The Sun ruled here, even as it did in the Dragon's Throat, but there was something so foreign about this place. On her island home the sands rose and fell in ever-shifting waves. broken by the oasis and the constant movement of bodies; it was as much an ocean as the waters surrounding it, full of all the pulsing, heaving life, all the violence of it. Here all was calm and though there was water and sand, all that she saw was light. The silence, the stillness,  sewn together as seamless and the earth and sky, oh to Asavvi this was paradise.

War. Her mother had told her that even as Asavvi and her brother had been only a stirring in Megaera’s womb, their mother had seen the Sun do battle here. Asavvi did not recall those memories, even though the tickled on the edge of her senses, she willfully shut them out. She had seen war, had stood amidst battlefields that spanned generations. From the first she had seen in the Labyrinth, she called them up again and again, wherever she could find them, trying to understand what her mother and father must know. IT was too much, she didn’t want to see anymore. They said ‘sacrifice’. They said ‘honor’. They said ‘glory’. All Asavvi had seen was pain.

Here in the the flats she could forget that. here she could just stand, surrounded by salt and sky, and wait for the sun to go down. The stars would come out then, the brilliance of the heavenly canvas reflected in the shallow waters. Stars upon start and she would add hers to throng and there, she knew, would be true glory: an angelic anthem of silent light. In the morning she would make her way home again (just because she didn’t always understand her family didn’t mean that she did not love them dearly) but first she would wait. Yes, she would wait.

The star-seeker was content to wait in solitude. The gods only knew where her deep well of patience came from, with all of her blood so action driven, but even from the first Asavvi had never minded waiting. Whatever she waited for would come, she was always assured of that... Or at least what was meant would come to pass, whether it matched her desires or not she would be content to know that to world always had new surprises in store. The lack of company was not a lack at all. As much as she enjoyed being around others it was just exhausting, and a day to herself was like taking a few deep breaths after a long run.

The sing-song salutation graced her ears and had the maid turning, all pleasant smiles even as she heaved a little sigh. Time to start running again. she thought, and immediately chided herself for the ungenerous thought. The interest of the interloper, added the the aforementioned patience, allowed Asavvi to forgive the intrusion almost instantly and she greeted the horse?, bird?, man with her usual deft politeness. 


Turning to face him she gave a little bow of her head to the taller man and spoke in soft tones."Good day, sir! I hope I have not disturbed you. My name is Asavvi of the Dragon's Throat, daughter of The Sunspear and Einarr the Gladiator.” She didn’t think twice of giving her parents names, with no deeds to her name (and little enough ego) they where her customary means of identifying herself. No doubt someday her siblings would have enough notoriety that “twin to Nizho” or “sister of Mordecai” would say enough about who she was.