Alomina or The Book of Many Journeys Ch. 9
Chapter Nine: The First Raindrops
When they got back, Alomina went and stayed in her room a small while to give Percy some time alone before she went to him. When she finally decided to go to him, she went slowly. Stair by stair, on the spiral staircase, she ascended quietly, dreading what event of misfortune she might discover.
When she reached the door to his bedroom, she gently knocked and waited, every second wondering if she should go back. When a weary and sad voice replied:
"Come in", she did as it bade.
She entered very slowly. Percy had apparently been facing the window, but now as she entered he turned to face her. His state was worthy of the tiny tear that Mina shed as she observed it.
His eyes seemed deep somehow, either tired or sorrowful, perhaps both. His countenance was very pale, and his slightly curled chocolate-brown hair was untidy and distraught-looking, as though he had been running his hands through it many times over (which he often did when he was distressed). He attempted a rather weak smile when he noticed her, but it was merely a veil over his true stance.
She gasped in pity. She ran straight to him, put her arms around him, and put her head on his shoulder. She choked a tear. She could not bear to see him like this, and even though he tried to conceal his desolate state, she knew he was miserable.
"Percy, please tell me what's troubling you, I can't bear to see you like this!", she cried, looking into his deep, sad eyes.
He put his own arms around her, and sadly told her all, from beginning to end. She kissed his head, and attempted to console him, but even Alomina (who knew little or nothing of romance) knew that his heart had been shattered, and most likely could not be mended--even by her.
For at least an hour or two, she sat in his strong arms, trying to comfort him. When she finally went to bed, she had every trouble going to sleep, for, she thought only of her poor Percy, but this time there was little or nothing that she could do. When she did eventually get to sleep, her sleep was unsteady, and her dreams dim and sad, like fog in the distance.
***
In the morning, after breakfast, she woke and still thought only of healing the wounds. She decided she would ask Percy to go riding with her to perhaps try to keep his mind on something else.
So she kept his comfort in her mind all throughout the time it took her to get downstairs and even all throughout their breakfasting. When they were breakfasting, little or nothing was said, though she was sure there was much that was kept silent. As they were breakfasting in that dreary silence, a letter came for Percy.
He opened it and began to read it. When he had read it, he went a shade paler, but then regained his composure and vigorously tore it into pieces. Alomina was rather alarmed at this, but she didn't question his behavior aloud. Mina noticed he seemed slightly off, but she thought it was probably only because of the night before.
Whatever it was, she dared not ask. But she questioned the mysterious happening with concern. Perhaps it was more ill news. Oh, alas that such ill times should find her and her brother all at once! How often it was that unfortunate times were evaded for so long, and then they would all come at once, pouncing like a panther poised to strike for too long. This was how it stood presently. What more could come? She dared not ask because she knew evil days would always come if beckoned--no matter how terrible things were already--they would still come.
But she had to put aside and ignore such thoughts were she to cheer Percy, so she asked him to go riding with her, and he replied positively, though in a rather flat, lifeless tone, as though every thought and emotion had been simply siphoned away. So they rode to the glade, but Percy did not joke at all, unlike all the other times they had come there. Percy sat down by the rose bushes, and picked a white rose, but dropped it because he pricked his finger. He watched the blood trickle down it, but without any true interest. His mind was clearly somewhere else, somewhere far away.
So she made a wildflower chain for him, as she always did, hoping perhaps it would lift his spirits. He didn't notice it any more than he did the thorn-prick, and Mina bit her lip in her worry and sorrow that she could not do anything for his deep wound.
Once they were back, she went to her room, and sat on her immense, four-posted bed. She thought of all that had occurred in the past few days. How so much could happen and so much could change in so little time. She wondered what that letter Percy had gotten was. She wondered how long it would take for Percy be rid of this whole thing. She wondered if her brother would ever truly be the same again.
***
Celeise gazed out into the desolately gray sky beyond the tower window she stood by. The tower stood high and looked to the east, where the dawn began as the midnight faded from sight. So early, and yet she could do but little else beside waken and watch the dawn. The metaphoric dawn that so unashamedly foretold her future and her hopeless present. She shivered in the wakening light that did not yet warm her.
She was cold with the breath of the night and pale with the chill of the darkest hours. She stared at the aged cold night that was breaking from its blackened tone into a wizened gray while the breeze blew carelessly about her, tossing her snow-white gown around her fair figure and scattering her golden tresses over her pale and scantily covered shoulders. She watched the silver sullenness of the day's beginning streak through its many stages.
The sun was out of sight, and the sky was silver with the yet-to-come dawn. Clouds gathered and shifted, but the sky remained gray for the moment. Then the first few tiny rays of gold bent into the sky, shining through the clouds and into the gray sky. The sky streaked with edging and ever-growing light, first a tiny prick, into a bleeding wound in the hoary sky.
She shed a tear as one small beam of light touched the tower that held her. She stretched out her unscratched hand to reach it, but it only fell cold upon her fingers, with little warmth to spare. The little beam was only a vision. She could not feel the warmth of only a mirage, a mere projection of what she really yearned for. She glanced at her hand as the tiny light shifted upwards and off of her hand slowly.
Would this be forever how it was? Would she ever be in a grand tower, only from a glassless window observing the light and dark of the rest of the world? Would she ever truly feel the sunlight upon her pale face? Would she ever truly feel the glowing warmth of the freedom that it granted, the freedom to see the light and feel what it really meant? No, perhaps never. Once, she thought she had. Once, not so very long ago. But that sunlight was gone. That dawn had quickly turned into dusk for her. Now, she could only watch her sun sink into the sky forever, as another person's sun rose, someone's heart was lifted away from the bitter night and into the aurora that would never again be hers.
She felt a hand upon her cold shoulder. She looked behind her, and then back at the gray dawn. It was her father. His eyes had spoken the sorrow and regret that he had to be the one to give her this duty to her country and this binding to her fate. He was silent, but only grasped her shoulder in what was perhaps an attempt at comforting.
She likewise said nothing, but knew that all that needed to be said, was said, all that needed to be forgiven was forgiven, and all that was done was done forevermore. And so, wordless in tongue but strong in heart, she gazed once more out into the gray aurora, a tear streaming down her pale face as she accepted the path of fate as unturning, knowing that it would never lead to the dawn.