Author's note: This fic. is set directly after the third book in 'The Wind on Fire' trilogy. Like everything I write, the story starts off slow. Please bear with me.
Disclaimer: I do not own any of the characters or locations etc. (sadly). The only thing that is mine is the plot.
The day had been wonderful, but long. Night was falling. In the dim evening light, Bowman Hath left the newly-weds' celebrations to find his father.
Hanno Hath was nowhere to be found. As the bride's father, he had attended the wedding, and the beginning of the party that ensued. Naturally, he had been very happy to see his daughter, Pinto, marry such a great friend as Mumpo.
Bowman knew that his father had been happy at the time of the wedding, earlier that day. But he couldn't help feeling that the darkness of night had brought a cloud of sadness into his father's heart. Bowman knew that it was hard to accept that all the joy of seeing Pinto marry was being experienced only by her father and brother. Pinto's mother, Ira, and sister, Kestrel, had both died for the sake of their people two years ago.
Bowman could tell that he would find his father at the cemetery, where he so often went to reflect on the things of the past.
Cheer up Bo; exclaimed Kestrel, Pinto got married today! I saw her!
It wasn't entirely true that all links had been cut between Bowman and his twin sister. He and Kestrel had always had an emotional bond that ran so deep that they could communicate telepathically. Ira may have gone for ever, but Kestrel was still tied to this world via her brother.
Did you see Pinto get married with your own eyes, Kess? asked Bowman, or did you see through mine?
Neither, replied Kestrel, I can hear your thoughts, but I can't actually visualise anything. Or can I? It's hard, you know. I guess being me is like being blind, or something. I've been stripped of all senses, except hearing. I can hear you.
Are you saying that you're sort of, well, floating about in limbo…? Bowman had never had this sort of conversation with his sister before. He'd never wanted to. What if it had turned out that she was some sort of a figment of his imagination? A living memory – if such a thing exists? He didn't think he would've been able to bear it.
Limbo? Maybe, if that's what you want to call it. I'd have a look around and check for you, but sadly, I can't.
Bowman was used to Kestrel's dry sense of humour, but this smart remark seemed to have had some bitterness mixed in with it.
I don't have a body. I'm not really anything. It's kind of like the way we used to talk to each other, telepathically, only this time, you're the receiver, only there's nothing on the other end.
That doesn't make any sense, retorted Bowman, as he trod the narrow path to the cemetery. Was that his father standing near one of the graves? You're definitely something.
Are you sure?
Stop talking like that. Of course you're something.
If only I was. I really wish things could be as they used to.
Bowman sighed as he approached Hanno Hath. He was crying. Don't we all.
So that's chapter one. As I mentioned before, this is a slow start but things will get more interesting later. Please review so that I know if this is worth continuing.
And for future reference, via reviewing or my poll (visit my profile) or whatever, please tell me if you prefer Kestrel or Bowman…your opinions could change this fic.!