Legend of the Jumi Part II, Chapter 2
Snow
By The Mana Priestess
The passing of autumn, the advent of winter, always raised conflicting emotions in Florina. She loved autumn, with its rich tapestry of orange and vermilion and old gold, its slow, flaring sunsets, and the mournful beauty of a world silently sinking into deep sleep. But the black winters, morbid, still and serene, made her feel melancholy. It was getting harder to bear the cold weather as the years passed and her body weakened, its frailty rendering it susceptible, sensitive to the altering temperatures; and somehow this made Florina sense her approaching death more acutely. She always felt certain that if she dies sometimes within the next few years, it would be on a winter night— passing away quietly, cool and feverless on the white sheets of her bed, her strength spent.
Florina shook her head as if to chase the morbid thoughts away. Winter isn’t all death and desolation, she reflected, and attempted to rally her spirits by the cool, bright vision of the chaste blue skies shining outside her bedroom window. Saristin, she recalled, was born in the winter; and he was like the best embodiment of the season, pale and serene and steady-hearted. And winter is beautiful, too, she thought; nothing is lovelier than the cold purity of the falling snows.
The thought of snow made Florina glance at her companion, the young man who was its namesake. He was presently bent forward over the mahogany table, inscribing runes upon a freshly-pressed scroll with careful precision. He had been working silently for the past hour, his sharp features and lean body poised in complete concentration upon his task; but as Florina looked towards him now she noticed that he had paused, perhaps for some time without her noticing, his grey eyes fixed on her steadily, watchfully.
“Is something the matter, Snow?” she asked, smiling at the boy.
He immediately averted his face, and his hand, that had slowed at its task, continued to trace the runes with renewed pace. “No, ma’am,” he replied evenly, though his color heightened a little, staining the too-white face. “It’s just that I thought that—“
For a moment he was silent, and Florina did not press him to speak, though she was curious as to what he would say. Snow had been aiding her to trace runes for some weeks now, and he proved to be a careful and apt scholar, surprisingly patient when it came to the small details; and Florina found his help invaluable. He always treated her with strident respect, and was habitually loath to speak to her about anything but the research work. She knew that he was more voluble with Emeralda and Sapphire, and wished to draw him out beyond the carefully respectful answers of “Yes, ma’am,” and “no, ma’am”, which, she knew, was contrary to his usual manner.
She therefore paused in her work and regarded Snow inquiringly. “What is it?” she asked.
For a moment he did not reply. His face was turned down, his eyes intent on his scroll; but then he said slowly, “It’s just that, I thought that— I saw you shuddering. Just a little.“
“Oh, just a momentary reflexive reaction at a thought,” she answered. “It was nothing.”
Snow was silent again, and for a few long minutes he said nothing further. Florina returned to her work, thinking that that conversation was at end; but then Snow added:
“You always try to put the best face on things, Lady Florina, even though you are often ill.”
She raised her eyes at this sudden comment, that was uttered quite artlessly and a little vehemently, and barely refrained from smiling. She rather suspected that she was finally seeing the Snow that everyone else knew, and was glad that he overcame his mask of reserved shyness to utter something more spontaneous. “Oh, I try!” she replied. “It would be dreadful to always mope about my condition, and people would probably find me insufferable if I do, which would be quite appalling, since I have to deal with them every day whether I wish to or not.”
“Yes,” said Snow, in a lower voice. “You are always obliged to do things that you don’t like, and yet—“
Florina watched him, wondering what he would say next. He was still bent low over his work, but he had paused, his mouth sloping downward, frowning to himself. Then he said in his sudden, decisive way:
“Emeralda was right.”
Florina raised an eyebrow. “About what?” she asked.
Snow looked towards her. There was a dark look in his eyes, a morbid concentration on an apparently unpleasant thought. “When we first met, Emeralda said that I was selfish, and prone to excessive self-pity. I got extremely angry at her for that criticism; but ever since I met you, I realized that she was right.”
He now met Florina’s eyes with a direct gaze. “Ever since I begun to work with you, Lady Florina, and I saw how you bear exactly the same situation that I do, burdened by an excessive, continual illness without self-pity, and without imposing your troubles upon others, I realized how insufferable I had always been. And I respected and admired you for being different from me. And,” he added, speaking quickly, with a sudden burst of emotions, “it made me realize that I need to change. I need to behave a little more like you, Lady Florina.”
He uttered this speech with such a heroic air of admission that Florina tried not to betray her amusement, suspecting that it would deeply humiliate him; but she could not help but be touched with liking for his frank, straightforward manner.
“Don’t be hard on yourself,” she replied gravely. “People who know you really well, like Emeralda, are fond of you all the same.” She could not but help adding, her eyes twinkling, “Also, a lifetime’s habit is hard to break. Give yourself time.”
He understood that she was laughing at him and reddened slightly, but accepted this calmly enough. “To be sure,” he answered. But then a reluctant smile edged his mouth. “I promise, Lady Florina, that I shall try my best,” he said seriously.
