There was an odd soup of feelings at the pit of his stomach, hidden underneath the teachings of Surak and his vacant expression, when Remun T’Lauk stepped out of the shuttle and his shoes hit the cobblestones of T’Paal.
It was hot, as it always was on Vulcan this time of the day. The red sky stretched endlessly above Remun’s head as he followed the stream of people that spilled out of the shuttle and into the city. Like most other persons, he was dressed in traditional Vulcan robes, closed up all the way to his neck and hands. With his arrow straight posture and his combed hair, he looked perfectly Vulcan - aside from the obvious fact that his skin was green and covered in freckles and his ears were too round.
Remun’s parents weren’t waiting for him at the shuttle airport. They found that logically Remun should be able to find his way through the city to their house. And he did, though some of the steps he took were unsure and hesitant.
T’Paal, the city of his childhood, had changed during his absence. New houses had been built. New streets. He had to look at a few roads twice before he could shake off the feeling of being lost. And even when he did recognise his surroundings, the feeling of lostness never quite went away completely. It was illogical, but true.
Remun was grateful for the fact that most Vulcans on these streets kept to themselves. There was the occasional side eyed look or glance, but Remun went by relatively unobserved. At least something. He wasn’t a child anymore, no curious children’s eyes could still shake him or put him off.
And finally, he arrived. The house lay tucked between two other buildings, made of red and beige stone. As a child, Remun had always found it to be gigantic, reaching up into the sky. Nowadays, it seemed oddly small to him.
He went to the door that was made of black wood and put his hand on the keypad next to it. The computer still recognised his fingerprints, even after all this time. Remun entered.
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