---Goodbye---

---Waqa'arc's perspective---

I stand on a perch on the balcony of my new home, above a [306m] vertical drop to the plains that lie beyond the city and the three cobalt blue moons that hang in the evening sky over the Eastern horizon.

I breathe deeply through my nostrils for the nostalgic scent of my homeworld.

After spending so long away, it feels good to finally be back on R'qal… everything is exactly as it was when I left…

Except it isn't… is it?

Everything may look the same, smell the same, sound the same as before… but it doesn't feel the same to me…

Of course, I've had two years of experiences voyaging the stars in the interim, I'm living in a new apartment in a district of the city I rarely visited prior to my journey, I'm engaged in a new occupation that I would have balked at [2 years] ago, I've incinerated my prior network of allies and am yet to properly establish myself in this new circle of deathworld advocation that I find myself in…

It's not really my homeworld to blame for the difference in how I'm perceiving it, is it?… It's me, isn't it… I'm simply not the same woman I was when I left and, of course, a different woman will perceive the same stimuli differently, won't she?

I briefly consider whether I want to be that woman again, whether being so would bring me any happiness, before deciding that I truly don't!

Of all the things the me that existed before was, the one thing she wasn't was 'happy'…

I sigh.

I don't recall feeling quite so… lost as this since I was a girl…

My daughter's death was different; It was desolating but it was also galvanising! It filled me with drive! With purpose! With righteous anger!

Even if those feelings were false, having them felt better than not having them.

Right now I feel… more…? More what?

Adrift? Isolated? Grounded?

Yes… That's it…

I feel as if my flight feathers had been clipped and I had been left on a deserted island with no hope of escape…

No… that's not quite right…? There would be fear and anger in that scenario, wouldn't there?… Not this… emptiness… weariness… numbness… this utter lack of feeling!

This is far more like my recollection of the anxiety that came with striking out from Castle Highspire for the first time, more than [200 years] ago now, at [16]… only without the nervous excitement that accompanied that experience.

Before my mind has caught up to why, my feet have left the perch as I hop down to the balcony and make my way inside.

I approach Akrat in the kitchen where he's in the process of preparing fruit for our dinner tonight.

He turns to me as I draw near.

My left foot reaches to grasp his front as I pull him close to me and enclose him in my wings.

"Oh!" the short, slim and utterly precious Red Cliff boy giggles in surprise as I embrace him and tenderly tap the side of my beak against his "What's this in service of, Waqa'arc?"

"Everything, darling… It's for everything… It's for being here with me… for sticking beside me while I… changed so much from who I was when we bonded… I… don't know if I could have done it without you…"

My lifemate extends his alulae to my sides under my wings (in a fashion that briefly makes the thought of making an egg with him barge its way to the front of my mind!) and chitters "What kind of boy would I be if I didn't stick by my woman through thick and thin, Waqa'arc?… Though, I certainly won't object if you want to start thanking me this way a little more often(!)"

"I'll bear that in mind, my love(!)" I laugh back.

I squeeze him close to me for another few moments.

Then, I suggest "Would you mind if I went to invite the ambassadors here for after we've eaten, darling?"

Akrat's face twists slightly as he frowns "Really…? I don't think the walking extinct likes us very much, Waqa'arc?"

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"'Kor', darling… That or 'Ambassador Marsh'… Terran's prefer their names used where possible." I correct, gently, before adding "And I'm sure he doesn't… I'm sure he feels that his wife has been unfairly snubbed in my favour and I'm sure he doesn't fully trust the veracity of my reform yet. Honestly, Zonzambé-Marsh does a much better job of hiding it than her husband but I'm sure she's also wary of me… That's exactly why I want to invite them here… Socialising with them is the best way to build their trust… What do you say? Can you bring yourself to spend a few [hours] in their company…?"

The cute boy considers, hesitantly, before saying "Alright darling… You can 'thank' me after they've left(!)" raising his wings beneath mind to indicate the kind of 'thanks' he means.

I mock gasp "Ak.rat(?) What would your mother say if she heard you talking like that(!?)" a smile twisting the flesh at the corners of my beak.

"Fortunately, she's not here and you are… Do we have an accord, my lady(?)"

"We have an accord, young man(!)" I chitter in answer.

I release him from the embrace and walk to the front door of our new dwelling, procuring my translator from the shelf by the door and trying to mentally rehearse the most amiable tone in which to utter the phrase 'Ambassadors! Would the two of you care to join my lifemate and I in our home in an [hour] or so?' as I attach it to my skull.

The door slides sideways and I begin turning right to make for our neighbours' door.

As I do, however, I catch sight of him, far below me, in my left eyes.