At the moment the door opened and Alex burst into the room. Florina could not but reflect of how different Alex was from Snow; except their devastating frankness, these two had nothing in common. There was nothing winterlike about Alex, thought Florina. Spring-born, Alex was imbued with a bright, forceful energy, a restless aura, a heartless vivacity that either charmed people or disgruntled them, their dislike often magnified by that very dynamic impetus that disturbed them, since it made Alex’s presence so hard to ignore. But Florina, who knew Alex better than anyone in the Jumi city, forgave these faults in Alex as she forgave everyone else for their use of her. She knew that Alex cared about her more than anyone else in the city, and she was grateful for that caring, as misplaced as she perceived it to be. For, she reflected, that very sense of caring had made Alex’s heart even more unrelenting— willing to wound everyone else for my sake, even Elazul.
Snow, whom Alex always made vaguely uncomfortable with that mocking, sharp tongue, immediately excused himself, with a lack of grace that showed Florina that his new resolution to change his behavior will require a long uphill climb. She was amused at the thought, and as soon as the door closed behind the young man she scolded Alex for his taunting manner around Snow.
Alex settled himself in Snow’s vacated chair. “It’s not my fault that this ill-favored, scrawny boy is your new admirer,” he answered, green eyes brimming with mischief. “Though I would not have thought that you had it in you, Florina, to steal him from Emeralda, after he had been stalking her for weeks with a lovestruck expression on his face.”
“Be quiet, you wretched child,” Florina commanded. “Snow deserves a better treatment from you. I, for one, am glad that he wished to help me with the inscription of runes. I pity him for always having been so closed-up, and I am excessively glad that he found a kindred spirit in Emeralda. He is certainly improving in manner and—“ here she glanced at Alex with a glimmer of amused reproof, “he’s not that bad-looking. He has nice eyes.”
“Unfortunately, I am not a great believer in kindred spirits,” Alex retorted carelessly. “And it irks me to think of that mere child Emeralda getting a lover before I do. But—“ and here Alex seemed struck by a thought— “perhaps I should try and steal him from both of you? For I confess that his infatuation with Emeralda makes me feel slightly ill, especially since she is completely oblivious to it.” He crossed his arms behind his head and, winking at Florina, added, “Got to maintain that reputation of mine, you know.”
Florina moved her eyes back towards her scrolls and resumed her task of rune-translation. “I see,” she replied, determined not to display her amusement at this depraved little speech, so typical of Alex.
“Don’t you wish to ask me about my reputation, Florina?” Alex inquired, deceptively innocuous.
“I was about to inform you that I wish to avoid finding out about it at all possible cost.”
Alex raised an eyebrow. “Then you don’t wish to know how I acquired my reputation?”
“Not at all,” answered Florina patiently.
“Too bad. It’s an interesting story.”
“I’m sure of it.”
Alex heaved a resigned sigh. “Corrupting you is so difficult, Florina.”
“There is no need to,” Florina replied serenely, as she dipped the feathered pen in fresh ink. “After all, my dear, aren’t we kindred spirits?”
Alex’s eyes opened wide. “For shame, Florina! I wouldn’t insult you with such a supposition for the world.”
Florina looked up, her eyes beginning to dance. "I have only this to say, Alex. If you’re indeed feeling competitive for a lover, then I know of the PERFECT lady for you.”
Alex’s eyes narrowed suspiciously. “I’m afraid that my last statement is about to be proven wrong,” he said tragically.
Florina gave a tiny laugh. “A wonderful lady, Alex.” Her expression turned abstract as she gazed out of the window into the cold blue firmament. “Very handsome… and quite tall.”
Alex straightened in his chair slightly, uncrossing his arms and placing them on the table. "Florina,” he said, very evenly.
"She has such eyes, too," continued Florina dreamingly. "I envy her! Compared to my nondescript grey…"
"Florina," said Alex again, leaning forwards, a warning green glint entering his eyes.
"And she has such a fine figure, too," finished Florina with a rapt sigh.
"FLORINA!"
Florina suddenly looked at Alex with a distraught expression, leaning across the table and lacing her fingers together pleadingly. “Oh, Alex! Forget about her! Take ME instead!”
Suddenly Alex burst into a pealing laugh. “You are depraved, shameless woman, Florina,” he informed her after he raised his head again and brushed his hair out of his eyes.
A wicked smile laced Florina’s mouth. “I told you that we are kindred spirits,” she answered placidly.
Emeralda, Snow and Sapphire had agreed to meet in the maze garden one cold morning in the middle of December. Snow, arriving early, seated himself on a bench and waited for the girls to arrive.
