54th day of the 10230th year since the passing of Kriene
Zander found it quite strange that once enamour settled in, it was more keenly felt and expressed in the absence of its intended target, rather than in its presence.
Zander couldn’t help but blame himself a little for not saying or doing more in his time in the meadow with Elyria.
The significances of their time together seemed to devolve into nothingness, even though Zander knew it was special.
In retrospect, it felt like there was so much more that could and should have been done, but really it was the thoughts and fantasies of a relatively long absence trying to realise themselves in brief moments which had passed long ago.
This realisation did not help Zander’s daydreaming.
Part of him couldn’t help but resent her absence but Zander did not like this part of his.
Flame or not, Zander did not want to have this possessive feeling towards anyone which would restrict them in any way.
It was a pitfall for less evolved beings with control issues or a misunderstanding of the concept of liking someone (regardless of the intensity of it).
He would not want to be the target of such feelings either.
Nonetheless he found himself justifying her absence to this undesirable part of him.
It wasn’t hard either.
She wasn’t part of the drift and had her own life.
The fact that she’d helped them with the prison break had been a huge favour in and of itself.
And it was the drift’s world that was restricted to the Opaline Tide, not hers.
Why should she spend her life bound to a small radius of a small vessel.
These did a good job of making him feel guilty and ashamed for having such thoughts.
And that kept him from talking to the others about it.
Because there really was nothing to talk about.
He’d solved it himself and they couldn’t tell him anything that he had not told himself, that too multiple times.
The party had been a welcome prospect for Zander.
He had a chance to meet new people, lose himself in music, the crowd or in a specific someone’s presence.
It was much to look forward to and the hopes and fears of disappointment with respect to the party (and the remainder of his time in Kinamel, which seemed to be highly correlated with the outcome of the party) replaced Elyria in much of the mindspace she had been occupying within Zander.
Even though Zander had never been in any non-platonic relationship before Elyria, it was no chimera to him.
His anxiety had nothing to do with his ability to find someone, but the potential permanence of this heaviness within him.
What if it screwed up his behaviour and body language at the party?
What if it still did not go away or lessen?
These were all, of course, the more petty class of problems, he realised – and stemmed from the privilege he had.
That didn’t stop him from chivvying Callie into sharing her make-up with him, but to no avail.
He thought to target Sylviane next but then – in a brief moment of enlightenment – decided to not unnecessarily pester her.
It was just his mind trying to aggravate his anxiety by finding something to worry over.
Zander never understood why his mind took such antagonistic stances with respect to his well-being.
He liked to think of it as a biological defect special to him, though it was not.
But this defect in particular had this quality that only his own was highlighted so sharply to him, the others’ negligibly in stark contrast.
Upon their arrival, Zander had really grown a bit fed up with all the anticipation he had built within himself and just wanted to let it out.
Dancing was instantly identified as the best – and only – medium available.
Linny was a natural seconder to his idea – there wasn’t much else for the demon to do, he had eaten a hearty dinner and any socialisation only increased the risks of exposure.
Sylviane decided to join them as well.
Zander was all the happier for the company.
While he was no stranger to dancing alone at parties and was not too conscious of himself, he could not in full honesty say that it wasn’t at least a little bit pathetic when one was in a party of several dozen people.
As they made their way to where people were dancing, Zander realised that the music was nothing of the sort he’d ever heard before, and that he could not even make out the lyrics.
But he definitely could vibe to whatever it was – which turned out to be a live performance by half a dozen pixies and a couple of aquatic centaurs.
The crowd was most dense close to the stage – Zander couldn’t blame them, the music only sounded richer the closer he got – so the three of them took up space in the outskirts of the innermost cluster of people.
It was a nice space near the edge of the pier.
There were railings – five horizontal bars of steel running along a foot apart from each other – so there was no risk of anyone falling over, though it would have been really funny if someone did, especially if that someone were one of the seven.
Zander found it quite easy to break into dance, especially with the encouragement of Linny even more eager and active than he was.
Linny seemed to be more comfortable and free in such a crowd.
