The One

A special occasion

The boy is right, Nasr thought as he stood before Odessa, as I am now, I would not sacrifice you for anything. You, however...

He narrowed his eyes at his sister, who had her attention on the crystal ball before her. It showed a mute scene of Izar and Feray sitting in bed, her leaning against him. Watching this, Odessa smiled to herself, her eyes cold as ever.

She reckons that means Feray will sacrifice her brother for Izar, Nasr noted. He, too, looked into the ball. Instead of merely watching, he tried to read his apprentice's lips.

Find your happiness...poison no longer has an effect...won't need to find a cure.

That was what he read—and nowhere in that message was it suggested that Feray even considered sacrificing anyone at all, let alone her brother. The dark sorcerer shifted his gaze to Odessa again. She seemed not to notice what was actually being said. He doubted that she was incapable of lip-reading; it was perhaps more so because she was too fixated on what she wanted to see—so much that she failed to notice the truth when it wasn't what she wanted.

Find his happiness... Nasr repeated those words in his mind. And I will no longer be needed in any sense. Ha...clever girl. You...and only you...would use me so. You wound me so, my apprentice. Nevertheless...

Thinking thus, he glanced at the crystal ball again. As if on cue, Feray looked up to what should be the ceiling and winked. Nasr shifted his gaze to his sister now to see if she would react at all—she did. Her smile vanished, replaced by a thin line of fury. Of course, Feray knew she was being watched; it didn't take much to know. But the wink was not for Odessa.

...Nevertheless, it is all according to plan.

Beside her, Izar said something—possibly asking why in the world she would provoke Odessa in such a state—and she gave her answer. This time, Nasr did not attempt to read what they were saying.

From here on, their situation will only grow better. For me...it will soon be breaking dawn.

A week later, Hominum found itself coated with snow. A merry tune played through the streets, ringing from malls to homes. Feray had almost recovered fully by then, and because of that, Izar didn't object when she told him she wanted to see the preparations for herself. For the first time, she visited the malls when they were decorated with the same ornaments and the same songs; she witnessed for herself how families prepared for the upcoming occasion, most of whom having only their children in mind.

"Have you never seen any of this before?" Izar asked.

Feray shook her head. "I was always indoors."

They were sitting in a cafe, each with a warm drink in their hands. Izar looked down at his for a moment before meeting her gaze again, smiling—it seemed, she noted to herself, that he'd started smiling every day since their conversation and subtle confession. They hadn't discussed the matter again, but she felt that there was no need. Since that day, Izar became the first and last face she saw every day; as the days grew cold, he held her until she was warm enough to fall asleep. Nothing beyond that was ever done, but it was sufficient.

"The first time I saw the celebrations was after I became a transferal witch," he said, his gaze faraway. "Religion only exists in Hominum. At first, I found it pointless, but then I realized...it's on these occasions that you see families being happy together, making time for each other."

Feray took a sip from her mug and continued to listen.

"December twenty-fifth. That happens to be my birthday. It was also the day Sadie passed away, and the day Odessa burned the rest of my family to the ground. Sadie's death was like a death sentence for me as well."

"...waiting to see what misfortune each birthday would bring," Feray murmured. "And while you're watching happy families, you're all alone."

"Something like that. I kept in mind to not say anything even if I were to one day fall in love, too, in case it would provoke Odessa and bring disasters on people who wouldn't otherwise have to experience them. I've lived that way and... thought I always would."

Feray leaned forward on the table, bringing her face just a little closer to him. She beamed, saying in a casual tone, "But I've provoked her already."

"So it makes no difference what I do."

"Izar," she said, "Are you afraid?"

"I'm anxious," he answered. "But, well...I trust you."

Saying so, he held out a hand, on which Feray placed hers. Without looking away from her, he kissed the back of her hand, his habitual smile now reaching his eyes.

"You know...you're actually really cool. That scar makes you look even cooler."

"Heh...is that so? What else would you have me do then, dearie?"

Feray beamed. Even better than his normal self. I wonder how great he'll be when he gets his own happy ending.

At the same time, in Refica, Waylon was making his way to the door of his house. Just like it was in Hominum, it was snowing here—the only difference was that there was no festive music and no families on the streets.

"Hey!" Zanna greeted a little too enthusiastically, a box in her hands. "Guess what I brought!"

"Brioches," Waylon answered without even glancing at the box. He stepped aside to let her through, then closed the door.

"Aww, you're no fun."

"You bring the same thing every time."

"That's because I don't know how to cook," Zanna protested, placing the box on the table.

"If you'd let me cook, that would solve the problem. We're in my house too, you know."

"But if you cook, it takes time. And you won't let me in the kitchen while you're cooking, so I can't be with you during that time."

"That's because the ingredients are all gone before I can even cook them."

This was a conversation they had almost every time she visited, and this time was no exception. After the exchange, however, Waylon broke into a soft chuckle, and Zanna into a waterfall of laughter.

"Any news from Feray?" Zanna asked.

Both made their way to the girl's room, where the mailbox was. "She and Izar are technically on a honeymoon at this point," Waylon said as he took a letter from the drawer to hand to Zanna. "That's for you."

As she read, Waylon leaned on the desk. When she finished, she asked, "What's Christmas? It sounds good."

"Ah, Christmas..." Over the next few minutes, Waylon explained the occasion. He lowered his head. "I never could bring her out for that back when we were in Hominum."

"She's seeing all the stuff she missed though," Zanna said, "It's just that it's not with you this time! And it's not Christmas day yet. But I don't think she minds."

"She doesn't—that's why I feel bad about it."

"...yeah. But hey, at least they're both happy now. Izar especially."

Waylon nodded. "Once they come back..." They'll have to deal with too many things at once, he finished in his mind.

"Brioche!"

As always, Zanna knew exactly when to chirp in with the most nonsensical distraction. He didn't even notice when she'd gotten the box into Feray's room, but she was lifting it in his face now.

"No food in the bedrooms!" he nearly shouted, alarmed.

"Then you come out!" Giggling, she bolted out of Feray's room and into the living room.