Under the Sea
Clint was not a fan of his annual wellness checks at the clinic from the start. The doc was always telling him to do more cardio and eat balanced meals. What blacksmith had time for those things? Clint was strong, he could work a hammer for most of the day before he tired of it. And salads tasted, well, like dirt. Unless you slathered them in dressing, which is exactly what Doctor Harvey advised against.
But on top of that Doctor Harvey was still - where was he again? Anyway, Doctor Harvey was not available, and Maru was running the clinic. If not for the fact that Clint noticed pains in his chest lately, he would have just tried to reschedule with the Doctor when he got back. The idea of a woman examining him caused Clint to shudder. What if I can't answer one of her questions? What if she asks me something too embarrassing to talk about in front of a woman? What if she makes fun of me?
Clint had a long history of paralysis when it came to women. His father - also a blacksmith - had been the same way. If it were not for his father's handsome features, Clint was convinced that he would have never been born. His mother preferred the "strong, silent" type and what better option could she have other than a burly blacksmith? At least, that's what his mother always said. But Clint knew that the fact his father was putty in his mother's hands from the moment he laid eyes on her probably played a role, too.
The problem for the town blacksmith was that while his personality was a carbon copy of his father's, Clint had not maintained the active lifestyle his father had to keep in shape. Not to mention the "traditional" method his father had of finding a wife - or really, a wife finding him - had been interrupted in Clint's case. While Emily was as charismatic as his mother, the woman he loved was very different from her. And there was the fact, Emily was married now, which posed the biggest problem to the future that Clint clung to all these years.
Clint tried his best to stay at the wedding reception as long as possible, but watching the love of his life dance with her new husband proved a bit too much for him to handle for long. The blacksmith slipped out of the party after about an hour and had spent the last few weeks in a trance-like state of disbelief. He even hit his finger with a hammer, which was something he had not done in ages due to his lack of focus. Clint glanced down at the bandaged finger and frowned. It still throbbed uncomfortably sometimes.
When Maru called him back into the exam room, Clint began to sweat from nervousness. He hoped the nurse would not notice. Hoisting himself onto the table, the blacksmith did his best to suppress his fidgeting, but Maru immediately commented on it.
"Are you doing alright, Clint? You seem a bit nervous."
Clint froze like a deer in headlights. Should he try to play it cool? Should he be honest? Would the words even come out of his mouth if he tried? Instead, he nodded to let Maru know that he was alright, but Clint immediately realized that she asked him two questions. Now he looked like a fool. The blacksmith felt his body shaking, his heart began to beat rapidly as the perspiration formed on his brow. Clint felt as if he were going to explode and then it all came out. Vomit. Word vomit.
"I never had the courage to ask Emily out on a date and now she's married and I'll never find a girlfriend!" he wailed, leaving a wide-eyed Maru in his wake as he threw open the exam room door and fled from the clinic as fast as he could.
Penny could not focus on her lessons for the children today. She was too busy worrying whether or not Elliott received her note in the mail this morning. What if he doesn't show up? the brunette reflected. Obviously, she would be disappointed. Yes, the whole idea was thrown together last-minute but Penny was determined to show Elliott how she felt about him.
He's the one I want to be with the rest of my life… Penny thought, biting her lower lip anxiously. The schoolteacher did not have fame or fortune, and while Elliott honestly seemed to believe she rivaled a goddess of beauty, the brunette knew that opinion was not shared by all. If all Elliott desired was her, as he told her last night, Penny felt ready to give him exactly what he wanted.
Glancing down at her bag, she spied a strap from her green bikini that she planned to wear in the spa tonight for her date with Elliott. She had never worn anything so revealing in the presence of a man before, but Penny supposed that the point of a seduction was to do just that. She blushed at the idea of what might happen tonight.
"Miss Penny," Jas inquired quietly. "Are you feeling alright? Your face is red." The child was so innocent in her concern that Penny's flushed expression only worsened. The girl reached out her hand to Penny's forehead. "You might have a fever!"
The teacher swatted Jas' hand away a little too immediately and Jas' face went blank with confusion. Penny regretted the action instantly. "I'm fine, Jas," she assured her student. "I think I just need to take a quick walk outside to cool down. I'm too warm in this sweater." It was a lie, but one that convinced the kids well enough.
