Chapter Text
She’s been sobbing at the river for several minutes when something wet slaps her leg.
Saria lowers her hands, stifling the sobs as quickly as she can, afraid that she’s been discovered. Her vision is blurred through her tears. At first she thinks she’s made a mistake and she is alone, but soon she spots a pair of spindly arms crossed at the crest of the riverbed.
“Here,” the girl says. Saria’s never seen her before. She’s in the water, and naked from what Saria can tell. They look to be the same age, but Saria’s never seen her in school. “Don’t cry.”
“I’m not crying,” she says, her voice heaving and shaking, as she frantically wipes her tears and tries to still her chest.
“Okay,” the girl says, “but what’s wrong with crying?” Saria doesn’t answer, embarrassed and ashamed. “Here,” the girl says again. Her fingers unfurl and within are rocks, smooth, shining and brilliant, small like diamonds, others dark and flecked like the night sky. “These are pretty and they make me think of you,” she turns them for her, “they shine just as bright, even when they dry. Are you a Vouivre? I like your horns. And your tail.” She slithers out of the water and seems to take the water with her before she becomes clearer. It isn’t anything Saria has ever seen or can explain, but she is only eight and she reasons she still has much to learn.
“Yes, I’m a Vouivre. I’ve never seen someone like you.” Her absence of horns made it difficult to pin down her race despite her pointy ears that seem too big for her small frame.
The girl is touching her tail and Saria flicks it, trying to get her to back off.
“It’s softer than I thought it’d be!” She exclaims. “My name is Muelsyse. My parents are dead so I don’t get much company. It’s been nice to have you visit, even if you cry so much. I cry a lot, too.”
“I don’t cry!” Her face reddens. Muelsyse extends the rocks and Saria takes them. “Why are you naked?”
“I’m not wearing clothes.”
“Why not? It’s uncivilized.” Her father would be scandalized. Saria knows he’d yell at her just for talking to this strange creature.
“What’s your name?” The girl asks.
She shouldn’t tell her. “Saria.”
Muelsyse says the name and smiles. Saria looks at the rocks. They are smooth, and bright, their surface arrayed with waves as formations. They’re very pretty and warm in her hand. “Do you like them?”
Saria nods and Muelsyse smiles. “What were you doing in the river?”
“I live there.”
“Don’t lie!”
“I’m not lying!” And now her eyes, the color of spring leaves hit by the first rays of sunlight widen. Her eyes are big, her hands small, her proportions seem to be all over the place.
“People can’t live in the river.”
“I can,” Muelsyse says, “I can show you if you want.”
“What do you mean?”
“I can take you down there.”
Saria frowns. “I’ll drown.” It all sounds suspicious.
“I won’t let you.” She huffs. “Why do you cry so much?”
“I don’t—” she stops, tired, not seeing any point in trying to impress this girl. “My father says that I must control my emotions. It’s weakness to cry.”
“No, it isn’t. My mom always said that tears are a powerful weapon. That’s before she died though, and my tears weren’t enough to save her.” Her bright expression dims, her eyes filling with sorrow. Saria wonders if she will cry.
“How did your parents die?”
“Oripathy. They went into the city and died very quickly after they got infected.”
Saria has heard of Oripathy, but from what she knows it’s rarely a threat to Vouivre. It’s her people’s wild nature that must be tamed. “… Who takes care of you? Little girls mustn’t be on their own.”
“You’re on your own.”
She has a point and it annoys Saria. “That’s different. I wear clothes and have a proper home.” Muelsyse says nothing. “Isn’t there anywhere you can go? Anyone who can take you in?”
“I don’t think so.”
“What are you?”
“Huh? I’m a girl.”
“No, I mean…” She stops. Muelsyse looks sad and Saria worries she’s done more harm than good. “You can touch my tail if it’ll make you feel better.”
The cheer floods back in. “Really?”
“I said so.”
Muelsyse picks up her tail, draping it across her lap. She gasps.
“What is it?”
“It’s sharp, too.”
“Oh. I suppose it is. Be careful, then.”
“All right.” She pets the tail, doing long, gentle strokes as if she were a cat.
“I can’t stay very long. I have lessons to attend.”
“That sounds lovely.”
