“…there were four moons in the sky. The four daughters of the sun god, Azrakh. Red coloured Eranth; the blue Olynth, and Silann the white: fairest of them all. Valaren the black, favoured by her father adorned the sky by his side at day along with Eranth.  On midsummer each year, the sisters would come together and celebrate the birth of…”

                                                                        - Extract from the Igniz Ras’pell, A human epic, ~6000 B.C.

Shit! I winced as my umpteenth try failed. Smoke curled up from my fingers but no fireball erupted out of my fingertips. Not even a little spark? Heat? Anything?!

Again, I steeled myself as I tried to cast magic again. I stared at the open pages of the book on magic lent by grandma. I did ask her how I could do magic, but she simply said that she had never learnt it formally. She tried and tried and finally did it. 

I took a deep breath. A matter of feeling, she had said.

Aurora Particles, I recited the name of the mysterious, invisible particle the book said suffused Sangraal. It was everywhere. Theories were numerous about its origin, but no conclusive evidence was found for any of the theories. Whenever magic was used, Aurora particles would be utilized by the caster and transformed into magic. However, the aurora particles didn’t disappear but merely transmuted to what they called Exhausted Aurora Particles which constructed the magic itself.

Theorists proposed that the Exhausted Aurora or EA underwent a cyclical change to replenish the Aurora because otherwise they would be exhausted. Anyway, Humans used magic by absorbing the available Aurora in the environment and transmuting it into magic. What the book doesn’t tell you is that it’s bloody difficult to do.

Apparently, every species on this planet had an inbuilt magic circuit in their heart. They could use that to issue commands to the Aurora particle, or AP entering their body to transmute into the type of magic they wanted to cast.

I don’t know if I even have a Magic circuit. I mean I come from a different world. Did the gods even bother to put one in me?

That’s what I had thought until I  had tried to chant the magic. Nothing had happened at first few tries but my palm had grown hot. After hundreds of failed chants, here I was with some smoke puffing up my hands.

I sighed. “Fireball” I shouted, exasperated and desperate. "Flamethrower!" "Firespin!"

Nothing happened. Of course not. Just shouting anime attack names won't work.

“Rigel! Stop! What are you doing!” Arin yelled and ran towards me. She dropped all the herb she carried and she ran. He face was an ashen white.

What? What happened?

 Err…fireball mag..” I was cut off  mid-reply.

“That’s not what I am asking!" she yelped. Her breath came in ragged gasps as she steadied herself. "Why are you casting without a conduit?” she demanded while inspecting my hand. Her fingers ran over the scars and scratches accumulated from the training.

“Conduit?” I asked. Err...should've read the whole book...

“You asterhunkel, why didn’t you read properly?",  Arin hit my chest.  "The Aurora converts right after you let it go out of your body, so what do you think happens when you cast fire or other dangerous magic?"

Oh shit. I would get burned.

My mouth had hung open. Fuck! I could have lost my hand!

Arin guessed that I understood the implications so she just arched her eyebrows at me.

“Seriously, are you really 4 years older than me?” She chided. “Even kids know this”.

“How do I get a conduit?” I asked.

“For you…you have to buy it”, she said after thinking a while. “Lets go to the river while I treat your hand”. "Be more careful next time!" she didn't forget to chide.

"I will! I will!" I replied.

I followed Arin as she lead me to the river by hand. Now that I notice, my hands did sting a bit. The attempts had burnt off a thin slice of skin from my palm. 

Arin's fingers tightened on mine a bit. I couldn't see her face from behind. But I know, you...you're blushing.

Today being another of my rest days, I had come to collect herbs with Arin as usual. The small pouch on my belt jingled softly as we walked; the small amount of coins inside accumulated from the little compensation every week for becoming a village guard. Grandma was saying she ran out of eggs and Korvac-root. Probably can hit the market once before going home. My eyes fell on the frail hand pulling me forward. Maybe some sweets for her too? 

I mean, hosting a person wasn't cheap. But Grandma Wasslia...she pretty much got mad at me for trying to pay her some as compensation. So I usually bought groceries and stuff without telling her first and just gave it. Grandma Wasslia did object when I brought stuff home, but she was happy too.  She would kiss my head every time I did that, as if her own grandson had done something nice.

I was really lucky to meet her when I came here, wasn't I?

