I spend the rest of the day with Llywelyn, doing his duties, and then doing some of my own. I help feed the bird, and clean some of the rooms. It's... not as bad as I thought. It's actually kind of relaxing. Mindless, but in a good way.
Llywelyn doesn't talk much, but he's not rude, either. He just... seems distracted. Preoccupied. I wonder what's on his mind.
But I don't ask. I know he won't tell me.
I do take a break at some point, and go back to my room. I need to get ready for tonight, whatever that means. I don't know what to wear, or what to expect, so I just... pick something simple. A white dress, and sandals. I look at myself in the mirror, and I feel... strange. I don't look like myself.
The woman that is looking at me shouldn't be me. Her hair is soft and long, her form is leaner than I've ever been. And she's too old. Not the seventeen year old girl I was when I was taken. It's just... such a disconnect to the person I am inside. I don't...
Feel like I've aged.
My life is on pause. Waiting for me to go back there, to decide whether to shirk homework or not, to pick what to do for my last Summer vacation. To walk into the house and be scolded for being out so late.
So why - what makes it fair that my body still ages?
I shake my head, and push those thoughts away. I don't have time for them right now. I'll deal with them later. Or never.
I leave my room, and walk down the hall. I can hear some music playing, somewhere, and I follow it. It leads me outside, to the garden.
The garden is... different tonight. There are lanterns hanging from the trees, and there are people milling about, talking, laughing. There's a table set up, with food and drinks, and there's a small band playing. It's... a party. A celebration. Which I distinctly remember Xilukulkas saying it was not.
But maybe... that big dance just won't happen. But this is still something.
I see Xilukulkas, standing near the table, talking to someone. He's wearing a golden robe, and his hair is down, flowing over his shoulders. He looks... stunning. Breathtaking. He's like a king, or a god, or something out of a myth.
I also see Llywelyn, sitting on a bench, under a tree. He's wearing a simple blue shirt and black pants, and his hair is tied back. He's holding a glass of something, and he's staring at the sky. There's a scowl on his face, and his collar is glowing a faint violet. I wonder why.
I walk over to him, and sit down next to him. "Hey." I say, softly.
He glances at me, and his eyes widen. He looks me up and down, and his collar brightens, to a hot pink. "You. You look..." He trails off, and then looks away, taking a sip of his drink. "Nevermind."
He nods upward. "Don't gawk at me, human. You'll miss the lightshow."
I. Was never gawking. In the first place. But whatever.
I turn my gaze to the sky, and I see what he means.
The nebula is here.
It's... unlike anything I've ever seen. It's a vast, swirling cloud of colors, of lights, of shapes. There are streaks of pink, and purple, and blue, and green, and yellow, and orange. There are sparks of white, and gold, and silver. It's like some kind of chaotic impressionist fever painting, but it's in motion. Not just a little. It's more layer than I can distinguish, and all of them are moving at different paces.
It's... alive.
And in the middle of it all, there are the stars. The new ones. The ones that are being born. It's hard to describe. I've never had much understanding of how stars are made, because I never cared to. So I've never imagined it. And it is nothing like my imagination would have thought.
They're... swirling. Tiny little balls of light that swirl and dance and spin and grow. They're like... fireflies, but bigger. Brighter. More powerful. They're... beautiful.
I can't help but gasp, and lean forward, as if I could get closer. As if I could touch them. As if I could be part of them.
A blue hand appears in my vision, unbidden, and points to my left. "Over there, if you're curious. Looks like one's about to be formed." Llywelyn mutters.
I look where he's pointing, and I see it. A cluster of colors, spinning faster and faster, tighter and tighter, until it... it explodes.
It's not a violent explosion, but a gentle one. A burst of light, and then... a star. It's tiny, brilliantly bright, and silent. And there's more. One after another, the clouds of gas and dust give birth to new stars, and they join the others. It reminds me of fireworks. but those are harsh and loud and smoky. These are... quiet. Soft. Serene.
It's... amazing.
I look at Llywelyn, and he's still watching the sky. His expression is... soft. Wistful. A little sad. His collar is now a faint, pulsing blue. His fingers twitch slightly, as if he wants to reach out, but he doesn't.