Saria supposes so, but she isn’t sure she has a choice in the matter. Muelsyse traces her fingers over the tips of the sharp curves of her tail. Saria fidgets. “I should go now.”
“All right.” She lets her go and Saria stands. “Will you visit again? I’m always here.”
“I don’t know. My father…”
“Can you ask your mother?”
Saria frowns. “I don’t…” Muelsyse reaches up and squeezes her hand. She’s unused to being touched by anyone since her mother passed. Her father has grown meaner since then. The touch is gentle. “Okay, I will.”
“Yes!” She lets go of her hand to clap and walks with her to her bike as Saria picks it up and clambers on. “Don’t forget, okay?”
“I won’t,” Saria says. She waves. “Bye, Muelsyse.”
“See you soon!”
♦︎
She keeps her promise and visits. The only downside is that she no longer has a safe refuge to cry on her own, but eventually, she foregoes her pride and cries freely in front of her. Muelsyse sometimes cries with her.
Saria tells her about school, her classmates, about the things in the newspapers. Muelsyse is a sponge that wants to learn everything and so Saria attaches a basket to her bike to bring her books from her home’s library. She chooses them at random and Muelsyse reads them all and discusses them with her when Saria returns. A lot of the material doesn’t make sense to Saria and she begins doing her own research when she isn’t with Muelsyse to better understand.
“Can’t you come to the city?” Saria asks her. “There’s a children’s day at the museum and we can go together.”
“Mom said I should stay away from the city or I’ll get sick.”
“Oh.” She’s disappointed.
“Why don’t you go and then you can tell me about it?”
“I will.”
And she does. She collects some of her allowance and buys an art book from the museum and brings it back to Muelsyse who cries from happiness. Saria didn’t know anyone could cry from happiness and wonders why she never has.
The visits continue. Saria brings her clothes from her too-large wardrobe. Muelsyse tries them on. They’re a good fit. But she fidgets. “It’s been so long since I wore clothes,” she stretches, kicking her legs, waving her arms, “they’re so restrictive.”
“You don’t like them?”
“I like them,” she beams and leans over, giving her a peck on the cheek. “Thank you, Saria!”
“I’ll bring more.”
“Oh. Okay.”
Saria brings more. Muelsyse has a tree she uses to collect her belongings. Muelsyse is always wearing one of the outfits that Saria has gifted her when she visits, but it isn’t long before the skies begin to turn grey and cloudy. It will snow soon. “Don’t you get cold at night?”
“Sometimes.”
“You’ll get sick. What will you do when it snows?”
“I’ll be okay.”
Saria brings her sweaters, scarves, coats. Muelsyse accepts them.
Rainstorms come. Blizzards. Sometimes Saria can’t get to her right away. She trudges through snow, her heart bursting in her chest, worried over her. Muelsyse is always there. Sometimes in the river. Sometimes up in a tree.
“What’s wrong?” Muelsyse asks, rushing over to her.
“I was scared,” Saria says, only going on when Muelsyse cocks her head to look at her, “I thought something might happen to you.”
Muelsyse laughs lightly. “But I live here. I won’t go anywhere.” Saria isn’t sure. Muelsyse hugs her, patting her back. “I mean it.”
♦︎
Years pass. Saria gets busier. Her visits become more infrequent as her father and life become more demanding. She rushes over, her breathing and heart steady despite her speed. She practically jumps off the bike going to Muelsyse.
“Hi! Sorry, I’m late,” Saria says. She sits next to her on the riverbank and sets down what she’s brought. The air is already brisk and even if she had arrived hours earlier it would have still been dark. Muelsyse smiles over at her, a lantern burning between them. “Here,” she extends the small box from the bakery. Muelsyse opens it. Inside is an oversized cupcake that is half frosting. The colors are bright, glittery, dotted with sugar. “I tried to make you a cake myself but it didn’t turn out,” she scratches the back of her neck, “so I got you this instead.”
Muelsyse chuckles softly. “You should have brought your cake.”
“It was ugly.”
“Mh, well not everything can be as pretty as you are.”
Saria blinks and blushes. No one has called her pretty before although Saria knows she is. “Happy birthday, Muelsyse.”
“Thank you.” She has a bite and the frosting sticks to her nose and lips. Saria laughs and when Muelsyse raises her eyebrows Saria wipes the frosting away. “Oh, you try it then.”
