Again, I exhaled heavily. My warm breath seemed to coalesce into a stream of smoke, drifting off slowly into the frigid night air. I couldn't help but smile, yet again.
It was these days that the brumal winds blown from Sejiri swept the Agadeem coast. The annual message was clear: harvest season had come. My hands were numb, and white from clenching the granite crenelations. My lips cracked with each stinging breath I took. The chilled wind whipped hoarfrost in my eyes, and yet I refused to look away from the ocean.
I loved it. While the dock workers and farmers were out celebrating, drunk on last year's harvest, here I stood reveling in the cold. It was beautiful and humbling out here, at the base of the port city's lighthouse. I was reminded of the Lighthouse at Sea Gate, and I felt a trickle of water run down my face. Not seawater, but salty all the same. I bit my tongue as the illuminating beacon of the structure swung lazily across the panorama. For but a moment, it permitted glimpses of the crashing midnight waves. I didn't care that it was the Lantern Festival. I was blissfully happy right here, I told myself.
I must have looked like a statue – not quite alive, bare feet in a puddle of ice water, wearing only a simple woolen sweater and a skirt. My only claim to the contrary was my golden hair blast-blown by the gale.
I exhaled another evanescent wisp. It churned in front of my eyes for a moment, its ephemeral form reminiscent of wild mana.
A clammy hand brushed my arm lightly.
"Hemer," Without turning around, I addressed the aging merfolk, "What brings the lighthouse keeper so far from his perch?" A glum sarcasm nearly dripped from the words, like seawater from my face.
"I see much from my vigil, hatchling," Rasped his voice in answer, "Including young girls who shouldn't be out in the cold, alone during a time of great happiness."
I'm not a little girl. I'm not alone. I am happy. Really.
My feet, unfeelingly numb, moved like grinding stone. I faced the lighthouse keeper. The merfolk's kindly face was beset by the deep grooves of age and framed by a scraggly grey beard.
He said nothing, but held out a webbed hand. I took it, and allowed myself to be led, feet dragging heavily, inside.
"Hey, Ioric," I said, "Have you ever been to Sejiri?"
The man sitting across from me tilted his head up. He had a long, unshaven face checkered with small scars. His black hair, as always, was tied up. His head, by contrast, hung very low, as if it was about to fall off his shoulders. At times it looked as if the only thing holding his head up was an invisible hand gripping his hair.
Before I had spoken, he had been lost in thought and silence, a far-off look in his eyes. Draped over the armchair haphazardly, he might as well have been a rag doll. Now snapping out of his reverie, he blinked once.
"Sejiri?"
"Yeah," The word only barely escaped my open mouth. It felt as though the air was unusually dense, threatening to stifle my speech entirely. The quiet words my lips tried to give form found themselves suffocated by this invisible pressure.
"Once," He paused for just a moment, mouth agape, "Sort of." He shifted himself into a position that looked more upright, yet still seemingly lifeless, "Made it into Midnight Pass and all that. Never set foot on land, though." He shrugged.
"Oh."
"Any reason you ask?" His voice was hollow, like he only spoke out of habit and courtesy.
I didn't answer. Instead I merely glanced around. The lighthouse was by no means large, but Hemer had been gracious enough to let my companions and I stay in what meager living quarters were available, since we were just passing through. That had been the plan, anyway.
Ioric and I were lounging in the common room. It was a grand room, by far the most lavish in the entire lighthouse. A great many cushioned chairs and sofas were strewn about the cavernous space. There was an enormous fireplace, large enough for three men to stand abreast in, and deep enough that one could lay down in it comfortably. Though I wouldn't have advised anyone to do so at that exact moment; the fireplace still housed a smoldering fire, casting a lethargic orange light on the entire room.
I curled up into my especially comfy armchair, sinking my face into the soft cashmere cushion. The fire's warmth and light came to caress me. I was so entranced by the fire and veritable mountain of glowing coals that I didn't notice my other three companions stumbling back into the room after a night of merrymaking.
The unmistakable reek of alcohol reached me before they did. Fortunately they were too tired to make much of a fuss, instead collapsing on various seats in the common room. Hemer wouldn't be too happy about that. But of course he would never say so.
I waited a few minutes until I heard the noisy, wet snoring of my inebriated compatriots.
As I got up from my cozy refuge, I noted that the others were indeed sleeping soundly. I sighed. How did I ever get stuck with this lot? I made to leave.
"Going out?" I heard before I had taken two steps. Damn you, Ioric.
"Yeah," I said, "Thought a late night walk would do me some good."
"I'll go with you, then."
My eyes rolled involuntarily. Immediately I hoped he hadn't noticed. "Mmm," I responded, lost for anything intelligible to say.