“Is he really Lord Zemi?” It was the first time SoYa found the courage to speak to AsaHi.
“I think so,” her voice was weak, eyes fixed on the bridge beneath their feet. Her delicate hands wrapped around the white gossamer ropes that connected the structure from one islet to another.
He was scared. So scared. Scared and overwhelmed. Scared to look at her. Scared to talk to her. Scared that she might see him for what he was. Scared that he might hurt her like he had hurt the others.
Though his face reflected with cold distance, his heart was aching. He wanted to hold her… he wanted to feel her arms around him… he wanted to tell her how glad he was that she was okay. He wanted to tell her how much he had missed her. And he wanted to tell her about all the things that had happened.
But the fear was too great.
“I thought you didn’t believe that Lord Zemi existed?” he asked.
“I was wrong.”
SoYa peered up quickly, blinking in disbelief. Those three words were rarely, if ever, heard coming from AsaHi’s mouth. The girl was the most stubborn, rock-solid soul that he knew. She seemed less likely to buckle to pressure than the foundations of the earth.
His mouth opened slightly, green eyes focusing on the girl’s back. For the first time he realized that something about her had changed.
His footsteps sounded hollow as they left the final plank of the bridge. The grass under his feet was enticingly green, even in the shadows of the early night. Islets floated off on the distant twilight haze. Winged people were heading home along the expanses of shimmering bridges, fading in and out of the sifting clouds. But he did not see any of it.
Lord Zemi is here? How is that possible?
His mind simply churned on.
And how does AsaHi know him? I don’t understand any of this!
AsaHi’s eyes were upon him. There was a strange, knowing look behind her gaze. A look that had never been there before.
What a terrible… terrible mess…
His stomach churned in response. Fear. Fear that she would see. That she would know.
“SoYa,” her voice was soft and quiet. There was emotion there. Uncertainty. Yet, hope. Always hope.
His eyes met hers. Their gazes held. Silence choked him and blanketed his mind. There was so much that he wanted to say. But he couldn’t make a single sound.
“Don’t be afraid. This place is safe,” she told him.
The shadows of birds broke into a swooping scatter across the faint line of moon above. The breeze rippled through the dangling tree limbs and streamed gently through AsaHi’s hair. The scent of warm flowers dappled the evening air, a scatter of petals fluttering through the wind. Misty clouds drifted across the grass leaving sparkling trails of dew in their wake. Not far away, a cheerful waterfall babbled, reflecting crystalline moonlight.
Off over the hills, nestled safely within the valley, were a number of tiny white structures. SoYa guessed they were some sort of shelter, even though they looked nothing like the houses that he knew back home. Somewhere in the night, was the sound of children laughing — a laughter more clear than he had ever heard.
SoYa had never seen a place of such magnificence before. Everything seemed more rich, more mystical, yet more real than he had ever felt. Still, despite the beauty that dawned all around him, confusion bubbled in his heart.
“Where are we?” he finally asked. Anything to keep a conversation going.
“It’s called Ceiswyr. I don’t know a whole lot about it, but it’s the place where the winged people live,” she answered.
“Winged people?” SoYa’s voice dropped in tone. “Like Aunt SaRa?”
AsaHi fell silent. Her face seemed uneasy.
“I didn’t know she was…” he attempted.
“Neither did I,” the girl offered.
Silence resumed.
SoYa began to grapple to keep the words flowing between them, “How long have you been here?”
She blinked up into the sky, her face calculating, “I’m not really sure. Time passes sort of weird up here. I think it has to do with the way the sun looks when it gets below the clouds.”
“I’m… glad you’re safe…” his voice cracked slightly as he forced the words out.
AsaHi peered at him, face softening, “You are?”
“Of course. I… couldn’t stop worrying about you,” he nodded quickly.
“SoYa,” her lips parted with the sound of his name.
Encouraged, he pressed on, “I really missed you.”
“I missed you too,” AsaHi answered. He couldn’t tell if it was from conversational habit or if she really meant it.
“It will be okay, right?” his voice quavered as he tried to hide his own need to seek comfort from her. Somehow it felt as if AsaHi was handling everything so much better than he was.
She nodded, “Lord Zemi and Zento will make everything better, I’m certain of it. So don’t worry… just follow me and we’ll get you a room.”
A million questions bubbled up in his mind, but AsaHi was already walking away over the flower-dotted hill. He watched her make her way through the knee-high grasses. The moonlight shifted through the trees, reflecting off her hair in a soft white glow.
Somehow, he couldn’t help but feel that she looked completed here, as if the mystical realm in the clouds had perfectly embraced the magic-less girl. In such a short time, it had taken her in as one of its own and she no longer belonged with the people who lived on the ground. As AsaHi vanished over the hill, the last solid foundation of his past broke away. He was left floundering in the symphony of lost shadow and sound.
