They are close in my heart

She missed him more than she could bear, at times.
Some days she could almost hear his voice in the wind, and she'd stare into the bright blindness of the sun, as if she could catch a glimpse of his missing face. A scent or a voice, a word or a swish of cloth would bring a vivid image of him to her mind, and then she would be lost to the neediness in her.
His death brought a dark tirednes to her, one that brought worried faye to her side.
"Our little keeper is breaking," she overheard them whispering, and she wondered if she was as alright as she tried to be.
(She wanted him there, wanted him to call her name: Colleen, Kairiun, anything. She wanted him so terribly that she was amazed the words didn't burst out of her sore lips.)
"Mama?"
Ceru's voice snapped her out of her thoughts, and she looked at him. For a moment, she looked like she didn't know him, and it chilled the little boy to the bone.
"Oh," she breathed, and he let her hold him tightly as she began to cry.

December 22nd, 2009.
♣

Lalé couldn't understand why the stranger in his house made him want to weep.
Ever since the lady--she was his age, but he felt otherwise, arrived at his house with a cryptic word and timid child, every glance at her made him want to cry, or gather her in his arms
What was wrong with him? He had never felt so emotionally unstable in his life. He wanted to run to her every time they were fifty feet near each other, and the very thought drove him up a wall.
You're turning into a dog, he thought in disgust. You'll scare her away with the way you always stare.
And her smile. Good god.
Ceru felt it, too. The boy would watch him, face unreadable, every time that Lalé found himself gazing at Colleen. He felt strung.
"Lalé?"
Speak of the devil. He turned to face her, suddenly beside him.
"Yes?"
"Are you alright?" Her dewey eyes caught his, dark and sweet.
"Yeah..." he murmured. She placed a hand on him, and he prayed for self-control as her uncannily familiar scent envelopped him.

December 24th, 2009.
♣

Valor stared blankly at the dark-suited man after his fingers left the piano keys. He sat there with a dignified, resolute look.
The man--Lalé, was it? His song broke Valor's heart. Something tender and yearning about the sorrow behind it was beyond anything he had ever heard.
"You..." he breathed, "are amazing."
He thanked him in a soft voice, eyes downcast.
"Who... wrote that?"
"I did."
The man's answer stunned him more. Lalé closed his eyes, as if going to a distant place, falling silent.
"Ah, do you mind," Valor swallowed after a moment of silence, "telling me what you wrote it for?"
(It was such a beautiful song. Who wouldn't be compelled to ask?)
"My lover," came his quiet reply. "She... was my everything. She was killed."
By my foolishness, he thought.
It wasn't a surprise, but Valor was shaken by his tone, nonetheless. "...I'm so sorry..."
Lalé smiled. The man felt strangely at peace, speaking of her to a stranger. "Do not be. It was long, long ago."
The next choice wasn't necessary to think over. Valor stood, putting down the audition board with a definite click.
"You're hired."

December 24th, 2009.
♣


He listened for the sound of her, unable to tear his eyes away. She, locked in her crystalline cage, could only wait.
It had been forever since he last spoke to hre. the missing gnaw in his stomach was almost painful if he wasn't already accustomed.
What do you dream of, Snow? He wanted to ask her. Do you see Ice and Storm there, too?
It's too bad your Mist isn't there with you.
He recalled their aliases with ease, from the time when they were younger and still free to play as they chose. The main stared at her from afar, unable to go near her ,brimming with agitation. How long until the four of them could be together again?
I want them to meet Kairiun.
The thought brought a smile to his face, and he stood from the spot he usually sat to see his sister. It wouldnèt be too long until then...
Another few years. He prayed that Kairiun would be willing to stay with him for that long. He could see his incapacitated siblings growing to like her.
It wouldnèt be long, he reminded himself.
He knew how to wait.

