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Mission No. 38

Cerinia
Altaira Valley

"The Garden of Tears"

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That afternoon, the Cerinians brought Fox and Krystal before the council of elders over which Namah presided. For a time they convened, ironing out the details of their guests' stay. It took some convincing on Namah's part, but the rest of the elders agreed to let Fox and Krystal stay in the village.

Krystal was to share a house with Māra and several other orphaned girls her age. Perhaps they could acclimate her to Cerinian customs, Fox thought. After all, he knew she was a fast learner. But he was required to board with the only other man in the valley, who lived in a private cottage a ways away from the rest of the village. The message was clear; only one of them was welcome.

Evening was coming on, but the darkening sky wasn't the only thing that beckoned Fox to bed. He'd barely had any sleep the past three days; he was so tired that, as a pair of Kaitaki escorted him, he stumbled along the village path and ignored the old-fashioned, mysterious buildings around him.

The path led out of the village and through a small forest. After crossing a wooden bridge over a stream, they came out on the other side of the trees. Before them lay plains of rolling hills which bunched up against the mountains encircling the valley. Upon one of the nearest sat an elegant but small cottage constructed from the same mahogany wood, upwards-curved roofs, and reed walls as the rest of the village. The guards dropped Fox off at the door and explained the situation to the elderly Cerinian that lived there, who seemed quite surprised at his arrival. They bade him farewell and left him alone with Fox, though he suspected they might stay nearby to keep an eye on him.

Neither Fox nor the man could understand each other given the language barrier, but he observed that Fox could barely keep his eyes open. He led him to a side room and rolled out a spare futon for him to sleep on. It wasn't the feather bed Fox craved, but anything was better than being tied to a stone for three days.

Fox bid the old man goodnight and passed out on the mat, even though the sun had only recently gone down behind the mountains. And, for the first time in three nights, he slept peacefully on his own.

Bright and early the next morning, Fox was awakened by a delicious scent tickling his nostrils. His nose sniffed hungrily, and his eyes popped open. The elder's guest room greeted him, illuminated by the glowing rays of the early morning sun. It wasn't originally outfitted to be a bedroom from the looks of it, but seemed to be a storage room in some capacity.

Fox sat up and yawned, stretching his arms gratefully. The covers fell away from his bare chest, and he noticed the pink robe Krystal gave him in a pile on the floor nearby. The elders had neglected to give him proper clothes yesterday, and Fox had to walk around the village and the Hall of the Matron's the entire time in a prissy pink robe. Hopefully they would stop by with his confiscated flight suit and jacket soon…

At that moment the reed door to his room slid open, revealing the old man. Over his washed-out coat of sky-blue fur, he wore a set of simple brown robes that looked rougher and dirtier than the rest of the Cerinians' silken ones. His eyebrows, upper lip, and chin fur were all long and faded to gray, giving the appearance of bushy brows and facial hair. His form was rather stooped, and his hands were folded together inside his drooping sleeves. He looked around seventy, but a sparkle in his eye told Fox he wasn't one to be trifled with just yet.

Slightly embarrassed, Fox leaned out of bed and snatched his pink robe, but he paused before he'd gotten it halfway on. A quiet fizzing sound emanated from the man's whiskers, and the wrinkles on his face arranged themselves in a jolly fashion.

"Tatari," he instructed Fox, then left the room. When he returned he held a set of white linen clothes and undergarments. He bent over and handed them to Fox, who gratefully accepted them.

'You can't go around the valley dressed in nothing but a woman's robe, now can you? Pink doesn't really suit a man.'

Fox's eyes lit up in surprise. He concentrated and felt the older Cerinian's mind overlapping his own. 'You're telepathic, too?!'

'Aye, foreigner. Most Cerinians have the Curse in one form or another, and to different extents. For instance, the Kaitaki have the power to control things with their minds. Myself and the rest of the village? We can only communicate and share feelings. But you, my young friend, seem exceptionally receptive.'

'You've met other Lylatians?'

'Afraid not; I have only heard tell of them. But come, you must dress.'

Fox stood and slipped on the linen undergarments—but he had trouble understanding the rest of the clothes. He held up an article that looked like it was meant to go around his legs. 'Is this a skirt?'

The elder straightened up and looked at him indignantly. 'Of course not! It is a shendyt. I wouldn't let you be caught dead in a skirt! Know the difference!'