Jas nodded and returned to her work. Vincent began to shuffle out of his seat, "I'll go with you, Miss Penny!" the boy volunteered. It was sweet of him to offer, but Penny knew that Vincent also wanted to skip ahead to the recess they had at the end of their lessons and completely forget about his assignment.
"You're so considerate, Vincent." Penny grinned sweetly at the boy, "But it would help me more to finish your work before I return…"
Vincent pouted, but obeyed. Penny noticed the child sneaking a peek at the paper in front of Jas, but she did not bother to scold him this time. Instead, the teacher opted for a swift retreat to the outdoors. As expected, the frigid air made her shiver, clearing her mind from the gutter.
Penny stood underneath the overhang of the roof just outside the front of the building. It was not snowing now, but the ground still sparkled in the weak sunlight. Like tiny little diamonds blanketing the earth. Penny purposefully inhaled slowly, taking the cold into her body before exhaling. Even if Elliott doesn't show up tonight, we are still a couple, Penny reminded herself. The bath house is awfully far for him to travel, especially in the dark.
From her sheltered spot, the woman saw a red bird alight onto the top of a nearby fence post. He was quite the specimen, his bold feathers a stark contrast against the crisp white of the snow. She snorted softly as the bird fluffed out its body to keep the cold at bay, like one of the pom poms she sometimes used for the children's crafts.
"You have such a bewitching laugh, Miss Penelope," Elliott proclaimed with a charming grin. "It's quite infectious."
Penny blinked, as if to make sure the man at her side was real. "Elliott!" she exclaimed, embarrassed that she had not noticed him sooner.
Elliott nodded in response to greet her. "Good morning, my dear." Silence became a wall between them for a moment, then the long-locked man pulled something from the breast pocket of his coat. "I… received your letter."
"Oh…" She had forgotten she would see Elliott before their date this evening. He came to the library most days during the Winter season.
Elliott's lower lip protruded slightly as he contemplated something. "I… am afraid tonight would not be ideal for a rendezvous at the bath house."
Penny felt her heart sink. There was something about her boyfriend's face that made her concerned that he was about to say something that would upset her.
The man continued in a tender voice. "I would like to request to speak to you privately about a… personal matter, however." While Penny assumed he was trying to assure her with his gentle tone, somehow it only intensified her fears. Still, she had to know.
"Would you like me to swing by after I'm done teaching the children today?"
Elliott shook his head. "No, I would prefer to visit you, if you will allow me to do so."
It was unusual for Elliott to be so direct. Penny's eyes searched desperately for any hint of what he wanted to discuss, but found nothing. He smiled weakly at her. "I do apologize for keeping you and I shall take your silence as an affirmative, if you do not object shortly."
Penny nodded, dumbfounded. "Alright, I'll see you this evening."
Normally, Elliott would stay at the library and read while Penny taught the children, but today her boyfriend turned on his heels and headed back toward town. She wondered what he wanted to discuss that evening and where he was off to in such a hurry.
Rasmodius stared down at the two girls before him. He had not noticed it before, but both of his daughter and her companion had different shades of purple hair. And he, M. Rasmodius, also exhibited a bold hue of purple on his person. Was his tastes in fashion finally becoming trendy with the youth?
He shook his head. The wizard could not let fleeting fashions sway his own style. Rasmodius sported this look for well over a century, before either of these girls' mothers - if not grandmothers - were born.
Abigail was resistant to his teaching methods, labeling them "condescending" and "childish," so the man had to expect the same from her associates. Though Violet was not immediately put out by his lesson structure, it was apparent she was quickly becoming bored.
As Ramodius feared, the farmer's magic was druidic in nature at first glance, drawn from the local forest spirits and the power of the earth itself. Rasmodius knew he could not teach her spells - wizards were resourceful and tapped into any source of magic they could find. That was not the case for other magic classes. In fact, even Abigail's magic appeared distinctly different than his own, though many of the skill sets were familiar to him.
But how could that be possible? Did the blood of another magical entity flow through Caroline's family tree, of which she was unaware? Rasmodius supposed that his own magical abilities activated dormant genetic properties within his progeny? It was possible, though Rasmodius doubted that Abigail would allow him to study her extensively. He would have to subtly test her capabilities during their sessions.
