(Whoohoo! Topaz again. This took a lot less time than expected! Just one more chapter to go. It probably helps that it's the weekend, and I can work undisturbed for a long time. Maybe I went overboard with this chapter...does it get too lengthy? Anyway, enjoy! -Topaz Fox)

The night's chill seems to set into my very bones. The stars are unusually bright tonight, each a diamond set in one death-black cloth. All around me are fat torches with flames that smell like spice. It the center of all the activity and fiery glow stands Tipa's crystal, magnificent in its jagged, natural glory. It emanates a watery aura of blue and green. Its light, combined with the firelight, melt into my little fluffy wings, turning them into lovely fabrications against my ugly silhouette.

I shiver. Why I have even come is a mystery to me. I tell myself it is because I wish to send my brother off properly, but I know this is not the whole truth. Maybe I came because of the voice inside of me that insisted there was such a thing as true love…

My father had said once that Yukes embodied the fact that love was useless. I remember feeling so shocked, then frustrated and even angry. I had shot back some dim-witted remark or other, and my father had said that Yukes needed only pleasure of the mind, not pleasure of the body or spirit. He had said that such things were utterly useless.

I could not have disagreed with him more.

As if suddenly fueled by this memory, I pick my way through the crowds of excited people. Two words flick into my consciousness. Ter Van. I have to find him, or…or I don't know what might happen.

What was once hesitation has turned into desperation now. I do not know why, but I must find Ter Van. I don't know what I'll do when I find him, but I know I just have to see him and speak with him again. I am a little dismayed by the possibility of making a fool out of myself, but something keeps driving me onward. I've never…felt this way before.

Ter Van has been my friend since we were both very small. He, my brother and I always used to play in the sparkling little brook by his house on hot summer days. In the whole of Tipa, he is perhaps the only non-Yuke who can see past my bronze helmet and awkward shape. This thought comforts me, but is it enough…?

A silver-blue blur catches my eye. I think I can see Ter Van! A kind of slightly uneasy relief sweeps over me as I stumble toward him, but something cuts my plan of action short. The deep voice of Roland, Tipa's mayor, sounds like an old bell over the town. "Will all participants and spectators of the farewell festival please come meet by the town crystal? The celebration is about to begin!"

Everyone in the happy mass of people begins to move in one direction. I am the only one standing still. Lilties and Selkies bump past me, while other Yukes and timid Clavats avoid me like disease. I look around for any sign of Ter Van, but of course he is nowhere in sight.

Slowly, I head back to the crystal. I know the scene fairly well: Roland and the crystal caravan members gathered around the crystal, comical moogles lined up behind them, dancers and musicians taking their places, and the caravan members' families beaming with pride. The surrounding villagers settle into their places easily, as if this were all rehearsed. I shuffle to where my family is standing. My father, mother and sister all simultaneously shoot me dirty looks for being late. I stand next to Fyrella and watch the festivities begin.

Roland raises his hand for quiet, and a hush falls over everyone. Roland mumbles blessing over each caravan member (Caliphen, Ter Van, Elga the Lilty and Anne the Clavat), waving one gnarled hand over each of their heads. He says something about bravery and perseverance—I am not really listening—then goes on to say how every Tipa-lander's hopes are invested in the caravan travelers. With the serious part of the festival over, the "fun" begins.

I realize I'm jealous of the beautiful Selkie dancing girls of Tipa. As the jubilant music picks up, the three of them begin to dance and swing small tambourines about. Everyone watching them must marvel at their charm and grace. I know I do. Something like protest burns deep in me as one of them gets a bit too close to Ter Van.

I wonder what it is like to feel pretty, to not have to worry about hiding your face every day of your life.

Soon all of Tipa is dancing, including the moogles, who can barely jump up and down. Even the village Yukes are attempting to dance. For some unknown reason, I feel an ocean of shame wash up against me, and I can do nothing but slink into the shadows.

The underside of one big torch provides shelter for me. I sit down and watch the happy scene from my hiding place. There is hypnotizing Ter Van, dancing shamelessly. I memorize every inch of his perfect self, then mentally slap myself for being a hypocrite. I am always the one who is against skin-deep beauty, and here I am almost worshipping it.

Sometimes I'm a terribly twisted creature.

I take my eyes from my Wolfie dream and spot my brother. He, too, looks like he is having fun. So does everyone else, actually. From the youngest Lilty child to the most wizened of Yukes, they are all dancing and laughing. I feel like something cold is stabbing my heart. Will I ever be the same as them?