Perhaps it made him feel a keener sense of belongingness.
Travelling alone for such an extended period of time could increase one’s longing for such events and social bonding.
A few minutes later – after the end of a particularly peppy song, Zander’s awareness returned in some semblance and he noticed that another group of farers were dancing right next to them.
A few minutes later, one of them – a red haired woman who appeared to be in her early twenties – caught Zander’s eye, primarily because it felt to him that she had been looking at him, though that could very well be wishful thinking.
It happens often that one’s conviction, outlook and desires influences their reality more than their external environment itself.
Whatever the case may have been, when Zander’s eyes had lingered on the woman for a few second, her eyes – whose colour could not be discerned, only their darkness – turned up to meet his.
Zander blinked and turned his gaze away of what was meant to be a composed manner.
The igniting restlessness within him told him the facade had not worked.
His eyes returned to hers a few minutes later.
With the inevitable accuracy of clockwork, her eyes rendezvoused with his yet again.
Their tryst was more lengthy this time around and Zander was acutely aware of Linny looking at him and a little annoyed – however misdirected the feeling might be – at his gaze for lessening his perceived intimacy of the moment.
Eventually, through mutual reciprocating actions, the two first shifted within their circles to be closer to each other.
Then they slowly and subtly merged the two circles, opposite each other.
The music was drowning out every other sound, just as the sight of her – where his eyes could naturally rest without awkwardness or guilt – blurred everything else from view.
Only she – in her redness, goldness and greenness.
Zander could sense her grace, even though he never once looked at her properly below her chin.
He had no idea how she was dancing, or if his moves were completely incompatible with hers or horrible in general.
There was a separate dance, much more significant.
Suddenly, Zander felt a bit jarred.
This was another period of time stretching so long but holding the nothingness and fullness of a moment.
And he was powerless to make it anything but so.
This consciousness must have made him distant because he could now observe her reaching out to him, trying to pull him back into their meadow of flashing ethereality.
And Zander returned just as the music slowed into something meant as a buffer for people to catch their breath after a solid run of songs with fast beats.
Even though their circle started to mellow down into non-committal swaying, the two of them held each other and pulled each other close with their eyes until their faces were a foot apart.
“Hi.” he said a little breathlessly.
The woman laughed, her eyes closing a little and Zander smiled, noticing out of the corner of his eyes that their friends were subtly disappearing into the crowd.
“Hey yourself, pretty boy.” she replied.
“If you think I look pretty now, you should see me in make-up.” he said, equal parts sincere and flirtatious.
She laughed again, louder this time.
He could get quite used to that sound.
There was just something so endearing about hearing the laugh of someone one was attracted to.
To see them in the element of joy – in the state of most beauty – was so gratifying,
“Funny as well.
It must be my lucky day.
What is your name?”
“Zander, and yours?”
“Therese.” she said and did not deign to say anything further.
“Now that we are introduced, I hope it would not be too forward for me to ask you for a dance.”
“It would not be.” she said and remained unmoving.
Zander frowned a little and then smiled as he saw her lips curl and realised that she was waiting for him to ask her.
“May I have a dance?” he said as his right hand moved towards her a little.
She sensed it without her eyes straying even a bit and took his right hand before taking his waist with her right.
“You may have two.” she said and pulled him closer which Zander was able to give in to without stumbling, though his left hand went to her bicep instinctively for support… and then stayed there.
And then they started to move, slowly at first, feeling out the rhythm and how the other moved.
Their eyes stayed on each other, though, getting into tempo purely through the feel of it.
Zander eventually realised that a smile had been permanently plastered to his face and that he might be looking quite the fool – or worse, a creep.
A frantic scan of her eyes revealed that nothing was amiss to her and he relaxed a little, trying to keep his smile from spreading too wide as his movements got smoother.
As the lights got less flashy and grew gentler, he was able to make out her eyes.
They were a beautiful green, reminiscent of the stardust Zander remembered seeing ever so often back at Lom’s Heel.
“My schooling was done in the ninety-sixth, if that’s what you mean.” she replied and Zander nodded a little.