Arin and I sat on a boulder beside the stream. The stream gushed from under the hill;  its origin somewhere in the icy peaks of Ishkal mountains that guarded the village on three sides. For the villagers, this brook called Natril was an important source of fish and other resources. The Riversong shells trilling in Arin's hairs also originated in this rill.

Arin dipped my palm in the cool river water, washing away the soot and grime. Then she mashed up some herbs growing on the bank and applied on my hands. Her fingers lingered, as if reluctant to let go.

“Keep the herbs in the place with your hands. I am not to tear up my robe to make a poultice”  Arin instructed me.

“Yeah, yeah, princess” I replied jokingly. She looked at me with suspicion in her eyes at the princess.

“You don’t know how to compliment a lady properly, do you?” She retorted.

“If I see a lady, I will” I replied with a straight face.

“No lunch for you today”. she was incensed.

We sat on the bank, watching the river flow by. The chortle of the river mingled with the trill of Riversong shells in Arin’s hair. The girl and the river watched each other silently, as if an invisible conversation stretched between them.

What...what is she thinking? I pondered as I saw her eyes lowered at the tiny eddies that formed all over the gushing river. Why does she always become uncharacteristically quiet whenever we were here?. She would stare at the river without getting tired.

“You know, Rigel", she suddenly spoke as if she felt my eyes on her. "I feel like I can be at peace here. Beside the river”. Her voice trembled as she whispered, “after my parents…died, I had no one to talk to. The kids made fun of me; hated me while I kept crying all the time”

Oh. I did guess from Grandma Wasslia's words either...

Arin’s voice quavered with emotion, “ This is where I escaped to when I remembered my parents". She rubbed at her yes with the edges of her robe. "No could see me crying here. The River didn’t demand from  me to talk; it was happy to talk to me, flowing by me while I watched”

I could only manage to listen in silence. This was the first time she had spoken about her parents. This...Arin you...

“I talked to myself all the time to stave off the loneliness", tears glistened on her red cheeks. "But this river gave me peace".

Before I could do something, Arin wiped her tears and collected herself, “Sorry for saying all these". Her mouth broke into a sunny smile. "Rigel. I am glad I met you. You remind me of the river, always listening to my ramblings” she said with moist cheeks and glistening eyes.

My heart leapt to my chest. This...Arin...I...

Her eyes scanned mine. I...just...I averted my eyes, not knowing whatto do. Actually...

I stood up and walked away from her. I could feel her eyes following me. A few white flowers bloomed on in a stalk, a little away from us. I picked one and returned. It was the same flower that I had unintentionally given Arin on the first day. 

I crouched down beside her holding the white magnolia-like flower in my hand. She seemed to understand my intentions and tensed a bit. After just a moment, she seemed to relax and turned her head, a shy smile on her lips. I planted the flower on her black hair.

Arin shivered as my fingers brushed her skin. As my breath caressed her, goosebumps broke out on her exposed nape.

Here's your answer. and plopped down beside her, leaning on the boulder. Her hand crept over the grass and brushed with mine. 

So, the girl with the river in her hair and the boy who dreamt of death sat side by side, looking at the river. No words needed to be said. Because their conversation was one of silence. A silence of three parts, the boy, the girl and the trickling river.

I found out the problem about why I couldn't cast. I wasn't able to control and properly channel the Aurora particle inside my body yet. Well, not like it's something one learns fast anyway. Human mages in Sangraal took years, if not decades to learn magic. But wouldn't the Gift of Knowledge help me?

Grandma scolded me when she heard about my reckless attempts. A cold tide ran down my spine as she told me what uncontrolled AP could do.

"Rigel, it can sometimes invoke magic inside the body",  Grandma Wasslia stared at me straight. "causing the spellcaster to die". Her hands stalled their knitting, "Oh", she sat up straighter. "The King..." she bit her words back. "I know of a mage whose AP had run rampant inside his body while he was invoking the spell for fire. His whole right hand had carbonized from the inside. He lived, but..." she trailed off.

Fuck. "He lost his hand", I completed the words she had left unsaid

Grandma Wasslia nodded.  "Concentrate on AP channelling for now" she instructed. "And take Arin when you practice".

I nodded. 