“I’m not allowed sugar. My father—”
“It’s my birthday.” She pouts. Her pout has always been effective against her and Saria takes the cupcake and has a bite. Muelsyse laughs this time. “You got it everywhere. Should I get you a bib?”
“Hey.”
Muelsyse smiles, using her thumb to wipe it from her forehead and cheeks, her hair. “I didn’t think I’d see you today.”
“I told you I’d come.” But that was months ago. There is rarely a free moment in her life. Some part of her appreciates it. Being without Muelsyse is difficult and empty hours make it more so. Now she barely has time to think but she doesn’t get to see her as often as she expects. “I want to see you more. Won’t you consider coming to the city?” It’s been six years now and Muelsyse still hasn’t visited, at least not that Saria is aware of.
“I told you why I can’t.”
Saria nods, sorry about it.
“Why don’t you update me on everything in your life?”
Saria does, telling her about schooling, her classmates, her father, the boxing regimen that she’s on, as well as the fencing lessons she’s been more rigorous about the past few years, the cram study sessions, the tutors… “It’s so much,” she ends.
“Do you like it?”
“I think so? But it leaves me less time to visit you.” Truthfully she has ducked out on her boxing training today and her tutor is no doubt waiting at home. She worries that when she does return home her father’s wrath will be waiting for her but not visiting wasn’t an option. “I wish I could see you more.”
“Me too.”
Saria shifts. Years have passed and it only occurs to her now to ask the question. “Do you have any other visitors?”
Muelsyse shakes her head. “Sometimes people stop by. Sometimes not nice people,” Saria is alarmed. “But I hide from them.” Saria nods. “Sometimes it’s just other kids looking to drink and smoke in private. Sometimes it’s adults doing… um, adult things.” Saria lifts her eyebrows. “Sometimes they show up before I have time to hide. But they don’t ever seem to notice me.”
“That’s hard to believe.”
“You didn’t notice me for nearly a year.”
Saria lowers her face, ashamed. “I’m sorry.”
“You came here today. It’s what I’ve wished for since I last saw you.”
“Oh.” Then it was worth it, all of it was, all the hell she’ll likely catch, will be worth it. “Wait, there’s something else.” She taps the gift-wrapped box. “This is for you.”
“Is it the cake?” she asks hopefully.
“No, it’s not the cake.” She watches Muelsyse open it, her heart in her throat, unsure if the gift was a poor idea. Muelsyse stares into the box. She smiles, puzzled. “They’re hair pins,” Saria says. “Your hair has gotten longer and it’s always in your face.” Saria takes one out, laying it flat in her palm. “They look like leaves, see? In the daylight they shimmer, as if they’ve been hit by sunlight. They made me think of you and I wanted you to have them.” A beat. “Um— may I?”
Muelsyse has been stunned into silence, but she manages to nod.
Saria leans forward, easing the hair behind Muelsyse’s ear and securing the clip into place. She repeats the process on the other side before pulling back to look at her. She finds herself smiling. “You look really beautiful. I mean, they look nice,” she says stiffly.
The gangliness that had plagued Muelsyse when they were younger has been shed over the years. Her eyes were still large but her face had grown to suit them. Now they sparkle with mischief and anticipation. Her ears are longer and pointier now but they charm her.
“Thank you. I’ll treasure them,” Muelsyse’s cheeks look dark in the night but Saria isn’t sure whether it’s just the glow of the lantern or some other thing. “Oh, I have something for you, too.” She pulls out something from behind her and opens her hand. At first, Saria can only see what appears to be a rock but Muelsyse slides closer and Saria sees what looks to be two rocks and cords. Muelsyse lifts the necklace. “I found these.”
“They’re the same kind of rocks from when we first met.”
“That’s right! You remembered.” She palms the necklace. “Anyway, I know you’re busy and you can’t always visit me, so I made you this so I can always be close to you. That is— um— if you want?” Saria nods and Muelsyse lifts the necklace over her head, settling it on her chest. “They’re warm, too, trust me.”
