For the next two weeks Epifany continued to battle the same fears, as Hapak wavered between life and death. He spent most of the time asleep, and developed a severe fever. It was difficult to get him to eat, and he grew pale and bony. When he did wake up, his moods would vary from grumpy to kind to despairing, and sometimes he experienced hallucinations.
Rune's mother, Haza, had sent her to stay with the Akylases as soon as she had learned what had happened, and it was a good thing. Rune was old enough to do most things Epifany had to do, and capable of taking instructions when it came to things she wasn't familiar with. Having her around lightened the load quite a bit for Epifany, whether it was regular household chores, taking care of Viggo, or treating Hapak. Rune's parents and other neighbors came to check on the family regularly, including some who had not shown interest in Miranism, bringing food or other things and asking if they could help. It amazed Epifany the way everyone came together to support them. Sometimes she wondered if her man dying was part of the gods' plan to reach some of these Kharmans. She hoped not, hoped that he could live. But that hope was wearing away like sand in an hourglass as more and more time went by and she watched him wither into a pale representation of the man she knew and loved.
When people came to visit, she sometimes found herself more wearied than refreshed. The looks in their eyes and the sympathetic tones of their voices gave away the fact that they saw her as a widow and her children as fatherless already. She would thank them for anything they brought and just for visiting and would talk with them if they didn't leave right away. But she wished she could just curl up in a ball and hide - hide from them and their burning gaze that saw what she was afraid to face, that she was destitute and had lost a precious part of herself as unexpectedly as she had gained him eight years before.
After two weeks of this slow torture, it was all she could take. Hapak was asleep as usual, and she had sent a tired Rune and little Viggo to bed. She was exhausted herself, but more tea needed to be made for Hapak to have whenever he woke up. If he wakes up, she thought. She went up into the sky room, where some of her herbs were kept in pots, and began picking what she needed. One plant in particular was very rare for their area, as they lived in the colder northern part of Kharma. Hapak had gotten it seven years ago on a trip to Kharma when they both still lived at home with their families. Its beautiful fiery orange flowers had caught his eye in the marketplace of a southern village. He had asked the seller about it, who told him of its powerful healing capabilities, including detoxification and pain relief among other uses, and he knew Epifany would love it. The seller wouldn't take money for it though, saying it was worth more than Hapak had. But he took a liking to Hapak's tunic, of unique Miran design, and accepted it as a fair trade. So Hapak literally gave the shirt off his back for a special gift to bring back to Epifany.
She was 17 then and had known him for almost a year. He was new and exciting and all she thought of, and they spent a lot of time together. Neither of them had spoken directly about it yet, but she knew in her heart that he was her one and only love and that that would never change. When he returned without his favorite tunic and went to see her with a mysterious "bitter fire plant," she sensed that something big was about to change - and not so much a change, but more of a surfacing of something that had been growing for some time.
"'So you want this, the tunic I'm wearing right now. And that'll buy me the plant?'" he had quoted himself as he told her the story. "And he really meant it!" he laughed, tugging on the front of his less favored tunic. She grinned, butterflies rising in her stomach as he leaned back, hands in the grass behind him. They were enjoying the warm day in early spring, sitting in the grass and catching up. "But I think I got a good deal," he continued, "this thing will come in handy."
"Definitely!" she answered, "It's really going to expand my healing abilities. I don't know how to thank you."
He smiled slyly at that but looked off into the distance, and there grew a silence that gave her time to notice her moist palms as his face evolved into seriousness. "Pif?" he asked, still watching the horizon.
"Yeah?" she answered.
"You know, I visited Kharma because I've been feeling restless for a while now," he folded his legs into each other and sat up, picking at the grass as he went on slowly, "like I'm not accomplishing much here. And especially after staying there for a month, I feel like I could do a lot more good there than here. I mean, I'm not doing as much good here as I could do there," he said, awkwardly repeating himself.
Epifany noticed that he too looked nervous. Or maybe he's not nervous, she thought, or maybe he can tell I'm nervous and that's made him nervous.
Before she could figure it out, he picked up the pot and said, "So this plant - it smells like honey, it's beautiful, it's got healing powers--" he looked at her, then back at the plant and mumbled, "Guess it's a lot like you." He snickered and blushed and she blushed too. "Not that I know what you smell like," he rambled, "I mean, for all I know you do smell like honey. But I guess I was referring to you being sweet is all."
She looked at him, a new kind of awkwardness overwhelming her with combined pleasure and terror. He had never spoken such compliments in all the time they'd known each other - particularly the word "beautiful" and comparing her to flowers. She forgot to say "thank you."
"Anyway," he went on, "it's bitter though. So that's different."
"Well that's good to know," she laughed, wiping her palms on her trousers.
He laughed too, setting it aside again, then said, "After a while of being there, there was something bitter about it. I missed my family, my friends, my - well, you mostly. I missed you a lot." He went back to picking grass. "So I was thinking, if the gods want me there - and not just to visit, but to stay - it won't be easy, there'll be some bitterness, but it'll be worth it."
To stay? Her heart sank as she imagined life without him. She had missed him everyday for the past couple months. While he had spent a month at his destination, it had taken another month's worth of total travel time just to get there and back again. She had been wondering if he would choose to live in Kharma, and although she had never really considered living there, she had determined that she would willingly do so if that was his decision. But her fear was that he would go off without taking her with him, that he didn't need her the way she needed him, and that he would forget her, and he - along with the happiest year of her life - would fade into memory. And sure enough, here he was talking about living in Kharma.
"I know you've never said anything about living there," his shaky voice brought her back to the present situation, "and I know it'll mean building a whole new life away from everyone familiar--" he took a deep breath-- "but if you would go with me, it would be a lot easier, and I would still feel like I'm at home."
She lost what little composure she had managed to maintain and burst into tears, throwing her arms around him and, resting her head on his shoulder, said shakily, "I would go anywhere with you."