When Dewdrop appeared, it was like a part of her soul had returned. But after all that had happened, with her home, her family, her grandmother. It didn't feel right to hold him just yet. To have Dewdrop in her arms meant she had hope again and right now she had anything but.
"I can't hold onto Dewy forever, Sybil. One Armed Amira, remember?" The Nightspell elf said jokingly, attempting to distract the much older jackalope.
Dewdrop was fighting desperately to be reunited with her, his back legs kicking at Amira with all his might but still Sybil wouldn't look at him. She couldn't. It reminded her of too much that had been lost. Too much they both had lost.
"They shouldn't call you that. The High Nightcaster-"
"Rayner can't do anything. He already blames himself enough for what happened. Why else would he visit so often?" Amira interrupted, determined to keep the subject away from her.
Deflection was what Sybil did best after all. That and her lousy temperament. Apparently her short fuse was exceedingly rare in Sunspell elves and was more known for being in Nightspell or Stormspell elves. It was why many people considered her a 'halfling' or mixed race. It wasn't illegal for elves to mix Forecaster races but many elves had been around when it was frowned upon. Including the High Nightcaster.
"He was there to see me." Sybil said in a small voice. "The High Nightcaster was there in the audience when I told my first tale as an official Nightspun apprentice."
Amira almost dropped Dewdrop onto the floor.
"You did? Oh, Syb that's great! You've been trying for decades to get into the Inner Circle! Why didn't you tell me? When was it? How'd it go?"
Standing up she clapped her hands together excitedly, jumping up and down in a blur of glee which made even Sybil smile, just a little. Despite the jackalope's easy escape, Dewdrop simply sat by his Sunspell elf, waiting patiently for her like he knew there was more to the story. There always was.
"It was the night of the last Five Moon dance two months ago. You were sick with Feversun at the time and I only ended up in Bridge's Keep to see Garrett and the Moonlight Troupe perform. I knew you wanted to go and I didn't want to waste the tickets." Sybil explained, recalling the situation quicker than she had levelled the earth.
Just like the Chilling was dangerous to Sunspell elves, Feversun was the same for Nightspell. A reddish fever forming in ghastly red blisters only received from a bout of heatstroke, Feversun only occured when staying up past curfew or a particularly humid night. It was the Windspell elves job to keep the nights cool so the only way Amira had gotten it was by staying up past sunrise.
"Yeah, I saved up that money by selling gurdyshoots after morning bell. I thought the pain would've been worth it to see your face when I got front row seats. I guess not. Who did you invite instead?" Amira said, an embarrassed blush rising on her face.
It was rare for anyone in Floodbound to get the day off. Every elf counted while Sunspell worked in the mornings, Nightspell worked in the evenings and the rest filled in the gaps. Stormspell elves handled the rising water levels while Earthspell elves handled construction and landscaping. No elf strayed from their job. Those who did were drop outs, outcasts or beggars.
"My mom."
Amira's excitement dropped like a stone. She sucked in a breath, sitting down unceremoniously and gathered together a response from the numerous curse words in her repertoire.
"Wow. That must've been...quite the discussion."
Sybil scoffed, wringing her hands together. She debated throwing herself into the canal to avoid this discussion. But Amira was one hell of a swimmer, one arm or not and she would drag her back out from the brink just to hear her story. She'd been like that ever since they were kids and Dewdrop wouldn't have appeared if this wasn't important. He trusted Amira. She had to do the same.
"Yeah, turns out she only went with me because Garrett was there. He was the lead acrobat." Sybil said in disgust, tempted to compare them to being worse than a pile of manure.
But that would be an insult to the food that had been wasted to create it. The Moonlight Troupe were a self taught, popular group of circus performers, acrobats and dancers led by her once swoon worthy crush. He had grown up with her but when Amira joined the group and he moved to Folktale city to pursue performing arts he decided he was too good for the poxy, wannabe Nightspun girl.
Y'know for a guy called Moondancer he doesn't half step on your toes." Amira said, quoting the last time they had to dance with one another at his sister's Five Moon dance.
Sybil laughed dryly, the image of his pouting face making her snort. He had come back to his uncle's inn in Bridge's Keep with his skin stained lilac and his silvery grey hair quaffed in a style more befitting a beesnap flower than a 'gentlemen in the noble court.' Doused in glitter gel which was all the rage in the bustling, art filled and fashion forward city of Folktale, not even his elder sister could keep a straight face.
"Yeah. He came up to us after the show because of Siara's work on the costumes but then they got talking." Sybil said with a grimace and the Nightspell elf didn't have to guess to know why.
"Flirting?"
Sybil nodded, her face like thunder but her red ears betrayed her embarrassment. Garrett had always been surrounded by eligible elves of varying ages. But Sybil had always been special in his eyes. He had been kind and nurturing, even after he had been introduced to Dewdrop and his parents had separated. But something had changed in all of them when he moved away.
"I was about to leave and wish them goodnight but…" Sybil couldn't finish her sentence, her eyes clenched shut in anguish.
Amira wrapped her arm around her, sitting next to her and gently comforted her without saying a word. Dewdrop had waited long enough. In two precise bounds he hopped over Amira's legs and bounded into Sybil arms. It was a family reunion, hugging close and without restraint the jackalope settled within Sybil's arms like he had never left.
"It's OK, Syb. Pretend it's Dewdrop you're talking to, not me. Just like before when we were kids." Amira said, smiling while she sat back in her seat and let the spirit animal take over.
Sybil gently brushed a hand over Dewdrop's ears, giggling just like she used to while he snuffled closer, his long arching back leaning against her stomach. His coat glowed happily, entirely made from light brighter and purer than sunshine while his dappled fur bristled in delight. The Sunspell sighed, recollecting her thoughts and courage to continue her story.
"Siara tried to patch things up by giving me the Jackalope mask and...well, that's where it all went wrong."
YOU ARE READING
Nightspun (#ONC_2020)
FantasíaWith a dream in tatters and another soon to follow suit, Sybil Nightspun still longs for the storytelling days of her apprenticeship. Once a promising Nightspun initiate, now a soil tilling Outcropper she spends her days breaking shovels, resenting...