Neither of them spoke on the walk home. Rama carried their sleeping daughter against his shoulder, Larasati's mother having watched her through the reception's final hour, and the quiet of the streets after dark felt considerably louder than it should have, every step landing heavier than the last.
Sekar waited until their daughter was settled and the door closed behind them before she finally let the question out.
"Did he mean what I think he meant?"
"I don't know what else 'a flame that does not yet burn' could mean." Rama lowered himself onto the room's single wooden stool, exhaustion pulling at him in a way training and combat rarely managed anymore. "Sekar, he described exactly what we found in my quest log. Word for word, almost."