Saria picks up the rocks, holding them. Yes, they’re warm. She still has the rocks Muelsyse gifted her in her room, hidden in her nightstand, afraid that someone will take the only warmth she has in her life away from Muelsyse. The gift, pebbles as her father might refer to them, make her emotional. “You’re the only friend to give me a present.”
Muelsyse’s eyes go big again. “Your other friends don’t give you presents?”
“I don’t have other friends.”
“Oh? That’s surprising. You’re nice and smart and beautiful.”
She warms. “Um, you too.”
Muelsyse laughs. “You’re my only friend, too.” She leans into her and Saria sighs, wrapping an arm nervously around her shoulders. “I wish we could stay like this.”
She wishes that too. She’s often thought of asking Muelsyse to move in with her family but knows her father would never accept it. Even without him, would it be a better life to be trapped in concrete if she’s so afraid of the city? They sit in a long, comfortable silence, Saria soaking in her warmth, carefully circling her tail around her waist.
It’s only the crunching of leaves and twigs behind her that pulls her from her restful state. They separate, Saria’s heart pounding. “Hide,” she hisses at Muelsyse. Muelsyse shakes her head. “Do it!”
The next moment her father and his hired hands have stepped into the clearing. Saria looks around, grateful for the darkness, grateful for the cover it gives Muelsyse to follow her orders to hide.
“Father—”
“Did you think I didn’t know?” he asks.
What follows happens in a blur. He raises his voice, he makes accusations. She is an irresponsible, undisciplined liar. She raises her voice in turn, higher, hotter, frustration unleashing, angry tears spilling from her eyes, now when she needs most to stand firm.
One of her father’s men shouts and they all look behind her. It must be Muelsyse. Saria turns. She doesn’t know what happens next. There’s a blinding shock, a muted stinging numbness on her face and head. Her world is turned upside down. Her head burns. There’s something hard and sharp beneath it. Hot begins to pool around her and she’s disoriented. The blades of grass and leaves are large, monstrous in size. She realizes only then that she’s been knocked to the ground. Her father stands above her, looking furious.
A lantern is kicked over and fire begins to spread.
Her head spins.
Muffled men’s voices.
There’s water on the ground, there’s water everywhere. There are other thuds as the others who came with her father are flung off as if by a gust of wind or a wave.
Her father is no exception. Saria’s never heard him scream before, but she’s also never seen him look so incensed either as he picks himself up. He goes to Saria, sopping wet, and grabs a fistful of her shirt yanking her to her feet. Saria’s too dizzy to fight him off. She can’t barely keep her eyes open.
In her hazy state she sees Muelsyse in the distance or what she thinks is Muelsyse. She’s translucent like a ghost. She looks angry. Or like she’s crying. Saria can’t tell. Muelsyse starts moving towards them but Saria shakes her head. Muelsyse still doesn’t stop. Saria has never known how to plead or beg, but she hopes her eyes can do enough to communicate her message.
Muelsyse stops her advance and collapses to the ground, into the ground. Is it crying that she hears…? The fire is still spreading. She tries to tell her father but she can’t form words and is losing consciousness quickly.
There’s something wrong with that place, her father says.
She doesn’t remember those words until many years later. In retrospect, it explained so much.
♦︎
“Mermaid?”
Saria opens her eyes. Kristen rests on her elbow, looking down at her, a halo of morning light making her hair shine. Saria tries to shake sleep off and focus on her but the sunlight is blinding. She shields her eyes. “What?” she mumbles.
“You mentioned a mermaid just now,” Kristen says. She settles her head on the pillow next to her. “And muesli. Are you hungry?”
“What?” she asks again.
“Were you dreaming?” Saria rubs her eyes. “What were you dreaming about?”
“A river,” she says before she’s certain. Kristen cocks her head. Saria works to gather her faculties. “There used to be a river by my childhood home.”
“It’s gone?”
“Something happened.” Her head hurts thinking about it. “I visited it a few years back. At least I think it was the place.” It didn’t look the way she thought it would. “The trees were charred, and the river was sludgy and grey.” There was no life there.
“Was it a wildfire?”
“Unsure.”
Kristen strokes her hair. “It must have meant something to you.” Saria lifts her eyebrows. “Your expression is always neutral. I didn’t know you had it in you to look sad.”