"Oh, and", grandma Wasslia spoke with her eyes far into the distance, as if peering into some long forgotten memory. "Faith. Belief", she asserted. "The key to performing any magic is that we must believe that the world itself will bend to fulfil our intent. Groupings like Elemental Magic or Soul Magic are but names we made up. In the end..." she took a deep breath. "Aurora will return to Aurora, and thus magic will be wrought", she recited. 

"I only need to believe?" I asked incredulously.

Wasslia's smile was framed by fine lines as she spoke. "There is more to that. Much more. Like how you need to accurately calculate and define the limits of the executed magic so it doesn't fall apart", her eyes sparkled as she talked about magic.

She...she really likes magic huh? Come to think of it...she is oddly knowledgeable. Could it be...

Grandma Wasslia reined in her excitement. "But", her voice lost its earlier spark. "For now, for you, only believing is enough. The rest will come later". Her eyes searched something on my face. "I know what you think. I also did. Keeping faith is harder than you think".

"How did you do  it?" I blurted out.

She sighed. "A story for another time".

I continued studying magic while I improved my swordsmanship. I was finally green-lighted to go on subjugation and extermination quests with the village guard corps to suppress the monsters. It was a curious relationship the people had with the monsters; they were treated as a renewable resource at times. Some monsters were only subjugated for the materials they yielded and to keep their numbers down to a sustainable extent; some were to be completely eliminated. 

Monsters have become a component of the ecological as well as economical biosystem eh?

Gustaf divided 15 members into 3 groups of 5 each. We were going to suppress a mob of monsters known as Kivalas, a group of four-legged dog-like monsters. They had a reddish brown shaggy coat of fur and razor-sharp claws. What made them really dangerous was their tendency to roam in packs and call out for reinforcement when faced with danger. More than a few villagers had fallen prey to their vicious fangs. But ultimately, they were extremely common and rather weak monsters. 

Oh shit, I winced as Gustaf grouped the members. "Karro", he barked right after he called out my name.

What the fuck? Why?? What was he even expecting by putting me and Karro in the same group? Was he expecting rivals-turn-friends anime shit?

Karro glared at me.

Tough luck, Gustaf.

For today, we were given actual swords and weapons instead of the blunt training ones. Everyone was eager to earn some reputation for themselves. Being a guard meant fame, respect and the most important thing for young guys: female attention. And if you get kills to your name, there will be loads of that.

Hell, the boys were more worried about how to handle all the "night visits" they'd get from the girls than the Kivalas they were going to fight.

Are the monsters that weak, or these guys that stupid? I sighed. Well, this is our first mission. Probably the first.

The three groups walked at a brisk pace, separated from each other by some distance in an inverted arrowhead formation. We walked towards the Nurengraz forest, located on both sides of the road that leads to the next town, Haven. The Kivala population had exploded after their breeding season so it was time for some culling. While the more experienced guards handled most of the work, we were here to get our first taste of what they faced.

Even the excited chatter of the boys fell silent as we stalked through the forest. An eerie hush enveloped us; broken only by stray clinks of weapons and armour.

Suddenly Gustaf put up his hands in a fist, signalling us to stop. The group halted at once, excitement and fear etched onto their faces.

He conveyed by the hand signals that were drilled into us every day that he had detected some enemies. Metal clanged softly as everyone readied their weapons. I unsheathed my sword and unhitched the unadorned shield made of thick wood covered with leather. It was okay with fangs but bad at blocking metal weapons.

This is it, a shiver ran down my spine. Calm, Rigel. Steady. My fists shook a little.

Karro looked over, a sneer sculpted on his face. His lips moved as formed the Eruvahn word for "coward" silently.

You little shi--

Howls reverberated through the trees.

The underbrush rustled.

Gustaf splayed his fingers. At least five Kivalas.

Sweat trickled down my temple, as I tightened the grip on my sword.

The silence in the forest was deafening. And then, all at once the Kivalas exploded into view, leaping up from the thick bushes. 

This is it.

Unauthorized duplication: this narrative has been taken without consent. Report sightings.

Gustaf barked orders and the inverted arrowhead expanded its wings, allowing the Kivalas to run inside the middle of the V. Though they were pack animals, they did not have much intelligence to gauge the trap. The men surrounded the Kivalas and bore down on them with their weapons.

Our group of five had taken the left flank. Two Kivalas bore down on us, snapping at the vanguards' me and Shayn. We two used shields, so we took the brunt of the attack; the Kivalas slammed against our raised shields.

