Chapter 43
July 16th - Grythen
The only sounds in Chairon’s sleek red car were the lullaby singing from his stereo, the low rumble of the engine and the patter of drizzle on the car roof.
Both of them were silent.
Is it too late to turn back now and say that I didn’t want to marry Chairon? And that perhaps I don’t want to be with him at all? What happens next? Do we become friends? Or will Annie force me into marrying him?
Jeremy’s haunting words resounded in her head again. What if… what if I spend the rest of my life sleeping beside Chairon with my heart beside Zaelem’s?
Throughout dinner, she had been rehearsing her lines, saving them until they were about to part so that it wouldn’t be so awkward. Chairon, I’m sorry but I honestly don’t feel ready for this and I want to be alone for a while to think things through. Ideally, he would ask if that meant she was breaking up with him and she would say yes and explain that it was more of her fault than his. That she was immature. That what she felt for him wasn’t love.
She rubbed her temples. If only there was a way to do this without hurting an innocent party.
Her eyes slid to the side while she kept her head still, hoping he wouldn’t detect her glancing at him. Why did she even start a relationship with Chairon? Because he treated her very nicely, nicer than any man ever did, and she fell in love with the idea of a sweet romance. He had been the ideal Prince Charming. It finally dawned on her that what she felt was just a sense of obligation. After accepting so much from him, she had been bounded by the need to reciprocate.
Chairon braked the car two metres away from the entrance to her apartment building. He was usually much more precise than that. “Y-you know I love you, right? No matter what happened, I’ve always loved you,” he barely whispered. He looked pale and sallow under the moonlight. With less than four months left to their big day, the prospective groom hung his head when he spoke, as though it was not love he felt, but shame.
Kismette nodded minutely before realising that she was lying. She took in a deep breath, feeling out of place by his silence. He was usually the one who couldn’t stop talking. Perhaps it was better this way-she didn’t have to pretend to be alright before dropping the bomb on him.
She plucked up her courage. ”I- I think maybe we should… talk.” Even if I don’t want to be with Zaelem in the end, at least I do know now that I don’t want to be with you.
Her soon-to-be-ex-fiancé didn’t respond at first. “I’m sorry, Babe, but I’m really tired tonight. Work has been really tough lately,” he rubbed the bridge of his nose. “I promise we will talk another day…”
Kismette opened her mouth and almost protested, but stopped herself at the very last minute. Okay then. I’ll wait until you are ready.
July 19th - Grythen
Evelynn
Evelynn could hardly pull herself out of her bed. She had been feeling tired all the time, but she refused to sleep earlier. It was inefficient to sleep when she should be practising harder. Too much time had been wasted.
Everyone seemed to talking about her behind her back these days. She scowled. Every time she turned behind to look, conversations stopped, but whenever she stopped watching them, the whispering and sniggering resumed. She didn’t hear it-she felt it. She could feel it like a spider crawling up her arm.
People always said, "Be yourself," but they never stopped judging you. What would everyone say now, if they knew what she had done?
July 21st - Grythen
Kismette
Ever since she made the decision to break up, the shackles on her neck came free and she breathed easier. She wanted to talk it through with Chairon in a proper manner to signify the gravity of her resolution, not over a sixty-second phone call, but when tensions at the borders heightened, both the Chief Strategist and the healer had to work harder. They hadn’t met since that day she tried to bring the subject up.
“It is just a matter of time, Pinkie-Brown.” She sprawled on her bed and let her breath out slowly in assurance. Almost everyone around her commented that she was childish and she had every intention to deal with this like an adult-serious and responsible. Leave no knotted ends, she told herself.
Her heart skipped a beat when she saw the name flashing on her mobile phone, but she picked it up within two rings. “Hi, Zae,” she said quietly. I’m not running away again.
“H- hey. Um, hi.” She could hear him fumbling with the phone at the other end. He probably didn’t expect her to answer his call. “So, did you receive it?”
“Receive wha- oh, the book? Mm-hmm. I’ve finished it already.” She had been having a hard time finding sleep the past few nights. She felt like an evil, scheming person waiting to stab her own fiancé in the back.
“Good. I’ll get you a bigger book next time. I, uh, just want to let you know that I’ll be gone for about a week. A revision course for my captains.”
A sudden void opened up in her. “What? Where are you going?”
“To the south of Quesdeja, where it’s all wild and humid. But it’s kind of beautiful, that place. Some of the plants have leaves longer than you.” His breathing sounded like he was chuckling. “I’ll be back before you know it.”
She smiled too. For a long while, she didn’t move, allowing his deep voice to reverberate in her head. She simply closed her eyes and laid her head down, willing herself to close off the rest of the world and listen only to the beating rhythm in her chest.