Snow’s mood was not particularly good, for he had been feeling unwell for the last three days, suffering from a slight fever and the usual succession of nightmares that accompany illnesses that include a high body temperature; and he had to disguise his sickness the best that he could in order to get his parents to agree to let him out for these few hours. He huddled inside his heavy coat to protect his thin body from the severe chill, and his grey eyes, that gazed absently into the white morning, betrayed his illness by their unusual brightness.
He was seated alone for a while, feeling very cold and, though he tried to ignore it, just a little delirious, when a figure stepped in front of the bench and a voice addressed him: “Hello, Snow.”
Snow looked up and beheld Sapphire’s cousin, the aquamarine Jumi, standing just opposite. She was wearing a sea-blue jacket with burnished golden buttons, that partially concealed a cream-colored sweater and a coral-hued skirt. Her pale azure hair was gathered in a long braid laced with a crimson ribbon, and her bright eyes brimmed with mischief.
Snow did not like the aquamarine Jumi, and he was not at all impressed by the charming little vision she presented. “What do you want, Marina?” he asked, averting his eyes and fixing them on the white distance with a marked show of indifference.
“Waiting for someone?” Marine inquired.
“Isn’t it obvious?” Snow asked ironically, still gazing ahead. “I’m out here to enjoy the cold weather.”
Marina bestowed a sweet smile on him, unfazed by the clearly unfriendly welcome. She noticed Snow’s ill appearance and said, immediately grasping at her chance, “Come, Snow, let’s go to the palace. It’s much too cold out here for you.”
Snow looked up again and fixed her with a steady stare. He was beginning to have a notion of what she was about, but he was far from pleased at the realization. “No thank you,” he answered shortly.
“Why?” she asked.
Snow maintained his even gaze on her. Despite his recent resolution, the increasingly severe chill and his intensifying fever put him in an ill-humor, and besides, he had always disliked the aquamarine Jumi. “Don’t you have something else to do, Marina?” he asked curtly.
She put her arms behind her back with a girlish gesture, smiling at him angelically. “No.” Tilting her head slightly to the side, she inquired with feigned innocence, “You’re not afraid of what Emeralda will say by any chance, right, Snow?”
But Snow wasn’t disconcerted, and he felt himself dangerously near to losing his temper. “You’re being a pest, Marina,” he said crossly. “Get lost.”
He rather wished that this would offend her enough to rid him of her company; but Marina pressed her hand to her mouth to conceal one of her small titters. When she moved it away she bestowed another of her bright smiles on Snow. “So you CAN be masterful!”
Snow felt that she was mocking him, and his pale face flushed with chagrin. He was beginning to sense that Marina, in her own way, was quite as tenacious as himself, and not quite as silly as she appeared, and he was baffled by the realization that he was not going to get rid of her using mere impoliteness. He remained stubbornly silent and Marina, perceiving his disconcerted air, immediately took an advantage of the gap and was about to take a step towards Snow when Sapphire showed up.
She gazed at Snow and Marina for a moment without saying anything; but Snow greeted her with an air of obvious relief, inviting her to sit at his side. Sapphire was surprised, but immediately complied. Marina’s little voice spoke at their side with a taunting tone. “Oh! What shall I tell Emeralda, then?”
Snow was incensed now, and he turned towards Marina abruptly. “Don’t be stupid,” he flashed at her. “Emeralda is coming soon.”
Marina giggled. “Oh, I see. I don’t think you would mind having a third, would you, Snow?”
He flushed vividly, for a moment at a loss to answer. Sapphire, for her part, remained silent; she was used to Marina’s ways and apparently didn’t particularly care to intervene in the exchange. Snow, perceiving that he would receive no support from her quarter, rose from his seat. “Sapphire,” he said, attempting to conceal his aggravation to prevent Marina from thinking she won the exchange, “I think I’ll go to the palace for a while. Please tell Emeralda that—“ But before he could complete his sentence he suddenly paused and raised his hand to his head. “Oh—” he said in a strangled voice, and collapsed back onto the bench.
Sapphire, a little alarmed, fixed her eyes on Snow with an apprehensive expression, and Marina raised an eyebrow inquiringly. He was leaning forward with his hands on his knees, staring ahead. “I don’t feel… very good,“ he said in a faint voice. “It’s my…“
But suddenly his hand shot to his neck. “I can’t breath!” he gasped.
Sapphire started in fright and grew very pale. Marina, however, immediately sized up the situation. “Don’t just sit there, Sapphire!” she ordered. “Use your healing tears on him. I’m going to get help.” And upon this injunction she immediately ran off in the direction of the palace.
Snow’s head was hung low, and he was breathing harshly, with obvious effort. Sapphire leant towards him. “Snow,” she faltered, “I’m— I’m going to—“
“Come closer!“ Snow ordered her tersely. “Give me… your arm… before I…”
She obeyed him, edging in his direction. His fingers grabbed at her arm and he supported himself against her unsteadily. He passed his hand over his face, and felt it cutting through cold sweat. At his side, Sapphire was trembling; sensing it, Snow glanced up at her. “Don’t… be scared,” he said, speaking with an effort, and attempting to appear calm. “I’m a little better… now. I’m always sick. Just do… what Marina… told you.”
