The Frozen Moon - By J.D. Swinn Page 0,24
point, Nameh knew the procedure, and that this was nothing she couldn’t cope with. She dried her hair, stepping out of the small shower; the bristled ends brushed against her back. Her oversized t-shirt and warm flannel shorts lay across the towel rack. She pulled them on; relishing the shallow level of warmth they brought her. If only they could do more than scratch at the surface of her bone-deep chill. She almost smiled at the irony of the angel paint splattered across her black t-shirt. Almost.
She moved the pure white towel from her hair to her face, where she wiped away the remnants of mascara that soap had failed to cleanse. She tossed the towel aside, now streaked black.
She emerged from the bathroom a new person, already the same Nameh as she had always been, or so it seemed from the outside. Inside, she knew that she never would be the same, that each death affects a person no matter how many they experience, but outside she was stoic. Mira’s hair hung in stretched curls from the weight of the water it was holding, fitting, she thought. If only there was something she could say, anything that might ease her pain, she thought, but she knew there was not. The only elixir for such an ailment is the sweet song of time, but even so, it is a long road. Instead, she gave her friend a meaningful look, making up for how words can often fail, for how language can come up short. All the words in the entire world could not express to Mira what she wanted to at that moment. Mira was clad similarly in shorts covered in maple leaves and a long-sleeve navy shirt. The shorts had come from their trip to Canada along with Deanna. The shirt was from their trip to Paris together; she was immediately catapulted through her memories to the scene on the window ledge when they had watched the city wake. She smiled in spite of herself as she recalled how this was her last memory at the thought of losing Mira.
Before rationality could get the best of her, she scooped her friend into an embrace, finishing off the wordless conversation like an emblazoned wax seal on the scroll. They stepped into the hallway of the dimly lit building and, as usual, saw no one in the long corridor. She rapped her knuckles against the thick wood of the door next to theirs, painted with the same faded red and gold. Talar opened the door to let them in, and locked it behind them. He was wearing a sweatshirt of seemingly random colors patched together. Big swoops of blue and red and green swam around each other, giving a pleasant effect. There were three beds in the room, but four figures sat on them now: Max, Wyd, Seth, and Cal. Talar took a seat next to Max, while she and Mira sat comfortably against the wall facing the beds. The others offered their seats, which of course annoyed Nameh to no end, and they promptly turned them down.
They talked for a few minutes, the somberness slowly melting away like some massive block of ice in the shade on an autumn day. Seth and Cal announced that with Gwen and Eve gone, they would join the group. They had planned to get another room close to the two already reserved. The conversation took a casual turn, talking about music or the weather, or something devoid of true meaning.
No one wanted to speak of what had happened that night, and what had been lost just as soon as it had been gained. Cleaned of blood and the clinging scum of death at last, no one was sure who fell asleep first. Everyone was splayed out on the floor, and all of the beds lay unoccupied. She knew her legs were up against someone, and her head up against someone else, though she didn’t know or care exactly who. The last thing Nameh remembered was an unfamiliar closeness with everyone in the small room; the warmth and comfort it brought sent her drifting into the complete and restful sleep of fatigue.
The feeling of family she had developed tugged at her receding consciousness; for the first time, she was tempted not to pursue the amulet. What if they just left, and fell off of the scene of battle, never to be found or sought after by the Guild again? Maybe they could have a chance