Day and Night ✔️

Part 2: Coal

The next morning, as Coal waved goodbye to the fading stars from his vantage point in the branches of an old oak tree, he was admittedly rather distracted from his work— a sensation he had never experienced until now. Sure, he looked forward to his daily sunrise escapades, but they had never affected him like this before.

He knew exactly why things were different today, too. It was that confounded Light Bringer, with her vibrant, loquacious personality and earnest plea for further conversation. Why he was so excited about seeing her again, he would never know.

Interacting with Ember was breaking every single rule that had been engraved into his mind since he was a small Watcher-in-training. It went against his very nature; it was imprudent enough to be out past curfew, but to be talking to a Light Bringer was downright dangerous. Yet his curious side had to admit that he had felt oddly... warm for the past day. He didn't know quite what to make of that, but ultimately that warmth was what drove him to the same spot under the daffodils at dawn.

He took a seat in the leaf-chair and waited, trying— and failing— to look as if he wasn't waiting at all. In an attempt to calm himself and curb his nervous anticipation, he leaned back and folded his arms, closing his eyes for a brief moment; it had been a busier night than usual, with the stars arguing amongst themselves and all the crickets and owls cross. Coal was tired, so very tired, and wondered why he insisted on staying out past his bedtime...

"Coal, what'cha doin'?"

His eyes flew open, and he was nearly blinded by the flicker of a flame mere centimeters away from his face. With an involuntary scream of surprise (that he would deny for as long as he lived), he scrambled to his feet and backed away. "Ember! Control your hair, please!"

The Light Bringer let out a blithe laugh and obligingly ran a hand over her wild flaming curls, only succeeding in holding them down for a total of three seconds. "Sorry 'bout that. Did I wake you up?"

"It was a long night," he muttered crossly, trying to regain his composure.

"Seems like it," she quipped, alighting on the ground and stepping over to her own leaf. "I'm kinda surprised you came," she admitted frankly. "I spent half the day yesterday wondering if you really would and the other half trying to convince myself that you would. It made me dizzy!"

Coal was definitely not about to tell her about the warmth, so he said only, "I keep my word."

Ember nodded approvingly and clasped her hands over her knees. "Good. I like that about you. Light Bringer boys are so wishy-washy, it's frustrating. I may be impulsive but at least I stick with decisions once I've made them!"

He cracked a smile at that, and she fairly beamed. "I always feel extraordinarily accomplished whenever I manage to make you smile. You should really try it more often; it makes your face handsome." As soon as the words flew out of her mouth her cheeks turned a rosy red. "I mean, not that you're not handsome anyway— wait, I'm not implying— oh, merciful goodness!" She buried her head in her hands in mortification.

"I know what you mean; thank you," he said, handing her a lifeline and mentally filing away the fact that she thought him handsome.

As the sun rose up over a baby blue sky, they talked of "ships and sealing wax, of cabbages and kings", until Coal was forced to slip away with another promise of meeting at the same time the next morning.

The rest of the golden days of summer slipped by in a similar vein; the two had a routine now, and became good friends over the course of their sunrise tete-a-tetes.

One morning in mid-July, Coal was beginning to grow slightly concerned as he waited in his leaf-seat; the sun was rising, and Ember was several minutes late— and Ember was a surprisingly punctual sprite. He was just about to go looking for her when presently she came drifting down beside him, rather subdued. Her ever-present glow had faded, and her mouth curved downward in a frown— since when was Ember sad? In the month and a half that he'd known her, Coal had gotten a glimpse of a wide variety of emotions, but had never seen her in such a state— and he immediately decided that he didn't like it.

"Sorry, I was at a Light Bringer meeting. They changed my shift," she announced by way of greeting, drawing her knees up to her chest and resting her chin on them in a girlish manner. "My faction's been moved to mid-afternoon. I never thought I'd be sad to lose the sunrise shift."

"What?" Coal threw her a disbelieving glance.

"It's true." She sighed deeply. "This means we won't be able to watch sunrises together anymore. It'd be too suspicious for me to be up at sunrise when I don't have to be for work."

Coal struggled to keep his disappointment from showing on his face. "Is there another time we could meet?"

She lifted her head and cocked it slightly, looking very much like a curious puppy. "Well, I still go out at dusk. Do you ever venture out then?"

He frowned in thought. "Dusk for me is like dawn for you; it would be risky, but I'm willing to give it a try if that's the only way we can still communicate."

For the first time that morning, Ember smiled and a bit of her radiance returned. "And this is why you're my best friend."