Guest (1): I know you wished for a quick update, so sorry. It took a while to get this together with other stories and real life. But hope you like this one and sorry for the wait.
Random Guest: Don't worry about the swearing. Powerful language only adds to the fact how much you mean it. Thanks! And yes, this is a romantic story and Yunan and OC will eventually have that kind of a relationship. And I know how few Yunan related OC stories are out there and maybe that is why I wanted to do this in the first place. Have fun reading!
Guest (2): You asked for Yunan's POV, right? Well, I have luckily planted one into this chapter :).
DeLacus: Thank you for your support. I am honestly always worrying about how I write the characters of my story – not the OC ones. But I am glad that you like the Yunan I have been writing of.
Guest (3): Don't worry! Eventually, all friends (or romantic partners) are protective of each other :). I certainly hope that I will succeed in making it seem natural, though.
Please, don't murder me. How many months has it been since I updated this story? Now that I look at it, I realize how much neglect it has been suffering (crying). Anyway, old story short – school, life, no inspiration etc. Only recently did I pick myself up, sat down and started writing this chapter. This is actually good because exams are coming soon (crying, again) and I luckily managed to finish this chapter before all that has happened.
Now, all apologizing is out of the way, so I sincerely wish you all still following loyal followers to enjoy this chapter.
Jessy is uncomfortable to the kind of level where the earth could swallow her up and she would thank it with her life. She has been sitting extremely still for what feels now like an hour, just staring around and then looking down at the ground. There are, her green eyes look up to see two small children run past her while laughing, so many people here. As if making everything more overwhelming for her on purpose, a bunch of men sitting nearby her occupied area bark out in laughter, loudly.
It is so strange – not too long ago, Jessy was becoming a hermit in a house in the middle of the Great Rift. There has only been her and the magi there, in what is almost a suffocating silence and antisocial environment outside. Truthfully, Jessy hadn't thought about going out that hard. She was happy to stretch her legs and see the sun again, but… her hands are currently so slippery that wouldn't probably be able to hold a fork if she wanted to.
The fabric of the shirt the young woman is wearing is also not the ideal one if one were to sweat out of nowhere. There are definitely dark spots on the strangely greyish color in her armpits. The temperature of the day full of sun's shine is also making the air dry and hot.
Nobody is talking to her. They just keep on sending her glances.
"Dear girl," a raspy voice says kindly and Jessy tilts her head up to see an elderly woman smiling at her, "there is no need to be so tense."
The brunette can only reward her attempt of an encouragement with an awkward smile. This attempt hurts her cheeks. "Do… do you have some kind of party now, or?"
The old eyes blink. "No. This is pretty much how we always spend our meal times."
"You mean," Jessy trails off and looks around herself, "everyone from the village gathers like this?"
"Yes," she nods with a warm smile and also looks around as well. "After all, we are all family here. It would be strange to eat separately."
In the green eyes of a woman from a much modern world, this all looks bizarrely like from a cultural festival. The people – the Torran tribe – bring Native Americans into her mind, as well. It must be because of the paints on their faces, their houses, or just about their whole natural appearances. Not to mention, she can admit that at first, she had stared at the feathers attached to the circles around their heads. The thought makes Jessy smile, just a little bit. It is more like a theme park, to be honest. James and Oliver would probably…
That smile is wiped away from her face instantly. She nearly forgot that this place is not anywhere near her home. And yet here she is thinking of her step-siblings as if she could actually show them this. There is no doubt that they would be ecstatic, but just thinking about them makes Jessy's chest clench.
Not wanting to start a scene by crying, the brunette takes a piece of meat on her plate and starts chewing on it while watching the pattern of a carpet she is sitting on. It feels nice, but also so foreign to her. This is not how she is used on eating, much less without a roof on top of her head. Any second a bird could come and snatch their food, too.
"Waaah!" A scream nearly makes her choke on the food. "Someone! Help!"
A chorus of chuckles and laughs fills the area and everyone's attention is drawn to the male clad in green clothes. Yunan is clutching his staff, looking ready to cry as a horde of children is pestering him like a wall all around him. He looks more like a leaf trembling in the wind.
The sight makes Jessy snort and her shoulders start to shake. She covers her mouth, food nearly escaping from it. I am going to choke again! Despite that thought, she chuckles. Yunan looks too comical for her not to have any amusement from seeing his distressed state.
Though, that delight fades, when she takes a note of how he really starts crying and beginning even louder. The children aren't even doing much to him – few are pulling on his long hair and others on his clothes, trying to drag him into different directions like a ragdoll. The smile is completely wiped off from Jessy's face and she looks at the old woman who stands up and stomps towards the magi and children. The kid's freeze, when the elder yells at them with a language unknown to the younger woman who has been left to sit alone.
Once Yunan is free from the children, he runs to the spot where his female companion is eating, looking every bit relieved as he can be. Many strands from his long braid have untangled, though, and are now sticking to different directions.
The magi sits down, backing away from the direction of the chattering children like they would run back to him and he should be ready to bolt.
Jessy smirks and mutters: "Serves you right for leaving me."
