Arlen Kallem has recently come into possession of a boat. Well, actually he's recently come into possession of a few things, given his mother just died. But most relevantly, he has a boat. And a friend, with whom he can boat. These facts are relevant.
Harin has no objections to boating; he's still in shock, as far as Arlen can tell, which is pretty unreasonable, considering it's been like a week since his dad died, and the guy was a complete asshole. But it does make him conveniently portable and boat-able. Arlen is the skipper and Harin is the something. They are the perfect team.
Even the most perfect team can make dumb mistakes, though. Like drifting farther out to sea than intended. Or not noticing a hurricane brewing. Or being swept across the ocean until they smash onto the far shore. That sort of thing.
Ari, sprawled on the beach, has a pillow; the pillow is a large chunk of rock protruding from the sand. It's such a lovely pillow. Very comfortable. He's going to sleep now. Harin has similar opinions on the subject.
Then he drops back into his previous self - characterized by a quiet, watchful stillness, a lack of unnecessary movements - and adds, "Like that. The real one's back at the beach house if you and your sleepy friend would like to meet him. I should probably take you back there anyway so you don't starve to death out here."
"This is Elannwy. We have different elemental blessings here. Most countries don't have them at all. This," he taps the silver pin on his sleeve, "is complexity. My brother and I have it in common. He's charm/inspiration/complexity; I'm understanding/focus/complexity."
And then the house comes into view. It's a very pretty house, built partly into the side of the hill that stands between it and the ocean. The path that winds around the hill leads straight to the back porch. All the shutters are open, and lace curtains drift back and forth at the prompting of a slight breeze.
Harin shrugs. "He likes a lot of stuff that hurts. And I think some of it he associates with playing with his mum. Which is its own whole issue that I don't need to get into right now. Oh, and she always had the Serlast prime fix his bones when they broke, and they lived nearby, so he was never out of commission more than a few hours any given time unless he was on business or something."
"Mother's coming back this afternoon," he mentions to Arlen and Harin when all this is over with.
"So," Arlen goes on matter-of-factly, "are we just going to be living here or are you declaring us your tall children? Because we're okay with either, really, it's a matter of personal choice, though getting adopted would keep me from marrying Nior when we grow up, which would be a shame."
A couple of days later, Miraen is finally allowed to stand up and walk around again. He celebrates by running up and down the gentle slopes of the hill next to the house.
The day after that, shortly after breakfast with the other children, when Carielle has gone upstairs to read a book, Miraen says abruptly: "Who wants to go exploring?"
"We were talking, and I ended up telling Mir about when Ma taught me to skin a carcass, and- he was kind of a jerk about it, even if he didn't mean to be, and I wished you were there to- to get it. To not get distracted by 'what kind of parent teaches her kid to use a knife,' or 'oh, that's disgusting, you were cutting up a dead animal,' or- or 'why do you act like you loved her, you killed her.'" He swallows. "And I don't even know that one."