[Glass Reverie] Some Like It Hot (Krys)

[Juni]

Fall 30, 511 A.V.

Of course, the real work of forming a piece of glasswork began well before the artisan ever placed the end of the pipe to his lips. For eight years now, Juni had been there, every workday, right from the first moment that the fire under the glory hole was stoked to life, early in the morning. It took a good hour for the heat to rise to a high enough temperature. Meanwhile, the cooler flames of the annealer could be started and the pieces of the day before carefully removed and set aside. The clay pipes, varying in length from 30 to 60 cm., were placed in the pipe warmer – glass doesn’t stick to a cold surface. Whoever was set to work the glass first would carefully set out his tools on the workbench – a place for both sitting and turning the glass. Blocks, jacks, paddles, tweezers, straight shears, diamond shears – each one was arranged just so – quick to hand when needed. The marble slab used for initial shaping was carefully cleaned. Paper, water, and finally, the materials to be used to color the piece, were gathered and organized. Whether powdered or granular or in rods or chips, great thought and attention went into the projected design and affect, and the materials needed – iron, manganese, cobalt, carbon, antimony, copper, tin, lead – varying compounds of these, and in differing combinations with one another, could produce almost every shade and tint of the rainbow. And throughout, the heating and melting of the various sands in the crucible – the raw material from which such beauty would derive – all this the apprentices did or helped with, every morning that the work was to occur. For eight years, Juni had begun his workdays in this way, in the Glass Reverie, helping his master, Selek, create the wondrous pieces of glassware that were so sought after throughout Mizahar.

This morning was no different. For several hours, things progressed as they should. Selek and Balsalm, the oldest apprentice, took turns gathering the blobs of molten glass on the end of a pipe. The most important aspect of the process was to keep turning the glass so that it did not solidify. The blob was first rolled on the surface of the marver – the marble slab – to shape it into a bullet, or occasionally, for a different look, water soaked paddles could be used. A puff of air through the pipe was trapped with the thumb and the air would expand until the desired size was reached. From time to time, between steps, the glass might be returned to the glory hole for reheating, as the glass was turned, and shaped with the tools and color added on the outside by rolling the piece over the materials chosen. Any or all of the various tools could come into play, and Juni was kept busy helping one or the other of the two men as they shaped and twisted and added and colored. Selek finally took a break and for a while Juni took his place, gathering, blocking and blowing – shaping, coloring and finishing. The youngest apprentice, who was still very new, assisted him, watching with wide eyes and soaking it all in just as Juni had done for many years.

Selek, now rested, switched off with Juni again, and they had just started on the next piece when it happened. Juni, a thick pad of soaking paper in his hand, was molding the sides of the piece as Selek blew in the pipe. The pipe rested on two supports and Selek, kneeling, twirled it along, back and forth, at a steady rate. The youngest apprentice, Twig by name, was hurrying to refill the water bucket that Juni would use to resoak the smoldering, charred paper – the glass was some two thousand or so degrees still and steam and smoke both formed a tiny cloud about Juni’s face. As Juni moved along with the twirling piece, Twig came up behind him and stumbled, bumping into him. It wasn’t a huge shock, but it was enough to cause Juni's left hand to shove forward suddenly, unexpectedly. It slid down the pipe, and the underside of his index finger and the curve of skin between finger and thumb pressed hard against the hot clay. With a yelp of pain, Juni jerked his hand away, inadvertently dropping the pad of wet paper as his right hand instinctively grabbed protectively at his badly burnt left hand. He cursed soundly and loudly, as Selek did likewise, the jostled pipe having poked him soundly in the lip.

“The glass!” Selek cried in dismay, already rising from the floor, thinking the piece was ruined.

