TImestamp: 45th of Fall, 522 A.V.
Tazrae found it in the last place she’d ever thought to look. The small magical token had slipped down between the headboard and the mattress and was resting on the wooden slats that supported her feather mattress. Taz would have never thought to look there save for the fact that she dropped something else on the bed – a hairpin – and in fishing, for that, she’d discovered the coin. She’d forgotten about the Homefinder and what it could do. She remembered, with clarity, that it had been the only thing in her pocket when the chest at The Protea had swallowed her whole.
The Homefinder Token was her ticket to freedom.
She carefully lifted it up so it caught the light. Tarnished, and worn, it looked like a whole lot of nothing. But Tazrae remembered Talia’s words about how powerful the tokens could be, especially if charged. And she’d had the sharpness of mind to ask the librarian what that exactly meant. Meditation, Talia had answered. Taz had to meditate on what she considered home and lock that into the token’s awareness to charge it to a place of security she could go to. It could have been anywhere in the world that she had personally visited. And while Tazrae hadn’t visited a lot of places, there was only one place she could safely consider ‘home’.
Garden Beach. It should have been The Protea or even Syka itself. But Taz didn’t resonate with other places as she resonated with Garden Beach. Her little palapa was her sanctuary and her pavilion with its enormous bed and the green wing-backed chair embroidered with living things was hers and hers alone. Her clothing was there. Her weapons were there. Everything she physically owned in the world was there.
She started small, deciding that there was nothing to be lost charging the item. Now, it was done so that it couldn’t be taken away from her and all her last hopes for freedom as well. She took the token between her finger and thumb and began to quiet her mind. She sank deeply into herself. She pulled her djed around her like a warm blanket, not tapping it, just existing within the pool inside her. Then, with the token clutched securely in her hand, Tazrae thought of home.
Garden Beach was a safe haven and a comfortable place Tazrae could find peace within. It was an area of comfort that she shared with her family. It was the place where all her dreams had started. It was where she started to build memories and a future worth living. Truth be told, Garden Beach was something she valued above all else because there she could be herself. It was where her ideas and attitudes were governed by her wants and desires, and the world was molded to fit her needs.
Surprisingly, Tazrae’s home was no fortress. It held no protection from the environment other than a roof and walls that could be raised or lowered depending on the weather. She needed a lack of walls, a lack of boundaries, and the illusion of infinite space. Her floor was solid hardwood planks of enormous size that reminded her of walking through time. Lars had told her that each ring of a tree represented a year of growth. The trees recorded their lives in their very flesh. She recorded her life by the scars on her body and the lines on her face. They were no huge differences between them, Tazrae had decided early on. She could actually feel the sun-warmed wood under her toes as she padded barefoot across its glossy surface. There were rugs, but they were centered under her bed and under her enormous wing-backed chair.
