CYRDEL SONASSON, heir apparent to the Alkaran Throne, is a budding inventor against the wishes of his father, the King. But when a friend from the Inventor's District needs help, he has to drop everything and come to their aid, even going as far as...
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2410 Crescin 01, Reshpe
Cyrdel revelled in the way their soles scratched against the cobblestones. It was the only way to distract himself from staring at Ravalee every second that passes between them. And she was expectedly bright today, with her orange bow tying the upper half of her hair and her rust-colored dress hanging limp to her knees. Her hazelnut brown eyes scanned the same shops and huts with the same spark in them.
He tucked his hands behind him as they walked in comfortable silence. The Crafting District sped by them in its usual activity, lost in their own world. Warm breeze tickled his face and the back of his neck but today wasn't as obnoxious as the days when the rain took too long to pour. He glanced up at the sky. It was brighter than any of the days he had been out with Ravalee. The absence of clouds shielding the morning sunlight was enough to tell him it wouldn't rain anytime soon.
Had the universe conspired to help him have a good day with a friend? It sure felt like it.
"So, where do you want to go?" Cyrdel asked aloud despite the raging current of his thoughts. He had bartered on the losing side with his father just to get one day out of the palace without thinking of his tutors or being forced to attend court proceedings. "We could try out the haagen place next time. Or the beeo one."
Or we could just go to the sarkerpan place you've wanted to try out. Ravalee signed as a response. Cyrdel raised an eyebrow, watching her tell him about the time she caught him staring at the way it was prepared by the brownies in one of the dining huts they passed by. It's almost a wonder how fast Ravalee and Airene learned and developed the language of signs. He even ended up being tutored on some gestures they came up with when Cyrdel would go home during the night. Most days, Cyrdel would come up with more words to sign, even prod around with syntax and grammar, and he would get Airene and Ravalee's input on what to revise.
The signs revolved around the use of both hands and some parts of the body like the face, chest, elbows, and shoulders and, just recently, Cyrdel had thought about giving each letter in the Keijula koset its own gesture. It'd help Ravalee in spelling out words they couldn't come up with gestures in the meantime. It's a problem they kept running into throughout the years.
Eventually, though, it became easier to communicate with the signs. Cyrdel sometimes used it himself when he didn't want anyone within their vicinity to have any context of what they're saying. It's fun to confuse the passing merchants or the shop owners that way.
His world swayed when he felt a heavy hand on his shoulder. He turned to Ravalee who glanced up and waved her hand around her face. It's a sign for, spacing out? Or you're not paying attention. He gave her an apologetic smile before shedding Ravalee's hand off his shoulder. "Sorry," he said. "Had some thoughts in my mind. Too many of them, in fact."
Ravalee raised an eyebrow. Her hands moved to sign, Inventing, again? Or was it your parents' demands?
"More of the latter," Cyrdel blew a breath. He didn't tell Ravalee anything beyond having arguments with his parents about pursuing a business in inventing. She didn't know the parents he was talking about were the King and Queen of the territory they were standing on, Alkara. "But I'll figure it out. I'm sorry for being distracted when I should be spending time with you."
