Pressed by readers to follow-up on the series' couple, I put together a story that puts them up against another obstacle: a third wheel. Unlike the first three stories, this story is written from Fafa's perspective. The epilogue is Dera's POV on the final chapter.

Characters
All original characters (main characters Dera, Fafa, other hara and harlings), with concepts, vocabulary, etc., borrowed from Storm Constantine.

Spoilers
Obviously the previous stories, Deliverance, Obstacle Course, and Ripening Fruit. No spoilers for any specific book in the Wraeththu trilogy, but it is imagined that this entire storyline takes place after the Ascension. There are still original incepted hara, but Wraeththu civilization has stablized.

Chapter 1

I closed the door and heaved a sigh of relief. My workroom was empty and it seemed I would be afforded at least a couple of hours time to get back to work.

My orders were falling behind and the cabinets and counters were slipping into a state of disarray. Managing my business was providing more difficult than I had imagined.

It wasn't simply the volume of business or the fact that Ilafa was on vacation. No, the problem I faced was one of timing.

First, my little Adelna was in the middle of his Feybraiha. Just as with Ilafa and all my sons, I'd been spending hours taking care of him, offering whatever comforts his tormented body desired -- medicinal teas, salves, baths, massages. That afternoon had been particularly hard on him and I'd spent an hour simply forcing him to stop scratching at himself and then another hour getting him undressed and settling him into a bath. By the time I was through, not only was he almost asleep, but so was I.

I hadn't been able to rest, however, because afterward, when I went by Dera's workroom, I caught him listing on his chair, half-asleep. Our pearl was only two weeks along, but already I could see that his energy was being drained. I personally had no such troubles during my hostings but as with his first time, Dera seemed to be having difficulty coping with the particular demands of the pearl.

Telling him to give up work, I had carried him outside to a hammock under the trees and told him to have a nap. We'd shared breath for just a moment and I'd given him what must have been the last of my remaining strength, for afterward, as I rose to go, I was feeling even more exhausted. I had almost gone for a nap but I had my business to tend to.

I took a seat on my stool and pulled over my in box to see what orders had arrived. There were two orders for medicines that could be prepared that day and I laid these aside. It was then that I saw it.

A letter, apparently dropped off by our housekeeper while I was attending my wards.

A beige envelope with my name on it, and not just my name, but my full name, the name I never used.

Not anymore.

Fafara Dishtana Radanash.

With trembling hands, I picked up the letter. My name... in familiar handwriting. It was-- Oh, no, it couldn't be! But it was--

I slid a long nail under the seal and opened it with almost scientific caution. Inside, a folded piece of paper. I took it between my fingers and pulled it out.

I opened it and turned the words to face me. As soon as I saw the endearment, let alone the first line, I knew my plans of working that afternoon were through.

Fafarandash,

It is I, Tishrana. I'm sure you never thought you would hear from me again. You thought me dead. I was not.

Please, do not be angry with me. Do not be hurt that I am only now telling you. My absence has surely been a matter of supreme difficulty for you.

I am presently in our old hometown, Ferenga. I came here as soon as I was able and once again beheld our beautiful sons. I regret that I was not able to be a parent to them.

Immediately I asked for you. I was told you had moved away years ago and begun a new life with a new partner. I will be spending a week here in Ferenga and then I will arrive in Delia with your son Ilafa and our grandson -- to think we have a grandson! -- Ilam.

All will be explained to you. Do not believe that I wanted to be parted. I did not! I pray you will be willing to hear my story.

With the love you always knew,
Tishrana

Never in my life, except perhaps at the moment of what I had thought was Tishrana's death, had I been so shocked. My brain processed the words but for a few moments they were mere symbols, devoid of meaning. I stared at the paper, waiting for my emotions to kick back in. What did I feel? What did it mean?

Suddenly I felt it. The power and pain of memory rolled over me like a giant ocean wave, and I felt myself pulled under.

There I stood, at the edge of the canyon that seemed to have no bottom. Overheard a heavy rain fell and the ground beneath my feet was washing away -- just like the ground that had once been beneath Tishrana's feet. That ground was gone, gone down the cliffside, and the canyon had grown wider.

Tishrana was dead, swallowed by the forces of the wild earth, so enormous and so lacking in compassion. He had been walking in front of me on our way back to our camp when suddenly I saw him fall, fall so quickly and so far I did not see where he landed. I heard him scream and I felt his soul cry out to me. Then there was silence. He was gone.

I stared at the letter, life rushing back, my heart beating, my lungs breathing. He was alive. He was coming to see me. What on earth was I going to do?