“And yours?”
“The eighty-first.”
“So, what brings you here?”
“Taking a small break before continuing for our assignment.
What about you?”
“Likewise.
Have you also been assigned the sixty-fifth?”
“Mhmm.
Have all your assignments been here?”
“No… my drift started in the ninety-sixth, but we got bored of Lament.”
“It’s that bad?”
“Bad is not the word I’d use, but it is unlikely to conform to the tastes of most farers, especially the old-timers.”
“Would you consider yourself an old-timer?” he teased.
“Oh… I look old up close, is that it?” she replied with a grin.
“No… but I wouldn’t have minded if you did.”
“Oh, really?” she dragged out the question and looked scandalised, though the amusement in her eyes gave it away.
“Well, I had hoped to find someone more appreciative of my youth – or what’s left of it.” she grinned.
“But you’ll do.”
Zander smiled back as she slowed them to a stop, leaning towards him, not having to bend for their lips to touch.
And touch they did, so beautifully.
Zander kind of froze a little.
It was his first kiss and he received her lips quite passively before being emboldened into action as she pressed him closer to her, her hand leaving his and cupping his neck.
He was gentle and a bit cautious in returning her kiss, though the latter eventually got thrown to the wind as the two grew more passionate.
His left hand traveled up her arm to grip her shoulder, his right hesitantly resting on the curve of her hip.
Time flew once again, and Zander soared right alongside it.
This feeling of being intertwined – of being impossibly close to the other till they were almost one – filled him with this uplifting feeling of elation.
Close to a quarter of an hour had passed like this until Zander had to come up for air, having taken only the bare minimum for the aforementioned period.
Small breathy laughs of elation escaped his lips, her lips smiling as she rested her forehead against his.
“You kiss well… for a first timer.” she teased and traced his jaw with her thumb.
“It is that apparent, is it?” said Zander a little gloomily.
“Not after the first couple minutes, no.” she said kindly.
“I’m feeling thirsty, shall we go and grab a drink?”
“I think I could even grab something to eat.” said Zander.
All the physical activity had aided greatly in restoring his appetite after what had been a light dinner.
“Sure, we’ll get you something.
It would reflect poorly if you passed out under my care.” she grinned teasingly.
And so they went, hand-in-hand.
Beers were most abundantly available among the mild intoxicants so that is what they grabbed.
Zander also found some nice human food in the form of chicken bites – which he unabashedly stacked as much of as he could on a plate.
While finding a more quiet spot to talk, they ran into some of her driftfellows, a couple of which he recognised from before.
Conversation was nice, though he would have preferred it to be avoidable, which it was not.
Their drift – the Windriders – seemed nice and seemed to have a lot to say, especially about Lament and the government – which made him a willing prisoner of the conversation eventually.
“Truth be told, I couldn’t wait to get out of there.” said Amelie, an environmentalist with their drift.
“I simply love how the Faring is here.
Even though our time in Lament wasn’t so bad as compared to some of the other tales we’ve heard, this is a much needed change of pace.
How do you like it so far?”
“We’ve really just started a few days ago.
It’s not enough time to form an opinion.
But so far, so good.” Zander said with a small smile.
“Have you all ever had the chance to visit a proper city?
Like one fully integrated with the technologies they have.”
“We did.” said Perisone, one of the navigators.
“It was eye-opening, all of the beautiful things they had there.
Every facility operated with such punctuality and efficiency.
It was a pity that they restricted our movements within the city.
But it really gives one the appeal of the assimilating.”
Around three started to speak at once but Perisone continued.
“Of course, my driftfellows don’t agree with me and they disliked the ninety-sixth – including the cities – so much that they eventually had our drift reassigned.
Now we can’t even see our other friends from the ninety-sixth.”
“They had grown to become markedly different over the years.
They weren’t the same people we knew back in school.
Their values and thoughts are different.
We couldn’t let the weight of what we had with them keep us down.” Amelie explained.
“Did you get to see any unnaturals back home?” asked Zander.
“Not in school, of course.” answered Goumes, a liaison.