Fox wrapped the linen kilt around his legs as best he could. 'Sorry, I'm just not used to wearing something like this. Where I come from, we only wear pants. Most of the girls stopped wearing skirts, too.'

'Really? What a pity—but these are dark times.'

The elder handed him a light tunic, which Fox slipped over his head. 'This set of clothes was mine; it's for work, though I don't have much use for it any longer.'

When Fox was done dressing, the man bowed. 'Well, now that we can speak as two equal, clothed men, what is your name, young one?'

"Fox," he said aloud, returning the gesture. "Fox McCloud."

The elder looked him up and down. 'An apt name.'

'It's just a nickname. I was named after my father, but I prefer to go by Fox.'

'Well, Fox, I hope I once looked half as good as you do wearing these now. My name is Itoro. I told it to you last night, but you seemed to lose it amidst all the rest of the Cerinian I uttered.'

Fox laughed. 'In the state I was in last night, I probably would have fumbled my own name too, no matter how simple.' But at that moment the wall of scent renewed its assault on his nose, and his stomach gurgled. 'Hey, is that breakfast I smell?'

'Indeed it is, and it's just about ready. Why don't we talk more over a hot meal?'

Itoro seated Fox at a low-resting table in the largest room of his house, which adjoined the kitchen and living area. He served him a plate of freshly cooked food still sizzling from an iron skillet over the stove. The fried meal was made from plantain-like fruit and sweet-potato-looking roots, and Itoro also presented him a bowl of ripe fruit he recognized from the time Krystal snuck him some. Needless to say, it was delicious.

"Thanks Itoro, this hits the spot!" Fox said through a mouthful of food.

'I guess that means you like it? Mind you, from now on you'll have to help me cook if you want to eat. Today was an exception; I just wanted to let you sleep in.'

Remembering his manners, Fox spoke with his thoughts instead. 'I really appreciate it. But how long was I asleep for? I feel like I slept through an entire day.'

'Close to it, but I knew you needed the rest. I hear they were keeping you captive?'

'Yeah, they kept me tied up on a rock out by the water. Wouldn't let anyone see me, wouldn't let me eat or drink, and it was nearly impossible to sleep. Plus I held in my shit for three days.'

Itoro chuckled knowingly. 'Bless my soul!'

'Did you have to go through the same trial when you first came here?'

The Cerinian nodded. 'It's a necessary evil, and I don't blame the elders… much. Before I found these sisters, I traveled the wastelands with other survivors. Even the smallest disagreement could lead to enemies tearing each other's necks out without having to lift a finger. For a society to survive on this planet, they must be careful about who they admit.'

'But… why aren't there any men here? Besides us?'

Itoro sighed and looked out the window, absently clutching his water mug. 'When the Curse first spread, powers beyond belief were dumped in the laps of many Cerinians. We didn't know how to use them, nor how to trust someone else who likewise possessed an invisible weapon that could kill at any moment. Cities were leveled; sides were chosen; friendships crumbled. For whatever reason, the Curse manifested itself more commonly and strongly in the males of our species—perhaps due to our natural differences. We were likelier to develop more dangerous powers than telepathy. Many couldn't handle the changes their brains underwent, nor the yoke of such powers, and went insane. Men and women alike destroyed without rhyme or reason. Others perished bravely in wars and small skirmishes amongst the ashes, protecting those they loved. Many of the women here are the widows, sisters, and daughters of those that died.

'I know a few who, in order to protect one another, became hermits, finding homes in the wastelands or wilderness; no group larger than three or four could flourish without infighting. You must understand, young Fox, a village of this size is unprecedented in a time like this. The abbess's scrutiny of outsiders and strict discipline of the Curse is what keeps this village together. Otherwise, no one in Altaira would feel safe around each other.'

'But your species can't survive like this! I mean, the women here have to meet with the men sometime, right?'

'Well, yes, on rare occasions. But the men live elsewhere. Romance often leads to negative emotions like jealousy and frustration, activating the Curse. That is why Namah insists on keeping us separate. The Curse is a terrible power to live with, you see. Even those that can only read minds are driven to hate and murder when they know what others truly think of them—and that's true of both the sexes. It's taxing when not even your most private of thoughts are solely your own.'

He was right, Fox thought. It was hard to get used to Krystal's mind-reading habits when they first met.

'Well Fox, it's only us now,' Itoro concluded, 'so the responsibility falls to the two of us men to protect and guide this helpless village of hens!'