Sapphire’s great eyes gazed at him in a melancholy way, but she said nothing. She raised her hand to her cheek and closed her eyes, and after a moment a shining tear fell from her lashes to her finger. The drop remained suspended on her fingertip like a tiny, shining jewel, which she cupped in Snow’s palm.
He immediately applied it to his core and felt his breathing growing easier. After a few moments, during which he struggled to collect his strength, he finally felt well enough to straighten himself. He immediately looked towards Sapphire, attempting a smile.
“See?” he said. “I’m all right now, Sapphire.”
“Good,” she answered, avoiding his gaze. Snow maintained his eyes upon her inquiringly, a slight frown creasing his brow. He was a selfish person by habit, not given much to care about the concerns of others; but he had sensed her strange distress and wished to understand it.
“What is it?” he asked. “I hope you’re not unwell because of the tear, Sapphire.”
She shook her head. “I’m all right. I’m glad that it helped.”
The tone with which she uttered this statement was reserved, and curiously flat. Sensing this, Snow said, “You sound like you don’t believe it.”
“I—“ Sapphire’s pale face flushed and she looked disconcerted and unhappy. But then she lowered her head and said quietly, “Snow, my tears, they are not— not that— effective.“
His brows drew together as he gazed at her searchingly. “They helped me very well,” he answered shortly. “Why would you say that?”
“Because…” Sapphire looked down at her fingers, that she spread and moved slightly, with a nervous gesture. “It’s— a secret, Snow, but I think that you would understand, because—“
He said nothing, and she continued, “Because of your own core. My core, it’s… flawed. From birth.”
Snow straightened suddenly, but he made no answer for a moment, and after a short silence his only comment was, “I see.”
“It was a great disappointed,” faltered poor Sapphire, her face flushing in shame. “Black Pearl said so. My mother’s core was perfect, but mine…”
Snow passed his hand over his face, but he cut her off before she could continue. “Stop apologizing, Sapphire. I know exactly what you went through. And anyway,” he added with his habitual air of defiance, “I think it doesn’t matter one bit. Your tear worked just fine for me, as you can see.”
“I think that you should still see Lady Florina,” said Sapphire; but her voice trailed into a soft murmur, as if she was afraid to be rebuked by Snow for this suggestion. But he was staring absently ahead again without hearing her, seeming to mull over a thought moodily. Suddenly he said:
“It’s strange, Sapphire, but not only are all those illnesses prevalent in this city, we are both born with flawed cores around the same time, and there’s almost no new healers. I wish I just could get out of this city. I don’t have a lot of happy memories from it anyway,” he added, rather bitterly.
“I don’t either,” said Sapphire in a whisper. “I wish to get out as well. Especially before they…”
Snow, immediately detecting another forthcoming disclosure, looked towards her alertly. “What?" he asked. "What will they do?”
Sapphire’s nature was naturally reserved; but she seemed to conclude that no harm would come of telling Snow everything. “They’ll pair me up with Elazul. The council had decided it, but I—” under Snow’s searching gaze she flushed and stammered, “I don’t wish to.”
Snow, who immediately decided that he never liked Elazul anyway, said resolutely, “But they can’t make you, Sapphire, if you don’t wish to. Can they?”
“I don’t know,” she answered, very quietly. “I’m afraid that they may try.”
Snow’s feeling so revolted from the concept of being forced to do what you have no wish to do, that he said in a burst of vehemence, “Well, they can’t make you! Anyway, what did Elazul say?”
“Elazul was very nice about it,” answered Sapphire, her rare smile appearing. “He said that he would not let them force me into this. But I’m still afraid.”
“I don’t think even Elazul could withstand the council,” Snow agreed; and as he knew nothing of Elazul’s own reluctance as to the suggested pairing, his dislike of Elazul intensified at this disgusting display of noble-mindedness on his part.
“Emeralda wishes to go to the university someday,” said Sapphire in a whisper. “And I know that you will come with her. And I… I wish to go with both of you. Please, please take me with you.”
“Of course we will,” Snow answered promptly. “No question about it. I hope this makes you feel easier, Sapphire.”
She nodded, not looking up. “I shall be so happy to escape,” she said quietly. “Only I was afraid to go alone. But with you and Emeralda, I feel that I may be able to.”
Snow, satisfied at the conclusion of this conversation, rose to his feet. “We shall meet later,” he said. “It’s just too cold over here; tell Emeralda that I shall be waiting for her inside the palace. But as for you flawed core, Sapphire, I don’t think that you will have to worry about it. It’s probably not as bad as you think.”
She made no answer to this, and Snow begun to walk down the path; but he barely took a few steps when he suddenly paused, his face growing livid.
“Oh, damn,” he said; and crumpled to the ground in a dead faint.
