After we've finished eating, Pyra and Mika depart for their usual destination atop the astrological tower, and Emi, after swallowing a huge bite of toast and giving herself the hiccups, sets off for the library. By this time, most of the table is empty, as usual. The only ones left are me, a couple of slightly higher-ranked Diviners a few years older than me, a few elders down at the far end of the table, and Saïx, still seated right at its head and deep in conversation with a steel-haired older woman whose face is lined with age and worry.
After gulping down a final mouthful of tea and pushing my plate away, I stand and begin to make my way down the table towards the far end where Saïx is sitting. As I draw closer, I can make out some of the exchange passing between them in hushed, tense voices.
"…I'm not sure who to trust anymore," the woman is saying, and I can hear the clear anxiety in her voice. "The younger Diviners are all choosing sides amongst the Elders, and the Elders are beginning to turn on one another in suspicion and fear. Above all of that, we still don't know who the real traitor is."
"That is one problem that will soon be resolved," Saïx answers her in his calm, steady voice. I feel my heart do a little flip-flop when I hear it, and internally tell it to be still.
"How do you know?" the woman whispers, sounding curious and a little skeptical.
"I have already formulated a plan," Saïx says. "The details of it are not available for me to share with you, unfortunately, but rest assured that I am not, in fact, without a strategy."
The woman sighs deeply, staring down into her teacup. "It's not just what's going on now that worries me, Master," she says softly. "The leaves tell me that a great tragedy is forthcoming, and I'm worried for our Guild."
Saïx nods understandingly. "You should always listen to what your tools tell you, Michiko," he says gently. "However, you should also listen to what I am telling you, and right now, I tell you that I have a plan that is designed to ensure the safety of our Guild. If you will trust me, I promise that my only goal will be to keep the Diviners' Guild safe."
The woman—Michiko—sighs again. "All right, Master," she says. "I will place my trust in you."
"I am honored to have it," Saïx tells her. "Please go now; you look like you could use some extra rest."
"Thank you, Master," she replies, standing and bowing to him deeply before turning and moving away, leaving him alone at the head of the table.
I realize that everyone else has left while I stood and listened, and now Saïx and I are the only ones in the room. I begin turning to walk out as well.
"Naxanz."
The sound of my name, spoken warmly in his steady voice, stops me cold. I turn back around slowly. He is raising a hand to me, beckoning me to come to him. Not at all unwillingly, I do so, approaching his side.
"I believe you left something of yours in my room," I say, reaching up to touch the hair clip. "Your moon clip. I still have it with me, if you want it back."
He smiles, a little half-smile that makes me go hot and cold all at once. "I left it there for a reason," he says. I notice then, with some surprise, that the blindfold still covers his eyes. Not once have I ever seen him out of his room with it on.
"You're outside," I note aloud. "And you're…" I'm not sure exactly how to finish the sentence.
He touches the blindfold, the half-smile still lingering at his lips. "Yes," he says simply. "I decided to throw caution to the winds tonight, since the morning's journey will call for all the caution that I have."
I sigh heavily, feeling the leaden weight settling heavily into my stomach, but I do not speak.
He catches the sound anyway, and the smile becomes a full smile, and a gentle one.
"You're worried." It isn't a question.
"I am not," I mumble, feeling my cheeks going hot. It's a complete lie, of course, and I know he won't believe me.
He doesn't. "I promise to be careful," he says, the smile pulling at the corners of his mouth.
"You don't have to promise me anything," I say, my face burning once again. "You're the Master; I'm just an initiate."
He shakes his head slowly. "No. You are far more than that, Nax. At least… to me. And that clip," he gestures to me, even though he can't actually see me, "is my promise to you. You must hold it safe for me until I can return to you."
A light, giddy feeling steals over me, but I hold it down with some effort. "And what if… what if you don't come back?" I ask him.
"I will come back," he says, his voice serious and intense. "I make a promise, both to you and to myself. I promise to return to you."
"You're not just coming back to me," I mumble. "You're returning to the whole Guild. I'm just one person."
"The only person I care to swear my return to," he replies quietly.
My cheeks are on fire by now, and I can feel wetness swimming at the corners of my eyes. He's making it sound so serious and ominous, and I'm feeling a genuine worry beginning to rise in my chest and my throat; a tight, choking hand that constricts me into breathlessness.