[Krysanthe]

Making glass beads was one of Krysanthe’s favorite things to do. The apprentice was happy to sit alone in her corner, left to make jewelry while the others worked on larger pieces. Everyone knew that she had a knack for making everything from necklaces for beading to body piercings. She was just heating up the tip of a glass rod to begin making her third bead, mandrel in hand, when she heard a commotion not five yards from where she sat. There was a small group of glassworkers, and there was a near crisis at hand. Without the rod turning, the glass would become disformed and be ruined beyond repair, having to start all over. Krys had seen the situation before; it happens to everyone. Still, it wasn’t a crisis that could not be prevented. She set down her glass rod in a glass of water, not caring what sort of disfiguration had occurred to it, she was more concerned about what was happening to the others. Glass rods were easy to make, but large projects like the others were doing were not. She dashed over to the group, gently shoving the one who had burned himself out of her way. She grabbed the newspaper off of the floor, using her free hand to turn the rod. She had got there just in time, and although the glass was a bit lopsided, they would be able to repair it. She hoped that Selek would get going before the piece collapses. She had known the man was a genious with glass, which is why he was such a great teacher for multiple apprentices. Krys yelled out an order of sorts for the youngest apprentice to go refill the bucket of water that he had dropped. Her golden eyes reflected the flame with a beauty that came alive. She had not worked on a large piece in a long time, so it only made the experience more of an event for her. Trying to keep her focus on the glass, she asked the boy who she had shoved out of the way, “Hey, are you alright?” Her mind wandered to the bead she had been working on, not really expecting an answer, but she quickly returned to the task at hand. Glassworking was a mental task, and she needed to stay focused, that is, unless one of Selek’s apprentices took over once again.

[Juni]

Holding his hand carefully, Juni allowed himself to be shoved, gently, out of the way. Burns and other injuries, such as cuts, were more rare than one might assume given the temperatures of the furnaces and the materials they worked with. It only took one or two burns to teach the apprentices to be very, very careful. In respect to their chosen craft, the glassworkers of Wind Reach were very fortunate. A normal wood fueled furnace would have required up to two weeks to reach temperatures hot enough to melt the sand, wood ash, seaweed ash and crushed oyster shell mix that became glass. But situated as they were inside a volcano, the naturally generated thermal energy had been cleverly captured by the geomancers who had crafted the Glass Reverie. It was possible to keep the molten glass hot enough to work for an indefinite period of time in the stone crucibles that were contained inside the furnaces. In fact, the trick was in keeping the glory holes and the annealers cooler than the furnaces, and all that was part of the apprentices’ tasks. To touch any part of your body to any of such super hot surfaces once was quite enough to convince anybody that they didn’t want to repeat the mistake.

Of course, as with Twig stumbling over his own over large feet, accidents were bound to happen. At least Juni’s hand had been on the rod and he didn’t shove it completely up against the viscous glass that Selek was working. So, in response to Krys’ question, he said more quietly than his yelp of a moment before, “Yeah, I’m OK.” Still, he made no move to replace her as she deftly and fluidly stepped into his place, her hand skimming the pipe back into rotation. Instead, he stepped in front of the abashed and retreating Twig, saying, “Half a tick – is there any water left in that thing?” Juni peered into the bucket, which was still a good third full, and without waiting, plunged his seared hand into the cooling liquid. “Good find another bucket and fill it and bring it back, quick.” Twig looked miserable, but Juni gave him an encouraging smile. “Go on, “ he said gently. “You can make your apologies later.”

Selek, meanwhile, reassured by Juni’s lack of further vocalizations, and realizing the cold water was the best thing for the burn at the moment, only nodded to him, saying briefly, “We’ll tend to that directly.” With a grateful look on his perspiring face cast in the direction of the young woman, and another nod, he bent to blow gently once more. Krys had been an apprentice for a long time. Her skill wasn’t in question, in the master’s mind. She was well enough known about the Reverie, and about Wind Reach in general, for her beautiful beads as well as her good looks, and her equally slightly sour disposition. Between puffs, the master artisan gave the girl brief instructions about where he was going with the piece and soon enough, the two of them had it in state where it could cool a bit before another gather was made to layer over what was already formed. Juni, kneeling on the ground with his left hand in the bucket, watched carefully, but knew he would find no flaw in her work. Her skill wasn’t what kept the young woman from leaving the apprentice ranks.

The boy couldn’t help it. Several times, his eyes, flecked with red now due to the pain of his burn, traveled from Krys’ hands to the rest of her, especially her face, focused as it was on the work she now attended to. He was entirely familiar with those features. He had grown up with this girl. She might not have realized it, but he had often studied her,too shy to go right up to her and strike up a conversation, but observing her all the same. Juni was a very quiet person, and he spent much of his time taking in what was going on around him, probably much more than anyone would have thought. And so, as he watched Krys, he wondered again about the change that had overtaken her in the past year or so. He hadn’t a clue what had caused it. No-one did. She had almost lost her apprenticeship, going into an extended seclusion – then re-emerging without any real explanation. But she had definitely become very closely guarded, more so than the ever quiet girl had been for the years that he had known her. She seemed shut down, and the lines of her face, though often appearing almost hostile to some, to Juni seemed merely overwhelmingly sad. She had a great deal of talent, but she seemed to now lack focus, or direction. If he knew her better, he might have tried to talk to her. But as it was, even now, he merely watched her, on the outside looking in. But the view was totally obscured. At least, to him, it was.