Fox laughed and leaned back on his pillow seat. 'Damn straight it does.' The old man continued to fizz at his own joke.

A knock sounded at the door, and Fox straightened up in his seat. Itoro cleared his throat and said, "Tomo."

The door opened to admit Mother Namah and two members of the Kaitaki, who wore their signature gray cloaks and facial masks. Now that they were back within the village, they let the masks simply hang around their necks, exposing their stern faces.

The elder Cerinian stood and bowed. Fox rose from his seat as well, but didn't bother bowing. Namah and Itoro seemed to greet each other in Cerinian, then conversed shortly while glancing at Fox. The Lylatian merely rolled his eyes and waited impatiently for the results.

When they were finished, Itoro patted Fox on the shoulder. 'The Abbess wishes to speak with you now. She plans to show you some of the village, but I told her she better have you back by afternoon; there's work to be done around here.'

'And I'm sure you phrased it just as strongly,' Fox teased him. Itoro fizzed his laugh and set about gathering their plates. They said goodbye in their respective languages, and Fox followed Namah outside.

The abbess led Fox through the village, while the two warriors trailed behind them. They seemed uneasy that a Lylatian was allowed so close to their "mother," even when she was the most powerful denizen of the valley, and he was perhaps the least.

Fox wasn't aware of it, but his reaction to seeing Altaira Village was much like Krystal's own. The difference was that Fox had an actual reference point from which to judge the town; he knew how old-fashioned—medieval, even—the village appeared, and how odd it was to find such an enclave after seeing the ruins of the modern city mere days before. It was evident Cerinia was an advanced civilization at one point, perhaps even equal to Corneria—but after the Cerinian holocaust, the citizens of Altaira had returned to a simpler way of life.

Fox made note of the Cerinians' communal way of living. They were quick to help one another, eager to share, and willing to give away freely—provided, of course, their sisters did their part. There were farmers with open storehouses of fruits, vegetables, grains, and fish; there were smithies and stone masons and carpenters that fashioned tools or constructed new houses; and there were weavers who sewed garments with lovely, eye-catching patterns.

Fox stuck out like a sore thumb among the Cerinians. Hundreds of pairs of eyes stared at him curiously, as if he were some sideshow freak. Their pelts were cool hues of blue, purple, and green, while his was a warm gold by contrast. Likewise, besides a few children, he was the only male among the villagers. Normally he would love having so much attention from so many beautiful women, but being this outnumbered was nerve-wracking.

Now he knew how Krystal must have felt, he realized with some sympathy.

Mother Namah was mostly silent, but she observed Fox's reaction to everything. Once they climbed up the hillside to the House of the Matrons, Fox was particularly intrigued by the humming stacks of copper disks piled atop one another till they were as tall as trees. He pointed to the towers. "What are those? Are they just for decoration?"

Namah glanced at the structures. "They generate electricity. Ever since the Anomie, when our species awakened and society collapsed in the chaos, a spiritual life force has flowed across Cerinia's surface."

"Sort of like ley-lines from folklore?"

Namah studied his mind closer to see what he meant. "Perhaps. Only, instead of straight lines, the currents reach out like the roots of a tree—or blood vessels. One such 'ley-line,' as you call them, runs through Altaira Valley—and a powerful one at that. We have a… primitive form of technology that harnesses it. The copper disks react to the psychic energy by vibrating against one another. Their resonance creates an electric charge. We use underground copper wires to transport the current to various establishments around the village, but the program is still in its infancy. Amazing how little one realizes they know about engineering without the aid of the world-web or textbooks."

"I guess it would be hard to rebuild a society from scratch, but that's still impressive."

"There is still much work to be done, but come."

Namah led Fox inside the Matron's Hall, where he once again saw the elders seated in council. Today they were meeting with different women from around the village, conversing in Cerinian and probably advising them on different matters. It was quite loud in the hall from all the competing voices, so Namah guided Fox through a side door and a myriad of passages within the building. Eventually they came to a private room that jutted off from the rest of the hall like a peninsula. It was octagonal-shaped, with the walls made from folding reed partitions that opened to reveal a surrounding garden. Namah paused and gestured for Fox to enter, but she stopped the Kaitaki at the door.

Fox heard one of the Cerinians voice her concern, but the elder shook her head and spoke in a calming tone. They bowed to one another, and the warriors reluctantly left.