These dogs are fucking strong! Their weight threatened to topple us. Our feet dug deeper into the wet, dark forest-soil.

Faster, you idiots! I cursed at the ones in charge of attacking the Kivalas.

The monsters snapped their jaws; their razor claws tried to break the shield. The monsters tried to jump over the shields by climbing it, their claws leaving deep furrows.

Karro and Grant thrust at them with spears to disrupt the Kivalas. Karro’s spear went through the right flank of one of the monsters. Warm blood splashed down on my face and hands.

Fuck! I winced as the warm, almost scalding hot blood spattered my skin.

The wounded Kivala howled; its ferocity increased to manic levels. Illya was trying to poke out the eye of the other Kivala by his sword. The monster easily dodged it and jumped up at him, using Shayn’s shield as a springboard.

My blood ran cold. Shayn screamed.

“Karro!” I shouted. He looked at me and understood my intention in a flash.

“Crazy fucker”, He mumbled, “Go”. I slammed my shield up at the chin of the Kivala that was trying to climb over the shield to get to us. The Kivala made an odd sound as blood and spittle went flying out of its maw as the shield bash dislocated its jaw.

Don't die! I scrambled frantically to help Shayn, while Karro held off the jaw-broken Kivala.

The Kivala fed on Illya’s hand while he screamed. His eyes had gone white as he howled with all his might. The Kivala just continued to chomp on his arm, as sounds of bones being crunched emanated from it. Illya hadn’t been able to block the Kivala when it had come too close to the effective range of the sword. The Kivala had simply slammed the sword aside and clamped its jaws on Illya.

I slammed into the Kivala’s flank with my shield. The monster went flying and crashed against a tree trunk.

Take that! I whooped internally.

I walked over Shayn, setting up a defensive posture in front of him. The Kivala jumped at me using the tree trunk for leverage. the Kivala slammed against my shield with all its weight.

Too heavy! I grunted. Shit. I need to...

"Die!" I growled as I pierced the Kivala flank. The blade sunk with a wet squelch

The monster let out an enraged howl and jerked violently.

The sword went flying away, drawing a blood arc in the air.

Shit. My weapon! My hands went numb as the Kivala kept banging on the shield.

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.

The Kivala, enraged beyond measure, bit at the wooden shield. Its sharp fangs pierced the wood and…stopped midway. The Kivala had snagged its teeth on the wooden shield. I held the shield with all my might as the monster shook it violently, trying to dislodge it, while I  took out the hunting knife Grandma-Wasslia had gifted me.

Goddamit, where are the others!

I slammed the knife into the Kivala’s eye and held it there, screwing it in until it reached the brain. scalding hot blood spurted out of the wound and splashed my face again. As I breathed, the air carried with it the salty stench of copper.

“Fuck you” I shouted as the Kivala spasmed its last breaths. A strange pall had come over me as I felt intense bloodlust within myself. It didn’t have anything to do with revenge or defence. I wanted my enemy dead as I bathed in its blood, simple as that. I wanted to dominate, to have their fates in my hand. My body trembled and I took a deep breath.

Yes, I breathed in the aroma of blood and steel. Yes. Barely contained excitement surged through my veins. Now!

I charged.

While I rushed past, I noticed that Karro and the others had finished their Kivalas. I jumped into the fray at the other flank of the formation. Only one Kivala left, huh?

The first-time guards took steps back as the lone Kivala growled. The assortments of blood-matted weapons on the ground around it was a testament to its monstrous tenacity

Fucking idiots. I cursed at the incompetent bunch that had let the battle go on so long. But... I could feel an eerie laughter bubbling up my throat. Now you're all mine, I revelled as I stared down the golden red eyes of the wounded Kivala.

The monster's mane stood on its ends. It yelped like a common dog as it stared into my eyes.

Scared, huh?

The Kivala bucked and tried to run away.

No, you don't!

I jumped down in front of it and slammed my shield on its skull. I kept slamming and slamming till it had deformed, grey matter oozing out of its ears.

Die. Die. Die!

A warm hand on my shoulder brought me to my senses. "Rigel", Gustaf called out. "Stop. This battle is done". 

Huh? I stared at my gore-soaked hands. Yeah, I gulped. What was I even doing?