Despite his pre-assessment, Rasmodius had to make a show of "testing" Violet's magic class. No one liked to hear that they could not be taught by a master without some show of effort on the part of the teacher. The wizard pretended to use a variety of "relics" to determine the farmer's innate talents. Of course, he had to improvise, but the items were impressive in appearance, if not actual importance. Saving the best for last, Rasmodius handed Violet a branch from a local cherry tree.
"Make it bloom," he instructed. The girl's dark blue eyes regarded him with a moment of confusion, but then she turned her attention to the twig and closed her eyes to concentrate. It glowed a brilliant shade of green, like the earth after a storm in Springtime. Once the light faded, the small branch displayed a bouquet of tiny blossoms. The girl beamed with pride and Rasmodius nodded approvingly.
"Ah, yes. Your magic is intertwined with your relationship to nature," the wizard explained in his most scholarly tone. A fitting class for a farmer, Rasmodius mused. "I am afraid I will not be much help in your studies. You will have to complete tasks for the local forest spirits in order to obtain your power and cast magic."
Violet frowned, her countenance pensive. "You're saying my magic is from doing tasks for the Junimos?" She seemed concerned. Making an educated guess, Rasmodius assumed that Violet worried that her magic would eventually run out once she completed the tasks in the Community Center.
He shrugged in response. "Not just the Junimos," he assured his daughter's friend. "Though they are likely the ones with whom you interact on a more regular basis." Rasmodius gestured out the window to the snow-covered forest beyond the warmth of his tower. "Even in Winter, the spirits are quite active. You need only seek them out."
Violet did not argue, but Abigail protested. "Hey, you were supposed to teach us together!" his daughter objected. "You can't just send her on a nature hike and pretend you taught her anything."
Rasmodius' sighed heavily. His children had all turned out stubborn, though Abigail was certainly the most vocal in her disagreement. Perhaps because she was the only one to reach adulthood and had not been under his tutelage until recently. After all, all his other children began their magical instruction as soon as they began to speak.
"What you so glibly call a 'nature hike' is the source of Violet's magic," the wizard countered. "I am not a tree, I am an arcane caster. I cannot teach what I do not know how to borrow and utilize myself!"
Abigail regarded him with a critical eye, crossing her arms over her chest. "So, does that mean you can't actually teach me anything, either?"
Rasmodius pinched the bridge of his nose, trying to suppress the headache forming under his skull. "Wizardry and sorcery have a great deal of overlap," the exhausted man clarified. "But our sources of magic are distinctly different." He plucked a piece of chalk from the sill of his blackboard and made a few basic doodles. "I borrow from a wide range of entities," he told her, drawing a wide arc, "while your magic, although limited, is inherent to your blood." Rasmodius demarcated a sliver of the half-circle and wrote an "A" to signify his daughter.
The girls exchanged glances, though why Rasmodius could not discern. "What does that mean?" Abigail asked.
"I presume you have a magical bloodline of some sort on your mother's side," he reasoned, setting down the chalk and releasing the pressure on his nose and shaking his head slightly to disperse the tension. "Though judging from Caroline's lack of ability, either you are the first one to manifest the abilities in your family, or that a reaction with my bloodline may have been the catalyst."
Despite the solid hypothesis, his daughter's expression remained doubtful. "... Could I be descended from a goddess?"
Rasmodius scoffed at the idea. Honestly, children these days and their illusions of grandeur. "It is more likely a draconic or elven bloodline, slaying and imbibing the flesh or fluids of a magical beast, contact with wild magic, being resurrected one too many times, or even a curse, blessing, or carnal relations with the Fae!"
Abigail, as usual, was dissatisfied with the lesson. "Well, thanks anyway," she replied dismissively. "I'm going to 'commune with nature' with Violet."
As if they had planned ahead of time, the two girls made a quick escape out the heavy oak door and slammed it shut behind them, leaving only a waft of cold air as evidence of their presence.
That child! Rasmodius grumbled. She's never going to get anywhere with her studies! Still, he had noticed lately that the presence of her magical aura was becoming stronger. Perhaps he was best at molding the abilities of children who had not yet learned to think for themselves.
Alex knew that Maru had visited the weird hooded figure in the mines every day since they opened up the side cavern. The problem was, the little gremlin or whatever the heck it was, did not speak any language that even Maru could even identify. She was the smartest person Alex knew, so if she could not tell what language it was, how could he?
