[Family Estate East of Shi'Kahr, Kir province, Vulcan]
25th Day in the month of Tasmeen, YS 9021
"Rrrrr. Wrrrow."
"I agree. It is most unfortunate."
Even if Sovar had not known the reason for the Sehlat's plaintive rumblings, the way Warya's gigantic head rested on the stone bench would have been sufficient to draw a logical conclusion. It was the place that she who had been absent from this house for too long would have chosen on a morning such as this, watching Nevasa's splendor as her fierce light began to illuminate the hills and Llangon in the distance.
Wise eyes of amber-gold rested on the tall, dark figure under the ancient Gespar tree, and the old Sehlat sighed heavily. Even at this time of year, the coldest season as far as Vulcan had any seasons noticeable to outworlders, the ever present heat already began to seep into his thick, coarse fur. It was pleasant, really, but the scents rising from the garden soil reminded him of another young one who knew how special this place was, and had always tended to it with unceasing devotion. Oh, how she would love to see her Favinit in bloom now and smell the warm, spicy scent on the morning air.
Warya knew the thoughts of his friend were on the same she, because his hunter's gaze followed a Shavokh climbing high over the hills, riding the current.
With a hearty yawn that displayed his seven-inch fangs to a startled Chkariya in all their splendor, the old Sehlat got to his paws and patted over to the still figure under the tree, barely making a sound on the thick, hardy grass.
He noticed, of course, although one might not have guessed for he did not so much as bat an eyelash. It didn't take a nudge from a massive furry head however before he reached out and scratched the fur behind the Sehlat's happily twitching ears.
Soft footsteps approached on the path leading down from the main complex, and Warya briefly rumbled a greeting as a middle aged Vulcan with the most astonishing mahogany colored hair appeared behind the row of G'teth.
The deceptively frail looking male nodded to Sovar, casting an appreciative glance at the orchids.
"She will see you now."
Patting the Sehlat's head one more time, the tall somber one strode off with feline grace, and Warya considered another brief nap. But no, there were young ones in the house and they could always be persuaded to give their furry guardian a second breakfast.
Setting one giant paw in front of the other, he followed the two Vulcans who even for their usual calmness seemed … worried.
The children swiftly made their way out onto the terrace, followed by a patient gaze out of ancient eyes. Had they not been in the presence of the Eldest Mother, they might have run at the prospect of such an agreeable morning spent in the gardens, even though at their age one could expect some restraint. Still, it was good to see young T'Mei had become such a considerate child without losing any of her refreshing curiosity and ability to appreciate the simple joys.
At the sight of the dark figure appearing in the door, the Matriarch's indulgent air evaporated. She studied the unmoved features for long seconds and acknowledged his flawless bow of greeting with a brief nod before motioning him to the chair sitting at a precise 90 degree angle from hers.
He crossed the cool, polished stone floor with barely a sound and settled down just as silently.
"T'nar pak sorat y'rani, t'sai."
"Ha'tha ti'lu, Sovar."
Eyes as unreadable and unyielding as ancient smoked Topaz lingered on the large open window and the arched doorway leading into the gardens. Not a breeze stirred the feathery light fabric of the curtains, and Nevasa's early light bathed the seashell colored stone in hues of copper. The fires in the large bowls of hammered bronze had long died, but the scent of fragrant wood and herbs lingered, mingling with the rich, warm aroma of freshly brewed mocha.
"You have sent a messenger to travel with the Guardian."
To his credit, Sovar did not flinch, not even show the slightest reaction to the stare now fixed on him, nor the voice bereft of all emotion but carrying authority as heavy as the planet itself.
It had not been a question.
"I have, t'sai."
He waited politely, holding her gaze, and finally she gave a near imperceptible nod.
"Thy reasoning may be in question, however thy logic is not."
Several more seconds passed in silence, and although Sovar's mind was filled with questions, he knew better than to ask them. How could she have known? What would she do? And why did she choose to remain silent, even now? He could not imagine the weight she was carrying, nor did he wish to, but T'Leia had never been known for eschewing swift action if the situation called for it.
"It is true, then, that the Sundered know."
"Yes, t'sai."
Again, it had not so much been a question as a simple request for confirmation, and Sovar was silently astonished. He had not thought it possible to look with more respect at the small, slender woman sitting in the simple yet elegant chair beside him, but found that he did after all.
Her long curls were yet unbraided, and the silver tresses fell freely over her shoulders, covering the dark robe in a majestic mantle. For the briefest moment, the young Vulcan wondered if he was looking at her many decades from now, and the gaze that held him fixed with its fierce regard suddenly showed a spark of humor he recognized all too well.
As swiftly as the moment had come, it passed.
"T'Pelar is aware?"
"She suspects. It is logical to deduce this is contributing to her haste."
The Matriarch huffed, and the sound was so unexpected that Sovar nearly showed his surprise.
"No haste will suffice if the entropy this one has sown should bear fruit. You have taken upon yourself a burden, Sovar, speaking when none other would."
She fell silent again, and this time the tall, dark haired man decided to dare and pose the one question burning foremost in his mind.
"But will she speak, t'sai?"
Again, that gaze, scorching as Nevasa at midday, emanating from features as unmoved as ancient Seleya.
"You fear she will not? Or worse, decide to take the matter upon herself, thus taking the burden from you? What does logic tell thee, Sovar cha'Sator?"
"My logic is uncertain in this matter, t'sai."
"It should not be." T'Leia stated simply, dismissing the issue with a small wave of her hand.
"If there is to be entropy, you may have spared Charon its full fury. And even if not, it was c'thia that guided you. Thine honor is intact, Sovar. And it is why I require you to do my bidding now. T'Meni is awaiting you in the city. She will elaborate."
"Fa'hwak fai'thor nash-veh." Without hesitation, Sovar stood up and bowed deeply. "Dif-tor heh smusma, t'sai."
"Sochya eh dif, Sovar."
[End Log]
