Closed A Gift from the Heart

[Vanari]

Vanari stared, a piece of half chewed mutton bulging in her mouth, as Ria whole heartedly agreed to her proposal. No complaints, no fuss. Not even so much as a look of doubt. Well, that was easy. She struggled for a moment to think of what to say. Originally, she had a whole arsenal of reasons, persuasions, and what not prepared for when Ria began pointing at the thousands of ways they could fail or die with these so called racers. She had expected skepticism, questions, a witty, sarcastic remark--anything. Dreamlike complacency was the last thing Vanari thought she'd get. The Vantha slid her gaze to the candle, then slid it back to Ria's heart shaped face and bright, green eyes. Something in the illusionist's expression made her heart flutter. Was it just her, or was there something about her friend tonight that seemed...different? More...magnetic? Her own eyes must have shifted half a dozen different colors as she stared back at Ria. She felt the strange sensation of becoming lost in the vastness of a thing she could not name. It was like...looking up at a sea of stars in the sky, or into a crackling fire in deep woods...like light, Ria was light, and she a moth, unable to steer away... Ari sat there for what felt like an entire bell in silence, fork held before her face in hazy stupor. A waft of intoxicating fragrance snuck into her nose, giving her another heady rush. The gears of her mind started groaning into motion, protesting every inch of movement. It was like wading through a stream of molasses. The Kiv, Ari slowly realized. It was doing something. And then, she realized something else. Something that stuck her with prickly needles of alarm. She had, without thinking, suggested they light that candle, let it fill the room with its sweet aroma, and then went on to propose the most dangerous, preposterous idea she'd ever thrown in Ria's direction. All of this, with the addition of wine and fine food laid out before them like a feast fit for kings. She'd done it. Vanari had manipulated Ria to the nth degree. The fork in her hand dipped a little, burdened by the weight of a rather large piece of fried potato, before slipping completely onto her food laden plate. The Vantha imagined what would happen if Ria saw it that way, connected the dots in an order which deemed her seemingly harmless, gullible friend as a manipulative, conniving fraud. Panic seized her. Images of Ria's outrage, of her anger, of her pain came unbidden to Ari's mind. Of her turning away. Of her leaving and never coming back. She should've stopped to consider if maybe the Kiv was making her a bit more delirious than necessary. Should've. But she didn't. "No!" Vanari blurted. "I mean...um, yes. We should, while we have the chance. But, er, maybe we can talk about that tomorrow." They needed to blow out the candle. That single, urgent thought flared for a tick in her mind, then slipped away with the rest of her rationality. Her head felt light. Too much. Too much wine, too much Kiv, too much Ria. She was so close, and they hadn't seen each other for days. Ari had been too busy, what with making the candles and helping Nolan situate Vera. Green. Ria's eyes were so green, like sparkling emeralds. And her skin so pale, unlike Ari's own, so soft... The Vantha wobbled up from her chair, almost knocking it over. "Ria," she spouted, a little breathless from revelation, not quite all there but determined to speak her mind. "The candle. We must...not smell anymore...or drink...my proposal...Nyka...not manipulating..." Ari concentrated on putting one foot in front of the other as the room swayed slightly like a casinor at sea. Wine. Definitely too much wine. She had been careless, because...because the candle made her so. Even in her muddled state, she could tell how absurd that conclusion sounded. But, whatever the candle was doing, it needed to stop. At least, long enough so they could pull themselves together and figure out when to leave for Nyka. She was close to the window sill now. Ari gripped one end of her bed for support, willing the floor to stand still. Her fingers stretched out. It was almost in her grasp. Then she promptly fell, her foot catching against a jutting floorboard, and landed with a pained thud.