His glazed over eyes turn immediately to her and she stiffens, flush coloring her cheeks in embarrassment. Right, his good hearing and all! In a second, she is idly playing with her food and looking away, preferring if he just forgot what she said.
"Are you still nervous?" He asks, and she stiffens further. This obvious reaction makes him chuckle. "Nobody is going to bite or throw stones at you, you know."
"It seems that she is a shy one, Yunan," the same old lady from before sits down, the unnecessary comment making the younger one feel more flustered.
The green-eyed woman just wants to disappear. She has not been able to come up with any decent topic to start a conversation with these people – the old woman is pretty much the only and probably the only willing person to even talk with her around here. In the anime – or more precisely the manga – it is a pretty solid fact how the Torran tribe members are towards the outsiders. They are hostile, but she was surprised by how at ease they have been with Yunan. Or maybe it is because I look too suspicious? The thought sounds too ridiculous, but she is an outsider, so… Yeah, they may not like me.
Jessy munches the food again, trying to get rid of the depression suddenly looming over her head. The Rukh is cheerful, compared to her. It flies carelessly around the village, the people who have smiles on their faces. There is no malice nor do the golden birds make any sort of movements indicating aggression.
Though, that all limits to the brunette who only has few simply fluttering near her shoulders. They sometimes touch her, fly away and come back again after what feels like minutes. It is like she is a momentary object of interest and then she is not even there. She already feels like a sore thumb – the kind that is black and throbbing and what someone wants to cut off – when sitting amongst the villagers, but even those things that are supposed to be invisible to others pick her out as something different. She had thought that there were many surrounding her back at Yunan's house, but it is nothing compared to how many there are flying wild out here.
She looks down at her hand holding the food. For a second, she does not see her hand there and only some kind of force holding the piece of meat up in the air. And thus, the woman wonders, if she is even truly here.
If the source of life in this place isn't there – in her, then… The food tastes dry in her mouth all of sudden.
"Oh, where are my manners!" The elder woman cuts of her deep thoughts by exclaiming. "My name is Taran. It is nice to meet you, Jessy. Now, tell me how you and Yunan here met. It is certainly an unusual sight to see him come here with someone – usually, he just spends most of his time in that shack of his. Honestly, I sometimes have no idea how he can live in such a dark place."
The brunette glances at the golden-haired man who chuckles lightly with a stiff face. It actually looks a bit hurt. "Please, do not insult my home."
Taran huffs and crosses her arms. "I certainly shall. Since when was the last time you even visited us? Not to mention had dinner with us? Truly Jessy, dear, how on earth did you come to meet this scatterbrain?"
Her throat tightens. For a moment, this short interacting between the magi and the elder woman had been entertaining, but now the attention is on her and she doesn't know what to say. She glances at Yunan, silently asking what she should do. He merely smiles back and her facial muscles twist for a second there. It is okay… to tell her?
"I," she starts, throat muscles tightening uncomfortably to form words, "was… injured and Yunan helped me."
Taran's eyebrows rise up to the hairline, deepening the wrinkles on the forehead. "Injured? What happened?"
Jessy shifts, lips thinning from the following question. Her eyes drop from Taran's warm brown ones to the ground uncertainly, trailing off. She almost wants to open up about those injuries she got, how and where she got them, almost. The vivid images in her head are keeping her lips glued together tightly and her hands clench from the same reason. The air is carefree and still so sunny that it's blinding, the members of the Torran tribe are chattering, eating and laughing, but Jessy can't feel those sensations anymore, the kinds any happy moment could bring. What happened? Cold sweat goes down her entire back, more than once.
She doesn't like sitting on this spot anymore – no more food. Jessy's stomach clenches and her green eyes narrow at the bowl of fruits directly at her point of view. It is too hot; the ground is too hard, and she is sweaty. With the appetite lost – together with a voice – the young woman remains silent.
Jessy's isn't upset. On the contrary, she is thinking deeply, half-feeling how harshly she is frowning and twisting the fabric of her shirt's hem in her clenched grasp. The world blurs and she can image sitting on the front seat of a car again. Hands on a steering wheel, glancing at her father a few times and watching the road ahead. How could such a peaceful day – just like this one – turn into a one living hell? Or was the day so peaceful after all? Nothing is touching her, but she feels as if her heart is being squeezed hard, as the bangs of her hair hide partially the side of her face.
In the end, she ends up picking an apple, stiffly. And without a word, bites down into it, leaving Taran's question hanging in the air.
She can feel Yunan's hesitant gaze on her but doesn't look up to meet it. That is probably the wisest action she has done thus far. For when they left the village, she had felt like an idiot. The young woman hadn't uttered a word, even when she received smiles from the other people. They may have warmed up to her presence for some weird reason – or they saw that she is a simple woman – but Jessy doesn't even feel happy from that.
There are hollowness and depression clearly written on her face and Jessy just knows it. Her chest clenches for what feels like the hundredth time when her eyes rise up to see an unfamiliar path and scenery.
Her head is heavy and so is her chest. It is like someone stuffed them with a bunch of rocks. A quiet sigh comes out of her mouth and her shoulders slump slightly. What is wrong with me? Unconsciously, she squeezes a small brown package – a gift from Taran. Inside, there are clothes that she was given.