Noticeable through the scattered people making their way around the interior of this stadial building is one large Terran, heading directly for the bottom of the nearest of the vomitory concourse ramps that line the inside of the building, like spokes on a wheel.

Though still around [700] diagonal [metres] away from me, I'm easily able to see as his green eyes turn up to lock onto my location.

His hand raises into the air in acknowledgement without him breaking his stride.

I turn my beak to the still open door and shout "Akrat…?"

"Yes, Waqa'arc?" his voice returns, attenuated by the walls and distance.

"…change of plans. Could we postpone dinner by [25 minutes] and could you depart for the interim? Mr Taylor is on his way here and it looks like he wants to speak to me."

"Oh… Alright then, Waqa'arc… I suppose I'll take a bag and go shopping for tomorrow?… I'll have my holo with me so let me know if I can come back earlier or need to stay away longer." he answers, sounding mildly bemused.

"Thank you, darling!" I shout back.

I hear the sounds of him putting his half prepared dinner away in the stasisfridge before he hobbles beside me, a fabric bag balled into his left talon.

I pull him close for one more quick beak tap before the slender boy turns and spreads his gorgeously coloured wings to launch himself skyward.

My eyes remain on his iridescent feathers until he's too far to make out the detail of.

I shall certainly enjoy 'thanking' him later(!)

I turn my eyes back to the groundborne man as he climbs the ramp towards me.

He passes through a bright red swarm of Grinitok, emanating from their vivarium as it hovers down the ramp in the other direction.

Even at his brisk pace, it takes around [5 minutes] from the time I first spotted him for him to cover the more than [600m] of horizontal and the slightly over [300m] of vertical distance between us.

He reaches the top of the ramp and turns towards me, not looking the slightest the worse for wear from the exertion.

"Ofc Waqa'arc." states the large man, simply, as he looks down at me.

"CSS Taylor." I answer, just as simply.

"Can I come in?" he asks, gesturing my apartment door.

"Please, Taylor." I cordially invite.

I step inside and the enormous Terran follows after.

He looks briefly around and spots a seat intended for Terran guests before gesturing to it, face unreadable.

"Please have a seat, Taylor… Though I must warn you, Akrat will only be gone for another [20 minutes] or so. I hope that's enough time to say whatever it is you wish to say to me?"

"More 'an enough." he states as he seats himself "I've gotta go about then, anyway, to meet everyone else at the shuttleport. Just thought I'd swing by on my way back from seein' Taqie and his lady friend…" referencing the clanless girl my nephew caused a minor scandal by revealing his affair with, a [year] or so ago.

"And… what did you come to say?" I ask, anxiously, as I hop up onto a perch, facing him.

"I guess… just came to say 'goodbye'?" he shrugs.

"To… me?" I frown.

He scoffs "Naaah(!)… I came to say it to the ambassadors(!) Know I only met 'em for about 30 seconds and didn't share a single word with either of 'em but I really felt we had a connection, you know(!)… Obviously you!"

"But… don't you… despise me?" I point out, confused.

"I did, Waqa'arc… and, not to put too fine a point on it, I really don't think I was actually wrong to! The person you were when we first met was one of the most insuff'rable pieces of work I've ever been unlucky enough to know! You really gave me every reason to think we'd never get on!… Now, though? You're much more tol'rable!"

"Tolerable? High praise(!)" I chitter, mirthfully.

"Considerin' where you started, Waqa'arc; yes! Yes it is!" he answers, seriously "Dunno if I'll ever get to actually likin' you… but, you know, seein' you defend the Twigg and Vrakhand to Parliament, seein' you accept this job, seein' you make the effort to come to Triple M over and over again for the last few months, even if you were an utter wallflower there? I dunno… I guess it's made me see you're really genuine 'bout trynna change?… I can respect that if nothin' else."

"Well… thank you for coming here to tell me so, Taylor." I respond, sincerely "Was there anything else?"

"I guess… just… good luck in the new job…" he gestures vaguely around at the building we're in.

"And good luck on your upcoming nuptials." I smile back at him.

He gives a brief nod and a grunt of approval.

He starts to get up before seeming to realise something, sitting back down and pulling out his holo.

"One more thing, Waqa'arc…" he smirks, flicking a photograph to the surface of a nearby table.

It shows some items of cargo, unnecessarily strapped down to the Loading Bay floor, aboard the Bright Plume.

"You wouldn't happen to be able to tell me if you see any frayed straps in that photo, would you(?)" he asks, much more playfully than before.

Sighing, I examine the picture before pronouncing "The straps have a small amount of superficial wear on them, Taylor… but look more than up to the task of securing the items they're securing… I don't see any fraying."

"I knew it!" he growls in triumph.

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