It was the work of only three minutes or so before Selek and Krys were able to break and straighten, Krys setting the blow pipe and the halfway finished piece up on a resting rack. Selek immediately came over to Juni. “Let’s see, boy,” he said gruffly, though the man was well known for having a compassionate heart when it came to his apprentices. Juni had always known he was lucky, for not all masters were so kind.

Obediently, he pulled his hand from the bucket and Selek looked at it appraisingly. “You’d best go see the healer,” was his pronouncement. By this time, Balsalm, had wandered back from wherever he had been and was hovering over Selek’s shoulder, looking at the burn as well.

“You go on, Juni. Me and Twig will do well enough. Go on and get that seen to.”

Juni felt the increased pain and sting with the hand now out of the cooling water. He nodded, and rose, carrying the bucket as he went. It seemed sensible to just carry the damn thing with him, so he could keep his hand submerged, though it would look slightly ridiculous. Catching Krys’ eye – those beautiful golden eyes that were in some ways similar to his own – he nodded shortly. “Thanks Krys. That was brilliant.”

Selek too turned to the young woman, smiling. “Yes, Krysanthe. You were a life saver. I owe you one.”

[Krysanthe]

Raising nimble fingers to wipe the sweat that had formed upon her brow, Krys did not say a word as their project was nearly completely finished, and her job was complete. She cast her always solemn gaze over to the one who had burned himself. Juni was his name, if her memory allowed. Envious of Selek’s kind nature, the redhead woman watched curiously as he examined the younger man’s burns. Krys recalled the days when she made the foolish mistakes of charring her own fingers, but her master was not so compassionate. He only yelled and told her about how she was such a failure, and how she would need to do two projects to make up for the one lost one. Krysanthe never argued, having not once been to a healer for a burn, no matter how bad. Many believe that her master’s stern nature is one of the reasons why Krys grew to be so talented. Her stubborn attitude and quiet, reclusive nature kept her from becoming an avora, and she wouldn’t have it any other way. The girl did not like the sound of Selek’s order to go see the healer, or the way that Juni was holding his hand in the bucket. Feeling a twang of pity towards the lad, she kept her eyes on him, being caught off guard when he looked back. There was something in his eyes, something that she could not quite decipher the meaning of. It was familiar, yet new to her in so many ways, something that she could never quite understand. Appreciation. At the compliment, she did not respond, although when Selek made his comment, she could not help but retort with “Think nothing of it.” Her voice was softer now, for she was not one to enjoy talking, and even less so when it came to receiving compliments. Flattery was certainly not her cup of tea. Apprehensive at first, Krysanthe made up her mind to accompany Juni to the healer, even if it meant leaving behind the beads she had been working on. Oh well, it was not a huge loss. The glass would be there when she got back. Before she moved to his side, she did run over to her corner, certain to turn off the tube spouting a perfectly capped blue flame. No need to have it running if no one was using it. She moved over to Juni once again, making a motion with her hand for them to start walking. Krysanthe, however accustomed to silence she was, could not stand the silence between two people within such a close proximity. She felt needed to say something, yet nothing came to mind, so instead, she moved, focusing on the rhythmic pattern of their feet padding on the stone floors of the tunnels of Wind Reach, as they made their way to the healer who could tend to Juni’s hand.

[Juni]

Juni was not surprised when Kyrs pretty much blew off his remark to her. Nor was he put off by her aloof manner. It was how she acted towards most people, though he noted that she did have the graciousness, and good sense, to reply deprecatingly to Selek. In a city where your whole life was dictated by class, it was always a good idea to respect your betters. The fact that Krys didn’t venture to make further small talk, or discuss the accident, was typical of her as well – she wasn’t known to be a chatter box, a gossip, or even very sociable. In that, Juni could appreciate her reticence to interact with others. For himself, it wasn’t especially a desire to be apart. He simply had a hard time knowing what to say to others. The adage about a wise man keeping his mouth shut and letting others think him a fool was one he instinctively adhered to. There were plenty around who would finish the thought by opening their mouths and proving themselves fools. He preferred to keep quiet until he found that he really had something to say that might be worth listening to.