I looked around to find myself surrounded by eyes coloured with varied emotions. Some stares glowed with a macabre admiration at the carnage I had wrought; other eyes shook afraid of my bloody visage.

What...why did I...

Gustaf punched me on the gut.

“What the” I managed to groan as I keeled over.  What the fuck is he doing?

“Your own safety takes priority first…I believe I told you that” His face was like black thunderclouds as he reprimanded. His voice shook with rage, “Also, you lost to bloodlust. You will die if you fail to discipline yourself in battle”. He snapped his fingers loudly at the gawking crows. "What are ye hoodlums doin!", his country twang peeped through his otherwise polished Eruvahn taught at proper Knight schools. "Git on with yer jobs, you Kivalas, Go!"

“Sorry” I managed to croak. Fuck. Really, what was I doing? It felt so good…killing them.

Gustaf looked down at me. His eyes searched mine as it gradually softened. He kneeled beside me and ruffled my hair, “Thank you for protecting  Illya. Because of you, he will live”.

We stayed there for a few hours more cleaning up the Kivala bodies and treating Illya’s wounds. The more experienced guards dismantled the monster’s corpses, stripping it of usable materials like claws, fangs and fur. However, what was really valuable was the Core.

The core was a rough crystal found at the centre of the monster’s heart. It was said that this was the magic circuit of the monsters. It grew throughout its life, absorbing and storing AP like a battery. Unless a monster died of unnatural causes, the Core slowly grew while crystallizing the heart and ultimately killed the monster when the heart totally converted to a Core.

“Thanks for having my back” I confessed to Karro honestly. Maybe He isn't as pig-headed as I thought?

“Yeah, you too” He replied while he marvelled at the light-green core of a Kivala. "Thanks for...Illya", he mumbled.

Too proud eh? I chuckled. But at least it reduced some of the animosity he had towards me. Wait, I halted as I thought something. Is this the suspension bridge effect where a mutual danger brings people close?! I don't want one with a guy! 

"Oi", Gustaf's shout broke my chain of thought. He chucked something at me.

Oh, the core! I held the small, green crystal, tapered into fine points at both ends. Its rough, cylindrical body was strangely translucent as it refracted the sunlight into patterns of green.

In the end...I looked at one of the eviscerated Kivala's remains, all its life, its struggles, everything it was is this tiny crystal in my hand. All it had been was now just a reward given to me for saving Illya.

Maybe, a sobering thought made me sigh. We are but Kivalas to the gods, they kill us for their sport.

I saw something move from the corner of my eye. Gustaf motioned me to hold out my hand. He dropped a still bloody chunk of green crystal on my palm. 

“Take it. It's from the other one you killed”, he wiped his hand on his pants.

“But other also participated in it. I just finished it off” I said. The crystal, still to lose the warmth of the monster's heart felt unreasonably heavy in my hands. Do...Do I have to keep killing in this world? A chill ran down my spine. Not like I hated killing. I... I realised what I was afraid of more, that I liked the act of killing.

“It’s alright", Gustaf nodded. "Everyone wants you to have it as a reward for your good performance” He replied while smiling, “If I were you I'd pocket it without much thought. After all, you need to grow too”.

Apparently, there were many uses for the Cores. One can go to a Church or a Soulcaster to fuse the Cores to one’s own being, making them powerful. However this process often resulted in failures and severe backlashes, so it wasn’t popular. Most people went to an Enchanter Blacksmith to fuse the Cores to their equipment, making it stronger.  There was always the option of selling them for money too. Lots of magical equipment and tools needed Cores to function.

When I asked Gustaf if I could fuse them to my weapon, he said that the village couldn’t do it. I needed to head over to the nearest town, Haven, for the process. I was told to wait after the Midsummer Festival when some people from the guard corps would go to repair and resupply the corps. Pretty much every guard in possession of cores would wait till a group of them could go together. Bandits weren't exactly in short supply in these mountains.

One more thing that I had noticed was when I killed a monster, I could feel some invisible wave flow into me. I don’t know what it was, but I asked others and they said they didn’t receive anything of the sort. This was probably a hallucination brought on by the excitement of the bloodlust. Probably.

