a special day that normally would involve a hike out on Delotha to a remote ridge looking over some rubble and a ritual meal with tea, hasperat, and a few candles. This was the first time he had missed this evening and, in a way, it wasn’t anything strange. He indeed prepared the hasperat from ingredients he brought from his hut and farm, and brewed the tea as he always had, then took a deep breath with the two tins he would bring them in. One for him, one for a woman he first knew as Casela. Times had changed, and this was a wonderful thing. He waited for Cassandra to get home, a small reminder of their mutual past and what had been lost, but what had also been gained. They were together, and that was something beyond what he ever thought possible. Sure they had flirted with the possibility before, but now? It was reality.

Ch’otok, CO

Having been informed that he needed time to prepare something for this evening, Brenna had kept Cassandra out a bit later than normal. Today Cassandra was calmer, accepting the confusion and missing memories, rather than raging at them. She had fallen into a kind of routine where she spent her days with Brenna, waiting for Ch’otok to get home. She knew that, she felt that she was safer with him than anyone else. Safer from herself. Some days she knew it wasn’t herself he was keeping her safe from, but she couldn’t identify what.

The door swished open for her and then closed. She inhaled and paused. The aroma was spicy and heavy and *familiar. She moved towards the kitchen, “Ch’otok?” She saw the two tins, the thermoses, the candles. Her hand traced the edges of her tin. She knew it was her tin. “I remember these…” Her voice was reflective. She moved to stand next to him. Ch’otok was the calm center in a world full of storms. She hesitated before taking his hand. As if she wasn’t sure she should. He was her husband and hesitation was absurd, but as she did it felt new and wonderful and she felt nervous. Her reaction made no sense to her.

A memory, a real memory, teasing at her consciousness. She looked up at him. “Today is Thursday. I…I remember..sitting in a clearing. We eat hasperat and drink tea.” There was a question there, wondering if she remembered correctly.

Cassandra