“But we’ve seen many unnaturals while on assignments, though we are strongly encouraged to not interact with them.
It is unavoidable sometimes when work is linked to them in some form or the other.”
“Linked as in?” he questioned.
“The unnaturals have been employed in a lot of economic activities in Lament.
Sometimes I felt that I saw more of the unnaturals than I did the other drifts.” he joked.
Zander smiled a little.
He felt very averse to that prospect and could understand why they had come to Apricity.
Interacting with assimilators was unlikely to be much of a therapeutic activity either.
After such a conversation, Zander did not think himself capable of transitioning back into a more lovey-dovey mood – as Alaric liked to put it.
But his capabilities – or rather, hers – were underestimated.
No sooner had they ditched her driftfellows and found a suitable spot were they entangled in each other again –
55th day of the 10230th year since the passing of Kriene
– until what would be the closing of the first hour of the new day when the party had slowed down considerably and Amelie came.
But Zander could not blame her.
They had been at it awfully long and there was not much life left in the party.
Using his shoulders as support, Therese pushed off of him, though she did not look at Amelie.
“I’ll see you around, pretty boy.”
Zander smiled and nodded.
He certainly hoped so.
It was a couple minutes later after she had left that Zander realised that not only had Elyria not crossed his thoughts ever since he’d seen Therese, the whole molehill with Elyria did not seem like the mountain he had made it out to be.
It seemed relatively insignificant, a happenstance like any other – not to be accorded with such importance and weight.
With such matters not clouding his mind, he finally thought of his drift.
He hoped that Linny and Sylviane had not taken his behaviour in an unkindly manner.
It was not like he could offer them a detailed explanation or justification even if they did.
In any case, it was time to find his driftfellows – if they were still around, that was.
It took him a couple minutes to spot them off the pier, sitting by the lakeside.
Two… Four… Yup.
Everyone’s there.
He quickly sprinted to the end of the pier, then taking a left, steadying himself as he slipped a little on the sand, slowing into a walk as he approached the beach mat they were sitting on.
“Nice of you to join us.” said Sylviane dryly.
“I had full faith in you, buddy.” Venedir said with a grin.
“I knew you’d choose my handsome face over any girl.”
Zander sighed a little as he sat down.
“It seems I am stuck with you after all, Venny-boy.”
It had been around fifteen minutes since Zander had sat down with the drift when they all heard an unusual kind of commotion from the direction of the Pier.
It definitely did not sound like an afterparty.
As the din only grew louder and more chaotic, they got up and started heading towards that direction.
Hardly a few dozen people remained and they were all clustered towards the left side of the Pier, some having even disembarked.
As they approached the crowd, Gwenyth slowly shifted and slipped through it to come out ahead, with Zander right behind her.
Whatever residual light-headedness and buzz he had vanished almost entirely as he stared at the corpse of a human, stabbed right through its heart.
It was all Zander could do to not recoil into the person standing behind him, though his body shivered involuntarily and he felt his left leg – the one he had less weight on – trembling.
Without saying a word to Gwenyth, he quickly retreated back into what now seemed to be a sea of people – which he was drowning in.
He was hyperventilating by the time he emerged but no amount of oxygen could ease the tightness and lack of breath he felt.
He did not go back to where the others were standing but instantly went to the Pier, sitting on the first edge he could find.
Maybe that would help.
It didn’t, but Gwenyth was by his side soon enough and he persisted with his breathing, which helped.
Once he felt okay enough to talk, he turned to Gwenyth.
“Who is that?
What do they know?”
“Looks like a farer.
After all, who else could he be?
The local authorities are coming.”
“Will that be the grassfolk or the lakefolk?”
“Who knows?
Both, maybe.” she shrugged.
“Either way, if you’re feeling well enough, we should go.
The rest of them look like they can’t wait to get out of here.”
“So much for vacationing in peace, huh?”
“Damn right.” she said and sighed.
The walk back to the villa was awfully subdued and depressing.
If Zander were not so aware of the pitfalls of self-attribution, he would have speculated that trouble was following the drift.
