He is not quite as collected as Casimira is on this day, so he decides to move away from a sleeping Adriana in order to let his anxiety wear a trampled path through the grasses. This type of agitation is largely unprecedented, for he had never really had much to worry about in the past. He does feel the same as Casimira, though, in that he is not necessarily concerned with how long it is taking everyone to complete their tasks (he’s convinced it was sheer luck that he’d been able to collect his piece so quickly); no, he is more concerned with what comes after, should Beqanna smile upon their efforts and fulfill their collective desire.
Though he believes the reborn lands to be functioning more like herdlands than anything else, he is aware that crowns and royal titles have been bestowed upon the four ruling women. It is not that he has anything against how the hierarchies are constructed in those lands, but it does make him wonder how Tephra’s residents will choose to structure their government. Should they follow suit, he finds himself questioning again how he would fit into a model that he had no experience with.
Insecurity has never been much of a problem for him, but these days, it seems to hang over him like a persistent rain cloud, threatening to drown him in an ocean of worry and doubt. From the fear of failing to bring back Adriana’s birthplace, to the lingering traces of uncertainty over their relationship in general, to distress that Tephra will rise again but he will not be able to find his niche in its community.
A grunt of frustration escapes him as he ceases his pacing and looks dejectedly to the horizon, wondering, not for the first time, if any of this will be worth it in the end. Just as he wishes he might have someone to share his thoughts with, someone who might be able to put his mind at ease, he notices movement at the periphery of his sightline.
He cannot quite tell who else has settled in to cast their attentions across the far-flung expanses, but the ghost-white figure seems familiar, even at a distance. His not-so-subtle need for a willing ear to hear his worries is what drives him to approach without knowing who waits there. When Casimira turns, he finds himself grateful when her smile of recognition unfolds itself.
“Casimira!” he crows, relief and delight thoroughly coating each syllable of her name; if anyone could quiet his turmoil, surely it would be the former queen. He offers his own polite smile as he says, “Very pleasant indeed. I trust you are getting along well?” He moves accept her invitation, though he is careful to maintain some distance, not only out of respect for Casimira, but also for the fragile newness of his commitment to the young woman that rests nearby.
He regards the pale mare’s placid expression for a moment, realizing he does not know her well enough to predict how she will respond to his questions. Still, he cannot imagine that she will be quick to dismiss him, so with an optimistic glimmer in his eye, he asks, “Would you mind shining some light on something that’s been bothering me?”
“I would imagine that everyone would prefer to see Tephra restored to kingdom status when she rises, but I don’t know anything about that kind of life..” His voice cracks slightly as his insecurity suddenly rears up again and dries out his mouth. He hopes that Casimira does not interpret this as an aversion to serving a king or queen, because the truth is that he is worried that he will somehow fail and be forced to leave.
He unintentionally casts a glance in the direction he had come from, and a rush of emotion causes his throat to constrict further. The idea of either leaving her behind, or worse, asking her to abandon her home to stay with him, consumes him for a lengthy moment. When he eventually finds his voice again, he admits, “I cannot say that I share the love and loyalty that you and the others possess, but I hope to someday, as I care very much for someone that already does. For her sake, I will do anything to secure a promising and safe future for Tephra.”
He forces his gaze back to Casimira, surprised that he feels no shame or embarrassment at his sentimentality, or in the gentle plea in his voice as he continues, “I suppose I am really just wondering if you have any suggestions on how I might be most helpful to the next leader?”
All journeys have secret destinations of which the traveler is unaware
--Martin Buber