"Why?" I whisper, trying not to let the leaking emotion into my voice.
He reaches out a hand to me, and I take it slowly, feeling its warm strength beneath my fingers. Then, quickly, he pulls me to him, wrapping his arms around me in a strong embrace that leaves me even more breathless than the worry.
I won't break down, I won't cry, I won't show emotion, I won't, I won't, I won't…
You don't have to be so stoic and secretive, you know. His wry reply in my mind shocks me for a second, but then I relax, remembering our connection.
That's not fair, using my own accusation against me.
He chuckles out loud, the sound a warm vibration against my body.
All's fair in love and war, my dear. And as to your 'why,' it's because I find that you are the most important person in my life, and the only one who truly understands and cares for me. So I swear my return to you, and specifically to you.
He holds me for a few eternal moments longer, and then slowly releases me, raising a hand to feel my cheeks, and wiping off with his thumb the few surprising tears that have made their presence known.
"You have to be careful, okay?" I whisper, feeling a slight tremor in my body.
He nods seriously. "I swear."
There is another pause, lasting a few long seconds, and then he smiles. "Come," he says, standing and extending a hand to me. "I believe there is time for one final lesson before it comes time for my departure."
I take his hand, my own suddenly feeling fragile within his, and follow him from the room.
We pass the rest of that night together in his rooms. At first, we start out working on the prophecy, although at this point, there's not much left for us to figure out, except for some specifics that still manage to elude our every attempt to figure them out; the name of the traitor, for example. No matter how hard we try, or what technique, tactic or tool we use, the traitor's identity still hovers just out of reach, teasing us with our miserable attempts to discover its secrets.
Eventually, we take a break from our work to eat a small meal in his room, instead of joining the rest of the Diviners in the dining hall. Saïx has a teapot and a small chest filled with food for when he doesn't feel like eating with the rest of the Guild, and he makes tea and willingly shares his meal with me. We eat on the couch, our feet hanging over the ends and our backs pressed together in the middle with a pillow between us, leaning in comfortable warmth against one another. With anyone else, even Mika, Pyra, or Emi, this would be weird, but with him, it feels as natural as breathing or sleeping. My head nods lazily against his shoulder, even though I got a full day's sleep; the food and warmth and his company is making me drowsy.
I hear him chuckling, the vibrations traveling through the pillow and through my back to resonate in my chest warmly.
"Tired already?" he asks, his voice full of amusement.
"Of course not," I reply, contradicting myself by ending the statement with an enormous yawn.
Saïx laughs, reaching up a backwards hand to ruffle my white hair. "I think we should finish this lesson before you fall asleep," he says, and I hear the smile in his tone even though I can't see his face.
"You're so infuriating," I sigh, "with all the mind-reading…" I break off into another yawn, and he laughs again.
"I can't help being what I am," he says, mock-innocence coloring his tone. He leans forward, and the pillow drops to the couch as the warm weight of his back disconnects from mine. I sigh quietly, but manage to hide it.
Saïx gets up and goes into the other room, his feet, in their socks, making no sound on the smooth floor. I wait on the couch, listening to the sounds of clinking and moving objects from the adjacent chamber. It occurs to me vaguely to wonder what he is getting, but I do not bother rising to look. He'll come back soon enough.
Return he does, in a very short time, carrying a large, clear glass orb, which he flops down on the couch holding in his hands. I swing my feet around to sit cross-legged facing him, my elbows on my knees, my hands supporting my drooping head.
"What's that?" I ask him sleepily.
"It's a crystal ball," he replies, setting it in his lap.
I laugh. "Are you serious? Those are real?" I've been here for almost six months now and I've never seen a single Diviner use a crystal ball. I thought they were just some kind of fortune-teller stereotype.
"As real as tarot cards and tea leaves," he replies, smiling slightly. "Although they're not much-preferred as a tool for master Divinations. They're not very reliable for specifics of prophecy. They're more of a trinket to Divination than anything else; they're useful for general readings relating to the proceedings of one's daily life."
"Oh," I say, yawning again. "So, what's the point of them, then?"
He shrugs. "They're amusing." He grins and puts both his hands on the clear orb, one on either side of it.
