Okay, this time I've only got about twenty minutes, but I'm gonna see what I can slap together. Again, forgive the typos, grammar, spelling, etc. But if it's not ready to suit, then I'll work on it later. As it is I've already revamped a little of the first chapter. Now without further ado. Enjoy!
Umi sat on the balcony, listening to the same wind chime as she brushed her hair. She smiled. She had given him that wind chime when she came back twenty Cephirian days ago. She, like Hikaru and Fuu, didn't plan on crossing the portal again for another couple of weeks. For Umi, there was more contemplating to do. There was a string connecting her with someone or something in Cephiro. Ascot was obvious, he couldn't play hard to get if his life depended on it (and isn't it just more fun that way?). His stumbling attempts at anything other than a friendly conversation were cute… but that was all Ascot was anymore, was "cute."
No woman looks for cuteness in a man does she? Umi was to that point in adolescence when the girl goes to sleep and the woman starts looking around. Call it biological instincts, advanced instincts. Such caveman carelessness in choosing a man only leads to misery, Umi thought. She giggled. In her mind she sounded like she was shopping for (like an animal she thought) a mate. She was only seventeen now. Maybe in Cephiro women would marry that young, but judging from how old her intimate friends were… she doubted that.
A gust sent the wind chime dancing. Calling.
"Why not," she said to herself. She finished the last of the tangles then ran inside before the wind undid all her work.
Passing a mirror in the hallway, she paused and pursed her lips. She shook her head, "No," she said, "I don't look slutty." Still, she turned sideways and around. She wore a sheer blue gown, sleeveless (save for the Chizetan sleeves from the top of the bicep to her wrist). Woven, silver chains held up her short, halter top like spaghetti straps and wove themselves in a spider web down past her shoulder blades. The outfit wasn't too scanty for the company.
Ascot would lose his fury little mind though. And his cheeks were never redder than when he passed her in the hall. She smiled as he turned his face away to hide the glow, waited a moment (her little test that Ascot would never know), then walked on to the heavy oak doors.
Hairbrush in hand, she knocked on the door.
"Come in," his voice called.
She sighed; his tone wasn't agitated so he wasn't that busy. Pushing the door open and poked her head in. "Would you mind some company?" she asked.
Clef looked up, delight on his face, then back down at the documents and tossed his quill down. "Not at all," he said. "I could use a break."
Some break, she thought. She remembered her questions the moment he gestured for her to have a seat. The trivial conversation didn't last long, and he read the silence.
"This may just be a shot in the dark (as you say), but is there something on your mind?" he asked.
She smiled. "You're good." She took a sip from the teacup in her hand and contemplated the best way she could start. "You know, I'm not really sure how to say this without making it sound rediculous."
He smiled. "Take your time, I'm in no hurry." The way he said it practically begged her to take as much time as she could, ready or not. "Believe me."
She giggled. "Isn't there anyone else who could help you with that mess?"
He sighed, "I've tried to train others... but things got lost, sent to the wrong people, mistranslations-" He waved his hand. "It didn't work." She could tell by the gleam in his eye and the way he stroked his bottom lip he was remembering an amusing scene. "You've heard of replication right? Uh... cloning, I think is the Earthen term." She nodded, pressing her knuckles to her lips to keep from laughing. "Yes, I tried that too. And I couldn't keep myself happy with things I did in my own system."
She bit her lip and asked quizzically. "Just for curiosity sake, how many clones did you make."
He paused, "Oh, somewhere in the neighborhood of two or three."
"Did anyone get confused?"
"Yet another reason I chose to negate them." Leave it to Clef to say "terminate" politely.
The wind chime sang again, drawing Clef's eye to the window. A soft smile graced his lips and the angle of his head perfectly displayed the childish curve of his jaw. The sunlight set his hair aglow. "Looks lovely outside," he mused.
An idea struck her. "It is," she said. "I've been out in the gardens once already today and I highly recommend it."
He smiled to the window.
Seems he needs a nudge, she thought. Picking up her dress from the floor, she stood and set her cup down. "Shall we then?"
He sighed, the glow fading from his face as his smile fell. "Not that I wouldn't love to Lady Umi," he said, regaining the formalities (a habit he had recently started). "But I should get back to work."
"Then is the wind chime the only company you'll keep 'til dinner?" she asked with a smile.
"Unfortunately," he sighed.
Perhaps today's not the day, she thought. She watched him walk back across the room to his desk and sit down heavily. "Another time then?" she asked.
He turned and smiled (almost sadly). "I'd like that milady."
She walked softly out of the room. She knew how hard it was for him to regain his concentration. Even the slightest sound might distract him, or worse, lite his temper. Before she closed the door behind her, she took one final glance at him. Poor Clef, she thought. If I had that many papers to look at I'd go crazy. Heh... and here I complain about research papers. She sighed quietly. I wish I could help him somehow... that and I wish he'd take a day off or two. Cephiro wouldn't collapse if he wasn't at his desk twenty-four-seven. She carried her thoughts with her down the hall until a voice called her back.
"Lady Umi," Clef called.
She turned, face aglow with a bright smile. "Yes?"
