The Ariakan garden shimmered beneath the early afternoon sun. Bees hummed between foxflowers, and the scent of rosemary drifted from the kitchen window where Elise was cooking.
Lytavis sat cross-legged beneath the plum tree, hair braided loose down her back, a book open but unread in her lap. She was still catching up on the sleep she'd missed the night before, her thoughts drifting like the petals on the breeze.
"Found you!"
Tyrande's voice rang out, bright as a bell. She was halfway down the path already, a basket hooked over her arm and mischief in her smile.
Lytavis looked up, amused. "You could have called from the gate."
"I did," Tyrande said cheerfully. "Elise waved me through and told me to fetch you before you start sprouting roots."
"She's not wrong." Lytavis closed the book, patting the grass beside her. "Sit. Tell me everything I've missed."
Tyrande plopped down, skirts spilling over her knees. "Classes. Prayers. Endless memorization. But…" She leaned closer, eyes sparkling. "I'm moving into the Temple next week."
"Already?"
"Shal'nar Drelanim says I'm ready. My parents are nervous, but she promised I'll be safe." Tyrande sighed, twirling a stray lock of hair. "It feels strange. Exciting. But strange."
Lytavis smiled softly. "You'll do well there. You were born for the Temple."
Tyrande brightened, then added, "And I have a date. With Theridan Morningstar."
Lytavis blinked. "The one with the perfect hair?"
"The very same." Tyrande grinned. "He asked me after class. I nearly dropped my scrolls."
Lytavis laughed. "Romance at the Temple gates. You're doomed."
Tyrande swatted her arm. "Don't mock. What about you?"
Lytavis leaned back against the tree, a faint smile curling her lips. "I delivered my first baby last night."
Tyrande's eyes widened. "Already? How did it go?"
"Beautifully," Lytavis said. "Healthy baby girl. I also intentionally singed half a man's beard off with Arcane Blast, so it was a balanced evening."
Tyrande gasped and clapped a hand over her mouth, then burst into helpless laughter. "Lytavis! You didn't!"
"He tried to attack me," Lytavis said mildly. "He's lucky I have good aim."
"Elune preserve us," Tyrande tried to look scandalized, failed utterly, and started to laugh. "You are chaos in soft shoes."
Lytavis smiled. "And I had dinner with Jace Tisserand."
That stopped Tyrande's laughter cold. "Oh."
"Nothing dramatic," Lytavis said gently. "He's kind. Thoughtful."
"And he's attractive," she said after a beat, then added quickly, "But Theridan has better hair."
"I know that, too."
They sat together in the dappled light for a moment, listening to Skye croak disapproval from the plum tree.
"He's asked me out again tomorrow," Lytavis added. "I said yes."
Tyrande looked down at the grass, then up at her friend. "Then wear the plum dress. The one that makes you look like dusk."
Lytavis smiled. "I wore the plum dress last night."
Tyrande gave her a look. "I don't think Jace would notice if you wore battle armor."
"Probably not," Lytavis said, amused.
Tyrande hesitated, then smiled, just a touch wistful. "Then you'd better get more sleep. You've got the world to deliver and someone to meet it with."
They sat together under the plum tree, the breeze stirring the leaves above them, their laughter fading into the quiet hum of afternoon. For a while, everything was simple again - two girls in a sunlit garden, dreaming about what might come next.
Notes in the Margin - Lucien Ariakan
They speak of the world as though it will always wait for them. Perhaps it will, for a time. I listen to their laughter and hear the first notes of change - soft, inevitable.
Tyrande glows with new devotion; my daughter glows with her own strength. She is becoming what I always hoped: a woman who meets danger with light in her hands and laughter on her lips.
But still, when she smiles like this, I see the child who once tried to heal a bird's broken wing with bandages and prayer. And I am reminded that even the surest heart can surprise you with how quickly it grows.