When Emeralda arrived to the palace she had the news from Marina. Marina mentioned the presence of Sapphire as well, “But when I came back to check on Snow she was sitting there dumbly, completely useless!” she said tartly, with a good deal of disgust. “I never understood that nervous manner of hers.”
“Stop being such an insensitive brute, Marina,” Emeralda replied, quite pointedly and with a little heat. “You know that she had watched her mother die because of core-problems. You should try and be more understanding.”
Marina snorted, but made no reply, and Emeralda left the garden. She was not particularly worried, even though she knew that Snow had fainted. Snow was occasionally attacked by one of his illnesses, and at least once or twice a week, when his health was particularly poor, he was obliged to stay at home; and she reasoned that his stubbornness caused him to over-strain himself in this case.
On such occasions Emeralda usually visited Snow’s house to exchange a few words and agree on the next meeting; and if Snow’s illness wasn’t too serious, she would sometimes stay for a little while for a chat. This always seemed to improve his temper and enabled him to bear his illness with a better spirit, and Emeralda was therefore welcomed in the house, in which she rapidly became a favorite.
She therefore made her way to Snow’s house and knocked on the door, waiting politely to be answered. A young low-class Jumi that Emeralda knew well answered the door; she was a servant of the house, a petite, pretty girl with dark brown hair, not much older than Emeralda herself, dressed in the lace cap, brown dress and white apron that indicated her menial status. Emeralda requested that she inform Snow of her arrival but the servant seemed frightened, and stammered: “Oh, Miss, I don’t know if I could let you enter.”
“I heard about Snow’s fainting,” answered Emeralda calmly. “I hope he’s better now.”
The girl shook her head. “He’s awfully ill, Miss,” she said in a low voice, glancing over her shoulder apprehensively as if she was afraid that the conversation by the door would anger her employers. “He’s very feverish and the mistress says that it doesn’t look like one of his usual illnesses.”
Emeralda said nothing at this. She was slightly puzzled now and, though not admitting it, just a little worried. The girl leant forward disclosed with an agitated whisper: “They think it’s the Core Waning, Miss.”
Emeralda, who had listened to the girl’s nervous tirade serenely enough until now, was suddenly alert. “Core Waning?”
The girl nodded, her maple-hued eyes wide. “They sent for the Clarius,” she whispered confidentially, “but the request wad denied! The Knight of Clarius forbade the Lady Florina to leave her bed for at least the next two days, no matter what the need for her might be, for she has been healing a lot of people these last three days and was feeling very poorly herself.”
Emeralda’s eyes flashed at this disclosure. “I see,” she said tersely, reflecting that this must be— undoubtedly IS— Alex’s fault. Only Alex could be so beastly selfish as to prevent Florina from healing people in dire need, she thought angrily. To the girl she said, “Please let me see Snow now.”
The girl, who had always been in some awe of Emeralda, finally complied. Snow’s mother welcomed Emeralda, and agreed to let her see Snow. Emeralda entered the spacious white house, whose luxurious furnishing indicated that it belonged to affluent Jumi; but the house was very quiet and melancholy, and, had Emeralda possessed an easily impressionable nature, she would have found it rather depressing. She made her way straight towards Snow’s room.
He turned his head towards her and a weak smile lit his features for a moment at her presence. “I’m so glad that you came,” he said in a low voice. “I’ve made a mess of it this time, didn’t I?”
Emeralda was shocked to see that his face was ashen and his eyes were burning feverishly. He was lying inside the big bed, sunk beneath the heavy covers until his thin body seemed almost lost in them.
“It’s nothing,” she answered, trying to sound casual. “I’m sure you’ll feel better tomorrow.”
“You don’t have to pretend, Emeralda,” Snow said, in a flat voice. “I know it’s the Core Waning.”
She didn’t know what to reply, and Snow averted his face. “Funny,” he commented, very quietly, all trace of bitterness strangely erased from his voice. “All this time I was expecting to die of something else.”
“Stop!” Emeralda burst out suddenly, with more emotion that she intended to display. She had never seen anyone die, even in this city where the illnesses purged the population; she was too young, and belonged to the highest set of nobility, where most of the healing energy was carefully and liberally expended. The thought that someone she knew was going to die suddenly frightened her, and shook her out of her usual calm; and the fact that it was Snow, a young person, and a close friend, made her feel unhappy and insecure. “You’re not going to die, Snow,” she said, vehemently. "The Clarius will heal you.”
“The Clarius can’t come,” answered Snow.
Emeralda rose to her feet. “We shall see about that,” she said, decisive now. “I promise you, Snow, that Florina shall be here to heal you by tomorrow.” And she left the house and made her way to the palace, not doubting for a moment that she will be able to persuade Florina to come.
Emeralda knew her way through the palace very well, and she was readily recognized and admitted to almost any room, unless an important conference was taking place. She made her way straight to Florina’s room and knocked on the door softly. “It’s Emeralda,” she said quietly.
