Kayle knew she was hopeless, and that they were hopeless. Jasmine's lack of response simply hammered the final nail to the coffin.
Talking about it would not simply remove the deeds she had done like tidal waves washing sandy footprints away... Although the confession did make her feel less guilty, her shoulders felt less weighted, her back less tense.
Taking in a deep breath, the Judicator stood up and took her leave, but was once again halted by the stubborn summoner.
"Kayle, I wanna he-"
"Jasmine, I really have to go." the angel cut in hastily, but her mind was adamant, "The sun has already risen and duties await us. I am grateful for what you have done for me, but enough of your time has been wasted, so farewell."
Before Jasmine could say another word, Kayle exited the girl's dwellings.
It was midday, the busiest hour of the day in the Institute. It was also the hour when Morgana chose to rest alone in her apartment. She was still drained from the numerous accidents a few days back, and today's work could wait. If not, she would personally make them wait. No one can keep a girl from her beauty sleep.
Stripping her leather dress off, she took a traditional sleeping robe form her closet and put it on. Her eyes glanced over to her bed. Somehow, the bed seemed extra soft today, beckoning her to join it in a relaxing slumber.
When the angel was just about to lie on her bed, her pointy ears caught a few soft, but immensely irritating knocks. The timing was utterly impeccable.
A surge of frustration washed over Morgana as she let out a groan in annoyance and pulled her weary self towards the dark wooden door. Today the distance between the bed and the door felt exceptionally long, and that did nothing to help improving the angel's already-gloomy mood.
Whoever that is out there better have a good reason to bother me. I swear if the they are fans or the likes of that , I'm gonna-
Storming up to her door, she yanked it wide open, and snapped at her visitor with her eyes closed, putting up the most annoyed face she could muster.
"What?" Morgana snarled.
When the response did not come, she looked down. A short, dark haired girl in her summoner's robes stood there, eyes wide with astonishment.
Yup, another fan girl.
Morgana was about to unleash some of her magic to intimidate the girl, to teach her who she could not afford to mess with. The Fallen knew one must set a mark, or else one would get looked down upon, exploited, bullied, like how the bullies ganged up against young Morgana back then. The angel could not do anything about it, because she did not have a voice, but she had now.
Although I didn't have to, because Kayle was - Stop it.
The angel barely noticed the summoner shook her head briefly and looked straight into her eyes, albeit timidly. "Hi,"
It had been two days since Kayle left Jasmine's room, and she could not focus on anything but what the Judicator had told her. She skipped class - intentionally and not, tripping over stairs, spilling her favorite tea all over the place... She was also in a fifteen defeat streak. More than frustrated, the summoner felt helpless not being able to help Kayle, and particularly when the Judicator ignored her.
So she decided to approach things with a different angle: Morgana.
It was always risky, trying new things out, more so when things involved someone's deep, personal past, and even more so when the person in question was the Fallen Angel. Morgana was not someone to play around with, one wrong word and who knew what would happen.
She had to give it a try anyway.
It took Jasmine quite a while to finally get to Morgana. She first checked the current matches and fortunately found the fallen angel participating in none of them. She then headed straight to Sinful Succulence, only to find a closed bakery. Not giving up, she asked around for the exact location of Morgana's apartment.
Her good-natured knocks was responded with a loud crash as the angel inside the apartment slammed the door wide open.
"What?"
The Fallen towered over the summoner, her stance betrayed the fatigue she was struggling to fight against. Draped in a yellow-brown gown that the young girl guessed was from the angelic homeland, the angel seemed to be unable to see her... Until she looked down.
"Hi," Jasmine greeted as polite and confident as possible when their eyes made contact, "My name is Jasmine. I'm here on Kayle's beha-"
She was cut off by a single dry, sarcastic laugh.
"Kayle? Tell her to mind her own damn business," Morgana snapped.
Jasmine saw a slight change in the Fallen angel's piercing gaze however. Aside from the extreme annoyance that could be found all over her face, the summoner saw a tiny, but definitely existent spark flashing across her ominous magenta eyes.
Curiosity?
"Why would she even bother sending someone over anyway?"
Bingo!
"Well," the summoner began, her brain running a million miles each second, trying to come up with something plausible, convincing, "I-I don't exactly know why she sent me, but I think she wants to talk... C-causally. Nothing serious. Personally, I-I guess she uh... is thinking of you? Maybe? Because I mean, this is totally a private request from Kayle, ya know, me coming over to talk to you..."
An awkward silence loomed over them. The hallway Jasmine stood suddenly seemed to become devoid of all sound. The unreadable look on Morgana's face made her feel more insecure than ever.
Shit. That was a complete disaster.
After who-knew-how-long of a standstill later, Morgana, to Jasmine's mild surprise, spoke up first.
