Amphitrite

In poetry, Amphitrite's name is often used for the sea, as a synonym of Thalassa.

The dinner ahn upon the city, there was quiet. Crowds had thinned out, as most people had returned to their Arian homes and their Arian families. I stood before a mosaic of Neptune and Amphitrite. Each tile was hand painted, a painstaking process of someones devotion. I can't say how long it held me captivated, or how long it was before I started to drift off in thought, but there I found one of my oldest memories.

We were riding in a wagon, across a vast expanse of grass. Jara held my hand as the sounds of the impending dusk crept up to the caravan. I was cowering in a corner, covered by a thin blanket. Jara sat shirtless, with his back up against my legs. His face had a large burn from temple to jaw, and his hands were peeling and painfully red, there was a pungent odor of salve. Soot and ash coated my throat and dried my eyes, they were gone now, our father's people, dead. We'd been found in a field of high grass, thankfully, by another train of wagons passing by. A midwife, her sister, and her companion carted us off to our last known relative.

The two women were talking back and forth as the wagon rocked, one of them was sewing a leather jerkin. " It is good we found them," the Midwife said. " Are we sure those were the wagons of Khan? ", she looked at us both, her brows knitted, " they do not look like children of the Plains."

The Seamstress put down her work, and also peered over at us. " They are marked, as was Kasim Khan, look at the boys back. "

" Hrmm, " the Midwife continued, a nod as she spoke. Yes, we both had the same port wine marks, as our father before us. " The girl, too?", she questioned the Seamstress significantly.

" Oh yes, both of them, " and she began to sew again. " The boy has so much Storm in him, look at the scowl of his brow, " she said pointing the needle in Jara's direction. I didn't know then, but it was significant. Tuchuk people had a great reverence and fear of storms, particularly those that brought lightning, wind, and rain. " You can almost smell the charge coming off of him, " she nodded as she stitched.

The Midwife began to roll a ball of yarn, " They are not both full of the Storm though, look at the girls eyes, " and she pointed a finger right at me. Jara looked over his shoulder, and squeezed my hand. She continued thoughtfully, " She has the Thassa in her eyes, just look at them, full of all the ghosts on the sandy, kelp ridden, bottom, " then she clucked her tongue against her teeth. " She had better hope to find a companion of Earth or Forest, only the Mountain or the Trees can hold onto that much Water. Rare though. " The Midwife looked upon me as if I were the most pitiful of creatures and finished her thought, " I've never seen that much of the Thassa in one child, no indeed." The woman took a deep breath, " It's a right good thing really, not a burn on her, Water douses Fire, you know."

" Quite the pair, Wrath and Vengeance. It is good we are taking them to Hadas, in Lydius, " the Seamstress spoke of our Aunt with familiarity, " it is the only place where the Ocean and the Storm can live in peace. "

We rode for a while in silence. I can remember looking into Jara's face. I was soothed by the way he patted me, saying nothing, and asking nothing to be said. The Midwife had a matter of fact tone as she finally spoke up, " You know they think that they think Turian's are responsible for the fire, but, funny that they only found one set of boot prints, and someone found a tarn feather, of all things. "

" Hrmm," the Seamstress questioned, " A tarn feather, you say? "

As I walked away from the tiled fresco, a wave of sadness and longing came over me. I cannot say how long it will stay, or whence it came.