Sisters Since Winter

Dance! I will follow, even when I cannot find you.

* * * * * * * *

Because Sephria preferred to sit on the floor, Eulylia had gathered all the pillows she could find in their home and piled them up into a comfortable and cozy fashion for the two of them tonight. Other than the boiling water above the fire and the occasional sound Eulylia made in the kitchen, it was quiet.

Moments like these always made the mind wander. Even though it had gotten easier through the years with Eulylia beside Sephria, Mother’s Morning was always especially hard. For the both of them. The nonstop rain never failed to remind Sephria of the rainy winter day Eulylia found her, back when she had been lost, without a home, without a name.

But always, there was hope. After the darkness that felt to endure forever, the light always returned with a loving warmth to start another year. Another cycle. Three days of darkness followed by three days of wondrous celebration of peace and life in Essensia.

“Seph,” Eulylia sang.

Sephria paused—listened—to Eulylia’s feet walk across the wooden floorboards for a lingering second. They made soft thumps in tender rhythms, like a newborn song, improvised, all the way to their pile of pillows where Sephria sat. Eulylia took Sephria’s hand in hers and carefully handed her a hot cup of tea, making sure Sephria had a good hold with both hands before letting go.

“Are you cold? Should I bring another layer for you?”

Sephria shook her head. “We already have three, here.”

“Perhaps later, then,” Eulylia said, and tucked herself beneath the sheets as well.

“Are we ready?”

“Yes,” Eulylia nodded. She looked around one more time, however, just to double-check. Even though Sephria couldn’t see, Eulylia had lit up two candles in every room, with a stack of replacement candles beside each one. “We should be able to find everything we need for the next three days.”

Sephria blew on her tea before taking a careful sip.

The two of them said nothing beside each other for quite a long time. Each had been occupied with their own thoughts for the majority of a summer’s hour. Eulylia had watched the overcast sky grow thicker and thicker, until nothing could get past them and everything their candlelights couldn’t touch became the shade of darkness that reminded even the sanest of the void. And soon after that, a soft drizzle made way for the pounding storm.

“Seph, dear, you have been quiet for quite a while.” Eulylia looked down at Sephria’s cup. “Would you like more tea?”

“You have been quiet as well,” Sephria answered. Her thumb rubbed against the side of the cup, feeling the paint melted and hardened onto burned clay. The surface gave away that it was a blue-hued color upon porcelain.

She rubbed across once more. Green-tinted. A kind of teal. Like how her eyes once were.

Sephria sighed, again, to purposefully break the silence Eulylia seemed to be stubborn in keeping. “I stand by what I said.”

Eulylia tried to smile. “How do you manage to always find it out.” Those words came out a whisper, a soft hum. The average human ear wouldn’t be able to hear it against the summer’s rain, but Sephria heard it, crisp and clear.

“There’s no guarantee that Iago isn’t staying with another girl.”

“Perhaps that would be exactly why I decided against inviting him to spend these days with us.”

A pause.

“Besides, he has always been one to ebb and flow through my mind. We had decided seasons ago that we were not meant to be.”

Well, the two of you certainly don’t act like it, Sephria thought. “Iago’s a Kylmis, but you can trust him, Lyly. He’s in Aideyll.”

“My dear Seph,” Eulylia sang. “Being in Aideyll does not keep a man from destroying a woman’s heart.”

Sephria said nothing to that.

It was only two months ago that she had finally spoken to Iago alone for the first time, even though the three of them had known each other for about a year by then. Eulylia had gotten severely injured during one of their combat sessions in the morning and was immediately flown to the Academy Hospital. Prior to that, Iago had only spoken to Sephria with Eulylia present in the conversations, too, and most of it had been in jest.

The tale has been illicitly lifted; should you spot it on Amazon, report the violation.

However, on that day, Iago had rushed Sephria with him to the hospital, neither of them leaving Eulylia’s side until she returned to consciousness and was given the okay to leave her bed.

Maybe I love her because her courage is the most beautiful one I’ve found.

The more Iago explained himself that day in frantic anticipation, waiting for Eulylia to open her eyes once again, the more Sephria wanted to believe that, for their dearest Lyly, his words were true.

Or maybe I love her because then, it would be as the world intended.

But even so, once Eulylia woke up, nothing had changed. The two of them continued to dance about each other, both with feelings they would never vocalize, pulling apart at every opportunity to grow close, like magnets of the same polarity.

Outside, the rain fell heavier and heavier, thousands of droplets punching down puddles at every moment.

“Here, let me bring you some more tea.” Eulylia took the cup from Sephria and stood up from the pillows. Sephria felt a gentle breeze where Eulylia had stood up, lifting the blankets to let a bit of chill enter, a bit of their warmth escape. She listened to Eulylia step away to the kitchen, listened to Eulylia pour some more tea into her cup before setting the teapot back down, and waited for the sound of Eulylia’s footsteps to bring her back. She had stood for a moment, as if in careful pause, before returning.