Fox looked around the room, admiring how luxuriant it was in contrast to Itoro's. The ground was carpeted and littered with large pillows; valuable-looking trinkets and relics of the past age lined the shelves; and brilliantly-dyed robes with exquisite patterns hung in the cabinets.

In the center of the room sat a raised bed with a canopy draped over top. Fox immediately eyed it with envy; he missed his feather bed after having to leave the Great Fox. Of course Namah saved all the good stuff for herself…

The abbess sat on a throw pillow beside her bed and patted a similar cushion in front of her. "Please, sit."

Fox hesitated, glancing suspiciously between the vixen and the bed.

When Namah noticed, she rolled her eyes. "Please, I am not trying to seduce you. Contrary to your misplaced hopes, we are not a village of pent-up women waiting to bed the first man we meet, or you would have been torn apart in the streets on the way here. I assure you, we all have very different needs."

"And those needs would be…?"

"What we discussed earlier: the trade of information."

"Oh, well, if that's all…"

Fox obliged and plopped down on the pillow in front of her. Namah opened her mouth to ask a question, but before she could, Fox blurted out, "Are we safe here?"

Namah's thought caught halfway up her throat, and she paused for a second. "Safe? Do you mean from the rest of the village? Someone you are afraid of overhearing? The lawless Cerinians scourging the wastelands? Safe from the very Curse itself, or…?"

"From the Cornerians," Fox explained. "I'm afraid they're after me and Krystal. I hope I didn't end up leading them here."

"If you had, they would have attacked the village by now. It's been over three days since we found you."

"You mean, since Krystal and I found you," he pressed.

Her eyes merely twinkled in response.

"Then, is there a chance they might still track us? Like over the desert?"

"Sandstorms obliterate the footprints of travelers overnight. You would also have erased your scents in the river. Even if they had a method of tracking your particular thought waves, Cerinia is a big planet, and the valley is well-hidden."

"Then how did Krystal find you if it's so difficult?" Fox asked. "When we first landed at the ruined city, she led us straight to you."

"We simply lured you here. Kaitaki scouts patrol the wastelands around the valley. They warn us if marauders or Lylatians approach, and lead them away if deemed harmful. But if a harmless wanderer happens to pass by, we lead them here. When they sensed your arrival in the ruined city, they took you for a Lylatian capturing one of our sisters—or using her to sniff us out. They made the decision to try to rescue her from you. So they led you two to the river bank and I helped overpower you. Needless to say, we were wrong in our assessment. It is a rare occurrence to find a Lylatian who cares so much for a Cerinian, and rarer still to find one daring enough to take her back home."

"Then we only found you because you wanted us to?"

"Precisely. Our village must remain safe both from Lylatians wishing to kidnap our sisters, and from our own kind who cultivate and use their powers solely for destruction. But come, it is time to answer some questions for me. I saw much of your past through your memories, and want to know more. Please, tell me about Dr. Andross: the experiments that made him exiled, the civil war, and your discovery of Krystal."

Fox exhaled. "Well, it's a long story, but I'll do my best." He paused for a moment, gathering his thoughts. "I was only eleven when Andross was exiled. He tried to build a satellite with my mother's help, but something went haywire due to his recklessness, and the thing melted down. Thousands of lives were lost in the aftermath, and my mom… well, she was one of them. If you think your people were the only ones that suffered his evil, you're wrong. I loved my mom more than anyone else in the world, and having her taken from me… it hurt."

The abbess nodded slowly, understanding.

"But I wasn't alone. Everyone wanted Andross to pay for his sins. It wasn't fair that he survived his own mistake while my mom—and everyone else there—didn't. So we made an example of him. We exiled him to Venom—a toxic planet that would've killed him in a few hours if things went as planned. But we should've known he'd have something up his sleeve. I don't know how, but he survived. And for the next five years, he raised an empire of pirates, smugglers, and disgraced scientists like himself.

"Well, eventually Corneria took notice of a stirring on Venom. My father was sent to investigate, though I think he begged General Pepper to let him go. He wanted revenge. But nothing could prepare him for what lay in wait. He… never came back. Then, when war broke out two years later, I was fueled by the same desire for revenge that drove my father. We pushed Andross's forces back, but he left scorched ground in his wake. He polluted entire planets, enslaved populations, and mutated wildlife. If you were to see the state Lylat is in now, you'd pity us, too."