“Just come on back when you’re done,” Selek was saying. “Let me know what’s to be done. You might need a day or two off from the looks of it.” With that, the man turned back to his work. He was kind hearted but he was also a hard worker, and with a full day ahead of him, he wouldn’t waste time chattering over something that he personally could do nothing about.

Juni threw Twig another look, saying in an undertone, “Don’t fret – we all of us make mistakes. Mind your step and do good work for Selek, alright?”

The boy, tall for his age and slender as his namesake, nodded glumly, still scared of what he had done and the havoc he had almost wreaked. In the end, it was more important, perhaps, that the piece had been rescued by the girl than it was that Juni had been injured. With a mop of blonde curls, and his unusual height, it was amazing that Selek had even considered him for an apprentice. It made the Dek child that much more determined to do well, so an accident like this made him nervous in the extreme. Juni realized all this, and, knowing how it felt to the new kid and under close scrutiny, he could empathize. Those days seemed far away for him, now. Once Balsalm was given the full status of avora, Juni would be Selek’s head apprentice. And then . . . well, time enough to think about that later.

Holding the bucket awkwardly, with his left hand soaking in the cooling water, Juni made his way to that end of the Reverie which gave onto the corridor that led back to the common areas, the craft gallery, the courtyards and upwards. That was the direction that Juni would need to take. He caught Nevin giving him a look as he walked past the central batch ovens, but the Master Glassworker, who pretty much ruled the Reverie like a king in this mini-kingdom, only watched him pass. Juni knew that, busy as he was, Nevin would get around to eventually speaking with Selek about what had happened. Juni only hoped that Twig would be spared any real tongue lashing – or worse. With his thoughts so distracted, Juni was caught off guard, slightly, as Krys appeared by his side rather suddenly. She had slipped away, back to her work, he assumed. Apparently, he was mistaken.

Still, he didn’t automatically assume that she was planning on accompanying him. It was a rather long trek up to the infirmary tucked away up under the aeries. So, thinking that it was merely coincidental that their paths were heading in the same direction, and well content for that, Juni thought he might try one more time to thank Krys for her spontaneous assistance. Beyond that, he figured she would be veering off to some other errand soon enough, which was a shame. He’d kind of like the chance to talk to her. A burnt had was a good entrée, even if it hurt like hell.

“Hey, Krys,” he said by way of greeting. “That was really good of you to help us out like that. Thanks again.” OK, that was probably enough of the gratitude. There were only just so many ways to say thank you. They were already exiting the Reverie, and he paused, not knowing which direction she would choose along the main corridor. “Where are you headed?” He splashed his hand in the bucket a bit. “If you’re going up, we could walk a bit together. If you don’t mind being seen with a guy with his hand in a bucket.” He smiled, though he didn’t look at her directly.

[Krysanthe]

Krysanthe said not a word as he passed by Nevin casting him a somewhat judgmental glare. Krys had come inches away from losing her apprenticeship at a time that felt like yesterday, although it had to have been almost a year ago. Seeing people with that kind of harsh glare in their eye made her uneasy, reminding her of the more negative side of her already negative emotions. When Krysanthe passed the Master Glassworker however, he did not so much as glance at her, assuming that she was merely following the boy out. It was never wise for an injured person to go to the healer’s alone. Who would return the message of their condition if they did not? She did not say a word when he thanked her again. Gratitude almost bothered her. She certainly did not take ‘thank you’s well, for she did not entirely understand why doing something kind was such a big deal. It should be average, normal, not worthy of a thank you. She did not understand gratitude, but what he said next surprised her. In all honesty, Krysanthe was completely caught off guard. It was not the gratitude that confused her, but the fact that he stopped, asking her where she was headed. She had not thought that her intentions were unclear, but she had never really put any thought into it. She supposed that while most people were open books, her stories were locked away behind a thousand layers of steel and locks of different sorts. She was just about as readable as an eroded statue, with no clear intention. The sort of statue that you look at and wonder what purpose it stood. She was the Easter Island Head of the Mizaharian world. Deciding that she did not want to live the rest of her life in a suffocating atmosphere of uncertainty, she made up her mind to speak, no matter how short – and somewhat awkward - her sentences were. “I, uh…” The introverted young girl envied the days when she could come up with dry witted responses as if they were waiting on the tip of her tongue to spring into action. That used to be a contributing reason as to why she never became an avora; she wouldn’t stop burning people in a metaphorical sense. Still, at this moment in time, no witty response arose, and so she flat out stated, “I was intending to help you find a healer, actually.” She wasn’t entirely sure why she felt so ashamed to state the obvious, and it was hard to keep the blood from rushing to her cheeks, causing her to blush against her will. She probably looked like a total idiot, but what else was new?

