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“I’m not pretty. I have all these freckles and weird hair,” she said with a pout.
“Don’t say that,” Taelen said with a frown, his shock echoing mine. “Your freckles make you unique. And your hair is not weird. You are Sarepani.”
“No. I’m Sarah Mitchell,” the little girl said, confused.
I chuckled. “No, Sarah. Taelen gave you the pet name Sarepani. It means ‘swirls of fire’ in reference to your curly red hair,” I explained gently.
“Oh,” she said, unsure how to take that.
“You’re a very lucky girl,” I added with enthusiasm, realizing she didn’t know if it was a compliment or an insult. “The Syllens usually only give sweet pet names like this to people they like. They call me Shevraya, which means ‘strands of sunlight’ because of my blonde hair.”
“Oooh! That’s very pretty!” Sarah exclaimed, glancing at my hair before grabbing a lock of her curly hair to look it up-close. “I like swirls of fire.”
“As you should,” Taelen said approvingly.
Sarah studied his face, while her mother seemed unsure what to do. I gave her a reassuring smile and discreetly gestured for her to approach further. She relaxed a bit more and complied. Other pedestrians had stopped to witness the interactions, some of them recording the scene on their personal devices.
“Can I touch your tentacles?” Sarah asked with a hopeful expression.
By the amused glimmer in Taelen’s eyes, I knew he was thinking about our conversation about always asking first before touching others. He nodded, and the little girl beamed at him before greedily reaching for one of his leinis.
“Ooh! It’s so soft!” she said wistfully before giving him a surprised look. “And it’s not sticky!”
I gasped, while her mother facepalmed. Taelen snorted while giving her an inquisitive look.
“Why would they be sticky?” he asked with genuine curiosity.
“Squids are sticky and slimy,” she said in a self-evident manner before leaning in and giving a sniff. “And you smell good, too. Not like fish.”
I barked a laugh, before slapping a hand over my mouth. Taelen gaped at her before bursting out laughing.
“Sarah Elizabeth Mitchell!” her mother exclaimed, scandalized.
“Uh oh. Now I’m really in trouble,” Sarah said, glancing at her mother over her shoulder before looking back dejectedly at Taelen.
“Why is that?” he asked, still chuckling.
“Mommy said my full name,” Sarah said with resignation.
“What?” Taelen said, confused as to how that was relevant.
“I’m so sorry, Mr. Syllen,” her mother said, mortified. “She meant no offense. She’s just a child…”
“My name is Taelen,” he corrected gently with a smile. “Do not fret. I took no offense. Younglings are a treasure. They speak of the world as they understand it in their innocence. It is refreshing.”
“Thank you for your understanding,” she said sheepishly. “My daughter wanted to meet one of you in person for so long. I just never thought she’d be this bold.”
“I did!” Sarah said with a firm nod. “When I grow up, I want to marry a Syllen!”
Her words gave me a crazy flashback of myself, back in high school, also obsessed with meeting a Syllen in person.
Taelen laughed. “Really?”
She nodded again before making a sad face.
“But Mommy says it’s not possible, because you’re mad at us. Because the Settlers did bad things to you,” Sarah said with a pout.
My breath caught in my throat at that statement. I had not expected the playful conversation to turn to such a serious topic, especially not with someone this young. Syllens tended to be brutally honest, although not maliciously. As they wouldn’t awaken their dormant children for another week or two, I hadn’t had a chance to see what kind of interactions they had with them. Were they as brutally honest with them?
