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Kaus, Ceran, and Indric had only agreed to venture out of the Citadel once Asallon agreed to stay back with Kala. She and the sorcerer had agreed to sit at opposite sides of the small garden so they could each read their books, pretend to be alone, but still keep an eye on each other. The Avialae boys would be a novelty in Solunarium, but they had less to hide than Kala herself. Even so, they were accompanied by Sentinels, at least one of which was an Assessor who would prevent arcane delving into their thoughts. Asallon sat on a bench, purporting to read a book of Names supplied by their hosts, though Kala suspected between its leaves was some local pulp fiction. She was perusing the Radiant Chronicle, trying to better understand her desert cousins. That was, after all, the greatest reason she had come.
Of course, Phocion had invited her to his homeland when she had played the diplomat in Kalzasi. Of course, she wouldn't mind returning to Kalzasi with a trade deal negotiated and requiring only Kalzasern signatories. But to learn the logistics of godhead, to learn how elder Moritasi had attempted, succeeded, and failed at their divine paths—that would be invaluable to her.
She looked up, narrowed pale eyes against the glaring sunlight reflecting off the space between them. Asallon was dozing.
Kala smiled to herself, then let her gaze fall back to the holy scripture she was attempting to read in Vastian, though she had another copy translated into Common beside her. The Sentinels knew much about her, though they didn't know the half of it. To unknowing eyes, she looked like a demure, diminutive, and studious young lady with a strange, far northern complexion. Her Astralarian garb had given way to lighter, more local attire, though she was clearly not Vastian. Her wings were hidden by Torin's marvelous cloak.
All the same, even with that and her own Semblance tuned to show a relatively mundane human woman, she couldn't help but feel eyes upon her, real or imagined.
"‘No matter how great the Hunger, a shared feast better sates the soul.’"