Still, Alex was determined to help Maru. It was obvious that being unable to talk to the shrimpy guy was frustrating her. She was so curious about what he was and how he came to be there Maru got that sparkle in her eyes whenever she talked about her hypotheses for this new being they found together. But even someone as bright as Maru might give up after a while without any progress.
The jock was not sure he had ever stepped into the library with the intention to read any of the books, but he supposed there was a first time for everything. But as soon as Alex entered the building and heard the little bell ring as he entered, his mind went blank. Where do I even start?
He wandered toward the bookshelves, glancing over the titles of books as he went. If Alex had to guess, he was pretty sure he had stumbled on the cookbook section. He recognized a few of the books from the kitchen when Granny decided she wanted to try something new. But recipes were not going to tell him about talking to something that did not speak the same language.
Alex was not sure how long he had been searching when he felt someone tap his shoulder. It was Penny. She seemed confused to see him there, but then again, he would not expect to find anybody like him in the library, either. "What are you looking for?" his neighbor asked. "Maybe I can help you find it."
The athlete was not sure how much Penny knew about the monsters inside the mines. The girl did not seem like the kind to go exploring in the abandoned mines by herself. Alex figured it was better to play it safe and not risk freaking her out. He kept his reply relatively vague. "Just some language books, I guess."
Penny smiled at him. "I know exactly where those are!" As he followed Penny, Alex considered the last time he spoke to her. This was the first time the jock had seen her happy when talking to him. She always seemed uncomfortable around him for some reason. Maybe she had been intimidated by his muscles?
The teacher reached the section of the shelf on which the language books were stored and then turned to Alex to point them out. "What language? Spanish, French, German, Mandarin?"
Alex did not know what this had to do with those tiny oranges, but shook his head. He pondered the question for a moment. "I don't know the language I heard," the jock admitted, embarrassed by the gap in his knowledge. "That's what I'm trying to figure out."
"We don't have any audio materials for learning a language," Penny frowned, her eyes making a sweep over the stacks along the wall like a quarterback searching for an opening to throw to his wide receiver. She took a few books from the shelf and handed them to Alex. They were surprisingly heavy. "But this might be a good place to start," she explained. "You can see some examples of the written language and there are pronunciation guides."
Alex stared at the pile of books in his arms. "Uh… thanks." He already knew that the stranger probably did not speak any of these languages, since Maru already made it clear that the tiny guy in the cloak did not speak any of the "major world languages." She said something about fo-neem indicators and glottle stops, whatever that meant.
The jock did not want to seem ungrateful for Penny's help, though. So, he sat down at the table furthest away from her and the kids and pretended to skim each one for a while before getting up to put them back on the shelf.
Alex stood in front of the books, wondering what to do next when he noticed Gunther standing behind the counter. Right, isn't it his job to help people here? The brunet was not sure how much help anyone could give him, but it was worth a shot. He approached the older man and leaned his elbow on the counter casually. "Have you ever been to the mines?"
Gunther did not react right away. He stroked one side of his mustache with a gloved hand - who the heck wore gloves anymore? "My answer depends solely upon the information you seek, young man."
Alex always knew Gunther was weird, but that reply only cemented that opinion in his mind. There was no point in lying, though. "Maru and I met a… person? Well, we met someone in some little side cave in the mine entrance and we can't talk to the guy." Now that he thought about it, the athlete was not sure if the person was a dude or not, but he had already started talking and he was not about to confuse the librarian by switching up his story now. "Any idea what language they speak?"
Gunther paused, his eyebrows wrinkling under the shadow of his weird denim hat. "I see."
That was useless to Alex, but luckily the older guy did not stop there. "If you wish to communicate with that individual," Gunther continued, "I suggest you collect all four language scrolls in the mines. They each have a different color on them. The first three are tied with ribbon - red, blue, and green, while the final scroll has a golden chain. Once you get those, I can give you a translation guide."
"Wait, really?" How hard could it be to find a few scrolls in the mines? They found all sorts of random stuff every time they went exploring down there. The only downside was that Alex could not do this alone, but Sam and Abigail were more than down to hit up the mines so long as they were free. "That's it?"
Gunter smirked. "You seem to underestimate how difficult it is to find all four," he chuckled under his breath. "But I respect your self-confidence." The man in the odd cowboy hat waved Alex out the door. "If you want that translation guide, I suggest you start searching for those scrolls as soon as possible. I won't be here forever, you know."
