Next to her was Joule, the other child Kira had rescued.
They weren’t alone. Devon, someone she suspected was the son of the Tuann Emperor and another she’d saved at one time or another, accompanied them.
Lastly was Rheya, who with Joule and Devon, had participated in theuhva na, the Trial of the Broken, with Kira shortly before she left Ta Sa’Riel.
"Ziva, I'm not sure Kira would appreciate you calling her that," Joule chided.
Ziva harrumphed. "What would you know? Myseon'yeris not like all these others."
This time it was Kira's turn to choke.
"Is that so? Tell us what yourseon'yeris like, little sister," Rheya teased.
Ziva rose to the challenge. "She's wise and fierce. No one is as devious or good at fighting as she is."
Jin shook in silent laughter against Kira's neck.
She slapped one hand over his body, hoping no one had noticed the movement.
"That description is rather accurate," Devon observed.
Kira stiffened. "I'm not devious."
"That's the part you take umbrage with?"
"I'm not," she muttered.
"Uh-huh."
Finn had turned into a statue at her side, staring rigidly into empty space.
Kira grabbed his arm, shuffling him forward. Picking a seat at random, one thankfully in the far corner of the craft and as far from the door as possible, Kira shoved Finn into it before taking the one right beside him.
Only once seated did she force herself to relax, stretching her feet out as she pulled her hood forward to shield her face. She fiddled with it. Only when she felt it was secure enough did she chance a furtive look at the others.
With the exception of Ziva, they were all apprentices in service to their ownseon'yers.
Devon was the tallest of the four, his height approaching Graydon's. Dressed in a matte black armor, he was a smaller, less muscular version of the Emperor's Face.
Though much younger than Graydon, Kira had a feeling it was only a matter of time before Devon bulked up, rivaling the other man in terms of size.
With yellow eyes that always reminded Kira of daisies, Devon observed Ziva with an amusement that had been lacking the last time she'd met him.
Kira remembered another set of eyes that looked exactly like those, the former owner of which was currently hiding in her hair, completely oblivious to the resemblance.
Beside Devon, Rheya had one hand propped on her hip as she teased the small girl in front of her.
The youngest of the four, Ziva could be mistaken for an eight-year-old child—though her true age was likely around thirty years.
Because of her white-blond hair and deep blue eyes, people tended to underestimate her, never realizing the fierce heart that lay within.
Though young, Kira had a feeling Ziva would be a force to be reckoned with in a decade or two.
She was a scrapper, disregarding her limits, more than willing to come out swinging no matter the opponent.
Kira couldn't help but admire someone who possessed that sort of stubbornness. They were the ones who held the power to change the universe because they didn't pay attention to what was but rather devoted their attention to what should be.
The final person in the party was also the one who'd spent the most time at Kira's side.