"Rallie?" I jump. Someone's here! And I know that voice…yes…could it be…? There is only one person who calls me by that name…

I turn around slowly and almost stop breathing. There stands my pain and my addiction, with his slim muscularity and his long silver-blue hair, and his unearthly radiance.

"Ter Van. Er…hello."

Ter Van sits on the ground adjacent to me. "Ralthia, what are you doing? Why aren't you having fun with everyone else?" I smile sadly at him, though I know he cannot see my face. "Um…I am just not an 'everyone else' kind of person…and…" I let my voice trail off.

There is a pause. "And what?"

"I don't know." Another pause, this one stiffer than the last. Ter Van peers at me curiously, and I can't help but quiver at the sight of his storm-colored eyes. "Are you okay?" he murmurs, genuine concern in his voice. Everything is tensed and silent around us, mimicking a beast about to pounce.

"…No. I guess not." As soon as the words leave my mouth, I can tell there is a change in the atmosphere. Selkies are like animals in the way they can detect and read the slightest disturbance. Does Ter Van know my thoughts?

He regards me delicately. "Should I even ask why?" This is it. The moment I've been waiting for. Every fiber of my being shudders with a mix of gratitude and disbelief. At last, I speak the words that must come: "It's…you."

Ter Van's slender eyebrows shoot up. "What?"

I cannot go back now. This is the point of no return.

"It's you," I repeat gently. "Just…all of you. Your laugh, your eyes, your words…your perfection is eating me alive. I…have…feelings…for you. I have been consumed with this fear, this terrible, plague-like fear, worrying what would happen if I ever confessed my…" I choke on the word. "My…love for you. I was worried about what you would do or say. I was fearful that you would reject me, or worse, ridicule me, because I am a Yuke. And for all this time, I haven't known what to do." There. The words are out.

Putting it lightly, Ter Van looks shocked. Shocked or disgusted…was this a mistake? I cannot help but feel a fluttery uneasiness. All I can do now is wait for a reaction.

After what seems like two eternities, Ter Van's eyes soften. He smiles and, without saying anything, takes one of my monstrous striped hands. Reverberations of surprise and pleasure twist up and down my spine. He takes each of my thick fingers and slides his own fingers along them. "I've never felt a Yuke's hand before," he whispers, closing his eyes.

A tiny smudge of a smile is playing on his lips. "Your skin feels nice. Kinda like worn leather." I quiver blissfully. Nobody has ever said good things about any of my physical aspects. It feels…beautiful, even if the compliment is as small as someone describing your skin.

For the first time in my life, I do not feel like a Yuke; I do not feel like a Clavat, Lilty, or Selkie, for that matter. I feel purely and wholly Ralthia.

My hand is released. Ter Van stands up, and I stand with him. I observe how much greater I am in stature than he. I am tall for a Yuke, and Yukes are already quite tall by nature. Yet, in the starlight and firelight, our startling height differences do not matter.

Ter Van looks up at me almost boldly. "Rallie, you didn't need to worry about what'd I do or say. And laugh at you? Please. This is me we're talking about." He grins lopsidedly. Quickly, though, the grin wavers. "But I gotta say, this is a little…awkward. I never imagined that you…" He doesn't finish his sentence. Instead, he takes both of my hands in his. They feel laughably small, yet big as mine in presence. I do not know how that would be possible, that something could be small but seem big in spirit, but then I remember love.

"Rallie. I don't know much about you. Well, I know stuff about you, but I don't know the real you. I may know Rallie, but I don't know Ralthia."

"I suppose that's because we never talked to each other like…adults. We've always been children."

"Maybe."

There is a brief pause for the conversation to catch its breath. Ter Van grips my hands tighter and goes on, "Like I said, I don't know the real you. When I go away, keep in touch with me. I promise I'll write back every single time I get a letter from you. And maybe, when I come back, I'll love you. Love in the mature sense, of course. I've always loved you as my best friend."

He tilts his head to the side. "Although…it will be weird, dating my closest childhood friend." The fact that he does not mention my being a Yuke confounds me, yet delights me. I remind him of our very obvious racial differences, but he only laughs. "You think that matters?"

Ter Van rummages through a leather pouch at his side and produces a small seal embossed with a rose. "Seal all your letters with this," he says. "That way, I'll know they're from you without you having to write your name." He winks in his beguiling Selkie way. "And it's more mysterious that way, you know?"

This feels like a dream. If it is some trick of the mind or mirage of the heart, then never let me see the truth. Something—perhaps my soul—tells me that this is the truth.

"Come on," says Ter Van, dropping my hands. "Let's get back to the festival. They might start a search party or something." I follow him in a giddy, dreamlike trance.

This has to be the best night of my entire life.