"You didn't like it here?" Yunan finally asks calmly.
"No that is not it," she says – rather too quickly – and then raises her eyes to the road. It isn't a pavement and the fact makes her frown. "They were… really nice."
The half-hearted words seem to make Yunan cheer up slightly, judging by his next words. "We could go to their festival tomorrow."
He is trying to be positive, he is trying to stay calm and optimistic – he could be forcing it, though. The last thing Jessy really needs now is to throw herself at a party she has no idea of. She just stiffens further from the thought and purses her lips. A vague recall of the passing by conversation between Yunan and Taran does pop into her head and so does the topic of a celebration, but that is mostly it.
Hesitantly, she opens her mouth. There has to be a way she can sound genuinely lost rather than annoyed and unwilling. No matter how blue she is feeling right now, Jessy wouldn't even consider parties back at home. Usually, she would only sit by the corner or sit generally with her friends chatting. Plus, she has never really seen anything grand or fun in those types of gatherings.
"I am not sure. I am not really good with… those kinds of things" is her lame answer.
"D-don't say that without trying," he says with a slight stumble on his tone. Green eyes look at him from the side to see that he is looking ahead with an uneasy expression on his face. At the moment she blinks, he also looks at her and a small smile forms on his face. "It won't do any good stay in the house all the time."
He is right. Jessy does admit that she might as well as be alienating herself from the outside world. Although, she isn't from this place, to begin with, so she might as well as be an alien enough around here. Is there a real reason for her even being here? Just what…
"Didn't Taran mention something about you constantly staying in that hut of yours most the time?" She asks suddenly, eyes brightening a shade and sliding towards the magi who stiffens. Jessy can't help but chuckle at his stricken face.
"N-not you, too," he mumbles, the tip of his hat seeming to sink down with his shoulders. "My home is so warm and cozy and dark and looks so small and-"
Jessy chuckles again, a faint sound. "Alright, alright, I get it. You aren't an outdoor person."
He is not real.
It comes out of nowhere and the thought makes the laughter die in her throat. There is a glimmer of a smile slowly forming on the blue-eyed man's face, but he probably does not notice her swift change of mood. No, he is real. Real flesh and blood. Which reminds the brunette yet again that this is not a fantasy land, nor will she be waking up any time soon. So why is she laughing so lightheartedly? This situation isn't to be taken like this – this is serious. If there is no way back, then she will be stuck here. And like back at the village, Jessy's mouth dries from the thoughts forming in her head all of sudden. This time, almost nothing has seemed to trigger them.
Silently biting down on her lip and swallowing a lump in her throat, Jessy continues walking, eyes staring forward. This isn't what she could have ever imagined experiencing with such raw emotions – homesickness. It hurts; seeing the Torran tribe members together with their families was such a bitter experience.
The package in her hands can work as a comfort, for now, is what Jessy thinks as she presses it closer. It wrinkles at the same time her face muscles are forcibly relaxed. In the end, there is no other option for her. The young woman will have to wait – desperately, scared, confused – and see what will happen. But, if Yunan can't do a thing, then…
"…alright?"
Jessy looks at Yunan to see him looking at her questionably. She blinks and then wonders if he was asking about her current wellbeing. "Hm? Yeah."
A sudden smile spreads on his face as if her answer was enough to make his day better. "Here we go, then."
Green eyes have only a few seconds to blink before they widen to the size of plates.
Jessy can't feel the ground beneath her feet anymore. The solidness is gone, and her point of view is rising – the edge of the Great Rift's cliff is lowering before her. The wind blows against her back and then suddenly shifts when the woman's entire world starts spinning. It is like slowly rising on a rollercoaster and her heart nearly leaps out of her chest. The breath is caught in Jessy's throat when she looks down to see her feet dangling in the air. W-what!? Dread fills her stomach and her face pales, she could faint right here and now and be happily oblivious to what is happening.
The Great Rift is now in her full view, no more just the edge and the skyline, but the deep darkness it has spread all over its grounds. There could be no better way to express it, than calling the whole thing one giant black hole. And Jessy is about to be swallowed. This time, her heart doesn't almost leap out of her ribcage – it stops.
From pure reflex, her arms start failing around, the package falls, and a pure scream of terror rips out of her throat. "Get me down! Get me down! Getmedowngetmedowngetmedown!"
"Jessy!" Yunan's voice is suddenly very close to her.
On the right! Without much of a thought, Jessy reaches out with tears nearly flowing out of her eyes. Her hands grab something – fabric – and use that to pull herself closer to the magi who lets out a surprised sound. The woman's fingers cling to him with everything she has got and then quickly wrap around his shoulders in desperation. I am going to die!
"P-put me down!"
"Eh?" He actually sounds surprised but does place one hand on her back. "Didn't you say you agree on flying back?"
Furiously, Jessy shakes her head, not caring if her hair is whipping his face. "N-no! I don't want to! Put me down! Please! Yunan! Transport! Transport us back! I am dying! I am going to die!"
"C-calm down. It's alright," Yunan says softly, despite the woman screaming near his ear.
