Chapter 60 #2
I leaned against a tree near the lake, its low branches hung with lanterns that cast a warm glow around me.
Alone, I let my heart settle back to its normal rhythm.
The shadows danced happily through my hair and tickled my neck, as if trying to calm me.
For a while, I reflected on everything Serguei had told me about my mother and about Zion.
That kind of conversation left a heavy feeling, making me question what I could do for Serguei.
That night I had felt his loneliness and remembered a slave abandoned to her fate in a cellar.
The feeling was somehow the same: the weight of abandonment, of surviving when everyone we loved was gone, and even while shattered, continuing to move forward against all odds.
I wiped away a tear that escaped, and in that moment, I promised myself I would never let him feel so lonely again.
I kept making plans for the future—how I would persuade him to come to events with me and Zion after the physical test. But I didn't get far in my scheming, because in less than twenty minutes I felt the shadows' vibrant presence being pulled to a point behind me, and then Zion appeared at my side.
“Why are you here alone? Weren't we going to dance the presentation waltz?” He took my hands in his.
“I think my socializing quota is used up for tonight,” I grumbled, burying my face in his chest. He hugged me, wrapping me completely in his arms.
“All right, but at least let's stay to see the aurora borealis arrive. I want you to watch it with me.”
“Yes, I'm looking forward to it.”
He transported us to the edge of the lake, and soon the first chime of the bell announced that the Lúmiran was seconds away. Some children ran past us with glass cups in their hands, searching for puddles near the lake.
“Does this tradition still exist?” I asked, watching the little ones’ excitement and curiosity.
“Yes, and it always will, as long as the yonsais make their passage.”
Yonsais, or water spirits, were magical beings that migrated through Jupiter’s waters.
During Lúmiran, they emerged right in the center of Canoa Lake and followed their course along the Emir River, passing through all of Jupiter and returning the following winter.
Legend had it that some less fortunate yonsais lost their way at birth and ended up stranded in puddles or any nearby body of water.
If someone managed to bring them to the lake before they died, that person could make a wish to the spirits, and at some point in their life, it would come true.
But it was just a legend, and children loved searching for them most of all.
“If you found a yonsai, what would you wish for?” I asked curiously.
“I already have everything I need right here,” he said, his gaze sweeping over me. The bell tolled a second time; on the third, Lúmiran would begin. “What would you wish for?”
“I don’t know,” I replied thoughtfully, then smiled at him. “Maybe a kiss from you?”
He flashed me a crooked smile. On the other side of the lake, a bell tolled a third time, its chime filling the air around us.
I looked up in time to see a flash of blue-green light cutting across the sky—just a streak at first, then it began to spread and take shape.
Soon the entire sky bloomed in shades of green, blue, and pink.
I watched in wonder, holding his warm hands.
It was beautiful, even more stunning than what I could see from home.
I stared at Zion, and he looked back at me—intense, warm, and tender.
That was when I saw a snowflake land on his nose, and soon they began falling from the sky all around us. He pulled me to his chest, pressing our bodies together.
“There’s a legend about the snow,” Zion said, wrapping his arms around my waist, a smile on his face. I wanted to freeze time right there. “It says that when you watch the first snow of winter fall with someone, that’s usually the person you’ll spend the rest of your life with.”
He lifted one hand from my waist and smoothed one of my braids, letting his fingers get lost in my hair where it hung loose at the ends.
“And what do you think of that legend?” I asked, lost in the intensity of his eyes.
“To me, it’s real. You’re the love of my life, Kyller—not because you’re my partner.
I don’t understand anything about this partnership bond, and in the end, it was just a way to bring us here.
You’re the love of my life because you’re the only one I want to share my days with, my choices, my bed, and my heart. ”
Each word registered at every level of my consciousness, seeped through every pore of my body, and settled into every corner of my soul.
“Forever?” I asked, running my hand over his cheek, smoothing his hair back, touching his eyebrow with my fingers. I needed to touch him to know it was real.
“Forever and beyond,” he said, placing a hand on my face as well. We looked at each other like two fires crackling in the darkness. In that darkness, we saw only each other.
“I need you to stay very still,” he whispered, bringing his face close to mine, his eyes fixed on my lips. I did as he asked, becoming as still as a frozen lake while the snow fell around us.
When his mouth descended to meet mine and his warm breath swept across my face, I thought I couldn’t withstand the wave of feelings and sensations crashing against me.
His lips touched mine with tenderness, adoration, and reverence, and I reciprocated with the same delicacy.
I was sand being swallowed by his exploring sea.
My lips moved over his with quiet softness and love, and soon his arm wrapped around my waist, holding me firmly against him. He held me as if I might flee. But flee where, when his heart was the only place I wanted to be?
His kiss deepened, and I clung to his neck, sighing with pleasure, ecstasy, and a pure sweetness that sang through my veins. We kissed with affection, not desire, and his waves swallowed me with tenderness, not violence. His kiss held our present, past, and future.
It tasted like infinity.
Δ
We only stopped kissing because the children started shouting, and soon the glow beneath the water caught my attention. Smiling, he gave me one last soft kiss, and then we turned to watch the yonsais.
The blue glow began to spread in the depths, and soon the first forms appeared on the water’s surface.
They were small, the size of my open hand, and their heads resembled the rounded bell of a jellyfish.
They had necks, torsos, arms, waists, and hips like humans, but below the hips, their legs gave way to bright, translucent tentacles like those of sea medusas.
They swam peacefully, surfacing to watch us with small, curious eyes as they continued on their way.
“They’re beautiful,” I murmured to Zion.
“I can’t wait to take you somewhere better to see them,” he said, hugging me from behind and resting his chin on my head.
“Can’t we go now?”
“Not yet. We have to wait a little longer—the spirits need to reach the right place.”
I looked at the lake thoughtfully and waited while the children ran around us. Behind us, where the tents and food were set up, the sound of a waltz began to rise amid conversations and laughter.
“Do you like to dance?” Zion asked, absorbed in his thoughts.
“I do, but I don’t know how to waltz.”
“Is that why you don’t want to dance on the dance floor?”
“Yes, but the main reason is I just want to be alone with you. I don’t want people watching us,” I replied, admiring the yonsais as they departed through the silent woods.
“If I wanted to dance with you, would you dance with me?” From the enthusiasm in his voice, I knew this wasn’t hypothetical—it was an invitation.
“Yes, if it were just the two of us, I’d dance all night. But I should warn you—you’ll end the night with sore toes.”