Ship In A Bottle

1. The Sign of the Falling Sun (KOSHONI)

"Screams, cheers, they all sound the same. Bloody loud," Koshoni grumbled into her pillow, groaning as the thick curtains of the room she was currently inhabiting were thrown wide open.

"Don't be so morbid," Lakon chided, as he moved to open the beautifully etched windows. The crowds' cries doubled in volume and Koshoni could justify see him wince through the corner of her eye from her place still sprawled on the bed.

He was already dressed, of course, his white shirt pressed so crisp it looked almost uncomfortable to wear. The leather breastplate that adorned it was embroidered with swords and circlets, proudly proclaiming his ability as an omogun, an ironkeeper.

He turned to face her expectantly and she groaned again, burrowing deeper under the thick coverlets and fur blankets as an icy breeze swept in through the open window.

"At least shut the window because of the cold, if not for the sake of my eardrums." And sanity, she added mentally.

"Fine," he conceded. "Good morning." He smiled brightly.

"Nothing good about it," Koshoni snapped, sitting up fully. She rubbed her arms, grateful for the warmth that radiated through the heated mattress. It was... strange to be among such luxury once again. It took her back to a different time.

Lakon gave no reply, simply folding his hands.

She rolled her eyes, the silence dragging out between them like tides of wind. She squirmed internally as her brother waited, as if unbothered by the quiet weight the silence brought.

"Okay, I'm sorry," Koshoni said, caving first as usual. "Mornings have been worse than usual with the—" She waved her hands aggressively and he nodded, sitting on the bed.

"The dreams are still that bad?" His eyebrows were furrowed and he chewed the inside of his cheek. This was exactly what Koshoni didn't want. Her brother had enough to worry about already, managing an army and whatnot

But she wouldn't lie to him. It wouldn't do either of them any good.

"Ha," she scoffed. "I'd hardly call them dreams. They're memories, Lake. And I don't think they're going anywhere."

"Hey, I get it, okay?" he said. And she knew he did. "Plus, it's only been a fortnight."

How could she explain? That his burdens were noble and hers were vanity. That there was a big difference between being on the front lines and completing some trivial challenge for the crown. How could she make him see?

"Sometimes, I just feel like it should have been you who went," she said quietly. "You would have won, you're the strongest omogun in decades. You would have been a great king—"

"No, stop. I would have been a miserable king, you know that. This, where we are now, is where we belong. You deserve the crown. You won even— even—" He searched for the words

"You can say even with being a mundane, it's fine," she laughed.

"Even without the natural advantages others possesed," he said firmly. "The Stake is no small thing and winning the honor to govern our country, that's no small feat."

Koshoni opened her mouth but Lakon wasn't done yet.

"And I know that you did it for dad, for our family. That is no small thing either. As cliche as it sounds, you've restored our honour. You did it."

She forced a smile. Of course she understood the reality. She was next in line for the Odyalan throne. Omokoroweki, a child of the crown. And she climbed and fought and killed to get where she was. She did not feel, completely, inadequate for being a mundane. She knew her worth.