His hand changes to the length of his entire arm wrapping around her back and her arms tighten around him in return. Jessy doesn't dare to open her eyes and buries her face into his shoulder, feeling how her entire body is trembling like a leaf. If there is one thing that is nearly as equal as the terror of the thought to live in another world, then it is the gravity of the heights.
Clinging to the only solid thing available, Jessy holds onto Yunan as her life depends on it. Though, she admits that it is his arm, which stays firmly around her, that calms the fear down a bit – the kind of amount you could find with a microscope. She can feel the strands from his long braid brushing against her face and nearly shrieks from the light sensation, thinking that it is some weird creature trying to scare her.
What feels like an eternity comes to an end when her feet touch the ground. They are jelly-like now, but a great flood of relief washes over the brunette and she lifts her head up to meet with a pair of blue eyes.
"You are alright, now," Yunan says with a reassuring smile. "We can go back with some other way. Don't cry, now."
Cry? Lifting her hand and separating herself from him, Jessy wipes her face, flushed. She staggers, though, and has to rely on the magi's support, when he reaches out to place his hands on her shoulders. She is grateful – both from him lowering them down to the ground and from not letting her fall just now.
"Thanks," she mumbles, but then shyly distances herself again.
Out of nowhere, a warm hand lands on top of her head, it strokes her locks softly in a calm manner. Green eyes rise up to see Yunan once again smiling warmly. And despite the slowly forming look of irritation forming on Jessy's face, he does not stop. Instead, his stroking grows fonder.
"There, there. That's a good girl."
Jessy frowns and steps back, her tranquility fading. She feels somewhat insulted and glares up at him. "I am not a child."
He tilts his head, a glimmer of mischief in those blue orbs. He laughs, the Rukh around him twittering without a care in the world and nearly covering his entire form with their smaller ones. Yunan is amused and the golden birds seem to catch that rather easily.
The words on the book are peculiar and she doesn't know how to truly begin translating them. This world's language is rather simple when you think about it. All Jessy has to do is to see a symbol and say it in her native language, in English. Though, the only problem she is currently having is knowing what each symbol is. This is like what? Japanese? Chinese? She has no idea what to think anymore.
"The world," she starts slowly, finger trailing against the patterns of the letters, "was – something – red and – something – bright with… something."
Frustrated, Jessy scribbles the unknown symbols down to the paper and scratches those that she doesn't get right. By now, she has over three pages of used paper and the number would grow without a doubt. The book she is reading isn't even thick and barely average, but this is how much progress she has been making. There is an atmosphere of schooling inside the small library room and it makes her think back to her school years almost every few minutes.
The door opens just as she is about to close the book. Yunan steps in with a tray and a steaming cup on it. "How is it?"
Jessy almost wants to lie but decides to shake her head and close the book. She has given up. "I understand some of it but look at the list I got."
Blue eyes glance towards the table with papers full of scribbles, before turning back to the brooding woman. Her sour expression does not affect him, though, and soon he sits down with the tea on the opposite side of the table. Despite him acting like there is nothing wrong, Jessy feels slight guilt for outright telling him how poorly she has progressed.
Looking down at her hands, the young woman leans back and bites her inner cheek thoughtfully. Though, compared to how she was at the beginning, this is an improvement. She could barely grasp the basic characters a week ago, but with nothing else to do in this house, Jessy has had some time in her hands. To put it frankly, she has been too bored for the past few days and somewhat misses watching tv and browsing through social media.
Yunan reaches out to take a few papers she has written on and his eyes scan each and every word. "This," he points at the first one she wrote, "is a character for 'peace'."
Jessy takes the paper back and writes the word below the character in English. "What about this other one?"
"That is another character for a 'woman', but in a politer way. For example, you meet a woman from a wealthy household and have to address her appropriately."
Ojousan? That is the first word that pops into Jessy's head. She writes it quickly down at well. "I see."
She waits for him to continue giving her answers to the characters, but when nothing comes in a while she looks up to see him staring at the writings she has done. Yunan's blue eyes are curious, very much so that he seems to be leaning over to get a better look. "Your world's writing style is very interesting. How do you use it?"
There is a new silence in the room. Jessy hadn't expected him to suddenly ask such a thing but then remembers that to him her home is just as alien as this place is to her. Thinking briefly of this short fact gives her some superiority confidence – finally, there is something that even Yunan is puzzled over.
A bit excited and nervous, Jessy smiles. "Well, h-how do I put this? We write according to… the sounds we make?" Her face flushes from the pathetic attempt of explaining. "I-in my world, we have something called alphabet. It is not like the symbols you have been trying to teach me, but rather a single letter or a symbol is a sound that we have to pronounce… F-for example, my name 'Jessy' has these alphabets – letters – in it."
As she starts writing with a flush on her cheeks, Jessy manages to glance up at Yunan to see him staring at her work intently. He has a slight frown on his face – a slight and barely noticeable one under the brim of that large green hat. He is truly interested in learning about her world's writing style.
Better not screw this up, then.
"The first letter is j and it will be connected with the next letter of my name which is e. These will produce a sound 'je'."