The smile didn't seem to phaze him. He walked toward her calmly. "I realize I completely sidestepped what was on your mind earlier. And if there is anything I can do to help, please, let me know." (Again, his voice was begging)
"I would love to talk Clef," she said. Though now a shyness was creeping down over her face. The talk she thought she was prepared for was suddenly so exposing. And most importantly, she didn't want him getting the wrong impression (with his advanced age and experience with people, she didn't know what his mind would come up with). He had seemed so eager to get out of his study. She needed more time to think, but her lips parted to speak. "My mind is still a little hazy at the moment." He nodded, the hope in his eyes dimmed. "Especially since I can't think very well in the castle." He looked up. She shrugged. "I don't know why, but I think better out in the gardens."
His azure eyes sparkled with his smile. "So do I." He took a quick glance down the hall to his right. "Lafarga usually comes with some sort of errand for me this time of day."
"Are you going to wait for him?" she asked.
"No," he said. "I think I shall be missed this once."
She smiled. "Come with me then, I'll show you my favorite garden."
"Ah..." Clef said as he gazed about the garden while Umi sat down by the broken pillar. "I haven't been here in a long while. Last I remember, these white roses had just been planted. Now look at them!"
"They're beautiful aren't they?" she asked.
He turned to her and the excitement softened into something else. "Indeed, they are."
She felt her cheeks warm so she turned her face toward the breeze off the water.
Clef seemed antsy all of a sudden. He brought his arm across his chest and stretched it, then the other arm, but the bejeweled collar wouldn't let him stretch far. Umi kept her face turned away as though she didn't care to notice him taking off the "harness" (as she called it) and headdress. Next Clef removed the billowing white cloak that hung open now with its fasten gone. He laid it on the ground like a picnic quilt. Umi shifted onto it after he sat down, but didn't look at him. She pretended to sort out her thoughts instead.
"Thank you," Clef said (something was different about his voice). "I needed to get out of there."
"You're welcome."
They sat in silence, enjoying the day. Clef didn't push for a conversation and Umi didn't squirm in the quiet calm. Seems silly to say they were getting used to each other (like animals do), but that's how the outsider would see it. Clef was letting down his shield against people just by following Umi to the garden. And Umi was getting over the fear of embarassment almost everyone had when trying to talk to the Master Mage.
But she wasn't the one to speak first.
"Now I remember this garden," Clef mused. Umi finally set her eyes on him and listened. "The pillar behind you was tall then."
"I've been meaning to ask someone what happened to it."
"I'll get to that."
Now she was interested. It's not very often men speak in metaphors. The two words may start with the same two letters... but that's as far as the connection goes. As it had been with her experience, Umi found most guys begged for Layman's terms. If she had a dime for everytime anybody asked her to simplify her sentences, she could retire without ever putting in an application!
Clef continued and pointed to the weeping cherry tree Umi ususally sat under. "I remember... a young blackbird used to sit in those branches and pretend its coarse feathers could reflect the sun like silver glass, that the soft blossoms were just a triffle addition -the best the garden had to offer him. Day in and day out, I watched this little fellow sing his heart out for the females. And day in-day out I saw every single one of them reject him. Spring came and left. His feathers grew more coarse and he hid them among the cherry tree's lush foliage. Summer fed into autumn, and the leaves fell. Still he sang. Now he was simply ignored, nothing to hide his imperfections. Come end of autumn, I found him dead. I buried him with the roses and that very night a storm broke the pillar in two." He paused. "I figured that meant some men just aren't meant to find a mate."
Translation anyone?
Umi smirked softly. It was obvious who the blackbird was, but as she looked at Clef, she knew therewasn't a red-blooded woman who would turn him away. The coarse feathers stood for either Clef's self-doubt (complications with the quality of attempted matches -he is the Master Mage after all) or what was left of his own feathers after the inevitable parting between him and another woman. She knew from the Sphinx's riddle that the changing of seasons stood for the passing of time (which the Sphinx explained as "morning," "noon," and "evening"), which would attribute to Clef's astounding age. The cherry blossoms changing to summer foliage might mean nothing at all or it could mean he tried a new approach when considering a match. The little blackbird's death was easy: Clef gave up. The storm erupted from despondency and disappointment, hence Clef's "tall" self spliting in two to create the "small" child. So why bury the bird under the roses instead of under the cherry tree? Ever bury a dead animal under a growing plant and have it bloom in abundance? Then, perhaps, you've never cultivated hope. Clef may be an old, "lovesick," fool, but he had enough sense to wait for a "good soul" to finish growing.
Still, he had changed. His face was older, his body more masculine. If he'd turned his head to let her look in his eyes, she would have seen the wall fall, exposing a heart fighting the construction of a chrome exterior. He was ready to trust again, or had at least forced himself to take a chance.
She smiled and laid her head on his shoulder. "Sing for me, little blackbird," she whispered.
Clef didn't say anything, he just smiled and let out a silent sigh. Then, closing his eyes, he leaned against his stability.
END
Whadya think? Yepper, that thing was jam-packed full of metaphors. The important onesI explained, but there's still a lot of food for thought. R&R and make sure you give me what you thought the white roses stood for. Cya!