chapter eighteen

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CORDELIA FROWNED.

The previously bright sky had darkened significantly, now covered by throngs of thick gray clouds. She could practically smell the rain in the air, the scent getting thicker by the minute before finally, after all that teasing, a single freezing drop of water fell from the heavens.

"Oh," Zale muttered, his palms outstretched as another raindrop fell into his grasp and kissed his skin. "We should quicken our pace. The rain won't cause you to... you know... grow a tail, right?"

Brushing back a strand of stray hair and tucking it behind her ear, Cordelia resisted a laugh. "No," she shook her head, "only when I'm submerged in saltwater."

The soft rain grew heavier, water splashing against their bare ankles whenever they stepped a little too hard in a puddle. Even though it was a nuisance to many, the two still frolicked about in the rain, relishing in the somewhat comforting feeling of cool droplets against their skin. It seemed as though they were home once more; for Zale, there was nothing he loved more than sailing the seven seas in search for adventure; for Cordelia, the ocean had been her home for too long a time after she fell victim to death.

"Over there!" Zale exclaimed, pointing to a little storefront that had been closed for the day.

The doors were locked shut and no one was managing the shop. Despite that, the small canopy that hung near the entrance of the shop served plenty well as temporary shelter from the growing onslaught of the rain.

As they ducked underneath, Cordelia reached for the hems of her dress, squeezing the rainwater out of the fabric just a little so as to reduce the weight. With water in her clothing, it would be easier for her to stay hydrated. However, it was also much heavier than usual.

"It was raining this heavily too when my father gave me the medallion," Zale idly commented, peering out at the streets and watching as townsfolk dashed into shelters. "It was a long time ago and yet somehow, I seem to be able to remember the scene awfully well."

"Your father? Are we meeting him, then?" Cordelia's back hunched as she leaned forward a little, just enough to look at Zale's face as he spoke.

The man's face darkened significantly. "No. Some dead do not return to the world of the living. You're a special exception."

In response to that, the siren winced a little.

"Why do I see nothing special to it?" Cordelia sighed heavily. "Even after death I was not granted peace. What do I need to do to obtain what I was promised?"

"If you're not dead, it means that there is still a purpose in you being alive. I see that as a good thing, since you can change a world's worth of difference with your own two hands."

Zale's face was achingly close, painfully there, and Cordelia felt her breath hitch. She didn't even know when he had leaned in, or when she herself had moved so close to his face. Her fingers which were rested on the fabric of her dress twisted the material, squeezing them together so tightly even her own knuckles turned white.

With such a close proximity, Cordelia was not the only one affected by the sudden bout of what seemed like a bewitching spell. Zale's eyes watched as long dark eyelashes fluttered with each blink before staying still completely, hovering in the air with her eyes opened painfully wide. The storm in her eyes cleared, revealing a bright silver, the same kind that tinted linings of clouds during a bright day. If her eyes were the clouds, her hair was the dark twilight that framed it.

It seemed too cruel, almost, to have someone so young, so beautiful as if she were a work of art, to die so horribly. Her entire life was thrown away because of one mishap and now, she was brought back to life without a proper home to return to.

"If I hadn't died," Cordelia started, pausing when she took in a deep breath, "if I hadn't died I wouldn't have met and saved you. Is that what you mean?"

"I doubt I'm worth a world's worth of difference," Zale humored.

Without missing a beat, Cordelia replied, "you now are. To me, at least."

Just like that, they were snapped out of the spell, both withdrawing so sharply that Zale's back, for one, slammed into the wooden door of the shop. He tilted his head back, forcing his eyes shut for a few seconds before opening them again slowly.

The rain took pity on them and it started to fall a little slower before stopping completely. The last drops of rain descended, hitting the ground before blending into the already-formed puddles. The crowd started to come alive once more, people scurrying out of their homes to return to their daily lives.

With the disappearance of the rain, so did the events that happened mere minutes ago. Both parties silently buried them, allowing them to pass like the fleeting weather. No further questions were asked, all reserved in their own hearts for no one else's ears.

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