After that day, we went on Kivala subjugation quests regularly. In the course of that, Karro and I had become fast friends, spending a lot of time together. In midst of a hastily taken meal, or lighting a campfire, we had grown close. Facing death does that to people. He would often ask about my hometown. Of course, I lied. But mixed half-truths in them as well. We both sighed in memory of my hometown, for him it was a call of adventure; for me, homesickness.

I knew he was jealous of how close how Arin and I was, he never let that come between our friendship. Each time he averted his glance as Arin came to see me off was...painful. On one hand, someone who had my back and fought together as brothers. On the other hand...Arin.

I know I have to choose someday. I pretended not to notice how Karro threw looks of envy as Arin fixed my belt-buckles. Goddammit, Arin you don't need to do it! I know you are trying to piss Karro off!

Despite all that, Karro never held it against me. He even tried to teach me his magic technique of coating his blade with fire. But, my AP channelling was too unrefined for it to work.

It had been almost a year since I had come to this world. I now knew some swordsmanship and very little magic. I had saved up a little from the quests, with 21 Cores to my name. I planned to kill the fucking gods of this world, but for that I needed power. I didn’t know it then, but power came at a price. And by the gods, the prices were heavy.

Ouch, ouch! I winced as I trudged towards home. Home huh? I thought of the cosy house I shared with Grandma and Arin. I wonder...who did Mariah rent my apartment to? At first, I used to think of my little apartment often. But now...home meant that crooked little path worn by feet that lead to Arin. I looked up at the alien sky with its two moons and the dark ring that bifurcated the evening sky. Not that alien anymore, huh?

Somewhere, near the forest we had just been,  Kivalas were howling.  23rd subjugation quests already, I clutched at the cores from today's battle. It...never really gets easy, killing them. The Kivala pack howled again, their yelps a strange sobbing cry that bounded through the mountain forests. Maybe they too feel pain when we kill their families? 

As I turned the last bend on the mud road, I saw Arin and grandma waiting on the porch. Visible relief spread across their faces as I waved at them, too tired to speak.

News travels fast in a small village, I guess. A couple of people had been gravely injured this time. I could see dried tears on Arin’s cheeks as I walked up the porch stairs. She ran up to me and hugged me as she repeatedly said something incomprehensible in midst f her sobbing.

"I'm here, Arin", I consoled her. "I'm alright".

I sat with Arin on the steps of the patio. Like always, those bottled lights shone and spilt their soft bluish light across the garden. I chatted with Arin about all things that mattered and things that did not. We did this often. Grandma Wasslia had given up trying to tell us off for staying up late.

“I am dying to the eat the surmar tomorrow” Arin was saying with a glazed look in her eyes.

“Is that so”, I crouched near the flowers with the colour of fire, growing near the patio. Yeah, the festival's tomorrow isn't it?

These flowers were called Vertes, or the stealer of emotions. They glowed like fire at night, taking in the AP and diffusing them in form of light. At any rate, they were breathtaking. Like little balls of fire, pulsating and living. The most astonishing part about the flowers was that it could change the colour of its glow depending on the emotions of the person nearby. For this, it was used in trials and torture to verify the truth.

Even flowers in this world are dangerous.

“Don’t even think of that”, Arin was stern. “Do not be the kind of man who gives a girl flowers from her own garden”. 

Truly, even flowers in this world are dangerous.

The Vertes glowed a bright orange. The colour of affection. I wonder, is it mine or Arin's?

Later that night, I felt someone enter my room. I opened my eyes carefully and saw Arin tip toeing beside my bed and promptly slamming her hands on my mouth so that I couldn’t shout.

What the…

She motioned me to shush by putting her finger on her lips.

I sat up on my bed slowly, and in a dry voice whispered, “Arin...if Grandma Wasslia finds out...”

“I am not here to...” she blushed. "You know!"

“Alright, Alright. So what do you want?”

“Come with me. I need to pick some Lorras flowers for tomorrow and you don’t want a dainty maiden alone out at night, do you?” She explained.

“Sure. Where is the dainty maiden I need to guard?” I retorted. This girl! won't even let me sleep at night!

“Keep that up, and no girls will dance with you at the festival”.

Tomorrow was the Summermoon Festival, a night when all 3 moons were in the sky. The villagers would have a huge fire and dance around it. People would cook food in that fire and sing and dance. It was the biggest festival in these parts of the frontier,  so everyone was looking forward to it.