"And the rest?" The magician asks curiously, eyes not straying from the paper even for a second.
"These two curves are for the 's' sound and this is y. And that is how the last sound of my name is made – S. S. Y."
"'Ssy'," Yunan says softly and then looks up at her. There is yet again a glimmer in those blue irises and they are looking at her with bright excitement. "Jessy, could you show how my name is written, please?"
This might as well as be the first time that she has seen him so enthusiastic about something. Truthfully, they have not known each other that long, but through every hectic thing – emotion tantrums she has caused – this reaction is the first one she has seen. Yunan has a tendency to act or look like an innocent child, but now he is practically begging her.
Seeing that a simple thing such as alphabet made him so cheerful makes her feel lighthearted as well. It makes her feel as if she knows more than he. But at the same time, it also gets rid all of the negative stuff in her head and allows her to feel giddy. In the past, she would have merely dreamed of this moment. About when she could teach magi – it is rather astonishing when you think about it. Yunan has seen more than she has, even died and come back to live in a new body over and over again. He has been to different places while she has mostly stayed back at home and city. Honestly, she should have nothing that she could teach the golden-haired man.
Still smiling and feeling quite happy, the young woman starts teaching the centuries-old magi. And she doesn't think of what that might transpire, she doesn't even let the negative thoughts mull her head.
She is now alone in the small library, drinking down the homemade tea and savoring the somewhat bitter taste of it. Jessy doesn't mind it. Any kind of sweet taste would without a doubt send her into a dream world and she couldn't have that. Though, even now, her eyelids are struggling to stay up and not block her vision.
The young woman is still trying to read the book she has been given, without any real and satisfying results. The symbols look more like useless curves, now.
The whole thing closes, as Jessy stands up with a sight and pops few bones in the process. There should be other things to read in this place rather than this. It is supposedly one of the easiest ones, according to Yunan. But she is really not getting into it. There seems to be almost no substance in the tale – it is either that or how slowly she is going forward in it with her extremely sluggish reading pace.
However, despite not being a national library or anything major, this space still contains a vast number of books and scrolls. So, when Jessy stands before the first shelf, she is not quite sure what to pick. It is slightly funny – weeks ago Jessy couldn't have cared less about reading and here she is now.
The names of the books she picks up are mostly things she can't understand. The characters aren't familiar in any way nor can she be that sure she gets them right.
Maybe I should… Her thoughts are cut off by one of the golden Rukh landing on an open page. Its wings twitch, but it doesn't move away, which makes Jessy raise an eyebrow. She almost wants to shoo it away with her hand – like a bug – but refrains from doing so. Does it want something? She nearly laughs a second after that thought. Yeah, right.
"If you want to hang out, then help me pick a book, please," she says out of fun and places the thing down. The small bird has not yet moved, but she turns away and starts looking for something else.
Her hand has not skimmed over three books when there is a loud thud sound. Jessy jumps and turns around in a rush, only to see a book laying on the ground and open. A bunch of Rukh birds is flying around it and the pages get turned. It stops only at the first page and then the golden birds scatter everywhere as they had never even been near the object.
Confused – more like shocked – Jessy quickly crouches down and picks the book up. It doesn't seem to be anything special, though. A plain brown cover and kept together by a bunch of red strings on the side. The pages are white, so it must not be that old of a thing. Which is surprising, considering that all the others she has seen thus far are like that. Though, the minute she brings it closer there is that bitter smell of an old piece of a book like any other one around her.
Looking up at the Rukh confusedly, Jessy gets no answers from the birds. They have returned back to their roles and are now simply twittering around the place. And finally, they almost completely fade somewhere, leaving barely a few to linger in front of Jessy.
She frowns and looks back down at the book and its first page. Coincidence? The text has been written down with a rather small font, so she has to actually squint her eyes. The words are barely evident to her, though. And put it plainly, this book is no better than the one she was trying to read it before. If the Rukh really wanted to help her pick a book, she would have expected a better one. At this rate, even a book meant for one-year-olds could do.
Though, the first few lines have some familiar words. Let's see, Jessy traces her finger over them.
"Long ago… the world was in," she mumbles under her breath.
However, she doesn't get to continue, when the door is slammed wide open and she nearly drops the book, heart pounding from shock. Whirling around, Jessy sees Yunan standing there with wide blue eyes. With his mouth half-open and hands clutching the sides of the door, the magi looks unstable and a bit taken aback. Although, the latter reaction is what the brunette is wearing on her face.
The magi's shoulders are rising up and down heavily – further clearing the obvious distress on his demeanor. His distressed gaze softens, though, when he notices Jessy simply standing extremely still, like a frozen rock. She can only imagine how startled she looks in this situation, but her mouth has formed into a thin line and she stares at the magi with a dumbfounded expression. He wouldn't just barge in here like that without a reason and seeing in this state… it makes her feel slightly worried.
Neither of the two speak, until the blond-man lets out a somewhat of an uncomfortable laugh and rubs the back of his head. "S-sorry. Did I scare you?"
She clutches the book closer, staring back at him just as widely. Without any sign of her heartbeat slowing down, she has truly no idea how to react to his unexpected appearance and now to his usual attitude.