Alex was not sure if Gunther was challenging him to find all four by the end of business today, but either way, he had the information he needed. Scrolls were just fancy rolled-up papers, right? Maybe he could surprise Maru by the Feast of the Winter Star. Imagining the grin on Maru's face was motivation enough.
Elliott rapped on the door of Miss Penelope's temporary abode on Miss Violet's property. He had visited the house many times since his beloved first took refuge here, but this evening there was a tightness in his chest. What if Miss Penelope cannot forgive me? Elliott fretted as he waited for the woman to open the door.
He knew that he should have told Miss Penelope more about his previous relationship, but Elliott could never discern the most appropriate moment to discuss such a sensitive topic. It was not polite to bring up past lovers to one's current partner, after all.
Now that his relationship with Miss Penelope seemed especially serious, Elliott could no longer avoid the issue. Yet, the poet could not shake the dread of this unfortunate encounter. What if she rejects me after learning of my history? The man was not sure he would survive the devastation of a second heart-break.
Miss Penelope opened the door, her dazzling emerald eyes watching him, unsure of his intentions for this visit. He had, of course, canceled a rendezvous that only could have been amorous in nature due to its remote location and followed-up with a request to meet Miss Penelope in her own home. It was only natural that she questioned the nature of this meeting.
His resolve was momentarily shaken as Miss Penelope greeted him, but he remained strong. "May I come in?" Elliott inquired, forgetting to greet his beloved in his haste to discharge the significant weight of his guilty conscience.
"You're always welcome, Elliott."
Smiling weakly, he removed his coat and boots, wet from the layer of snow on the earth. The poet questioned if those words would hold true after this evening. Miss Penelope hung his coat by the door and offered him a chair at the table. She did not have a second place to sit other than on her bed, so she positioned herself on the downy coverlet, tucking her ankles daintily under her.
Elliott leaned forward, his elbows resting upon his knees in an uncharacteristic manner. "If I may be so bold, I take it that you had planned a late-night excursion to…" How could he put this delicately? "To deepen the bonds of our love this evening." He stole a glance in his beloved's direction. "Is that correct?"
Miss Penelope's face flushed, yet she did not deny the statement. Elliott took that as his cue to move on. "I want you to know that my refusal has nothing to do with your loveliness or a lack of affection for you, my dear. It is just that-"
"You don't need to worry about my 'virtue,' Elliott!" Miss Penelope cried, nearly falling from her perch on the bed as she declared her truth. "I just want to give you the only thing I can offer to prove my love."
The poet stared at his love, his mind steadily processing the outburst that interrupted his prepared speech. "Miss Penelope, I - I am flattered, truly. I…" Elliott stumbled over his words briefly, then regained his composure. "But that is not the sole reason I declined your invitation for this evening."
His beloved's face flushed a deep crimson now. "Then why?"
In his attempt to preemptively snuff out any further misunderstanding, Elliott blurted out the core of his confession. "I made love to Cassandra," he began, avoiding Miss Penelope's gaze. "The night of our engagement, we… We were swept up in the passion of the moment and made love."
Elliott pursed his lips. "Since I was a young man, I made a vow to renounce the lifestyle of my scoundrel father, with his mistresses and secret affairs." He could acknowledge what he had done, but the author knew it may change Miss Penelope's opinion of him.
"I cannot describe what I did as a 'mistake,'" Elliott admitted in a low voice. "That would imply that I did not do so intentionally." He still did not dare to look at Miss Penelope's face as the words poured out from his lips like wine.
"I do not regret that night in the sense that in my mind Cassandra was the one I was to marry - the woman who had just agreed to be mine for the rest of our lives." His eyes rested on his folded hands, bridging the gap between his knees.
"And yet…" Elliott felt the weight of his words as they were released into the air between them. "The memory of that night is tainted due in part to the heartbreak that followed when Cassandra broke our engagement. But more importantly, it means that the woman I marry will not be the only woman I make love to in this life, as I had planned."
Elliott finally plucked up the courage to turn his attention toward Miss Penelope. Her reaction to his confession thus far was completely masked. The brunette's face was smooth, neither sulking nor smiling. Since Miss Penelope remained silent, Elliott took the opportunity to continue.
