The Rokkoh Adventures

Rokkoh and the Final Year, Chapter 7

Late afternoons of stargazing on the beach transition into brief walks in the snow and fireside book reading in the library. The typical seasonal shift, only now Kym and I sit closer. Sometimes she leans into my body while my arm drapes around her shoulders, other times my lap becomes her footrest. Through it all, no matter what position we take on the divan, there is a comfortable wordless happiness between us. Similar to the feeling before the night of the trip to Allendar, but stronger, warmer, more addictive. As the winter winds blow and the snow piles up outside the Tower, as my days dwindle with the fading reclusive sun, I need her more and more. Every second spent away from her is another second closer to the day I ride the carriage to Allendar alone to begin my adult life. As we inch day by day to that departure, we in turn inch toward a stretch of months before she and Max are free of the Tower. We cannot waste time, not now that this vulnerable honesty binds our souls evermore into that wondrous storybook destiny.

Max, to my surprise, pays no mind to the romantic development. Sometimes he even encourages it. On more than one occasion, he has offered to give us space or disappeared unannounced. But on the days where he finds something else to occupy his attention, there is often a hint of some hidden intention. He tries to keep it under his skin, but every now and then it seeps from his pores and bleeds chartreuse with envy. It infects his energy, pulsating out in waves until he goes off to steal a snack from the pantries or vanishes like an expelled spirit.

Yet through it all, despite the subtly screaming jealousy, there is no malice. On the other side of the coin is glee, relief, an exhale of a long-held breath. Finally, the blind can see, the deaf can hear, the mute can sing. After all this time, all the years spent in our little troupe, Kym and I recognize and accept the special bond between us. Sometimes, when he thinks I'm not watching, a proud little smile graces his lips. How long has he seen it and said nothing? How long has he been waiting for me to hold her hand, to sit beside her, to just be with her? How long has he known but kept the secret to himself?

I hope he can have the same someday. I hope he can find a person whose hand he can hold, someone to sit beside, someone with whom he can simply be. He deserves that more than anyone else I know at the Tower. Perhaps when he sees us together, he thinks of all the time he would spend with Augustin. That camaraderie, that strong connection, that kinship. I have to admit I also find myself missing our fiery friend from time to time, but he and Max were always closer than Augustin was with Kym or me.

In only a few months time, it will be my turn to leave like Augustin did, like all the others do. The twins will remain then, an island lost amongst the ocean. They will be fine, I'm sure of it, but I still worry that Wassim will intensify his harassment once I'm gone. Worry not for Kym or Max, but for the little bastard. Nothing would hold them back, save for the harsh scars on their backs and each other. Maybe one of them will teach Wassim a lesson that will leave the halls of the Tower safer for everyone. One can only hope.

"This book is boring," Max yawns, shutting the tome in his hands with a loud clap. "It's putting me to sleep. I'm going back to the dormitory."

"Don't get lost," Kym says, not taking her eyes off her own pages. It's a blend of sincerity and sarcasm, and I can't tell which side has the majority.

"Don't stay up too late," he tells us as he gets up from his thick stuffed chair. He casts the book onto the short table, its thud enough to wake someone. For a brief second, I catch that bittersweet look in his eyes and weak smirk. But he is gone all too soon, taking his mystery with him.

Kym pulls her feet from my lap and scoots along the chaise until she's next to me. Without breaking away from her book, she takes a gentle hold of my arm and places it around her shoulders. She leans into me, getting comfortable, wordless and serene. Perfect.