Veriel

Chapter 5

The girl's laugh had sounded for only a few moments, but echoed in Veriel's ears throughout the rest of the day. Music. 

Before Titus had very literally dragged her away like a caveman, Veriel had stared into her eyes, and somehow, though she didn't speak, he had known. Known that she, too, felt the mysterious rope which tied them together, urging them toward a beautiful unknown.

She would be there tonight.

For the rest of the day, he did as young people do and devoted profound amounts of mental energy toward concocting elaborate, far-fetched scenarios of the future. Preparation was essential, for when she arrived, each second needed to be dedicated to courtship.

To begin planning this courtship display, he made a list of his skills: swimming, trinket-finding, gift-giving, appreciation of edible things. Second, he desperately brainstormed creative ways to pad his scant résumé. Third, he arranged a schedule.

Following a masterful display of his underwater athleticism, he would bestow the fork upon her, and they would kiss again, and General Tullus Auranius would vaporize, and unfettered joy would abound everywhere forever and ever, huzzah.

When the chill of evening snuck into the air and dying light began to brush the undersides of the clouds, his heartbeat sped to a concerning rate. Fork in hand, he puttered from end to end of the pool, poking his head of the water out every few seconds to see if she was close.

Just after sunset, a lady's voice caught his attention, though he quickly determined that it wasn't hers. Mrs. General Tullus Auranius walked alongside a few women, talking about young humans and the maintenance required to keep such beings alive.

After darkness settled, another set of footsteps made him perk up, but once again, he found himself driven to grumbles. The shadowed form of Vinius Auranius shot past, hand-in-hand with some wild-haired boy whom Veri didn't recognize, both of them laughing. Not for the first time, he envied humans' ability to lace their fingers together so intimately, unimpeded by webbing.

When the moon appeared in the sky, a great stomping was heard. However, someone had apparently deemed tonight to be the parade of all people Veriel was uninterested in seeing, for the stomper was General Tullus Auranius. 

Cape billowing behind him, left eyebrow askew, the general waved a displeased hand at the sky and ranted at his most trusted guard. "Preposterous, I say. Simply preposterous!"

Marcus the guard took a long inhale from his most trusted pipe. "Preposterous or not, it's happening. If they've reached the northern coast of Gallick, he'll be here in a few days at the most."

"They've no reason to send anyone. Everything I've ever done, I've done perfectly. Not once have I bungled anything." 

With this, Marcus (and most of the world, really) did not agree, but he kept his tongue busy with the creation of smoke rings.

"I want you by her door again tonight," ordered the general. "I won't have her get hurt or cause scandal before the Emperor's Hand arrives. Make sure she doesn't go off exploring in places that aren't suitable for young ladies. You know, hallways and the like."

"Ah, yes, heavens forbid a girl walk in a hallway."

Veriel watched them depart, wondering what Gallick was and what the appeal was of filling one's lungs with smoke and how a hand was traveling by itself.

One hour. Two. Three hours passed after the general retired indoors, and the girl with the toes made no appearance. There were many hours of moonlight yet to come, but Veriel's fragile ember of hope began to fizzle nonetheless.