"I understand that this may affect your opinion of me," Elliott explained with a sigh of resignation. "I intend to wait until I am officially married to… indulge in that manner of intimacy once again. This decision of mine is not due to any action on your part." His lips tugged into a downward curve. "I simply do not believe my heart could endure should history repeat itself."
A heaviness hung in the air between them for what seemed an eternity. Finally, Miss Penelope's voice tore through the smothering curtain of awkwardness. "You survived your heartbreak after Cassandra…" The beautiful brunette appeared startled when she heard her own voice, as if she had not meant to articulate her feelings.
Elliott exhaled, the weight of his emotions bogging him down. "Yes, that is true. But only because I had you, Miss Penelope." He could not tell if her statement was meant to console him before she decided to end their relationship or if he should be hopeful they still had a chance. "I am terrified of a life without you, because this love we share is different from my experience with Cassandra. With you, loving feels as natural as breathing."
"So, if we must part ways because of my past," Elliott concluded, "I wish to do so now while I have any chance of recovery. Otherwise, I shall be utterly devastated." He felt his voice tremble, despite the sincerity of his words. "I vow to respect whatever you decide, my dear."
The poet's attention went from the floor to his beloved, and now he could see the tears welling in her emerald eyes. "I-I admit I'm not happy to hear that I won't be your first, but…" her voice cracked as the water flowed freely down her face. "I am glad you told me the truth. It helps me understand you better."
Elliott loathed to see Miss Penelope in tears, yet he knew he was the cause. He hesitated, deliberating whether he should hold her in his arms or remain respectfully distant until she made a move herself. Still, he noticed the way Miss Penelope constructed her sentence quite deliberately. "You mean… you intend to continue our courtship?"
Wiping the tears from her eyes with the sleeve of her sweater, Miss Penelope nodded. "I love you, Elliott." She beamed at him, though her face was red and puffy. "Even if the idea that you've been with someone else makes me…" The beautiful brunette nibbled her bottom lip contemplatively until she settled on, "jealous." Her eyes sheepishly stole a look toward him as she shifted uncomfortably. "I'm sorry, I can't help it. I know it's not fair of me to blame you for loving someone before we even met, but…"
Elliott, swept away in emotion, found himself seated on the bed beside his beloved. He kissed her hand gently, cradling her in his arms. "My heart belongs to you, Miss Penelope," he promised, stroking her back affectionately. "Every morning, I wake up loving you."
She leaned her head into his chest, allowing her body to rest against his. He could feel Miss Penelope's lips stretching back into a smile and he felt his face do the same as he held her.
Violet's face lit up when she saw Sebastian waiting for her under the glow of the lanterns on the dock. The Night Market had not changed much from the night before, the farmer noticed, but that was okay. Tonight, she had a date with her boyfriend to make it special.
Sebastian turned his head when he heard her coming and Violet noticed the dark circles under his eyes. Her immediate assumption was that he was sick. "Are you okay?" the pastel-haired woman asked her significant other.
As if on cue, her boyfriend yawned and closed the book in his hands. "No, I just stayed up all night," Sebastian muttered in confession. He offered the tome to Violet, inviting her to examine its contents. "Someone left a note and a spellbook on the bookshelf for me at my dad's place. I got drawn into trying to translate the damn thing and lost track of time…"
Violet flipped through the first few pages and saw the notes Sebastian left as he tried to figure out the meaning of each symbol. She grimaced at the sight. Some hazy memory flitted at the edge of her consciousness, like a moth in the dark that she could hear, but did not have the proper night vision to see.
The foreign words swam as she tried to scrutinize them further. If only she could focus. "These look… familiar," she concluded, as the frustrating feeling slowly vanished from her mind. "But I can't read what it says." Violet rubbed her eyes, trying to banish the strange itch the words caused.
Sebastian sighed heavily. "Yeah, neither can I," he admitted. "I was hoping it was just a simple cipher, but that doesn't seem to be the case." Violet could tell how grumpy he was from lack of sleep, but what really ate at her boyfriend was that he could not crack the code and access more spells.
"Who gave it to you?" Violet asked. Maybe this mysterious stranger might have better tips for controlling her own magic than Rasmodius. Communing with nature that afternoon had not been completely worthless. She met a few of the local forest spirits in the form of woodland creatures thanks to the Junimos, but like their physical counterparts, they did not want to be disturbed during the Winter season. Violet assumed another teacher might give her tips on what to do in the dead of Winter while most of the spirits slept.