Fox caught himself. "I'm sorry, I don't mean to downplay what happened to you or your planet. I just want you to know that Andross was no friend of ours, either. He hurt us just as bad."

All through Fox's summary, Namah's face darkened into a somber expression. Her gaze was fixed far away, somewhere past Fox, as she brooded. When his pause dragged on, she looked up suddenly. "Sorry, I lost myself for a moment. Please, continue. How did you find Krystal?"

"Well, this all happened recently. I found out after the war that Andross had been experimenting with people from another planet: Cerinia, which no one else in Lylat was supposed to know about. Well, my mother did. And my father. And Corneria, for that matter. I wanted to know how she was involved, so I traveled to Andross's labs and happened to stumble upon Krystal. I saved her from dying after… after another Cerinian unleashed her powers and began killing everyone she came across."

Namah nodded. "They desired us for our powers, but they could not control us. Nor could we always control ourselves."

"After that, I managed to escape with Krystal here. I'm sorry if that was too vague a summary, but I only found out what was going on behind the scenes a week ago. I was just a mercenary. I wasn't supposed to know anything; just follow orders, and my father kept everything hidden from me for my own protection, I guess." Fox looked down and laughed sheepishly. "You know, my godfather warned me not to poke my nose where it doesn't belong, but I didn't listen. Now look where it's landed me."

The Cerinian matron locked eyes with Fox. "And do you regret the things that happened? Do you regret running away with Krystal and betraying your people?"

Fox knit his brow, hesitating for a moment. He retraced all the hardships, close calls, and veritable nightmares he'd experienced since Venom. But eventually he settled on the image of Krystal playing in the ocean, for the first time seeing her in the sunlight under a clear, blue sky.

"No," he stated, clenching his fists. "I think I'd do it all again."

Namah stood, which surprised Fox. She fixed him with a pitying gaze. "Fox, your mother didn't perish with the satellite's destruction."

The todd's eyes widened. "What do you mean?"

"For your own sake, do not raise your hopes. I do not intend to disappoint you, but there is something you must know. Come…"

Namah brought Fox behind the Matron's hall where a path led into a wooded grove. Underneath the canopy of trees and lush plants was a garden. Stone squares covered the ground, creating different paths that led around the forest as well as open patios. Natural springs shot up like fountains between the tiles, then ran in rivulets between the stones and bushes down the hillside. Some of the most beautiful and largest flowers Fox had ever seen bloomed between the paths, which several Cerinian children tended to. They milled about with hedge clippers, gardening tools, and strange powders. When they saw Namah approaching with Fox, they whispered in hushed voices to one another and scampered out of sight.

"What is this place?" Fox asked. He leaned his head back, taking in just how high some of the flowering plants towered.

The matron brushed leaves from a flat stone, in which writing was engraved that Fox didn't recognize.

"Māra o Roimata: the Garden of Tears. Our burial site for the dead."

Fox began to notice the rest of the burial markers: stacks of flat, rounded stones. "It's so beautiful…" Rather than death, he felt a strong energy permeating the vibrant garden, as if barely contained by the stone tombs. "And it feels so… alive."

Namah let the leaves fall back over the epitaph. "And hopefully, one day all of Cerinia will as well."

She led him deeper into the garden. At the far back of the graveyard, they came up to a steep, moss-covered cliff. A strange, round-shaped stone lay against the side, almost as if blocking the entrance to a tomb—but in front of it stood a lifelike, stone statue. It was hunched over slightly, hugging itself; the smooth gray folds of a robe draped over its frame. From afar, it looked feminine.

Namah halted at the entrance to the terrace, but Fox didn't notice; he'd realized the statue depicted a vixen. He walked right up to it and examined the face without Namah. It was familiar: more than familiar.

"Who is this?" he asked, even though the answer seemed just within reach.

"Your mother," Namah answered quietly, "Vixy."

Fox's blood ran cold when he finally recognized his mother's face; frozen in stone. His world began to reel about him, and he grabbed onto the statue's shoulders for support.

"My mom… she really came here after the satellite exploded?"

"As I said, she did not perish in Lylat. When he knew the rest of Lylat would come for him, Andross sent her here. He loved your mother, you know. Vixy… understood him, in ways no one else could… but she did not love him in the same way he loved her."

Finger trembling, Fox brushed the hardened fur of the statue's cheek tenderly. "Why? Why did he bring her here?"