She waited impatiently, fingers smoothing down the forest-green sleeves of her sweater, and passing down to her short green skirt, as if she was tidying herself up for the meeting. The door was finally opened by Alex; but instead of leaving it open and letting Emeralda pass he left the room and closed the door behind him.
“What do you want, Emeralda?” he asked. “Florina is very ill, and must not be disturbed.”
Emeralda’s anger had abated somewhat during her quick journey, but now it welled again. Alex’s face was white and tired, and his eyes had a very dark color; but Emeralda was too preoccupied with what the maid had told her about Alex’s decree, and she ignored these warning signs. “Is it true that you denied a request to heal Snow?” she asked him with a voice tight with repressed emotions.
Alex eyed her coolly, propping his body back against the wall. “Yes, I did,” he replied quietly.
“But Snow might be dying!” Emeralda burst out suddenly, her lips trembling. “He’s not as strong as other people, Alex. And it’s Core Waning.”
Alex perceived that she was deeply agitated, and his countenance relaxed from its passive mask, his eyes losing their inky hue. “Listen, Emeralda,” he said, shifting his position slightly as he tried to support his fatigued muscles, his voice containing a gentler tone now, a hint of sympathy. “No one dies from Core Waning after two days. Snow has a good chance to survive until after tomorrow.”
“And how will YOU know?” Emeralda asked heatedly, her fists clenching. Alex’s eyebrow flew up; he had never seen Emeralda truly angry before. But he explained himself patiently enough. “I know because I’ve been with Florina for a while and studied the sickness for myself.”
“Let me see Florina,” Emeralda demanded. “I know she’ll feel differently about this.”
“I’m sure that she will,” Alex replied with a very cool tone. “But her feelings are not going to be consulted at this moment.”
Emeralda’s cheeks flushed with anger at this apparent indifference on Alex’s part. “You are cold-blooded and egotistic!” she lashed at him, her eyes glittering. “You care about no one but Florina! And,” she added, “since when do YOU have the authority to decide upon the actions of the Clarius? Even Black Pearl never prevented Florina from healing anyone. On the contrary!”
Alex had listened to her last speech silently, but his eyes turned dark with simmering anger. After Emeralda finished speaking he fixed them on her and said with a concise, biting voice: “Listen here, you brat. Florina right now has a greater chance of dying than Snow. She has been excessively burdened with healing lately and she needs to recover her strength. You might not care about killing Florina at the expense of your friend, but I have a very different opinion. She is not going today, and that’s final. Understand me?”
His lashing reproof seemed to abate Emeralda’s fury. Her body relaxed, and she hung her head, her cheeks flooding with shame. “I’m, I’m sorry!” she stammered, her fists pressing against her mouth with a remorseful gesture. “I didn’t know that Florina was feeling that ill… I am just so worried!” To Alex’s surprise she threw herself on him and wrapped her arms around his shoulders. “I don’t want Snow to die!”
“Now, now, brat, no need to get excited,” Alex said, his wrath receding at once. He patted Emeralda’s head soothingly, with great good humor. “I think I can do something myself, if you let me.”
Emeralda looked up at him, a glimmer of hope in her eyes, and Alex’s quirky smile appeared now. “Remember the medicine I usually give Florina? I think they might help Snow meanwhile.”
Emeralda passed her hand over her face. “Thank you,” she gulped.
“No need to be sad,” Alex said kindly. He put a distance between them and smiled into her eyes, his hands on her shoulders. “I’ve never seen you get so emotional over anything, brat. It’s unscientific, you know. And if you act like this again—“ he winked at her slyly— “I’ll spread vicious rumors about you and that walking skeleton that somehow passes for a boy.”
Emeralda’s cheeks acquired a red tinge again, but she had regained control of her temper and retorted without much ado: “If you do, I’ll tell Elazul about you, Alex.”
Alex quirked an eyebrow at her. “And what exactly do you mean by that?”
“You know very well,” Emeralda replied ominously, looking straight into Alex’s eyes. But Alex only laughed in response and rose to his feet, fixing his hair and smoothing down his dark jacket.
“Unfortunately, brat, your tactic will come to naught this time,” he replied affably. “Elazul knows worse things of me than you can ever guess.”
Florina, gathering her strength, went to heal Snow two days later. Alex’s medicine managed to keep Snow afloat, for his condition was, indeed, far from good; and he survived the fever and was on a fair way to mending. But Florina herself became ill again immediately afterwards, for Snow’s healing sapped much of the energy she had recovered during her previous rest; and this time her illness proved enduring. She lay low for six days, and during this time Alex strictly forbade any calls to be made to her.
On the seventh day Elazul visited Florina and found her sitting in her bed, looking pale but with visibly good spirits, and absurdly childlike in her white lace nightgown. “Florina complains that I kept her in bed for too long,” Alex informed Elazul.
