The Circle

Ringfinger

"Hey, Johnny-boy, I've forgot to ask- but what's with the ring?" Isaic asked one evening.

The pair were sitting on the roof on deck chairs during a particularly sunny London day (whenever one actually exists, granted), cold beers in hand and sunglasses on heads.

Johnny tensed, and looked at the object on his left hand's ringfinger, his mind flashing back to other times. But he relaxed slightly, and took another sip of his beer. He trusted Isaic, on this topic at least, to not tell anyone. "Well, it started a while ago-" he conceded, beginning his story...

---
A classroom, summertime.

The boy sat, chin in one hand as he looked, uninterested at the school complex outside, curved buildings of bright white marble across a sky of dark jade. Familiar sights. Classmates around him talked about the war, the King and his sons (some actually glanced at him about that area of interest, to check he wouldn't be offended) and the state of the other planets. Boring day. The boy considered making another small sun in his hand, but his teacher told him it posed a threat to school safety last time he 'demonstrated' his powers, and his father had to tell him off for it. Someone stood up beside the seat next to him, but he didn't turn around. Until the person tapped the desk a few times. He turned around, to look up and see her for the first time, attempting to keep up a scared, nervous smile.

Night-black hair, with smooth, flawless skin of white cream and distinctive eyes of red. While undeniably beautiful, she seemed to keep her posture centred inwards, scared that people will take offence to her being around him. It's the eyes, he realised. Red eyes, in tradition, meant that she was born and given life from a death. Her mother must have died during childbirth. Unnatural, as it is theoretically impossible in their biology, but not uncommon- and certainly evident, physically. The upper-class society look down upon these 'Unborn', although they are still treated as normal citizens by the state and courts.

He smiled back reassuringly, and she awkwardly bowed quickly, blushing a colour similar to her hair. "Uh, umm, is-is this seat taken, sir- mr- my p-prince?" she stammered out. The rest of the class snickered and gossiped, putting bets on what he'd do. But he just smiled awkwardly and scratched his head. "You're welcome to it, miss...?" he replied. Sighing in relief, she quickly sat down next to him, glancing about the room before answering him.

"Seraphim, but Sera for short" the girl said.

"Ceres Kadillus" the boy followed up, flashing his signature grin.

---

A spacious dorm for rich students, winter holidays. Late evening.

The boy and the girl were the only ones inside, one lying across his bed, bored, and the other casually flicking through a History book at his desk. They both had families to go home to, although clearly neither wanted to.

Eventually the girl spoke up.

"Don't you need to be learning this stuff, for, you know, ruling?" she asked, taking notes on a particular subject as she spoke.

"No, because I have both a dad and dal'threk of an older brother with superpowers who would have the throne before me, duh" the boy replied sarcastically, making the girl chuckle at his colloquial cussing.

Suddenly she looked up through his window, as brass bells began to sound off and a great cheer echoed in the distance. "Jooliet's Dance!" she giggled gleefully, jumping forward and pulling him off the bed, much to his dismay. Slapping on a voxbox to tunes from the Terran '80s', she began to 'boogie' like the people by the bells were in town to their own music.

"What are you doing?" he asked, confused, only to be swept away and forced to poorly dance to the tunes of Terra's 'Michael Jackson'.

"It's Jooliet's Dance! Any couple of random people have to dance today, to celebrate her light of happiness!" she yelled over 'Billie Jean'. Smiling, he decided to oblige her for the one song.

Then the next.

And the next ten.

Eventually they stopped when the bells kneeled for a second time, signalling the end of the event. Together they collapsed on his bed, smiling and heavily panting, hair disheveled. He turned off the voxbox with a wave of his hand, his powers doing the rest. She began to take off her ring, struggling a bit before finally prying it loose. He raised an eyebrow. He thought it was just a fashion statement for young ladies to wear wooden rings, but soon she was placing it in the palm of his own hand.

"What's this for? Have I been a good boy this year?" he scoffed, once again confused.
"Haha, you joker. It's to signify that a girl has danced in the event, thus the removal, and a boy has been danced with, thus the giving" she informed him, pushing back her red hair.

He smiled, placing the ring on his left hand, and admired it a little bit. Something told him he wouldn't be taking it off in a while...

---

"Nice play, guy, I'd never thought you had it in you!" Isy joked, as he reached for around for another beer. Inside, he sighed in relief at the end of the story, thinking he touched a nerve when he asked his alien friend.

"But, wait, what happened to her after-" he started, but stopped suddenly. Johnny had disappeared, leaving his shirt on his chair.

Seems like I've touched on a sensitive topic about the whole thing after all, Isy pondered sadly, using his hidden blade to remove the cap of his second bottle.

Perhaps I shouldn't tell Ellin and the gang after all.