Arin picked the small white Lorras blossoms that grew only at night and withered at dawn. I could guess why she wanted those. They were used to make perfumes. Wait, is this because I told her I liked the smell?! Shit. Truth was, I didn't. I just didn't have the heart to say that as she asked me how her perfume making skills were.

She collected the flowers, while I just looked up at the sky. The constellations were unfamiliar. Even the stars were different. Sometimes, just sometimes... I missed the familiar constellations back on earth. "That's Cygnus, That's Lyra", my father would sometimes teach me the stars during happier times. "And that's Orion, the hunter. The bright star in there? that bright one? That's Rigel, where you got your name". I smiled at the distant memory. There's no Orion here. But still... my eyes traced Arin's svelte figure as she stepped delicately on the hill-side. It's my sky now, isn't it?

“Come with me", Arin beckoned. "I want to show you something”. I followed as she ran through the grassy hill awash with the light from two moons. Through the shadows and shifting darkness of the sky ring, Arin’s white tunic flashed in and out of view like some spectre intent on not getting caught.

We came upon the gurgling river at a sort of a guarded bank. Boulders separated that part of the bank from view. Tall trees ringed the little clearing while the white magnolia-like flowers bloomed in a magnificent carpet all along the bank.

Aren't these the same flowers I once put in Arin's hair?

Arin and I sat on the bank, while she kept looking at the flowing river in the moonlight. Shadow and light played hide and seek on the surface. We were silent. The river always made us silent.

Arin suddenly spoke up and said, “Rigel, do you know the story behind how rivers came to be?”

“No, I don’t,” I said honestly.

“Once upon a time, there was an Elven maid, the fairest among all. Her name was Sylvanna. She fell in love with the son of a commoner, Rashel", Arin picked up a pebble as she spoke. "They loved each other like the earth loves the sky. But their love...was not to be. Sylvanna was the princess of the Elf kingdom. The king confined her in a tower, devoid of light. Rashel was exiled to the far-off seas, where he rowed the ship as a galley slave". She skipped the stone on the rushing river...at least, tried to. The stone sank with an audible plop.

She puckered her face at her failed attempt. "A year went by, Sylvanna pined for her love, in the tower of darkness, alone. At last, she wasn’t able to endure anymore and tried to plunge a dagger to her heart. She was stopped by the Elven goddess of love. She appeared before Sylvanna, drawn by her passion for her lover. The Elven goddess asked if she wanted to be with Rashel, leaving everything she was and would be. Sylvanna consented without a second thought. The goddess changed Sylvanna into water and made her flow from the tower. The Sylvanna that was now a river charged through the mountains, the forests and the plains, finally plunging into the seas where her beloved Rashel toiled. When the river had plunged into the seas, Rashel knew that his Sylvanna was no more. Out of grief, he plunged into the seas, ending his life. The sea and the river met, joining each other for eternity. That is how, the first river came to be” Arin spoke while looking at some faraway place.

“That is a sad story, Arin” I replied. Fairy tales in this world were sadder than they had any right to be.

“Yes. But not for Rashel and Sylvanna” Arin smiled, “I too want to reach the seas, where my parents are”.

Aren't they dead? Once again, I didn’t know how to comfort Arin. I just looked at the girl made of condensed moonlight. There was only one thing I could do, for now.

I picked one of the white magnolia looking flowers and presented it to her. 

It was as if someone electrified Arin. She shook like a cold blizzard had blown over her. She asked me with watery eyes, “Do you know what these flowers are called?”

“No, I don’t” What the…what’s happening?

“These are Sillanerna”, she said holding it in her hands, “The spawn of Sillann”.

Arin once again faced the river, however this time she had a smile on her lips. Her cheeks were dyed deep red, and her face downcast, her black locks hiding her face as if to avoid the gaze of the trespassing moon.

 God...this woman is beautiful. "If you go to join the seas, what will I do?" I had managed to croak. Arin's face lit up with the colours of the moon. She nodded, her motion mirroring the exuberant dance of the Sillanernas as wind blew through them.

Distant howls ripped through the mountain forests. That pack of Kivalas again? Their cries rolled around the mountainside and hung in the balmy summer air like a heavy question.

Why. The bestial cries seemed to ask. Why.

Why indeed. I looked at Arin as each cry made her shiver. Did that Kivala too have someone it wanted to protect desperately?