[Juni]

Juni might have been a bit shy, but he was no dummy. At Krys’ stammered reply, he merely nodded, his face neutral, carefully keeping his eyebrows from shooting up in the surprise that he felt. “Oh, OK, fine.” He replied, his voice friendly yet even, though he was ablaze with both amazement and a sort of rush of warm energy knowing that she meant to accompany him. He didn’t really know Kyrs, any more than any of the other apprentices did. She never seemed to welcome friendly approaches, nor did she seem to have any friends, period. But he had watched her enough to see that she was quick to minimize and deflect any attempts at thanks for any of the small things she might have done for others – just as she had over the ‘rescue’ effort a few minutes ago. So, to overplay her decision to go with him to the healer would have only earned him another cold rebuff – or worse – she might change her mind altogether. So, with the thought that less was more, Juni said nothing else, merely nodding his understanding and turning the right direction down the wide corridor.

With Kyrs walking beside him silently, Juni pondered what lay at the source of the girl’s uneasiness around others, and her stiff, unbending attitude. She was stubborn, that much he knew. Nevin had grumbled about that often enough. Juni tried to think back to the days when he and his twin, Poppy, and the other children in the nursery, and then the school, had played and studied and worked together. He could recall Krys as well as any of the others – and she hadn’t seemed so closed off then. As a child, she had played and smiled and laughed. What had happened to her to transform that pretty little girl to this beautiful but sad and brittle young woman? What now lay under that hard exterior? It put him in mind of the glass he worked day in and day out. The outer surface would cool and harden quickly, while the insides were still hot, soft, malleable. But the whole thing was so fragile – one wrong move and it would crack.

He didn’t want to make that wrong move. But at the same time, he didn’t want to throw away this unlooked for opportunity either. Carefully, he assessed what might be a safe topic to talk about as they walked along, the water sloshing about in the bucket, the corridor here much cooler than the Reverie ever was. Thinking it best to steer clear of any talk of their work, Juni searched for a timely comment that wouldn’t seem overly friendly or mildly threatening, to her shell. The conversation that he had been engaged in with Twig earlier leapt to mind.

“Twig tells me the Underground Forest has come into bloom. Yay for that, right?” His voice held amusement. “Personally, I can never get enough of that blue mold – better than lobster, in my book.” Juni made a wry face, expressing his true feelings about the stuff. Blue mold and the other noxious comestibles harvested down below might have kept Wind Reach from starvation, but that didn’t mean he had to appreciate the disgusting taste of most of them.

“Have you ever been down there?” he asked, as they headed up the first of many sets of stairs that lay on their route to the informary.

[Krysanthe]