She didn’t know she was sad. Her existence has been an even keeled one. Nothing has warranted any excess of emotion. She’s excelled in her studies, as well as athletics. She has been recognized nationally for her calcification and Oripathy work. Her fingers wrap around the rock necklace she wears, warmth seeping into her fingers and radiating out to the rest of her.
It’s a comforting feeling, but one that always leaves her melancholy for reasons unknown. The past few years she has lived adequately, despite being on her own. She has worked past the discomfort of loneliness and has achieved much because of it. But it burrows into her, wearing her down.
Kristen’s tail taps her leg and Saria startles, shocked by a memory that is gone long before she can place it. Kristen stares looks intently at her. “You’re unfocused,” she says.
Her father used to say that to her. “I’ve only just woken up.”
“Why do you wear these?” her hand covers Saria, as if asking her to release the necklace. Saria doesn’t. It isn’t the first time Kristen has asked. Saria doesn’t have an answer even if she suspects that Kristen thinks she’s hiding the truth from her. “Were they from your mother…?” Saria shakes her head slowly, certain that isn’t true. “A lover?”
“I’ve never had a lover. Present company excluded.”
“Me neither.” She considers. “Relationships eat up a lot of time. Even for reasonable women like us.”
She doesn’t disagree. “What do you propose?” A schedule, perhaps? They already study together.
“Let’s break up.”
They’ve been together a little under a year at this point. She wants to ask why but maybe it doesn’t matter. That she’s winded from the suggestion is irrelevant. “All right.”
“I thought you’d argue.”
“Did you?”
“Maybe part of me wanted you to, but I don’t know what I would have done then.”
“A break-up over dreams is impractical. If you’re concerned about time management we could spend less time together.”
Kristen muses it over before smiling. “Let’s have another tumble, for old time’s sake? Maybe I’ll change my mind.” She meets her eyes. Saria nods and Kristen takes her shirt off.
♦︎
The ‘old time’s sake’ remains steady. Their sexual relationship continues but the rest is nebulous. They work well as friends and it gives them both more time to devote to their work.
She never felt less lonely with Kristen, although some part of her felt less alone. Her goals remain unchanged. She will find a way to heal the world of Oripathy. The goal is a lofty one, one that others have questioned though they question less these days.
Kristen does not see her aim as unreasonable but wonders about her motivation. It’s another question Saria can’t answer, she only knows that it is imperative that she do this.
Now she walks. It’s autumn and the air is cool, colorful leaves drifting lazily to the ground. She’s moves through the Trimounts Institute of Technology campus to help clear her head after encountering a particularly vexing problem she’s yet to resolve.
A child cries in the distance.
Saria turns her head. Commotions are not uncommon on campus, much to her disappointment. Yet children are rarely heard. Her father would like this place. She spots a child on his own and moves over to him. It’s only when he’s within arm’s reach that she realizes he isn’t alone. A woman stoops in front of him, a red toy firetruck in hand.
Saria hears the flow of the river the way she often does, always unprovoked, always making her feel unsteady. The woman pops the wheels back into place before offering it back to him. “See? Good as new.”
The boy takes the truck back, sniffling. He sniffles, wiping snot from his nose.
Saria’s eyes settle over the woman, over the pins in her hair like leaves. Her ears are long. There’s a beauty mark beneath her eye. The woman seems startled when her gaze lifts to look at Saria. A stunned blink and she’s focused on the boy again. “Why don’t you try it out?” she asks.
The boy gets on his hands and knees test driving the toy truck. “It moves!” He laughs, stomping and clapping. The woman smiles. A name swirls in Saria’s mind. The woman keeps her arms folded gently over her lap, nearly falling over when the boy throws his arms around her and kisses her cheek. “Thank you, Lady.”
“You’re very welcome,” she strokes his back. “Okey doke. I see your mom in the distance. You’ve given her quite the scare, and she must miss you, so better get back to her.”
He releases her and picks up his truck, waving and calling out his goodbye as he races to get to his mother. The woman look after him, eyebrow burrowed in concentration, her eyes shining like the twinkling of the night stars. She stands up and looks at Saria apprehensively. “Hello.”
Saria stares back at her, remembering a smoky oven, a cake pan being emptied into the trash. She can’t speak.
“Fancy meeting you here.”