December 28th, 2009.
♣

They held their breaths when they felt the rumble of the distant thunder, surely a sign of falling bomb sor others of the sort. Eila was sure that hse had never felt such terrible shaking of the world up in the plates; none of the streakers in the earthbound towns could ever fly bombs of that caliber that high.
Perhaps it was a stroke of fate that she was born ther eand not here on the skyless earth. She mused bitterly that all those years fighting for a cause helped her forget that her children's killers had children, too.
"Eila!" She turned when someone called her name--it was Sorena, blue eyes wild while she scrambled over.
The general barely had a few seconds to react before Sorena gripped her arms.
"Sore--"
"Come, Eila, please!" the girl blurted out. "We need you. You're the only one who knows how the Platian weapons work. The damage, oh god--"
To help them would mean high treason. She knew that. She thought of the faces of her mentors, of the government leaders. She thought of Sarah, and Maria, Rosaline and Ezekiel. And Keiran.
But to ignore their suffering...
"Come," she breathed, "Let's hurry."

February 17th, 2010.
♣

Pandora.
Her name was the sweetest thing on their lips, gentle like morning dew and bitter like burning poison. Mania was the first to rise, curls filthy with soot and dust, shivering with pain and fatigue. She stood among the debris and destruction, knowing full well there was no way she could've died in the collapsing but sick with fear, anyways.
"Panic?" She whispered. "Hissy? Te-"
Dora. She wanted Pandora like a child wanted their mother; wasn't that exactly who Pandora was?
Terror climbed out of the corner where a wall shielded him; he was an angel, bright and untouched. Hysteria, one arm in splinters, sat in a pile, eyes glassy. Mania saw bits and pieces of Panic strewn about, entrails and limbs blown apart. His head and torso were not far, but he looked frightened and dismayed. Silently she gathered what she could of him and she walked to where Hysteria remained, frozen. Terror was not far behind her.
They were all petrified with fear.
Where in the world was Pandora?

March 28th, 2010.
♣
"Nothing like a good drink to cheer you up, eh?"
"Shoot me, " came the sarcastic reply.
He tried, anyways. Valor knew the day would come when he had to face Amor again. It occured to him that his little brother by seven years would hate him enough to knife him then and there.
Decency and Lalé's watchful eye prevented that.
"Look, Amor--"
"No. Fuck you. I'm here to get wasted, not reminisce."
His scowl accented the thunk of the drink. Valor remembered Amor when he was small, gentle and happy and unscarred, and wanted to cry.
"How are our parents?"
There was a pause.
"Still fucked up. Still whip me. Got any more questions?"
(Was that why Amor wore long sleeves?)
Of course not. Regret and sorrow held his words back. Valor had left him, after all.
"A toast," Amor said, darkly, raising his glass. "To mom and dad. Those bastards. To their early deaths."
"You can't be serious--"
"Try me," he snarled.
Quietly, they met eyes, one burdened with heavy sadness, another with a screaming, unvoiced pain.
In the dark of the bar, the brothers clinked glasses, and gulped the burning drinks down.

April 8th, 2010.
♣

There was music written all over the walls. From the ceiling to the floor, fine archival whimsy decorated every nook and cranny. Lilting notes and trills, gentle silver, silent sounds wove and crashed upon the shores of the windows. Black, brown, green and crimson ink spalshed in lines across the expanse of eggshell white.
Climbing sixteenths and running ties, curling treble and arching C clefs tumbled; their breath was stolen away. There was also foreign music notation with lovely, waving symbols intertwined with what they could see and understand, like a sweet new melody melting with a familiar one.
"Wow." Aidan breathed, first to speak. Colleen and Skye each took to the walls, both examining the scripture. Maddie stood, dumbfounded, marvelling from the centre of the room, and Silver whistled, low and humbled.
"This is amazing," Valor swung to the Queen in awe. and she grinned. Gesturing, Rhiannon threw her graceful, iridescent head back, silken arms waving like the music, and laughed.
"Welcome to the Aethahara's music chamber."

April 16th, 2010.

♣