If nothing else, just being on a train actually helped her. Most of Tara’s thoughts when she looked out at the snow regarded how that girl’s parents had seen Sólstaður—a cold place with people who only showed hospitality because they were asked or forced to. She knew Sólstaður has changed since then—they didn’t have quite enough natural resources to shut themselves away from the other islands and still thrive—but it tainted her view of it a little bit. She couldn’t appreciate it as much as she wanted to.
She had to admire that Hannah entertained conversation whenever Matteo started one; Tara herself tried to participate, but could rarely find the words until the topic shifted. Whether or not Hannah’s contributions were meaningful depended on the topic—she was more interested in things about Sólstaður than comparisons to Dakari, although it made sense considering her history.
Tara barely noticed that time passed, alternating between drawing, staring out the window, and recalling memories she couldn’t fully call hers. Even Dakari’s worst blizzard would look meager compared to the pure white of any scenery away from towns—she wondered if Sólstaður was unnaturally cold, or if Dakari was unnaturally warm. She was inclined to believe the former.
Eventually, Hannah reached over to what she packed and pulled out a little bag. Tara kept drawing, only half-noticing the woman offering something to Matteo. She only stopped when Hannah gently tossed a piece of candy onto her sketchbook.
The woman chuckled at Tara’s slight confusion.
“Ly bought more candies than she could eat when she last went shopping,” Hannah explained. “I’m not much of a sweets person and the only member of my crew that might want them is out of town. Go ahead and eat however much you want; we can’t get a real meal until the train stops, so it’ll stave off hunger.”
Tara and Matteo both murmured some thanks, although she took a little longer to unwrap it.
“I didn’t even think about eating,” Matteo admitted once he finished. Hannah left the bag in between her and him, so he casually got another piece of candy out. Tara was satisfied with just one for now. “Dakari trains usually serve their passengers on longer rides.”
“Only fancy trains get that here,” Hannah said. With her candy distribution done, she leaned back in her seat again. “Most people bring their own snacks; as long as it’s not a nuisance to the staff or other passengers, it’s allowed.”
Matteo nodded as his contribution to the conversation, otherwise falling silent to continue reading. Tara, for her part, went back to drawing—each little line or long stroke came together to form familiar patterns and shapes. Maybe she should try a little more to draw something other than her usual fixations. It would be hard without any references though, either photos or good scenery that wasn’t all white.
She startled a bit when Hannah spoke up, using a curious and oddly gentle tone she seemed to have mastered.
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“What’re you drawing?”
Her first instinct was to pull the sketchbook out of view, and she earned a chuckle in response. Tara checked just to make sure it wasn’t anything mildly concerning—sinking ships and the like—before turning the book over so Hannah could see. It only took a few seconds of squinting for Hannah to recognize it.
“A first island shrine?”
Tara murmured some agreement; the topic made Matteo look over and he gave her a curious look.
“That’s the place we went to earlier,” he noticed. “You weren’t exactly happy to be there—is something about it bothering you?”
“It’s just been on my mind.”
Everything she could recall about the first island—the trees, the people, the buildings—were actually from Dakari, with a few exceptions. She didn’t see how she could create a nation based on memories she didn’t really have. A girl that young wouldn’t have paid much attention to the world around her—Tara didn’t, at least, although the circumstances and reasons why were different.
Matteo seemed to understand, at least partially, and didn’t press for any details. Hannah stayed silent for a little while longer while Tara moved her sketchbook back on her lap to continue drawing.
“Where’d you go to see one?” Hannah asked, mostly looking at Matteo. Her tone held a kind of cautious nostalgia that even she might not understand.
“West of San Asari,” Matteo replied. “It used to be Komatsu territory, but I think his granddaughter has it now. Do you recognize it?”
“My hometown—which I can barely remember, for the record, so don’t get too question-happy—had one,” Hannah explained. “My parents even made offerings to Aimiki and Itoki.”
“I didn’t think anyone really believed in the first island’s gods,” Tara noted. People may believe in its resurrection, but not the gods that ruled it; otherwise, they would acknowledge that Aimiki and Itoki hadn’t wanted it either. Itzun said they’ve been in mourning since the first island fell.
“I can’t claim to know their reasoning,” Hannah said, shrugging a little. “They once told me they met at a shrine—I think that’s why. Both of them had heritage from the first island, though.”
“My parents were the same,” Tara murmured. “That’s a large reason why we had to travel.”
Hannah gave her a sympathetic—maybe even empathetic—look. Then again, she knew a part of the story.
“Do you know much about them?”
Tara looked down at her drawing and sighed.
“Not even their names.”
The woman’s expression shifted into something a little deeper.
“You said you were traveling for your parents, right?”
Matteo stayed silent—most likely to make sure whatever they said would be something Tara was comfortable with. She took a few seconds to decide on a reasonable half-truth she knew she could maintain if asked.
“There are…certain things I need to do, as the last alive.”
Hannah murmured some kind of agreement, understanding if nothing else.
“I know that sucks from experience,” Hannah sympathized. “So hopefully it goes well for you. Worst case scenario, I can just take you guys home with nothing to show for it.”
She couldn’t bring herself to agree, but she knew Hannah meant well. The conversation ended there, marked by a brief pause before Matteo attempted to bring up something else. Tara used it as background noise for another drawing, trying to keep the strokes from resembling any of her usual subjects.