“…Have we met…?” Something passes over the woman’s expression before it fills with a quiet melancholy. She is the most beautiful woman Saria can recall seeing even if objectively Saria knows that Kristen is more attractive. Maybe it’s only the strangeness of her features, extraordinary and delicate, unlike anyone she’s seen that makes her so entrancing.
The woman’s eyes wander over her, lighting on her chest a moment. A smile touches her lips before her gaze wanders down to Saria’s anxiously swishing tail. Her eyes soften.
“Have we met?” Saria asks again. She doesn’t make it a point to speak to strangers and yet this woman feels known to her.
She laces her hands behind her back. “You did a presentation on steps to mitigate the spread of Oripathy over Terra a few months ago. I was in the audience. Maybe you saw me there?”
Oh. “Perhaps,” she says, unsure why she’s disappointed.
“I’m Muelsyse,” she stretches out her hand. “Saria, right?”
Saria takes her hand, their fingers closing around one another. She looks at the pins in her hair and doesn’t let go right away. “Yes. That’s correct.” Her head hurts. “Are you a student here?”
“Yeppers. I have some time before my next class and was headed to the cafe. I wouldn’t mind a little company if you’re game.”
Saria doesn’t know her and has no time for chit-chat. “All right.” She follows her and they get a small table by the window. Students flow past on the sidewalk. Saria looks at the specials for today, November 3rd. Mh. “Has something caught your eye?” She looks back at Muelsyse who’s looking right at her.
Muelsyse turns to the menu. “Company’s already the best gift I could have gotten. What about you? It’s my treat.”
“No. I’d like to.” She feels she has to do this though she can’t explain why.
“That’s okay—”
“Please,” she insists.
“Oh, all right.” A beat. “Green tea. And whatever else. We can share, if you’d like.”
Saria nods and stands, ordering tea for Muelsyse and coffee for herself. She looks through the baked goods while she waits in line. She glances back at the table where Muelsyse sits, as if afraid she’ll disappear if she looks away long enough. She thinks of her visits back home, looking through the scant family photographs. A handful of pages. She gets taller and has more awards. Always she stands alone. Something was missing but she never knew what. It’s your mother you miss, her father once said when she asked. But Saria had never really known her.
She reaches the register. There’s a giant cupcake on display, bright and sparkly frosting heaped on top. Against her better judgment, she chooses it, returning to the table with a tray for them.
She sets the dish with the cupcake in front of Muelsyse. Muelsyse’s lips part, her eyes shining. She laughs softly. “Look at that.”
Happy birthday, Muelsyse. She wants to say. She bites her tongue. She knows nothing about her. She attended one of her presentations…? Saria doesn’t think she’s lying, but she doubts it’s the whole truth. She slides a few napkins over to her. “If you’re not careful you’ll get it all over your face.”
Muelsyse’s smile is bittersweet. She takes a bite and as anticipated the frosting dots her nose and cheeks. Saria starts reaching over to wipe it away before she catches herself. I know you, she wants to say. She can’t. She has nothing to prove it, but she feels it. The persistent emptiness that has plagued her for years is abating with every passing moment.
She thinks back to her long bike rides. One day she no longer had a bike. But before then she seems to remember riding through the forests, alongside of a river, a girl sitting behind her, arms snaked around her waist, a girl sitting on the handlebars, laughing, shouting for Saria to go faster.
Sinking in a water bubble, letting the flow of the river carry them. See? I told you I wouldn’t let you drown. Sitting on the riverbed, feeling helpless as Muelsyse cried for her family. I’m always going to be alone.
No, you won’t. You have me.
But it wasn’t long until Saria’s responsibilities took her away.
A lantern was knocked over. There was water. There was Muelsyse, small, beautiful, frightening, trying to protect her. The memories crash into her and they fill her, everywhere that she has been splintered and hollowed, washing her in warmth, comfort. She wasn’t a dream. Not just that. She was real.
Ten years have passed. Now she’s here. Now she’s found her again.
She has to calm herself. She has been trained for this. To strip away all her needless emotion. To control herself. But she’s overwhelmed. Nor does she know how to say what she wants to say. It’s too much.
Muelsyse looks at her, eyes brimming with curiosity, concern. “You okay?”
Saria tries to still her shaking hands. She meets her gaze and takes a breath.