Sebastian shrugged. "The note was signed by 'Mr. Qi,'" he answered, suppressing yet another yawn. His dark eyes glanced over to Violet. "Do you have any idea who that is?" he asked eagerly. The name did not ring a bell and Violet unfortunately did not have any guesses as to who might provide Sebastian with a spellbook. Rasmodius would never lend out a spellbook. The wizard would just hold it hostage in his tower and force anyone who wanted to use it to come to him.
Her boyfriend was disappointed that Violet did not know, but he likely expected that no one in town would. "Is there anything you want to check out in the market?" the dark-haired man suggested, tucking the spellbook into his bag.
"I figured we'd at least stop to get you some of that free coffee."
Sebastian smirked and produced a thermos from the side pocket of his bag. "I was hoping you'd say that!"
Violet laughed, revealing a second thermos from her own backpack. "Great minds think alike!" she giggled, gently ribbing the hoodie-wearer with her elbow. She wondered how he could be so tolerant of the cold with just his usual attire, but Sebastian did not seem to notice.
Sebastian tilted his head questioningly as they made their way toward the coffee merchant. "I thought you didn't like coffee?"
"I don't," Violet admitted, tucking the thermos away again. "But this way, you can bring some of your favorite coffee home," the farmer added with a wink.
Her boyfriend gave her an affectionate look. "You really do love me," Sebastian observed, his eyelids lingering shut a bit longer than usual when he blinked. Violet could tell he was about to fall asleep at any moment. I'm going to have to cut this date short, she supposed. She missed having him around all the time, but Violet knew he would choose to spend time with her tonight and be miserable come morning when he had to leave to go back to ZuZu City.
Sebastian perked up for a little while once they got his free coffee from the woman who offered it. The aroma wafted toward them as the merchant pushed the small lever, releasing a steam of caffeinated liquid into each thermos. Violet was not a fan of coffee without masking its bitter flavor with ridiculous amounts of sugar and cream, but Sebastian's dark roast smelled amazing.
As they walked around to browse, Sebastian slowly became more alert, if not a little jittery. He made a joke about Violet needing a 12-foot pine tree in her house from one of the merchants so that they could get Sam drunk enough to try climbing it. It was a fun idea, but Violet was not about to risk personal injury to any of their friends.
Violet was convinced that the red-eyed figure at the magic shop with a bird perched on their ship was not human. She shared her suspicions with Sebastian. "The way they talk makes it seem so… forced" she observed. "Like a parrot trying not to squawk after repeating a phrase it's heard."
Out of curiosity, Sebastian tried to engage the merchant in a discussion about the goods being sold. But the cloaked merchant only repeated the phrases, "...H-Hello customer… W-Welcome to m-my shop…" and "...E…Each day… S… Something new" in a high, cracking voice.
Violet's boyfriend leaned into her ear. "You're right, they kind of do sound like a parrot." He glanced toward the bird on the roost off to one side. "You think that's their kid or assistant?"
The farmer giggled. "Maybe both?"
The woman then took her boyfriend's hand and led him along the docks to shop as they walked. Violet already had her present for Sebastian, so she was not worried about buying much this evening. She speculated whether her boyfriend had gotten anything for her and if so, what?
After they made a complete circuit around the docks, Violet paused in front of the submarine. "Have you tried this ride before?" she inquired. "Jas claims she saw a mermaid when Emily and I took her last night."
Sebastian sniffed in amusement. "It could have been one of the performers for the mermaid show," he reasoned dismissively. Violet had not thought of that, but when Jas made the fuss last night they were awfully far down in the depths. The farmer doubted that anyone would be able to swim that far down without a proper dive suit. She wondered if Talla had any relatives that lived nearby, or if the mermaids that did their show at the Night Market were genuine.
"... Do you want to try it?" Violet reiterated her question. Sebastian twitched slightly from the coffee surging through his system, reanimating his body that should otherwise be dead asleep by now.
"Sure, I've never been in a submarine before."
The two entered the sea-faring vessel and found themselves in a large, open chamber made entirely of metal and glass. There were a few potted corals on the far side of the submarine next to a large window - probably to enjoy the view during the descent. At the front of the submarine stood the captain, dressed in a crisp uniform complete with a feathered hat. His white mustache was well-kept and he greeted Violet and Sebastian with a hearty hail.