The ‘brittle’ and ‘glass-like’ woman took note of this man’s behavior, how he carefully stepped around her ‘fragile’ emotions. It touched her, truly, that someone could care enough to be careful about what they say, and it was worth noticing, although she did not make any sort of comment about it. She could tell when people were treating her differently. Krys did feel somewhat uneasy, however, for she almost felt as if Juni was crawling under her skin. How should he know what to say and how to act? Was she really that much of an open book? Also, his caution and restraint also set her on edge. Often, Krys regretted her own insecurities, envying other personalities. She watched people laughing, talking, joking, smiling. She wished that could be her, but she stopped finding things funny a long time ago. She stopped trusting people as friends a long time ago. She envied the bonds that would last a lifetime. She had a burning jealousy towards the Endals. She wanted what they had, but she was too afraid to reach out and get it for herself. When you have been lifted up so far that you can touch the stars, only to be dropped and left behind, you learn not to ever be built up again. You learn to fear any friendship, any relationship, any happiness, for all that it will lead to is being dropped. Her logic is simple: you don’t need to be afraid of falling if you are never lifted up. Feeling good about herself, well, it was not comfortable for her. Having someone care enough to watch what he said, well, it made her wonder about the future. She started regretting coming with Juni. She should have just finished her beads. Why did she come here anyways? Why did she need to come with him? He was eighteen, just as she was. They had grown up together and she knew no more about him than his name, yet she was certain he could handle himself. He clearly knew more about her than she knew of him, and it bothered her. She wanted to know what he knew. She wanted what he had. But again, she was too afraid of hope. When all hope has lead to storms, you learn to leave it behind. You would be surprised as to how hard that is. At the mention of the underground forest blooming, Krys nearly tripped over the first step. She quickly regained her balance, continuing on as if nothing had happened. She had not realized how quiet it had been between the two until Juni spoke up again. Had she really been that lost in her thoughts that it had not crossed her mind to say a word? Her mind instantly flashed to her envy, yet Juni’s comment about the blue mold snapped her back into reality. She almost smiled. Almost. Not quite. When asked if she had ever been to the magnificent day of life and joy, Krysanthe’s face lit up. Her eyes held a little undertone of life as she thought of the new life under their feet. Still, this bit of light did not last for more than an instant. When Krys was happy, her happiness was much like lighting a match. With a flick of your wrist, you light the match, and for a moment, only one sunlit moment, there is a blaze of magnificent fire. As quickly as it appears, it flickers away, turning into but a small cap of light around the top of the match. It was only a matter of time before her excitement disappeared, leaving behind a crisp, ashy remain. Either that or burn the fingers of the one that had lit it. Juni already had the burnt hands physically, so why not metaphorically to match? Still, although it was not as bright as the moment after the question was asked, Krys was still excited. She had forgotten completely about the Underground Forest. It was a pleasant surprise. Wanting to answer Juni’s question, Krys scratched at her brain for a memory, for the last time she went there. It was a few years ago. She went with a man she had been showing around. It was her new neighbor in fact, a stranger who she had offered to give a sort of tour. It was a trade, really. A tour for his trade. Not a bad deal at all. She tried not to let the memory escalate into anything more than that, for deep down she knew it would. That memory is really where it all began. She stopped her thought process short, and responded with “Yeah, I have been there before. More than once, actually. I just find it so… strange. You know what I mean?” She thought of the eerie lighting and giant mushrooms, casting large shadows about the room in a manner that makes them almost seem alive. The luminous fungus fascinated her. She could do without the stench of guano and irritating (and occasionally deadly) insects, but she loved going down there. It was so dark, so quiet, so… As she said, so strange. Most people think of the Underground Forest being a place for minors and treasure hunters. Krys was neither of these. The traveler she had been showing around was just someone who took refuge and comfort in darkness. The Underground Forest was a perfect fit. When she went in for the first time, she was struck with awe. Something about that place intrigued her. She wasn’t like most women. She didn’t care for the light and frilly nonsense of bright and happy things. Sure, they were fun every once in a while. Who didn’t love a teddy bear and pretty flowers? Still, there was nothing like the mystery of the darkness. When you live your life in a world that feels entirely unknown, you take comfort in knowing that there are other unknown things in the world. The Underground Forest is vastly unexplored. This mystery made her excited, and although there was a sort of sarcastic amusement in his tone, she was not joking when she stated, “I haven’t been down there in a few years. Maybe I should check it out later…” She was thinking out loud, not really intending to speak. The statement was not entirely directed at Juni, and, in the spirit of being honest, she had not realized the words escaped her. She still didn’t look at him.

[Juni]

He noticed the little stumble – how could he not? She was right beside him. But even if he could have reached out a hand to steady her – which he couldn’t because of the bucket – he didn’t know that he would have. His hesitation wouldn’t stem from indifference, of course. He just didn’t think she’d appreciate him making it so clear that he had noticed – that he was paying attention to her. And Krys was not one to ever ask for help herself. Juni didn’t know if she’d even accept a helping hand.

