Arishok Alphabet (Vashedshok): F is for Future
Vashkata sat at the edge of the pier, his feet dangling over the murky water of the harbor. It stank here, reeking of basra and old fish. There was a half-empty bottle of Antivan brandy in his hands. The other half already warmed his stomach and tingled numbly through every limb. It was a bad habit. But it kept him sane.
They had been two years in Kirkwall, confined to wretched quarters not fit for basra habitation let alone Qunari. Two years and they were no closer to finding the relic they were honor-bound to secure and return to Par Vollen. Well...the Arishok was honor-bound. The rest of them were here by proxy. That's how he'd come to understand it anyway.
He tilted back the bottle and practically gulped at the acrid liquid, hoping to eventually numb all his senses if for only a few minutes. Two years. No progress. The Arishok said to be patient. The Arishok said to wait.
"I don't suppose you have your wits about you."
Under normal circumstances, Vashkata would have sensed an approaching cat long before it could rub against his leg. As it was, he'd no idea there was even a kossith beside him until he spoke, and the surprise nearly dropped him into the water.
"Aqunan! Ah, brother, come and share a drink with me!" He held out the bottle, brandy sloshing hollowly inside.
"Kithshok," the other corrected firmly, taking the bottle and tossing it as far out into the harbor as he could. "Has the poison addled you so far you think us children again?"
"You were aptly named you know," Vashkata went on, his eyes almost sad. It was hard to know if it were a reaction to memory or the glittering bottle of wasted brandy bobbing on the tide. "As constant as the sea."
"In this particular moment, the same cannot be said for you." Kithshok leveled a look at his brother. "A quick-witted Tenethari, I do not see."
Vashkata snorted, a smile coming to his face at last. He reached up and clamped a hand to Kithshok's shoulder. "Too true, too true." But his tone immediately sobered. "It is this...place. The longer we remain, the duller my senses become."
"And you know why we stay."
"We stay for the future of the antaam, for the future of all Qunari." His eyes narrowed a little. "We stay for a book...one that I'm certain has been copied in whole or in part dozens of times by thousands of imekari."
Kithshok stiffened. "You say that as if its purpose was not something--"
"Don't lecture me like an old tamassran." Vashkata went to reach for a brandy bottle that was no longer there. He sighed. "I merely worry that all this waiting is...dangerous. We should have cleansed this place when we arrived. The taint is palpable."
"You drank a good bit of it voluntarily just now." The tone was serious but eyes twinkled with no small bit of mirth. "Peace, brother." Kithshok got to his feet and dusted himself off. "I need to return to my post, but you should know that there is nothing to worry about. Victory is in the Qun."
Vashkata nodded shallowly and watched the other kossith's retreating form even long after he vanished into the crowd of dockhands. But for how much longer, brother, he wondered to himself. For how much longer?