Elazul seated himself on the edge of Florina’s bed, examining her, and reflecting that she still didn’t look well; but he liked the fact that her expression was content and that the usual glint of humor brightened her eyes. “Heaven help us if the royal court hears about this,” he remarked ironically. “They might think that you two were enjoying yourselves unduly.”
Alex was sitting at the handsome mahogany desk attached to the green wall flanking Florina’s bed, and appeared busy with reading some papers. Without turning around he said at once, “Florina, I would like to disclaim any credit for corrupting Elazul into this one.”
But Florina had enjoyed this comment, and invited Elazul to stay in the room for a while. “You see how he sits at the desk, reading?” she asked, indicating Alex with a fretful gesture. “That is what he’s been doing for a week now. He made no effort at all to amuse me.”
“And why should I, you spoiled child?” asked Alex good-humoredly.
“You shouldn’t ask why; as my knight, you should just obey me,” replied Florina placidly.
At this Alex paused and turned around, showing Elazul a mournful countenance. “You see what I had to endure?” he asked.
“I sympathize with your ordeal,” answered Elazul dryly. Alex fixed him with a steady stare, and finally Elazul, somewhat flushed, said, “Please turn back to your papers, Alex.”
A derisive smile pulled Alex’s mouth, but he returned to his reading. Elazul regarded his turned back for a short duration; the expression in his eyes was vague and abstract, as if he was contemplating something distant. He did not notice, as he did so, that he was being narrowly scrutinized by Florina.
After a moment, however, Elazul rose to his feet. “I can tell that you are in a belligerent mood,” he observed. “I think that I better be off.”
“Of course, my dear,” answered Alex without turning around.
Elazul flushed at this form of address; his glance immediately darted towards Florina, and he could see that she was trying hard to stifle a laugh. She looked up and their eyes met; and for a moment an understanding flashed between them. A smile edged Elazul’s mouth, though his color remained heightened; but he said nothing except, “Well, then, I shall not disturb you any longer.”
Alex did not seem to hear Elazul, and remained sitting with his back to them, oblivious to the fact that Elazul left the room and closed the door behind him. After a few moments of silence Florina leant forward in the bed.
“Alex,” she said.
“What?” he asked briskly.
“Did you notice how you addressed Elazul?”
“How did I?” asked Alex, barely paying attention.
“You called him ‘my dear’,” Florina informed him.
Alex paused at this, swiveling in the chair and looking at Florina. “Did I?” he asked, appearing highly amused. “I wasn’t thinking.”
“Apparently not. I beg you not to do so again,” added Florina. “Unless, of course, you wish to expose yourself.”
But Alex lost interest in the conversation, and turned to his documents again. “Well, I’ll try. Not that it matters,” he added, shrugging a shoulder dismissively.
“It matters to me,” said Florina fretfully, snuggling herself back under the blue covers and glaring at him. “I thought that you only addressed ME as ‘my dear’.”
“Florina,” said Alex threateningly, “I’ve been trying to concentrate for an hour now, and I would appreciate no further interruptions.”
“You can be so manly sometimes,” sighed Florina, leaning against the pillow.
“Rather frightening, isn’t it?” Alex responded coolly.
“I rather like my Alex,” mused Florina, staring dreamily into the cream-colored wall just opposite. “Do you think you could duplicate yourself and leave the real Alex to me?”
“I can plainly see that you are in a frivolous mood today, Florina,” Alex remarked censoriously.
Florina sighed again. She laid her cheek against the pillow’s white cover and placed her hand under it, turning her head to the wall. “I just feel like falling in love with someone,” she confessed. “Do I have your permission to fall in love with Elazul?”
“If you so wish,” Alex answered evenly.
He was, however, more disposed to conversation after he folded the documents for a brief break. Turning around, he rested his arms on the chair and looked at Florina with a critical expression that nevertheless contained amusement. “Come on,” he said, “what is it, my dear?”
Florina turned her head towards him and her beautiful smile glimmered. “Well, I was just remembering Saristin.”
Alex appeared interested. “I never heard of him. Is he special?” He winked at Florina. “Not, I trust, as special as I am?”
She gave a tiny laugh. “No one is like you, Alex, for you are quite singular.”
“This wasn’t the reply I was expecting,” Alex answered severely. But Florina, ignoring him, continued her explanation, her eyes wandering to the wall again. “Saristin is the Jumi of Celestite. A dissenter, I suppose I could call him, though he is the only Jumi who left the city that never got branded in this way. He left the city many years ago, when I was about Emeralda’s age. He studied the knighthood under Black Pearl, and I believe that he was her best student, for which reason she actually never censured his action. His parents were friends with my father, and this is how I met him many times; and he was always so very— “ her smile turned reminiscent— “kind to me. He was so tall and fine-looking, and I was just a plain little girl who adored him.”
Alex eyed her speculatively, but his expression was serious for once. “Obviously you had feelings for this protégé,” he remarked.