Her answer to his innocent question, though, seemed more animated than the other few words she had spoken so far – at least to Juni’s mind they were. Her expression too was a bit less constrained, her features more mobile. He thought the change was a good one, and he wondered if and how he could bring it about again. Attributing this possibly brief spark of interest to exactly what she was alluding to – the utterly alien feel of the odd, underground forest – Juni thought briefly of his own venturings down there, most in the company of Balsalm. When he had been chatting with Twig about it earlier, he had said the two of them should go and take part in the quasi-celebration, much as the older apprentice had first introduced Juni to the mysteries of the dark caverns under their city. Krys’ intimation that she might be going seemed like a god-send - one that Juni could hardly allow to pass by. Another might be a long, long time in the coming.

Reaching the top of the stairs, they turned to their left into a slightly narrower corridor. Juni swallowed, trying to overcome his nervousness and make his voice sound calm. For the most past, he succeeded, as he said casually, “I told Twig I’d take him down this evening, after work. Maybe we’ll see you there. Or . . . we could go together, if you want. If – if you don’t have any other plans.”

He ventured a quick glance at her as they walked along, wondering what in the world she would make of his suggestion – hoping against hope that by some miracle she might just say, “OK, sure,” or something equally as casual as his offer had been meant to sound. But, then again, Krys was not known for her casual amiability.

[Krysanthe]

Krysanthe was, in a word, detached. She always was. Never a day went by when her mind wasn’t wandering to other lands during the middle of a conversation. She always found it hard to stay focused (partially because she was never really one for eye contact, although when she does look someone in the eye, although her focus improves, it is still possible for her mind to wander). Her thoughts were always scattered and moving, like a bird trying to fly for the first time. After the very mention of the underground forest, it came to be that the underground forest itself was the only thing of which she could think of. She hadn’t been there in what felt to her like ages. Most people lacked the ability to see the beauty in the large mushrooms, exotic smells and deadly, almost grotesque creatures. Krysanthe did. She saw the beauty and the excitement. Despite the danger and odor, she loved the underground forest. She hadn’t been born with the ability to see it as beautiful. The first time she saw it she immediately turned around and left. It had taken an unexpected lesson from an unexpected teacher to show her exactly where the beauty lay hidden beneath the slimy surface. Other than the sloshing of the bucket and the dull thuds of their feet on stone, Krysanthe really didn’t hear Juni at first. It took her a moment to realize he had said anything, and another moment all together to realize what he had said. It was a question. An invitation. An offer. Krysanthe’s goldenrod eyes left the hall before them and turned to inspect Juni as if to see if he was serious. Krys couldn’t remember the last time she had been invited to something, in person, from another human being. It wasn’t a generic note or a pity invitation so she wouldn’t feel left out from a group festivity. It wasn’t a dare and it wasn’t a bet. It was far more rare than that. It was a genuine, pure, meaningful invitation. Krys’s first instinct almost got the best of her, for she almost spat out ‘no thank you’ immediately, as had become her habit. For this particular young lad, however, she held herself back. The very thought of actually accepting an offer such as this almost scared Krysanthe. She was afraid of the opportunity to actually get to know someone again. What if they got to be friends? The prospect concerned her. From her experience, friendships more frequently lead to failure than happiness. Krys almost stopped walking simply out of lack of response, but instead, she only turned her head ever so slightly, looking at the man for the first time since they had started walking. Her goldenrod eyes rested on him for a moment, as if waiting to hear the punch line, as if waiting for him to say he was just kidding. Upon finding that there was no such sign, she looked back down the hallway. Her mouth was dry. It took her a moment to get the nerve up to speak. She couldn’t remember the last time she had been invited to anything like this. She didn’t question why people really didn’t spring to hang out with her anymore. I would guess it’s because I never say yes, she thought, practically reprimanding herself. I never say yes for a reason. What makes this time so different? Going against her better judgment, Krys simply replied, “Well, uh, sure. I mean, well, I guess I’m not really doing anything. ” If nothing else, at least this way she could go to the underground forest. Krysanthe may not be known for her ‘casual amiability’, but she had been isolating herself for so long that an invitation like this, in her mind, could not possibly be anything other than a casual, almost practical endeavor. It was unwise to travel in the underground forest alone with the man-eating bats and poisonous insects, among other things. Suddenly, Krysanthe remembered a fact that she could not believe she overlooked. Knowing that it would be worth mentioning, with a very small flick of her hand, Krys motioned to the bucket. “I mean, if you are up for it.”