"Ahoy!" he bellowed in a voice that reverberated off the metal walls of the submarine. "Want to take the deep-sea fishing tour? It'll cost ya 1,000 gold."
Violet nodded and paid the man his fee, which he pocketed in one fluid motion while simultaneously pulling the lever to begin the ride. The farmer removed her coat, since was was much warmer inside than it had been out on the docks and tucked it into her bag. She placed it near the coral for now, and Sebastian waved her over to the enormous window. The couple watched as the lights from the outside lanterns were extinguished as soon as the submarine was submerged.
She shivered as the icy temperature of the Winter waters permeated through the window. Violet had no doubt that the submarine was sealed tightly, but warmth was easily sapped from any surface in these conditions. She turned away for a moment to retrieve her coat from her backpack.
Violet shouted in surprise when she felt a bag go over her head, but she quickly realized that Sebastian had lifted the hem of his hoodie over her head to allow her to cuddle up close to him. "Just share with me…" he mumbled, resting his chin on the top of her head.
"How are you so warm in just a sweater?" the farmer griped, jealous of her boyfriend's power. Despite this, Violet huddled close and enjoyed Sebastian's heat radiating from his body.
The wavy-haired woman could not poke her head through entirely, but she could see out well enough to watch as sea creatures slowly drifted by. Besides the school of fish, there was a strange animal that Violet guessed was some kind of jellyfish. It was long, with feather-like tendrils that helped it steer through the current that carried it.
Their world darkened further and the outside was pitch-black, like a starless night sky. "It's beautiful…" Violet breathed. Despite the lack of light, it was clear that the darkness was alive. Every once and a while, she was positive she saw a glimpse of something swimming in the inky black waters in the dim glow of the red light in the submarine.
"Yeah…" Sebastian agreed, angling his head to kiss her. Violet beamed and pressed her lips against his, snaking her arms around him so he was just as trapped as she was enclosed by the fleece hoodie. He did not seem to mind and the two lost themselves in kisses for a few moments while the darkness closed in around them.
Then, the overhead in the submarine turned back on and the captain's signal light green and Violet noticed the field of kelp and coral outside the window. They had reached the ocean floor. The bottom of the vessel slowly opened in the center, revealing a few glowing orbs in the water. Perhaps they were jellyfish or some other luminous fish.
"Can we just snuggle like this all Winter?" she laughed, trying to rotate her body to reach the fishing rod in her bag without leaving the cozy confines of Sebastian's hoodie.
He pinned her arms to her side and nuzzled the back of her neck. "Only if I can do this!" he chuckled, kissing the nape of her neck.
Violet tried to squirm away, but not too much. Sharing a hoodie was a tight squeeze, but still really comfortable. She giggled and half-heartedly objected. "That tickles!"
Sebastian seemed more awake now, and certainly less twitchy from the coffee, but Violet knew her boyfriend would only be able to stay awake until he crashed from sleep deprivation. By her estimations, they had about an hour max. While Sebastian tended to be a night owl, if given the choice, Sebastian was one of those people who needed a good solid chunk of sleep to properly function.
Violet blushed as she felt Sebastian's hands reach under her shirt. She did not object to the touch, but she wanted to at least ensure they were being somewhat discreet. "Hold on!" she scolded him. The dark-haired man grumbled slightly, but waited patiently.
She cleared her throat, and spoke up so the captain around the corner could hear. "I-I don't think we'll be fishing tonight. Do you mind turning the lights down again so we can see outside the window better? I think we'll want to go back to the surface in about an hour."
"Of course, miss." The captain did not sound at all convinced by her lie, but he was far too polite to call her out on it. The floor closed up again and the lights dimmed once again. Once it was dark again, Sebastian took no time in resuming what he started.
Violet stifled a gasp as he massaged and ran his fingers over her body, pulling her against him as he explored. She was frustrated that she was pinned and could not do the same to Sebastian, yet she could feel her body reacting to the touch. "I-I love you…" she moaned softly, trying desperately to keep her voice low enough so that no one else would hear.
"I love you, too, Violet," he whispered hotly in her ear. Sebastian then brushed his lips against the back of her neck. "I missed you…"