"Are you alright? Did something happen?" Is finally what she ends up with and relaxes a bit.
He steps into the room calmly – there is a shift in the atmosphere – and smiles at her. There is a moment lasting pause, but then he says: "Yes. I thought I heard a thud and feared that you might have fallen or worse. Are you alright?"
"…Yes," she says in return and lifts up the book for him to see. "This only fell."
"I see. That is good – oh! Have you finished your tea, already?" He suddenly asks, eyes staring at the still steaming cup left on the table. "Do you perhaps wish to eat some snacks as well?"
Jessy actually ponders this for a second, her mind being out of nowhere being led by her stomach. She nods. "Yes, thank you."
Then, she watches in awe as food starts appearing from thin air. Small cookies, grapes and more tea in a teapot float above the ground and her head out of thin white smokescreen that fades as soon as it appears. The objects continue floating and then land softly on the table where Yunan is already seated and waiting for her with a smile, like the confusing moment a few minutes ago hadn't even happened. He beckons her to join him as soon as their eyes lock.
The book is still held firmly across her chest. It is rather thin compared to the others she has been holding, but it also weighs a lot less than those others. So, it slides back into the shelf easily, when she places it there and walks to the table.
However, there is one thing bothering her mind. And it doesn't leave from the taste of sweets. Jessy keeps on looking up at Yunan as she sips her tea but does not open her mouth. He has an excellent hearing, so why did he mistake a book falling to a person being in trouble?
He is hesitant – it's deadly silent on the other side of the door. A few minutes ago, he could still hear movements in his house, but now there is nothing but silence. Though, there is still a sound of soft heartbeat reaching his ears along with equally soft and slow breathing. She's asleep.
Without making a sound with his leather boots, the golden-haired man reaches out to the handle and creaks the door open carefully. The room is pitch black, but with the Rukh and the light shining from behind him, Yunan is able to distinguish the furniture and the bed on the other side of the room. A sleeping figure – Jessy – is continuing her dreaming without any indication that someone has entered.
He makes his way to her, the Rukh swirling around him and lighting his way as he does. He does not go all the way, though, and stops just a few feet away. The light of the golden birds isn't too great, but it certainly would be bright enough to wake the sleeping woman, if he were to come too close.
Briefly, his blue eyes scan over Jessy's half-covered face and the way she is sleeping with her hands hugging the pillow. She looks comfortable if you don't look at the way her eyes are moving rapidly behind the eyelids and the way her facial muscles seem a bit tense that is. A low groan escapes from her, which makes Yunan tense with anticipation that she might start waking up, but when she merely rolls to her back, he lets out a quiet sigh.
The rapid movement behind eyelids hasn't ceased and Yunan walks closer until his hand is floating above her face. He might do this quick or she might wake from the sound the Rukh is making.
A light glow from his palm illuminates the darkroom just as softly as the golden birds. It shines few seconds and then fades – the spell has been cast. And when Yunan retreats his hand, he can see how Jessy's features have relaxed significantly.
A small smile comes to his lips from seeing her soundly sleeping face. Whatever nightmare it was, it is now gone.
I am sorry.
He takes a book out of his robes and places it on a small stand next to the bed. Right near it, the sleeping woman's lays limply on the mattress, not even twitching. Naturally, his eyes trail with it back to her face – the pillow is also laying limply, but on her chest like an armor. He knows that she would look weaker and more defenseless without it, even if that sound a bit like exasperating.
You must be suffering.
The golden birds fly past her face, small pecks of light increasing Jessy's features. They are soft, but the magi remembers them to be even softer from the first day. She has lost a bit weight and he sees it as a constant reminder of her situation every day – barely eating, sometimes staring off into space and falling silent.
He wonders, if she is still grasping the gravity of the circumstances, she is in. When visiting the Torran tribe, the whole thing was intended to make her feel better.
It has ended up with her resisting the idea of going out.
The smile is gone from Yunan's face and he can only stare a few more seconds, before walking out of the room just as quietly as he had come.
There hasn't been any rain for weeks, but that doesn't bother the citizen of Reim that much. In fact, even now, they are laughing and chattering throughout the whole city. The streets are filled with people selling their goods from fabrics to food. Some, though, are drinking somewhere merrily and raising their mugs high in the air. Children are running and laughing together with adults. Nothing seems to be amiss. The white buildings reflect the shell of this bright kingdom, showing no such thing as impurity whatsoever. And all are being watched by a single figure standing near the edge of the balcony, alone, long hair shining against the light of the sun.
Scheherazade's blue eyes are half-open, not showing anything on her blank face. Yet, there seems to be a spark of some sort in her orbs as she keeps gazing down at her people, her home, her kingdom that she spent building over the years. It has indeed flourished well. The smells, noises, and the very air can tell her that much.
However, her gaze shifts from the city below to the side. She isn't exactly looking over her shoulder, but she doesn't have to. She can already guess who is approaching her from the sound of metal and footsteps. No matter how much practice, nobody can walk too quietly without the golden armor from giving them away.