The colors of the nebula reflect faintly against his skin. If I look hard, I can see the dancing lights in his eyes.
"What do you think?" I ask him, my voice quiet.
He glances over at me. For a moment, his golden eyes flicker across my face and body, and then his glowing veins flare brightly briefly and he turns his face. "It's..." He sighs. "It's... not unpleasant."
That's... a surprising answer. I expected him to say something like 'it's just some gas and dust' or 'it's nothing special' or 'why would I care'. But he doesn't. Maybe even a grumpy fishman has to admit beauty like this.
As my gaze turns up toward the sky again, I hear a cheerful voice. "Your dress is reflecting all the colors of the nebula, Sarah!"
I look over, and see Mira walking towards us, holding two glasses of something bubbly and pink. She's shimmering and sparkling green, as always. Just as with the asteroid shower, it's as if the sky itself has merged inside of her, like she's holding stars within herself. If she weren't so nice I'd probably be intensely envious of how gorgeous she looks right now. "Hi, Mira." I say, smiling.
"Hello." She says, and hands me one of the glasses. "This is for you. It's a special drink, made only for this time. It's supposed to represent the nebula." She giggles. "I don't know how, but it's yummy."
I take the glass, and sniff it. It smells like... something sweet. Something floral. I take a sip, and it tastes like... honey, and citrus, and something else. It's... delicious.
"Your dress~!" She says again, and points at it. "It's so pretty! It's like you're wearing the sky!"
I look down at myself, and see what she means. The dress is white - or, it should be. But it seems the strong colors of the nebula are reflecting off of it, causing it to glow with the same pastel and glittering lights. Like the cloth is made of the same stuff as the nebula itself.
I look back at the sky, and then at the dress. It's... kind of cool. I mean, I didn't pick it for that, but... I like it.
"Thank you, Mira." I say, and she beams at me.
"You're welcome! Oh, and look!" She points at Llywelyn. "You like it too, right Llywelyn?"
I glance over toward the man just in time to see him sharply look away from me, ears flickering and chest pulsing with light. "I hadn't noticed until you pointed it out. That's all." He huffs.
Mira giggles, and sits down next to me. "You're so funny, Llywelyn. You should compliment her more."
"S'nilian wo'-! Why would I do something like that you ridiculous rockbrain-!" He splutters, his veins going brilliant pink.
"She's very pretty!"
"Then you say it! Why are you putting words in my mouth!"
"Because you need the practice!"
Llywelyn snarls and stands up, grabbing his drink. "I've had enough of this. I'm going to go find the bath-"
"Wait!" I grab his sleeve, and he freezes. His collar turns purple, and he looks at me, his eyes wide. "I mean... don't go. Stay. With us."
I...
I'm not really sure why I ask.
It's just that for... whatever this place is, however long I'll be here... Llywelyn and Mira feel like the only... familiar things. Maybe... friends. I. Don't know but...
His ears flutter, and then he sighs. "Fine. I'll stay. But you have to promise to shut her up."
"I don't make promises I can't keep." I retort, smiling at him.
He glares at me for a tense moment, but lets out another breath and settles back against the tree with a long suffering sigh. "She's always impossible." He grumbles.
I offer him a sympathetic smile. It's not like I don't know. Mira just... tends to target him more than me.
"Thank you."
His chest flares and he grumbles in irritation, shoving his face into his drink. "Look at the fis'ia nebula." He mutters.
I suppress the laugh that wants to bubble up and do as he says, turning back to the sky.
Mira leans against my shoulder, and I can feel her warmth. She's heavy. Hard. And I'd imagine that she'd be cold, but... she's not. She's so warm, as if she's full of more life than anyone else here.
"I'm glad you came, Sarah." She whispers, her voice soft. "I'm happy I get to watch the nebula with my friends."
"Don't know why that's plural." Llywelyn snaps. "I'm not your-"
"Shh!" She shushes him, and he shuts up, grumbling. "You are my friend, Llywelyn."
"Under extreme objection, without my consent. S'nilian wo'..." He trails off into a string of words I can't understand.
I shake my head, and take another sip of my drink. It's... nice. This is nice. I'm... happy. Content. Peaceful. And for once... that doesn't scare me.
I can't...
Imagine that will last.
But it is nice while it does.