"I... will consider it... Now leave me be, summoner, I have some sleeping to catch up with. And as for you," the Fallen slowly spoke, the skepticism not lost in her tone, "you have to report to Kayle, I suppose."
Trying to get back to her senses as quickly as possible, she nodded franticly and muttered an apology and ran away in embarrassment. For goodness' sake, that was bad. I need a Plan B. And think Jasmine, think before you attempt anything stupid again.
Morgana had not heard a single word from that feisty summoner until a whole two weeks later - the day before Snowdown.
She did not bother finding Kayle. Why would she when what the girl said was nothing but an obvious, blatant lie? The intentions, however, was what intrigued her. Why would she lure me into talking to Kayle, of all people? It is clear that she knew nothing of summoner's plans, which makes even less sense... The Fallen stopped herself before she went too far: it was not something worth getting a headache for.
Plus it was Snowdown Eve tonight.
Speaking of Snowdown Eve...
When Morgana had finally left her bed for a late brunch, she found a neatly folded letter inside her apartment, an inch away from the door that lead to the hallway. Intrigued, her cautious fingers picked up the small piece of jasmine scented paper and unfolded it.
Dear Morgana,
Hi. I wanted to apologize for what happened two weeks ago. That was really stupid of me, trying to prank on you and wasted so much of your time. So to formally apologize and to show my gratitude towards you for not killing me on the spot, I have booked a table at The Grand for two. My treat. The table number is 5 and it would be nice if you can be here at around 7:30 (I know Table 5 is nothing compared to the Table 1 you are probably used to dine at, but please, I really, really tried).
Happy Snowdown Eve.
Jasmine
P.S. please wear something nice, like a dress or something. I mean, there are no exact dress codes or regulations to follow, but it is THE Grand after all.
Indeed, The Grand was a high class, more-than-fancy restaurant located in the very heart of Valoran. Not too far out from the Institute of War, there was a towering hotel, and the very top of the building was where The Grand served the best food in all of the continent. It was one of those restaurants that gets fully booked for festivals like Snowdown Eve two months ahead of time; a single meal would cost maybe up to a month's salary, or maybe two. How Jasmine came up with that money was completely beyond Morgana, and how she had gotten themselves a Table 5 within two weeks' time even more so.
It was six thirty in the evening: enough time for a quick bath, a swift inner debate on which nice dress to wear and then walk to the restaurant. The debate was, as Morgana predicted, short-lived. Opposed to the merry and festive red and green trend, the Fallen opted for a black dress with a sweetheart neck-line over the other ones in her vast collection of garments. Long and lithe, this strapless dress hugged her body closely, unlike the skirts she wore causally or in the bakery.
Beyond the confines of the apartment, the night sky was snowing gently. The slowly falling snowflakes were dyed with a brilliant orange-gold by the warm streetlights as they gradually reached the cobblestone streets. Never finding cold a comfortable sensation, Morgana wore a furry cloak to cover her exposed torso and wings before she left her home.
The walk to the hotel was slow, probably due to the cold weather, but it did not stop the angel from reaching the restaurant on time.
Upon entering The Grand, Morgana took off her cloak as she approached the receptionist. "Table Five, under the name Jasmine at half past seven please."
"Ah, yes, yes. A table for two. Your friend has arrived not too long ago. This way, if you please."
The Fallen had half-expected this dinner to be yet another prank of Jasmine's when she first received her letter, and not until just now did her lingering doubts had finally faded away, replaced by a small, growing sense of respect as the staff lead her towards the reserved table.
Table Five was not shabby at all, unlike how the girl described in the letter. Right beside the table was a glass wall, and beyond it was the full view of the night sky and the west side of the city. The blinking red and green decorative lights echoed the mild glow of streetlights, making the streets below appear to be warm and joyous, despite the accumulating snow.
Something felt off, however. Something did not fit the whole picture.
Driven by the odd sensation, she gazed at the source of discomfort: person sitting at the table. Instead of jet black hair, the woman sat before her was blonde. Instead of a short stature, she had a rather tall and slender physique. Instead of dark eyes that were filled with wit, hers were cyan, and behind them Morgana could see bewilderment. She, too, was overwhelmed by the same feelings as she stood there, unmoving.
Kayle.
/Hi, I'm back. Sort of.
It has almost been a year since I last posted and all. For those who have been patiently waiting and those who have read Wings of Freedom, I thank you, because I would have probably given up on a writer like myself.
I also want to apologize for the very cliche plan of Jasmine's. It was totally her idea... I hope it is not TOO bad.
On a side note, I'm... Single once again after being dumped by the girl I've dated for almost three years, so I think I'll have a bit more time and a lot more emotions to fuel my story. That being said, this is also my last year in school, which means public exams and stuff like that. Aaaaand also Dragon Age Inquisition. So, we shall see.
Once again, I thank each and every single one of you for bearing with me.
Merry belated Christmas.