Calling their drift Serendipity felt quite ironic at that moment.
It seemed that every attempt at their relaxation was being thwarted with vehemence.
The news had not reached the town, and all for the better in his opinion.
The people could have one more night of restful sleep.
If there was a murderer on the loose and targeting farers, it would be best if they were to make haste and leave.
But since that would not be known for at least a few hours, there was nothing to be done but sit or sleep in silence.
Zander opted for the former, since any and all hypnic notions eluded him.
Unfortunately, exhaustion didn’t, even after he’d had a couple cups of coffee, made for him by Finley, who could not sleep either.
Zander was glad that if he had to have a companion for the night, it was Finley and not someone else.
He could be sparing with words when it was needed, and Zander wanted to cling to the silence, outside and within.
Finley ensured the former, and his exhaustion the latter.
It was around midnight that the restlessness seemed to have gotten the better of Finley, who went from pacing around the living room to walking out the front door.
Zander did not have the willpower or energy to call after him.
It was only then that he realised the role Finley had been playing in keeping him calm.
In his absence, anxieties managed to surface even in his tired mind.
He found himself imagining various distressing scenarios.
What if the murderer kills Finley?
What if they come here?
What if there’s more than one?
These ‘what-ifs’ kept Zander engaged in unrealistic but immersive daymares, and his heart gradually started to race – not able to distinguish imagination from reality.
But his weariness only increased the more his mind exerted itself and his poor body and eventually Zander was reduced to a half-sleeping, half-delirious state, an equilibrium of sorts where the exertion and rest were cancelling each other out, though it was not a terribly fun experience for its host.
Zander stayed slumped, sinking into the sofa in that trance-like state for an unknown amount of time, only coming out of it when Finley returned and came to him.
“Oh good, you got some rest.” He said and sat beside him.
“How are you feeling?”
“Absolute shit.” Zander managed to mumble out.
Even speaking was a gruelling task.
Finley nodded a little.
“This won’t help then.
Another corpse has been found, this time in the forests between the town and lake.” Zander remained mute which Finley saw as a green light to continue.
“What’s more curious is – and I think you’ll like this – it’s that both of these people were government officials.” Finley’s tone reflected the disbelief which was voiced thereafter.
“I mean, what?
What are they even doing here?
There is no government building here.
Heck, there isn’t even a Faring building here.”
Zander’s eyebrows furrowed a little bit and he managed to turn his head thirty degrees towards Finley.
“Why would I like this?”
Finley smiled a little.
“Not in the literal sense of the word.
What I meant is that it’s interesting and that we – as farers – have nothing to worry about.”
Zander paused and then jerked his head is what was meant to be a nod.
It certainly was a load off.
His worries for some government officials’ lives were surely insignificant compared to his fears for him and his drift.
It wasn’t that his humanity and empathy were lacking, only that his instincts for self-preservation (the drift was essentially part of the self) were much, much greater.
“I think-” Finley started and Zander’s head creaked another fifteen degrees towards him, the latter’s eyebrows raising a little.
“that it was meant as a distraction – this killing on land and water.
To aggravate both grassfolk and lakefolk.
Though I know not to what end.” He said and shrugged.
“I’ll spare you the gory details though, Zander.
You look worse than you did when I left you, no offense.” He said and gave him a compressed-lip half-grimace, half-smile.
His facial expressions did not uplift Zander’s mood, and the words didn’t help either.
His souring thoughts must have reflected on his face as Finley raised his hands a little.
“You should sleep now.
I’ll be around.
I think I’ll only sleep when one of the others is awake.” he said gently as a mode to offer comfort.
“Do you want to go up to your room or shall I bring a blanket down here for you?”
“I think I’d like a blanket here.” said Zander simply.
Finley nodded and got up.
Zander started but could only get a word out by the time his back was turned and he’d walked a couple steps.
“Finn?”
He turned and his silver eyes looked into Zander’s.
“Thank you, man.”
Finley smiled a little and shook his head.
“It’s nothing.
Go to sleep.”
So Zander did, even before his friend returned with the blanket.