Sephria knew who was on her mind, then. Perhaps it is better that Iago stay away from Lyly. Only the Ashenborn would know who’s on Iago’s mind right now.

He was a Kylmis, after all. Even if he could be trusted—already a rare characteristic of one from the clan—it was not as if Eulylia would have a future with him.

“Enough of this,” Eulylia whispered when she sat back down beside her. “These three days are for reflection of our history and our world. We should focus on such.”

Our history. Sephria nodded nevertheless and reached a hand out in search of Eulylia. When she felt Eulylia’s shoulder in her fingertips, she leaned in and held Eulylia’s arm tightly.

For Eulylia, Sephria would follow her anywhere, on either side of the Edge.

“Do not fret about your family,” Eulylia whispered into her hair. She had felt the tremble in Sephria’s touch. “You are safe, now. I had meant of Aideyll’s history, not of our own.”

Sephria nodded, rubbing her hair against Eulylia’s collar. She felt Eulylia’s soft lips kiss her forehead to soothe her worries. The same way those lips had kissed her forehead when Eulylia found her, in the dark of the rain.

“And what of you and your old home?” Sephria asked.

She felt Eulylia’s chest rise and fall with her sigh. “There is not a particular ‘what’ in regards to that,” she hummed, voice soft. “One day, I may miss what I recall of the Deadly Karsts, but such musings have not surfaced, yet.”

“… you belong here, Lyly,” Sephria whispered back. Nothing had changed since their decision to move to Essensia together, two years ago. With Eulylia being unable to return home and Sephria with no home to return to, the two of them made a new home, here.

For some reason, Eulylia had found it difficult to belong in this city made for everyone. She never said it directly, but Sephria heard it in her voice and felt it through her actions throughout the years.

Let us keep to ourselves for the time being, until we are right with the ways of those who live here.

Yes, but things are different here, in Essensia…

We attract enough attention as we are, my dear Seph. There is no need for more.

Perhaps that was how life was for a Desireen. The Deadly Karsts were the newest province to join the Provinces of Aideyll, just thirty years ago. Eulylia, herself, had never eaten a human before, but there were many of the older sirens who had, and the fear of sirens joining Aideyll had persisted throughout the decades. Despite the Ashenborn clearly deciding it was safe for the land to do so.

“Lyly?”

“Yes, dear?”

“Could you sing for me?”

Eulylia’s smile was soft for her. Other than Iago, Sephria was one other who was never afraid of her voice.

“Of course,” she whispered. She stood up from beneath the sheets once again and stepped onto the wooden floorboards. “What would you like to feel, today?”

Sephria curled up and hugged her legs beneath the sheets. “Blissfully forgetful,” she answered with a soft chuckle.

“I promise to take care of you.”

“I know,” Sephria sang back.

It took Sephria years to train her ears to be able to tell whether Eulylia was singing with her human voice or casting her siren’s talent in her song. Soon after Eulylia began singing, Sephria felt her mood lift. She no longer thought of how she had lost her family, how she had been left alone without a name or identity until Eulylia found her and named her that fateful day. The sound of the rain didn’t cast fear and loneliness in her heart anymore—rather, the pitter-patter drummed a kind of peace through the air. It was chaotic outside, but the rhythm matched Eulylia’s song, matched Eulylia’s step as she started her dance upon the wooden floors. Her gentle taps as she twirled before Sephria matched the storm outside in a slower, but equal, ferocity.

And her voice. It was strong and full and took over all of the room they resided, overcoming even the darkness outside, all of Sephria’s senses entranced by Eulylia’s melody in a language she didn’t even understand. All she knew was that she wanted to get up and dance with her. And so she did.

She didn’t need to see, only needed to hear where Eulylia stepped and match hers in the opposite direction. When Eulylia took her hand, she twirled, and when Eulylia let her go, she turned and continued dancing, stepping with her opposite foot each time, following all of Eulylia’s lows and highs with the placement of her own body.

They danced and they danced until Sephria was out of breath and plopped onto the pillows again, laughing between heavy pants. Even though Eulylia had been singing and dancing with her the entire time, her breath was still calm and controlled, eased by the pathways gifted in a siren’s lungs.

Hours into the middle of the night, they talked and talked and talked until Sephria finally fell asleep to the sound of Eulylia’s voice singing a bedtime story from her childhood memories. And then, Eulylia made sure Sephria was tucked in nice and warm, made sure that the cup half-filled with tea was placed far enough to not be kicked over as they slept, and then made sure her own self was nicely tucked under the sheets beside her dearest friend before trying to fall asleep on her own.