Florina gave a small laugh. “As I said, it was a girlish dream of sorts! It was a long time ago. From what I understand he became a dragoon. I suppose that he will never return to the city.”
“I understand,” Alex answered. He mused for a moment, gazing at her, as if deliberating over his next words, but then he straightened and said briskly, “Well, soon we’ll have time to look for him, if you so wish.”
Florina turned her eyes towards him, then suddenly raised herself in the bed. “Alex, you— don’t mean what I think you are saying?”
“I most certainly do,” Alex replied concisely, passing his fingers through the brown strands of hair that fell around his brow with a light, inconsequent gesture. “In three days we are leaving this city, Florina. I don’t know how your personally feel about it,” he added, a smile appearing, “but I’ll be damned if I let you die.”
She lowered her eyes now, biting her lips. “Alex, I—“
His eyebrow lifted, and his fingers slowed at their work. “You will not come with me, Florina?”
Her hand smoothed the silken blue covers of the bed rather nervously. “I am worried— about the— the sick Jumi—“
Alex contemplated her for a moment. She was as thin as a skeleton, her hands almost transparent, her cheeks wan. Even her humorous grey eyes had lost the blue tinge they usually possessed, and their color was dark and dull. Her straight brown hair, loosened from its ribbons, fell around her thin shoulders in lusterless threads.
“They’ll find someone to replace you, I don’t care who,” he said bitingly, suddenly losing his temper. “Really, Florina, how long do you expect to survive in these conditions?”
Florina said nothing for a long while, and Alex watched her lowered countenance. “I am warning you,” he added with sincere grimness, “that if you will not comply I shall take you by force.”
She laughed and passed her slender hand over her eyes; but it was a trembling, unhappy laugh. “No, no, I— I will come with you, Alex.”
And on the very next day, a rapidly thinning December atmosphere welcomed Black Pearl back into the Jumi city.
It has been almost four months since Black Pearl ventured out into her journey to the tower of Leires. The tower itself was two weeks’ travel from the Jumi city, and no one knew what caused her unusual delay. As soon as she returned she enclosed herself with Diana and Rubens for a secret conference. No one could ascertain whether her mission had been a success, and tongues in the city wagged with guesses. But one thing was certain; Alex was to relinquish his position as the Knight of Clarius and give the title back to Black Pearl.
Elazul thought it expedient to visit Alex that very day and warn him about the approaching replacement, and he caught up with him on the street for a brief conversation. “I know you are worried about Florina, but don’t let Black Pearl know,” he cautioned. “Remember, Alex, that Black Pearl will not take kindly to interference.”
Alex listened to Elazul’s stricture with a fixed expression, and after Elazul ceased speaking he asked, with a derisive smile, “Since when did you become Black Pearl’s mouthpiece, Elazul?”
Elazul was never known for his patience, and he was beginning to lose his temper. “Stop evading the issue, Alex. I am thinking of your well-being.”
“But not of Florina’s,” Alex remarked sardonically.
Elazul’s eyes flashed with wrath. “You better apologize for that, Alex.”
Alex remained standing against the wall with his arms folded, his dark eyes simmering as he stared ahead at nothing particular. “I apologize,” he finally said. Then he stretched with careless grace, keeping his face averted from Elazul. “But if you think that you can get me to cower before Black Pearl, you’re wrong, Elazul. Then again, I’m not the one who’s trying to win her favors.” His eyes flickered at Elazul with a mocking look.
Elazul remained looking at him for a few moments, then said shortly, “Go to hell, Alex, and take your damnable arrogance with you.” He then turned around and left. Alex remained looking after him; then he suddenly begun to laugh. He continued to laugh until he nearly doubled over, and had to crouch and lean against the wall in the middle of the street. Bypassers stared at him curiously, but he ignored them and remained crouched on his heels, leaning against the wall, a strange smile playing about his mouth.
“Oh, do condemn me, Elazul,” he said, “for the little bitch that I am! Dammit, but this place is worse than the other one ever was. In the other one, I at least had some inner control, and didn’t give a damn about anything. Here I am beginning to have no control at all.” His fingers clenched, digging into his palm painfully, and the smile turned crooked. “And how I do hate it. But I WILL regain that control, and soon.”
Comment: This is the information on Saristin; he will come in actual person later:
Saristin: (or Celestain, the Celestite Jumi). His age is 28 in human terms, and he has a sky stone (meteor?) as his core. He was never hunted by Sandra (she might not have dared to because he is too powerful). He is actually a Dragoon of the Wisdom Dragon of the wind.
Here’s how I envision the heights of the characters:
Saristin- 6’4”
Rubens- 6’2”
Elazul- 6’
Black Pearl- 5’10”
Alex- 5’8”
Snow- 5’7”
Florina- 5’5”
Emeralda- 5’4”
Amber- 5’4”
Diana- 5’3”
Sapphire- 5’3”
.