"And now," he intones, and I have to bite my lip to keep from laughing at the slow and mysterious fortune-teller voice he is affecting, "I will gaze into my crystal and read your destiny."
As I watch, spellbound, the orb suddenly clouds over, filling with a swirling, misty substance, like fog on a heavy autumn day. It occurs to me to wonder how he is going to see anything in the crystal with his blindfold on, but I keep the comment to myself, watching the crystal and his face intently.
As the mist within the ball grows thicker, the room seems to get steadily darker around us, until the only light illuminating it is coming from the crystal ball itself, which glows silver like a tiny moon there in the room with us. Silver radiance catches in every hollow of Saïx's face, shimmering off his blue hair and turning it the color of starlight. I am absolutely enthralled.
Slowly, his hands rise from the ball, and I can see that they are trembling slightly, as if he is afraid. As I look on, his fingers rise shakily to the blindfold at his eyes. My own eyes widen as I realize what is about to happen.
Quick as a lightning bolt, he yanks the blindfold up, and my heart stops its beat for a second. Gazing out at me is the most brilliant pair of bright, golden eyes I have ever seen, made even more breathtaking by the silver light from the crystal. In this moment, I know I will never forget the way those eyes look now, compared to their relative dullness when he is blind.
He looks down at the ball for a split second, then reaches back up and yanks the blindfold back down over his eyes, his hand shaking even more violently. Just as quickly, the mist in the ball fades to nothingness, and the lights slowly return to the rest of the room.
Saïx raises his hands to his temples, pressing his fingers steadily to his head, the crystal all but forgotten in his lap. Slowly, I reach over and pick it up, setting it on the table beside us; then, cautiously, I slide closer to him and wrap my arms around his middle, leaning my head against his chest where his heart thumps in double-time. His arms come down to go around me in return, and we sit still for several minutes until his wild pulse slows to normal, and the shaking in his hands calms down.
I lean back slowly, peering up at his face, which is still calm as ever. The only sign that something could be wrong is a slightly paler tone to his skin, and a barely noticeable tightness around his lips.
Things only I would notice.
"Are you all right?" I whisper, reaching up a hand to touch his cheek softly.
He flinches, and then relaxes as he realizes it's just me. "It was… very painful," he says quietly. "Light hurts me the most of all. It burns like my eyes are on fire."
I feel a sharp pain in my own chest, aching for his torment.
"But," he continues softly, and the expression on his face makes me go nearly tongue-tied.
"I did get the chance to see you, even if it was only for a second," he whispers, and his mouth is a full smile. "And you're even more beautiful than I was imagining you."
I can feel my cheeks going hot now, but they can't compare with the smile on my face.
He thinks I'm… beautiful.
"I didn't know your hair was white," he says softly.
"Is there something wrong with it?" I ask, suddenly feeling nervous.
"Wrong with—of course not!" he says. "It looks like liquid moonlight when the light is silver."
I feel myself blushing even more violently. "You're too kind," I murmur softly.
"I am only honest," he replies quietly, reaching out his own hand to touch my cheek, as I just did for him. Between us, it is an unspoken gesture of affection, and it makes me feel warm all over.
"Did you see anything in the crystal ball?" I ask, changing the subject.
He grins. "Yes," he says, and there is a note of something…meaningful in his voice.
"What did you see?" I ask, nervous again all at once.
"You've fallen in love," he tells me, his grin wide and knowing. "You've fallen in love very recently, and the person you love is beginning to realize that they love you in return. Fortune graces your romance."
My cheeks are burning twin suns in the suddenly cold room.
"You're making that up," I mumble.
"I am most certainly not," he replies.
But then, surely he must know that the person I'm in love with; that it's…
I can't complete the thought, afraid that he might hear it.
After the crystal ball reading, I grow steadily sleepier and sleepier; at least, after the burning flush in my cheeks dies away. Saïx rises briefly to put the crystal ball back from wherever he got it; then he returns to the couch, sitting beside me again. He raises my head gently so that I am lying across his knees, my head on a pillow in his lap, and then he proceeds to run gentle hands through my white hair which he now knows is white, and to tell me stories about his life growing up in House Rain, with his brother and sister. Other people might find it boring, but for me, it is one of the most wonderful nights of my life. I keep remembering the bright, vivid gold of his eyes, and imagining them like that again beneath the blindfold, looking at me with the same intensity that his blind stare always does.
