“Quiet?” Mala laughed. “I hear those pots in the kitchen behind us. . I hear the laugher of those men mending the net. . those children squealing up the beach-and the birds around here can be downright obnoxious.”
Drakis smiled. “That’s not what I mean. I mean the luxury of being quiet. . of just holding still and looking out over the water with someone next to you to share that stillness. To not have to say a word and know that no one needs you to speak because the quiet around you speaks for you.”
Mala leaned toward him, resting her head against his shoulder. “I’ve never known that quiet before here. . it’s painful.”
“Yes, that’s right,” Drakis nodded. “Painful because we never knew it existed and now the thought of losing it is unbearable. Mala, I’m tired of running toward a horizon that is always getting farther away. . tired of pretending to pursue some destiny that isn’t even mine.”
“What are you saying?” Mala asked.
“I’m saying that this. . right here. . is everything that I want or could ever want out of my life.” Drakis reached down and pulled up a handful of the white sand from between his feet. It glittered slightly in the fading rays of the day. “This place. . this peace. I don’t want or need any great destiny that may not be mine to begin with. All I want is this quiet. . right here. . with you.”
“But, the song in your head. . the music that calls you. .”
“It’s still there,” Drakis replied, looking through the narrow passage to the north. The light on the horizon was rapidly fading. “If anything it is stronger than ever, but, Mala, that doesn’t mean I have to follow it. Let it just be a song in my head. . from what Elder Shasa tells me there are plenty of other humans who have heard the song, too, and they didn’t have to go out and become this great prophecy fulfillment either.”
“What are you saying?”
“I’m saying I don’t want to run anymore.” Drakis turned to Mala. “I’m saying I want to stay. . right here with you as my mate or wife or whatever the Sondau call it, bury my sword, have a family of our own, and live a quiet life.”
“I. . I don’t. .” Mala stammered. “Is it possible, Drakis? I mean, we’ve run for so long, and we barely know ourselves who we are. .”
“We can be whoever we choose,” Drakis persisted. “If anything, I’ve learned that over the last months. It doesn’t matter who we were, Mala; we can become who we want to be. We can forget about our past; what we cannot forget, we can forgive and start anew.”
“Can we, Drakis?” Mala said, looking up into his face. “I don’t know. . if people can change. Maybe we’re so broken that we can’t change.”
Drakis smiled down at her. “How will we ever know if we don’t try?”
“It would be wonderful to try,” she replied softly.
An unwelcome shout behind Drakis shattered the moment. “Drakis!”
“It would be him,” Mala said distastefully.
Drakis pushed himself up from the sand and turned toward the voice. “Yes, Ethis, it is me. Now that you have completely ruined my evening, I’m sure you’ve thought of some way to ruin my night as well. What is it?”
The chimerian paused, glanced at Mala rising to stand next to Drakis, and then took in a deep breath.
“Yes,” Drakis urged, “You’ve got my attention. What is it?”
“I. . I thought we might discuss our next move.”
“Our next move?” Drakis responded. “Just what move would that be?”