The Divide

Chapter Three: Aurora

Captain Murchadh is everything I expect him to be and more.

I've seen pictures of him in the past, but his years spent in Greymoore have changed him. The images I've seen of the Captain show him wearing finery befitting a member of my father's court, and even then, his good looks could not be denied. The only thing that had been off putting about his appearance was the look in his eye: hungry, cunning, and a little bit arrogant. Now, that old look is the only thing that remains of his old self. 

His black hair falls to his shoulders in gentle waves, his eyes are blue like the sea on a stormy day, and a subtle five o'clock shadow lines his jaw. It looks very much intentional, as if he knows it looks good on him and wants to keep it that way because of it.

I look at him with awe and wonder. Captain Murchadh, on the other hand, looks around the room seeming annoyed. Is it the small talk he's being forced to contribute to, or is the fact that he's back here irritating enough? I feel a little bad for him. Ever since the welcome feast began, he's been acting as if he's looking for somebody. I can't help but wonder who.

"At least you don't stick out like a sore thumb anymore," Chad says as he appears next to me, making my hiding spot behind one of the ballroom's pillars--a shadier area, perfect for scoping out the scene--borderline ineffective. "It's more like a group of thumbs. Ha."

I shoot him a sideways roll of the eyes. "Your jokes get worse by the day."

Looking at the Greymorians around us, however, I know what Chad means. They couldn't have stood out more if they'd tried, which is typically the situation for me. I've never seen clothing with so much personality: their clothes are mostly dark, accentuated with a shred of colour here and there, but all look different. 

Clothes like this aren't common here; the Aurorians are garbed in pastels, frills, and dresses lined with pretty lace. The Greymorians have accentuated their clothes with what I assume are things personal to them---snippets of fishing nets, rips, unnecessary buckles. It's amazing.

Truthfully, I feel terrible for admiring them. I know that every thread must have been hard to come by, that every chain and unnecessary buckle on their clothing is there for a reason, a sort of cruel fashion that accommodates a life of hardship. But I've never seen anyone who looks like this before, and I feel a strange--and yet uncomfortable--sense of awe at the sight of them.

It's not that I wish for the life they have. I'm not that ungrateful nor that naive---I know that I come from a place of privilege. I just wish for a life in which I can feel comfortable in my own skin. A united Auroria and Greymoore would mean a better life for all. Perhaps that's a naive thought now, but the fact that this meeting is even happening gives me hope that one day it might not be such a naive thought at all.

Hope, for me, is a very strange thing to have.

"Yeah, well, at least I'm making jokes and not ignoring everyone like a totally ungracious guest," Chad quips.

I glare at him. "I'm... observing."

It's the truth. On any other occasion I wouldn't be so fascinated by my surroundings, but today is different. Some guests are feasting, some are drinking, and many are engaged in all kinds of conversation. Only a few Aurorians and Greymorians are mingling, though, mostly preferring to stick to themselves. I can understand their hesitance to speak to one another. It'll take time. Considering that they're here for a month, the scene might be different by the end of their stay.

Chad's brows rise. "So that's what we're calling it. Okay," he teases, wrapping an arm around my shoulder. "See anyone hot yet? I figured they'd all be old and wrinkly, but a few of them are actually pretty... cute."