Finally, the first rays of dawn begin to pierce the night outside, gradually lightening the sky to a paler shade of blue. My eyes flicker heavily, the lids sliding down, pausing, and then struggling open again.
Have to stay awake… if you sleep, he leaves…
I know he hears the thought because he gives a gentle laugh, his mouth curving up in an amused smile.
I have to leave whether you sleep or not, Naxanz. You know that, don't you?
Yes… but I want to stay with you until you go.
He smiles again, his teeth showing white at the edges of his lips.
I'm going very soon. It's better for you to sleep. I will be back before I am even missed.
"I miss you already," I mumble out loud, too tired to keep up the mental communication.
"That's ridiculous, I haven't even left yet," he chides, but there is no real heat in the teasing reproach, only the smile that is so evident I can hear it.
"So?" I give a huge yawn which stretches my cheeks like loose tarpaulins. "I'm about to fall asleep, and I'll wake up and you'll be gone…"
"I've been gone from you before," he says softly. "You haven't missed me before."
"Yes I did," I mumble. "I just never told you."
He looks surprised for a second, but then his expression settles into the familiar peaceful calm once again, and his fingers tangle lazily in my hair. I yawn once more and feel my eyes blinking closed. There is a much longer pause this time before I push them open again; so long, in fact, that I am afraid Saïx might think I have fallen asleep and leave me here. With much effort, they slide open once again, the brightening light in the room almost enough to make me flick them back to closed.
"All right, I can tell you're about to fall unconscious," Saïx says, shaking his head at me like a teacher would at a troublesome pupil.
"I am n…" I can't even finish the sentence, the words breaking off into drowsy mush followed by another humongous yawn.
Saïx stands, exhaling slightly as his joints crackle and his vertebrae stretch back out from the long night on the couch. Slowly, he bends down and slides his arms under me, and then there is a weightless, floating sensation filling my consciousness. Barely, I register that he must have picked me up.
The floating sensation carries me effortlessly through the curtained doorway between Saïx's two rooms; the living room and the bedchamber. I protest weakly as he carries me to the big bed, which is arranged with beautiful blue silk bedclothes. He ignores my protesting, pulling back the covers with one hand to reveal cream-white sheets that look incredibly soft. I soon find that they are exactly as soft as they look. He sets me down atop the white sheets, sliding the covers up over me and pressing them down lightly. His bedspread is unfathomably warm, and I feel the drowsiness stealing up into my consciousness, replacing my sight with black spots of darkness. His hand reaches out to stroke my brow, and I unconsciously raise my own hands to grab onto his, holding his fingers tightly.
"Nax, I have to leave," he says gently.
"Don't leave," I whisper, continuing to hold his fingers. "Please?"
He sighs. "Ten more minutes. Then I really do have to go."
He pulls back the blue covers and slides in beside me, wrapping his arms tightly around me. If the covers were warm, he is a blaze, a furnace that warms me from the inside out. I feel myself going completely limp beside him, my face pressed into his chest.
Ten minutes seems to pass in ten seconds. I have almost reached that limbo on the edge of sleep and waking when I feel him shift beside me, his warmth disappearing as he pulls back the covers and stands.
"I'm going now," he tells me.
I want to say something to pull him back, to keep him here, but I know he's telling the truth, and I have to let him leave, no matter how much it stings my heart to do so. So, instead, I simply turn onto my back, keeping my eyes closed and trying not to let the tears slide out from under them and down my warm cheeks. Some of them make it out anyway, and I feel them leaving their wet trails on my face.
In a completely unexpected move, he leans back down over me, his face very close to mine. For one insane, hopeful moment, I think he might be going to kiss me on the lips, and I feel my heart skipping several beats. Then, his lips brush my cheeks gently, where the tears have stained them wet. My heart slows slightly, but my cheeks still burn where the trails of his lips are.
"I will be back soon," he whispers, his breath tickling my cheeks lightly. "Sleep well, my dear."
With one last pass of his hand through my hair, he turns and is gone, and I am left alone in his huge, warm bed, scattered thoughts meandering through my drowsy brain, my cheeks still tingling from the pressure of his lips. I raise both my hands and press them to my face, unable to keep a smile from my own lips as I remember…
I fall asleep still smiling.