The girls are golden together, but the night takes the blue of Sereia and turns it a dark indigo. It is night crawling up her limbs, her belly, swallowing the gold of daylight. She knows nothing of how her friend’s daughter was made. She knows nothing of the lies that weave out of her mouth as easy as breathing. If she did, Sereia would ask of the weight of them, the pain of them and how Elena is so strong.
But Sereia knows none of these things and so, when the Terrastellan talks of her daughter’s father, the kelpie only smiles and laughs. “Oh, lucky to have a night off. I hope Elliana is not running him too ragged.” Impish is the smile that grows across her lips. Sereia has no experience of her own children, but she has a wealth of sisters, she knows how precocious small girls can be.
Then they talk of flowers and spring and this again is something she knows nothing of, yet. She does not know how the spring will bring tulips, how a young Dusk child will walk in them and find laughter and happiness. But Sereia can believe it, she can believe it with every fibre of her being. “I am sure she will. Who does not find joy in spring?” And oh Sereia is reminded of that first warm day, that smell of pollen and budding flowers that tells her spring is sprung.
“Yes,” she smiles, “let’s find cocoa, I do not think the night is over for us yet.” And with a smile Sereia steps on, leading her friend into the crowd and to a nearby stall, because, yes, the night is still young and there is much to still talk about.
@
an unspoken soliloquy of dreams
~ Ariana