Not bothered by this at all, the priestess of the Reim looks back forward and over the walls of the city. She is trying to focus on something, trying to see something behind the landscape of her kingdom. Though, it proves to be impossible, so she focuses her clear gaze on the golden birds. They are fluttering around her, nothing unusual. But…
"Lady Scheherazade."
She finally acknowledges the new presence by turning her head. "Muu, you have returned."
The warrior in gold and red kneels with his fist against his chest. "I have nothing to report, my lady. The borders are without a doubt guarded and secure, like always."
"…That is good," she lets out a very faint sigh. "What of the city's security?"
"They have also been thoroughly checked, but nothing important has risen to be a concern. Rest assured, my lady," he finishes the report and stands up, red eyes looking at the back of the golden head. "Has something made you uneasy for these kinds of orders becoming necessary?"
She closes her large eyes for a while, listening to the sounds and feeling the dry wind against her cheek. The Rukh chirps, drawing her eyes open and directing their line of sight towards the borders. Like always, she doesn't show much on her expression, but in the end, lowers her eyes. Honestly, she is a bit loss what to say, not that she would ever want to admit that.
Should she tell her worries to one of her most loyal subordinates, or let her thoughts mull together in her head in silence? No matter what she would choose out of the two of these options, the outcome wouldn't change. She herself isn't even sure what it is that has caused this kind of uneasiness in her.
"Something has changed."
"Pardon?" Muu asks, confusion clear on his tone.
Scheherazade closes her eyes patiently and turns around. Her long dress and hair wraps around her like a cloth before settling back down and following her movements. She moves past the taller man and away from the balcony's end. Her golden staff clacks against the shiny tiles on the ground.
Muu stares after her for a few seconds, before straightening up and following dutifully. She would explain later and that she does as soon as the two of them are inside.
The small woman in a child-like body stays tightlipped, though. She barely makes any sound, except with her golden staff that she keeps on clicking against the stone ground. It seems to be the only sound echoing across the hallway – there are barely any others in the wing they are walking through. That should make her easier to talk off whatever is weighing her mind, but it the silence seems to only make her sink deeper into her own mind. Her hold on the staff only increases from them.
"I have… felt something," she starts softly. "Yesterday evening, I felt a disturbance."
She can imagine the warrior behind her raising up his guard and narrowing his eyes. "Is it a bad omen?"
She shakes her head, blue eyes clouded by thoughts only she knows of. "I am not entirely sure. The shift gave no sign of good or evil intent."
Muu's facial muscles twitch. The small change is barely noticeable, but his eyes harden. "Should we tighten our security?"
The two pass a hallway where the servants make a way for them. They all back away to the sides, head lowered in respect. Scheherazade and Muu do not acknowledge this act, for it is part of the usual. Instead, they walk further into the building where prying ears and eyes can be kept at a distance. The small woman – or a child in physical form – keeps her gaze forward and does not look away. Unconsciously, her small, somewhat fragile hand tightens around the staff and her face hardens a tad bit…
But then, her features smoothen, and she shakes her head.
Muu blinks, his face also softening from the act. He stares at her, but she does not look back at him. There is a silent message between them, one that indicates they will speak later.
The leader of the Fanalis' corps drops the subject and continues walking in a comfortable silence. Though, he is not sure, whether this phenomenon the ladyship has felt is a danger and something he should shield her from. Nor is he sure, if his eyes have turned into cold and hard stone while he has been too deep in thoughts. The question will keep him bothered for a while, at least.
Extravagant silks, golden hair ornaments with colorful stones, perfumes and ointments from different parts of the continent, fresh fruits in bowls and flowers in decorated vases, patterned seats and frames of the doors – this is a list of things that could describe the room. Little light has barely been able to get in, though. So, the flowers have mostly withered away, and their dry and brownish petals have been left on the table or on the ground. The room's heavy and dry air must be the result of the sweet stench that has covered it for days. It is no wonder that the flowers aren't blooming. One would think that the one who received them as gifts would also want to take care of them.
The room has been awfully silent for a while and barely any sound comes from the outside garden. Though bird chirps once, but then flies over the walls and silence falls down into the area again. It is like the very nature is avoiding entering the grounds. And there are also no people moving along the porch and the hallways. The silence becomes almost crushing after it has been continuing more than a little while – which is ten minutes.
Suddenly, pale blue eyes crack open and a woman sits upon a bed. Her hair is tousled and quite unkept, to be honest. Still, the flaws of her dark locks fade, when you look at her fair and cream white face. It doesn't belong to a young person, but it certainly doesn't indicate her being old. She has aged enough to still look as she does if that is how you could properly describe it.
Her eyes slide down to her side to see a form laying there in a deep sleep. Her expression doesn't change, but her eyes do darken, and she turns her head away from the man. He isn't that much older than her but does look like it. Maybe it has to do with her make-up and lotions she uses on a daily basis.
Keeping silent, the woman stands up from the bed and grabs her robes. They are smooth and smell like overly sweet flowers. The smell of the room has obviously been absorbed by the fabric. She doesn't mind, though. She has already become more than used to this stench. Also, she is getting a bit cold with nothing to wear.
