The Essence of Balencia

The Psithurism

Mareeb had become one of the rare few to slip through the iron gates of Lalzari’s heart, a heart encased in ice for most of the world. She kept her circle small, like a speck of dust that could vanish in a blink, and to those outside, she appeared cold—an untouchable force. Yet, for the chosen few who knew her, they saw the tender cracks beneath her icy exterior, where the fragile flickers of vulnerability lay hidden. Now, as Mareeb stood before her, his fingers laced together in nervousness, Lalzari felt a weight settle deep within her chest, like a stone sinking in still waters.

"Omid... My cousin is in the kingdom," Mareeb’s voice came soft, almost a breath carried on the wind. "I haven’t seen him in years. Omid, can I take them to the room and spend some time with them?" His plea lingered in the air, as fragile as a spider’s thread.

Lalzari’s heart twisted, a storm of emotions brewing within her. I thought he was alone. I thought I was the only one. Dark thoughts coiled around her like snakes, before she shook them off, forcing herself back into the present.

"Of course, invite them!" she said quickly, the words tumbling out before the shadow of her hesitation could show. Could she ever deny him such a request? As heavy as it felt, she reminded herself to think of her own moments of longing, times when she'd have given anything to see Jamshar, mama, or Melaniee again. How could she begrudge him this chance, when she would have wished the same?

Time passed, and Mareeb returned, his face bathed in a light she rarely saw. He wore a smile so bright, it seemed to pour warmth into every corner of the room, chasing away the shadows. He looked truly happy, a joy she hadn’t seen him wear in her presence. He’s never that happy with me, she thought, the bitterness creeping in like an uninvited guest.

Behind him, his cousin followed, a shadowy reflection of Mareeb, tall and slender, his dark hair a curtain that veiled his eyes. There was a quiet, almost shy aura about him, like a bird perched on the edge of a branch, ready to flee at the slightest disturbance. Mareeb guided his cousin to a corner of the room, where a partition stood like a barrier between them and Lalzari. He closed it without a word.

Lalzari’s chest tightened. She had hoped for a proper introduction, or at the very least, a simple thank you. After everything she had done for Mareeb... He’s young, she reminded herself, the words a weak balm to her wounded pride. Maybe he didn’t think that far. Yet the ache lingered, like a bruise that wouldn’t fade.

Through the narrow cracks of the partition, Mareeb’s laughter spilled out like a fragrant smoke, curling and dancing in the air. It wasn’t the polite, measured laugh she was used to, but a true, deep belly laugh. Lalzari had never heard him laugh like that before, so unguarded, so free. Each burst of joy made her chest tighten as frustration swirled like a tempest within her, though she kept it locked behind a mask of indifference. Better to keep it hidden then show her embarrassment.

Time trickled by, each moment stretching longer than the last, and still, their laughter and conversation drifted through the room, like the never-ending murmur of a distant stream. Lalzari couldn’t make out the words, but it sounded as though they were sharing memories, stories of a past she wasn’t part of. The distance between them grew with every word she couldn’t hear, every laugh she wasn’t a part of. She missed him, missed the closeness that had once filled the space between them. That was why she had asked for Mareeb as her personal servant in the first place. She, the battle-worn warrior, had been alone for so long, craving companionship like a desert thirsts for rain. And for a time, she had it, his presence, his warmth. But now, it felt like that gift had been snatched away, quicker than it had come.