For she’d been one of the many Pearlian soldiers trapped in the city. That had been theonlyreason I’d even considered doing what I’d done. To free her. And she could never know. If she did, she’d turn from me in disgust, as any rational person would. I could never forgive myself for what I’d done, so how could she?
“Daz?”
The soft voice — not Dizzy’s — startled me, even though I’d sensed someone coming. I didn’t have to look to know it was Avela. Not only did I know her voice well, but I felt her colors. She was mostly orange and yellow with layers of lime and green, and various threads of red, sienna, blue, violet, even black. Black wasn’t common for most people. Avela, however had dark secrets from her past, which had left their mark upon her spirit.
Dizzy and I knew some of her story, that she’d worked for a brothel for a time before catching the waning sickness and being tossed out into the street. That had been where Shorine had found her. The elderly shepherdess had brought Avela here and had nursed her back to health. We didn’t need to know details, but it was clear she’d had a harsh life before she’d come to live with us.
“Are you well?” she asked with concern.
“I am,” I said, forcing my voice to be strong. “It’s been a tiring day, though.”
“Take a break then. Come, have some cool water from the well. Sit with me in the shade and rest.”
That sounded wonderful. I quickly shifted my colors and dried the few tears I’d shed. I stood and followed her down thepath to the shaded trees on the other side of the juniper grove. There we sat and she drew some water from a bucket into small cups for us.
It was easy to talk to Avela. I had no attachments to her. I could be myself. Though, I did feel her reds and siennas swell. She liked me, was attracted to me. I was flattered, but I tried not to encourage such things. My heart belonged to Dizzy.
When she put her hand on my leg, I removed it gently.
She sighed and her reds and siennas faded. “You… should tell her how you feel,” she said softly.
I nodded. Avela was perceptive, I wasn’t surprised she knew how I felt about Dizzy. I just wish Dizzy knew.
“I know. I just don’t know how.”
“Just… say it.” She rose from the bench we’d been sitting on and knelt before me taking my hand. Her voice grew soft and solemn. “I love you,” she said… and she meant it. Thatshe— Avela — lovedme. Then she released my hand and rose quickly a pleasant smile on her face, the seriousness gone and her true feelings hidden. “Like that.”
“Easy for you, but?—”
“No Daz,” she said, the seriousness returning. “That wasn’t easy at all.” She turned away, heading for the small caretaker’s house next to the barn. Her aura shifted to muddled browns and the aching black of sorrow and confused sadness.
I sighed. I hadn’t been thinking. Of course it hadn’t been easy for her to say she loved me when she knew I didn’t love her in return.
I’d messed up.
I hadn’t considered her feelings. Here I was, with so much power, but I still had no clue how to talk to people. That was one of the reasons I didn’t want to tell Dizzy any of this. What if I said the wrong thing?
What if I drove her away?
The other reason was, even assuming I said everything right… if Dizzy didn’t feel the same way, then I’d feel as dejected and devastated as Avela had been just now.
I sighed again. Today was not going well at all.
The voices and sounds of occasional combat in the yard had stopped. I couldn’t see the yard from this bench, so I rose and made my way along beside the garden, down the path back to the cottage.
The yard was empty.
I paused before I opened the door to the cottage, feeling Dizzy approaching from the other side, her aura like a soothing balm around me as it encompassed me.
The door opened and there she was… wrapped in a towel and nothing more.
“Oh! Daz! I was going to have a bath.”
Yes, that was obvious.
“Care to join me?”
Not going to happen.
