It took a few ticks of startled staring for Hirem to realize that he was looking at a ghost.
She didn't look like what he imagined a ghost to be, as the woman lacked mist, wraithlike appendages, and a haunted visage that cried out of past torments. Indeed, she looked fairly mundane, appearing to him as just another Benshira woman, familiar to him as the taste of sun upon his brow. But perhaps that was the trick, meant to entice and captivate him with visions of the past, before snuffing out his life in a cruel and deadly trap. Or maybe she wasn't a ghost and instead a figment of his imagination, born out of some deep, recessed memory that he had long forgotten of. He had been suffering from night terrors and hallucinations for the past few years now... perhaps this was just the logical extension of his illness. The third option presented to him was, of the three, the most fanciful: she might just be real.
He had first caught sight of her while heading back into the city from the beach, having just completed his morning run and exercise. Drenched in sweat, he had been hoping to pick up some refreshment from the Zhongjie, his tired eyes scanning the crowd idly, searching for... what, he did not understand. He had been doing that often as of late, letting his mind wander and his gaze tremble and sway until it found something interesting to fixate to. There was little in the real world that he could latch to, for the world he lived in was mundane, drab, and filled with emptiness. He didn't even understand why he bothered with the morning runs anymore, when he was clearly strong enough to handle himself. I am sharpening a blade that's already been to the whetstone, he would think, always shaking his head. At this point, I am training for the sake of training, and that is pure folly.
It was in one of these listless moods that his eyes, filtering past the anonymous blue giants and pale-faced woman, finally fluttered to the most discrete of forms, a small woman whose skin was bronzed by the heat of the desert. That, by itself, was not a curious sight, and he would have glanced away... had he not caught a look of her eyes. Bright as a gemstone, he had remarked, the breath leaving his lungs and the heart stopping in his chest, and worth more than all the gold in the world. This woman was no mere Eyktolian... those eyes belonged to the Benshira, and were of Yahebah more than even his own. A Benshira outside of Eyktol? That is... that is... inconceivable. Hirem was no fool, and knew that his people drifted far and away from the reset when they were of a mind. This wasn't even the first Benshira he had encountered since originally arriving in Riverfall in the spring. But they were very rare, and very unsuited to this place that brimmed with life. Benshira are the wellsprings of creation, and from them life flows outward and changes the hostile world. Riverfall, by contrast, is already teeming with life, and so we are instead dwarfed by the majesty already present here.
He must have looked like quite a fool, stopping by the side of the street and staring obviously at this newcomer to the city. His mind was trying to comprehend her existence, shut out memories of the desert that were already flooding back - and snuff out the sudden desire to run that overcame him. I must be away before she sees me! He thought, feeling panic begin to radiate from his heart. She will look at me, and stare at me, and then the holy word of Yahal will come spilling forth from those lips and she was condemn me! I have no wish to sleep with the adder tonight! And try as he might, memories from his years in Yahebah did come stirring to mind... memories of the stones that pelted his back as he fled from the city, of the foul insults lavished upon him and his family from sternly-minded mothers, of the fearsome threats delivered to him by his former comrades. His fists clenched without reason to, and his teeth ground together as the sight of this unwelcome blight from the past.
I will not run from my past. Only a coward would do that, and I am no coward. I will take my history and meet it head-on, and laugh in the face of my so-called 'exile'.
"Falim," Hirem announced in Shiber as he approached the girl, reaching out and placing a hand on her shoulder. "It is good to see another Benshira in the city," he lied, "for it has been too long since I've seen the eyes of our people reflected back at me! Pleasure to meet you. My name is Hirem." His tongue wished to add, "from the tents of Alachi, of the sons of Rapa", but the customary greeting no longer tasted sweet in his mouth. Such old and incomprehensible trash. Why bother? "You look lost. Are you trying to find something? I can help you, if that is the case."