Namah looked down. "When Corneria discovered Cerinia, Vixy was among the first to work here with Andross. Together they headed the biological research program meant to study my people, but Andross was the one responsible for accelerating our evolution and causing the apocalypse."

"And my mom?"

"Around the time of the Anomie, your mother and all the other scientists were whisked away. Then, after his next project likewise resulted in catastrophe, Andross ferried Vixy back here. He had been… experimenting on her. She developed powers like the rest of us, though that is an understatement."

"What do you mean?"

"She became much stronger than anyone I had ever seen before. Even though she had a kind heart and a gentle soul, she couldn't control her powers. The demons buried deep within her threatened to destroy the village. In her last act of mercy, she stopped that from happening. She… turned herself to stone, Fox."

His paw froze on the statue's face—his actual mother's face.

Fox's head hung low, and his shoulders slouched. He'd finally found his mother's true resting place: the reason he'd started this whole reckless adventure to begin with. The truth was set in stone; she was dead, and there was nothing for him here anymore—only an alien race of people who didn't trust him.

"You are free to leave the valley if you wish," Namah said. "I discussed it further with the elders, and they agreed it was best. You don't belong here, Fox—but Krystal does. We will take good care of her here. Altaira will make a wonderful home, and with my help, we will undo the terrible things done to her, treating her as we have successfully treated so many other young vixens with the Curse."

Fox didn't answer—but he was starting to accept the truth of her words.

"…If you choose to leave, a warrior will meet you outside the pass, blindfold you, and lead you far from the secret entrance. I'll have your clothes and other belongings returned as well."

He swallowed, reeling slightly. "Please, I'd… like to be alone first."

Namah bowed her head. "I'm sorry," was all she could say. Then he heard her quiet footsteps and the swish of her robe and tail fading away.

Once she was gone, Fox tried to relax his breathing. Slowly in, slowly out. His shoulders began to shake with each breath. His fingers grasped at the stone remains of his mother, clenching around the folds in her robe, gripping her own hands—but the warmth he remembered in them was gone. She was cold now, and could return nothing.

In the depths of his heart, he had always held onto the chance that she might still be alive. He had never seen her body—there hadn't been a body. A thousand funerals held in the wake of Bolse Y's meltdown, yet all were for empty caskets.

There was something hopeful about having a mysterious nebula for your mother's gravestone. As a child, he always felt she could still be out there in the depths of space, and once he learned how to fly, he would find her.

And now he had.

The weight inside him became too much, and he dropped to his knees. He embraced the stone vixen and leaned his head against its legs. A rock as solid as the grave markers around him formed in his throat, and tears began to well in his eyes. He could barely choke the words out.

"Please, Mom. I hope you can hear me. I wish you were here with me now. I'm… sorry I wasn't there for you.

"I don't know what to do anymore. Nothing is simple like it used to be.

"No one's telling me what to do, or who to fight. I don't know who's right and good.

"I'm so confused. I'm so alone.

"I have nothing left; I gave it all up.

"You were the only thing I came here for, and now you're gone.

"You and Dad were the only ones I ever loved."

His fingers clenched around her frozen robes.

"Please just… give me something. Anything to make me keep fighting. I'm… praying to you, help me…"

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When Krystal saw him there, she gasped and hid behind the trunk of a leafy plant. Carefully, she spread the leathery bows apart and peered between them to watch.

Across the stone floor she saw Fox kneeling, tightly embracing a woman's statue. She felt wrong for being there at all, resigning not to disturb him; but a strong aura of sadness seeped from him, and she needed to know why.

As she watched, his bowed shoulders began to tremble; his face hidden to her. But soon her ears pricked when she heard his soft sniffs and weeping. She'd never witnessed his spirit so broken before, nor a display of such weakness in him. She wanted to know; she wanted to understand what brought him so much grief and so much pain, never having seen Fox cry like this before. Why wouldn't he confide in her? Why wouldn't he let her see his tears when she couldn't help but show him hers every time before?

Krystal wanted to do what Fox had done for her that night; to wrap him in her arms and tell him it would be okay, no matter what the problem was. The urge was so strong she nearly rose from her hiding place and rushed over to him, but… she couldn't move. For some reason, she felt rooted to the ground, frozen by a powerful weight as if her legs were made from stone.

For now, all she could do was watch as his wet tears dripped freely to the ground, where they slipped between the cracks to join rivulets of spring water washed away in the Garden of Tears.