I still talk to you (when I'm screaming at the sky)

The thought had been lingering with her for a few weeks now. It was easy to understand where it had come from, with the recent events that had caused such haunting scenarios to plague her mind for the past few weeks.

Winter had just begun in Ketterdam and so had Inej’s stay in the city. This was the time when the sea would be calmest -- no mercher or slaver in their right mind would dare to cross the frozen True Sea during the season, and the few who tried usually ended up at  the bottom of the ocean. It was the perfect time for Inej and her crew to lay low, gather information, do repairs on her ship, gather supplies and, of course, allow themselves a little break for the next month or so.

A week had passed since her return and her time had mostly been spent at berth twenty-two, making sure everything that needed to be done was on track. By now, only a few had remained on the ship— the rest had found a place to stay either with their families or friends, or at a boarding house where they could enjoy the pleasures the Barrel would offer.

Her days were consumed dealing with damage control -- keeping track of what needed to be fixed or  replaced, barking orders to the crew, getting her hands dirty along with them to make sure everything was taken care of. It was only when the moon hung high and the docks began to welcome the gangs and the lowlifes that she knew it was time to go back to the Slat.

Back to Kaz.

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I know better (but I still feel you all around)

The farm is almost too quiet at this time of the day. 

Sunset blooms on the horizon, painting the sky with an amber glow on a summer evening—an invitation for the cicadas and crickets around the farmhouse to dutifully begin their nightly serenades. All the windows are open, allowing the cool air, along with the smell of flowers and grass, to permeate the interior as he waits for her arrival.

The evening is quiet, as expected in this part of town. The farmhouses are far apart from one another, in contrast to the buildings crowded  together in the Barrel, and it’s a welcome change of scenery—having space is a luxury that not many in Ketterdam have the pleasure of experiencing. Space is the one thing people do have in the south.

It's a far cry from what Kaz had grown accustomed to after so many years in Ketterdam: a place where he found peace and quiet during his childhood that now, in his thirties, seems like a distant dream compared to the combination of noises, smells, and sights that only the Barrel could offer.

But that is no longer a problem. Lately, he has relished in the sight of the fields more than expected, as well as the calm and anonymity that only this part of Kerch can offer him. For once, it is nice not to be recognized as Kaz Brekker, Dirtyhands, the Bastard of the Barrel, and the many other names people have come up with over the years for him.

Here he is just a Rietveld, a husband and a father, and that brings him all the peace and quiet he needs.

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