Tara hadn’t seen Itzun since the day she hid. She wondered if he found it boring that she finally told someone her fears—now that she understood them a bit better, but gained new ones. He didn’t have anything left to say to her; for better or worse, he couldn’t be vague about her ‘purpose’ because she understood what it was now.
Everyone else seemed…oddly at ease with the information; Tara, now worrying about the things she couldn’t remember, was the exception. Nothing changed, really—no one treated her or anyone else differently. She…had a hard time believing it, admittedly. Things felt more normal now than they had her entire life, despite her not being human nor omyn and it being confirmed among the four of them.
July ended with precious few events and August began with early preparations for Adelinde’s birthday. Typically, Rene chose some location or scenic train ride to take Adelinde on, and the two spent two or three days away; this year, Rene opted to make all four of them—five, if Mark could come—take a trip together. The surprise would be in the duration and place, but considering her smile Tara assumed it was somewhere that the couple had a connection to.
Rene made due on a few promises—of helping Tara overcome her fear of the rain, especially now that they knew the cause, and of teaching her basic self defense. Adelinde assisted in the former on most days, simply by inviting Tara to go out with her in light rain or encouraging her to watch it fall from inside the house. Tara found that the sound and feeling of it bothered her more than seeing it; they used that as a starting point.
It rained lightly enough that Rene went outside without putting on a jacket; Tara, meanwhile, stood at the door with as much protection as she could think of. Adelinde watched from inside as Rene gestured for Tara to come a bit closer.
“Rain alone can’t hurt you,” Rene reasoned. Tara still hesitated, and she offered a kind smile. “Hold out your hand, at least?”
Tara nodded after a moment. She put out her hand to let a few raindrops fall on it; just one made her shiver.
Still, not immediately freezing at the touch of it did give her some kind of bravery to step forward. Taking out the umbrella Adelinde gave her and opening it, she took a few cautious steps towards Rene. After a full minute or two—far longer than it should have taken, really—she reached Rene and received a little pat on the head in response.
“You’re definitely getting better,” she said nicely. “But that can be it for now; it’s not a lot of practice, but it’s progress.”
Tara murmured some agreement, and they walked back inside together. Tara closed and sat aside the umbrella as Adelinde instructed, then took off her jacket and put it near the front door. When she returned to the music room, she sat down next to Rene and across from Adelinde.
“You did well,” Adelinde told Tara with a little smile. “You might be able to come with me to the music district or conservatory one drizzly day soon.”
“Maybe.” She didn’t want to get their hopes up, even if she saw her own improvement and felt a kind of relief from it.
They fell into a bit of silence, and once again Tara remembered the situation—the reason why she feared rain in the first place, and how she came to be here. She took a little breath, deciding to ask just to confirm before she let herself doubt it—before Itzun could notice, make her sleep, and tell her to doubt it.
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“Are you two…really okay with this?” Tara asked. Realizing the phrasing might be a bit vague—despite Adelinde and Rene’s looks implying they understood—she continued, “I… I’m really not normal. My ‘purpose’ isn’t with you; it’s to eventually lead a nation, should it ever be created.”
Rene shifted her position so she faced Tara, and gave a firm but kind response.
“Whatever you were before, you’ve still spent the last twelve years with us,” Rene pointed out. “It doesn’t change the fact that you’ve spent this long as ‘Tara’—our daughter.”
“Doesn’t it bother you?” Tara maintained, looking at both of them. “I thought this would be a reminder—of Adelinde’s earliest troubles, of Rene’s past.”
“I don’t see a reason to change,” Adelinde admitted. “True, it’s possible I haven’t fully processed it yet, but regardless I agree with Rene. Nothing can convince me to leave you at this point; we will be there to support you for however long you need.”
Hearing it reassured her, and she managed a little smile in response. She didn’t think it would be the end of her doubts, but for now she felt assured.
Someone came in the door, and a few seconds later Matteo poked his head in and looked at Rene.
“I checked the station for you,” he said. As Adelinde’s biological child, he was Rene’s co-conspirator in a sense—Matteo handled any preparations that Rene couldn’t, either by way of having more free time or arguing his way into playing a role in his mother’s birthday celebrations.
“Do the trains run at the right time?” Rene asked.
“They do.” More quietly—or perhaps completely silently, and he just mouthed the words—he added, “Grandmother’s hometown, right?”
Rene nodded in response, and Matteo smiled. Adelinde, likely aware of the attempt at secrecy and entertaining it best she could, pretended not to notice. Tara wouldn’t be surprised if she guessed based solely on Rene’s expression.
“Want me to get tickets?” Matteo asked. After Rene murmured an agreement and some thanks, he glanced at Tara. “It’s not raining that much if you want to come with?”
She considered it. He was…trying harder to actually connect with her now; she couldn’t tell if it was coincidence, pity, or genuine attempt at forming a bond.
Tara looked to see Adelinde and Rene’s reactions to the request, and both gave her reassuring smiles in response. Hesitating another second, she stood.
“It might be slow,” Tara warned.
“I’m not in a rush,” Matteo replied, smiling a bit as well. “Some practical experience might help if you’re trying to stop being scared of weather.”
She murmured quiet agreement, and Matteo patiently waited for her to collect her jacket and umbrella. When they left and walked to the train station, no one judged her for being overdressed—no one really looked at her. After moving past the initial fear, Tara almost enjoyed the walk—even if she was put on edge by the light raindrops around her, still able to vaguely recall the crash of thunder and the darkness afterwards.
Strange how such normalcy only came after admitting the oddities, but she preferred it. She felt more assured now that she ever had—in her role, in her family, everything.
Her only fear was if this life would be taken away in favor of one she couldn’t remember asking for. She couldn’t entirely feel grateful for the ‘second chance’ Itzun gave her when she couldn’t recall the people she lost, couldn’t understand the exact situation that would have led her to chose that path in the first place. She wondered if she—or who she once was, at any rate—would have made that choice if she was told she might need to leave whatever life she made for herself behind when and if the new nation was created.