July 25th - Grythen
Gwen
Gwen made a face at the rubbish bin as she tossed her trash bag. Her mother would have been so mad at the lack of recycling bins. They probably thought that dancetresses were too dumb to sort their trash out.
“Mama,” she sighed. She missed her family, but she didn’t want to give up what she had carved for herself here. She had come from a middle-class family, sheltered and well-provided for. They lived in a small city just outside the edge of the magic circle and she never had to opportunity to discover her powers until that school trip to a mental health institution within the well's reach.
Her silver hair, originally thought to an unknown birth defect, was simply reflecting the violet of her star. The royal hue was too light to show up and, instead, lent a bluish, metallic tint to her hair. It was the source of her self-hate as she was growing up, but an advantage in the dance business-everyone could spot her on the stage.
She could still remember how her parents forced her to come to Grythen to pursue her passion of dancing. They practically pushed her out of their front door and locked her out. They had wanted her to walk out of her trauma and find independence. Being a dancetress was the most stable and best-paid job available so she signed the contract with them, only to hear about the undesirable reputation of dancetresses a few days later. It helped that she had a brain in her pretty head too.
She fought hard against the stereotype of a dancetress. She refused men if they were married and berated them when they behaved inappropriately. It was tough at first, but she survived and earned the name of ‘Classy Gwen’. Men now fork out huge sums to hire her as a high-class social escort to formal company dinners.
Women like Mejaine disgust her to no end. That new girl from the countryside was no better too. She seemed so innocent when they first met, but Mejaine must have taught her all the wrong things. No wonder they were saying something awful about her yesterday.
July 27th - Grythen
“The doctor’s report came in very late because they rescanned her arm a few times, just in case it was a problem with the angle, but no, there was not even the slightest hint of misalignment in her arm. There was no sign of her breaking her arm before.”
Deinja raised his eyebrows. “How sure are you that she didn’t have anything to set her bone at all? She was just a six-year-old at that time. This might even be just a dream which felt too real. You can’t differentiate memories from dreams. You see them all.”
Jeremy told himself to breathe deeply. It was exasperating to talk to Deinja sometimes; that man distrusted everything. “We checked with the orphanage keeper. She said Kismette fell from an apple tree and her arm swelled so big she couldn’t get her shirt off to wash.”
“So… what now? Do we accept the possibility of her healing herself?”
“When she had been out of the circle?”
For the first time, Deinja leaned his back into the armchair. He seemed to have lost his usual edginess all of a sudden. “I don’t know, Viken. The breadth of her powers was so small-she can’t even do infections. That in itself is very suspicious, you know. Every single healer recorded in history could.” He hesitated.
“Say it. I don’t want to sift through your complicated mind.”
“I have been thinking… Do you remember Gwen of Catherines?”
August 1st - Grythen
Zaelem
It felt silly to be carrying a leaf in his pocket, but Zaelem didn’t know what else to bring her from the southern jungle of Quesdeja. At least he picked an interesting one-it had a furry surface and tendrils curling out from its edges. Maybe he could teach her to press leaves and keep a collection.
He stood a few steps away from the famous bridal shop of Grythen and scanned the passers-by on the street. Iko said Kismette would be here to try out her altered gown. If she was willing to pick up his call again, he figured she wouldn’t shy away from meeting in public coincidentally. He had to try something, after all.
The warrior made a face when he finally spotted her looking left and right before crossing the road-her clothes made her look much older than she was. In fact, it looked like something out of Annie’s wardrobe.
And then, it all happened too fast.
An ice cream van appeared from behind the bend, going at speeds over the limit for small roads. It was only a few inches away from Kismette now and the driver honked furiously for her to get out of the way.
Zaelem charged forward, but she was too far from his range. He enveloped Kismette in his arms just as the vehicle collided into him from the back. Excruciating pain shot up his spine and he howled. Both of them were flung to the ground.
Kismette didn’t respond. She lay on the tar road, unconscious, while Zaelem continued to writhe in agony. His legs were no longer under his command. He stretched his hand out, but Kismette was just that tiny bit out of his reach.
The world soon faded to black.
Ning: So, well, are you guys happy to see Zae again? :P (I actually wanted this to be bloody, but I gave Zaelem a red shirt. Talk about bad planning! =_=) Also, did anyone spot Jackie and Ali? ;)
In other news, I got a sweet secret! *explodes into a dancing banana*
I'd admit that my confidence in my storytelling ability has been dropping ever since I came back from hiatus, but this gave me a really big boost. Thank you so much! :D (I didn't reply on the simsecret lj though, coz this is kinda old already. Whoops! :P)
And by the way, (this is not CS-related) I've come to realise that I will regret if I didn't play enough this holiday, so I'm cutting back on work now, haha. Yay for me! :D
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