Even with garments and layers covering her now, the woman glides her way across the large room and past all the obstacles easily. Not a hint of clumsiness is present on her graceful posture nor does she make almost any sounds while walking. And when she opens a door – letting the fresher air in – the woman is careful not to be loud. Though, it is doubtable that the man in the bed would wake up from closing the door after her.
This night certainly had been… different, if you could call it that. She doesn't quite remember when was the last time she didn't mind that man's presence in bed. Well, the room is his, after all. So, she should be saying that she didn't mind being in his room.
After all, the dark-haired woman is in a good mood this morning.
All of sudden, a man wearing a white fabric over his face appears from behind a corner. She isn't surprised, she had already sensed his presence.
He puts his hands together in front of himself in respect and lowers his head. "Lady Gyokuen."
She doesn't say anything but smiles mutely.
"Unfortunately, we have not been able to find it."
That sours her mood a bit, and she looks towards the garden with a thoughtful expression. "Really? I am certain that I felt it, though."
The masked figure lowers his head further. "I sincerely apologize."
"Of course, you do," she muses and then faces the man again. The long sleeves of her robe slide down her arm when she reaches out towards a small bird held in a golden cage. It is small and brown and twittering without a care in the world. "In any case, how are the plans coming along?"
"Very well. We have not been faced with any sort of difficulties. Not to mention," the humble tone takes a turn to something more sinister, "another dark spot has been progressing quite well."
The bird is now in Gyokuen's hand, its small muscles and limbs wriggling insignificantly in her hold. She can barely feel any form of a struggle coming from it – poor thing. A small smile on her face seems to widen a bit from the corners. She hums and then starts stroking the small head with her index finger. "But… I was really looking forward to finding it."
The man's head twists up a bit and though it is not visible, he is looking up at the woman who suddenly turns her back to him by walking further into the room.
"Do you have any idea what it could do?" She asks, voice hushed. Where her feet are taking her, there is the darkest part of this space. The little bird in her grip hasn't stopped singing, but it is clear that it is screaming for help, now. The small sound seems to make her chuckle and soon she has covered its head with her other hand. A sharp end of a peak is poking her skin under it. "Imagine what we could achieve."
Her voice takes a high-pitched turn, bathing in what sounds like a trance. The hands covering the struggling bird tighten and she brings her closed hands closer almost in a pray-like manner. Her eyes shine in the dark, glimmering with unknown emotion as her hands tremble from the pressure she puts on them.
"We must hurry," she whispers.
The dark-haired woman is not sure whether she can feel a small heartbeat of the bird anymore.
"Hm?" Wide blue eyes look up towards the sky in a questionable manner. They blink a few times in a dream-like haze and then settle on staring at a random drifting cloud. Aladdin has woken up from his nap, but it still feels as if he is dreaming.
Slowly, the small boy sits up and stares forward at the road. He has been sleeping on a wagon and now he can see a town further away. He rubs his eyes tiredly but winces from feeling his slightly reddish skin. It's morning already?
The horse pulling the wagons puffs out some air and shakes it's made. The carriage sways on a bumpy road, the load of hay stacked on it nearly falling down to the ground. The little boy sways with it, completely at ease. His long blue braid is swinging along with the golden flute hanging from his neck and he grabs the said object with his hand, clutching it near to his chest.
"Hey, boy," the one driving the wagon – an elderly man with a bushy beard – calls out and gains Aladdin's attention, "is everything alright? You look a bit pale."
He blinks and then points at the town. "How long do we have to go to get there, mister?"
The old man chuckles. "Only a few minutes, young man. Are you in a hurry?"
"No," the blue-haired boy answer and grips the flute even tighter. He looks down at it and strokes the carved star symbol on its smooth surface. "I guess I feel… restless?"
"First time traveling alone? Poor thing. I can't imagine what it would be like for a child like yourself," the owner of the carriage sighs sadly, making it sound as if he was sorry for it.
However, contrary to how he is expecting the child to react, Aladdin smiles and lets out a chuckle. His small hand loosens its grip on the flute and he lays back down. I am not alone. The sun's glaring light does nothing to make the smile drop and it only widens from feeling the heat on his skin. Without even looking, he knows that the symbol on the instrument is glowing.
"Mister, you are really nice," he says softly and closes his eyes. The magi does not feel sleepy anymore, but he is thinking deeply. The muscles on the corner of his eyes wrinkle, when he hears the loud twittering of the strange golden creatures. He doesn't know or really understands what they are, nor what they want and if they can understand him, but he kind of likes the sound they are making. It only adds to the mystery and enchantment of this journey of his.
Aladdin touches his chest, feeling how his own heartbeat drums against his ribcage softly. I wonder… he opens his eyes, the clear blue sky's color mixing together with his darker orbs, what was that feeling I got yesterday?
The wagon shakes on a rather bumpy road all of sudden, snapping the boy out of his musing. A laugh bubbles out of his chest, as he holds onto the railing and watches few strands of golden hay fall down to the ground below. They create a path and from afar he can see how those small bundles look like a swarm of golden birds.
Oh well. It was probably nothing.
His smile widens into a grin full of teeth.
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