Roland stepped through the veil and rejoined his companions in the chamber of the second trial. They raced to him immediately.
“You’re all right!” Tsubasa cried, breathing a huge sigh. “Oh, thank goodness. When the door vanished and we couldn’t follow you through, we feared the worst.”
“She tried to shatter the wall,” Erika said, looking slightly amused in the midst of her worry.
“You…” Roland started, staring at Tsubasa, and then each of the others in turn. Then he laughed. He couldn’t help it. Their compassion for him overwhelmed him, but on top of his joy at succeeding with Shureen, it poured out of him in laughter, not tears. “Thank you. All of you. I… I’m really grateful. You’re all so kind.”
“You succeeded, then,” Muirrach said, and Roland was heartened by the smile on his face.
“I did,” Roland said, nearly breathless with joy. He rolled up his sleeve to the shoulder, revealing the new tattoo that wrapped around his upper arm — Shureen, dancing in the waves.
“Is that Shureen?” Erika asked, gazing up at it. “Oh, she’s beautiful.”
“It’s nearly as big as your first two tattoos combined,” Tsubasa said.
“There is nothing more important to life than water,” Muirrach said. “Shureen’s value is unparalleled. And yet the appearance of your tattoo…” He studied it for a moment, and there was something inspired in his eyes.
“What is it?” Roland asked.
“Kirin and Viatos,” Muirrach said, pointing to each of those tattoos. “Notice how their tattoos are symbolic representations of them. But Shureen’s…”
“Shows her in her entirety,” Roland said. “But what does that mean?”
“She must like you the most,” Tsubasa said, grinning.
“You’re not far off the mark,” Muirrach said appraisingly. “It appears Roland’s affinity with her attribute is greater than with Kirin’s or Viatos’. Water is your element, Roland, and Shureen recognizes that.”
Roland stared at the tattoo, his heart dancing. Was that truly why she had taken up so much more of his arm, in so much more detail, than the first two Fantasians? And seeing this, coming to these realizations now…
Why, oh why, did I stay away for six years? Why did I let guilt keep me away from you for so long?
Of course those six years helped me study and learn. Of course those six years helped me process things and… at least partially… heal. There’s no point wanting the past to change. But I need to learn from it.
Don’t ever, ever let guilt or shame keep you from where you’re meant to be. Never again, Roland.
“We have to return to the surface, now, don’t we?” Enrique asked, a slight tremor in his voice.
Roland smiled at him. “There won’t be another passage through the dark and the cold, through the unknown,” he said. “Come on. The way back will be easy.”
He led them to the exit, and softly hummed Shureen’s song. A graceful, serene melody, it carried with it the beauty and mystery of water. There was a warmth along his arm, and it spread to the rest of him. He took gentle hold of his companions, and stepped forward.
They stepped together into water, but this wasn’t the dark, crushing depths that had challenged them on the way in. Here was a bright, blue tower with shafts of light shining down from high above. And unlike the struggle to hold their breaths on the way down, for the ascent, they could breathe! Shureen’s power flowed through them, allowing them to breathe water like air, and when Roland kicked his feet, he and his companions rose through the water with no resistance, no struggle, no challenge. Where the dark descent had taken what seemed like eons of pain and terror, the bright ascent took only a few warm, uplifting moments.
“And here we are,” Roland said, stepping up onto the threshold, smiling. He led the way out of the Canon, back out into the sunlight, crossing the path out of the pool, where onlookers were gaping and gazing in awe.
Ah. Right. I’d forgotten about this part of the Path.
Roland struggled not to flinch or shy away from the attention. He knew how much awe Summoners held for the people of Wonderia, and even many in Albia — though it was easy to forget that at the Tower, where his colleagues largely saw his abilities as an intriguing curiosity, useful for his work (and often exploited for just that), but not at all an object of reverence. Being the subject of awe and admiration, even if he deserved it (and he wasn’t wholly certain he did), was a difficult thing for him.
“People who do not know you will always view you differently when they see the marks of the Fantasians upon you,” his Teacher had told him after completing Kirin’s Canon, and returning to see, with shock, a great crowd pointing at him, some cheering and clapping, everyone astonished and amazed. “Do your best to accept it, for the Summoner’s place in this world is one with powers and connections that separate them from the masses. But also know this — your existence as a student on the Path, and one day a full Summoner, will only make those most valuable relationships more apparent. Those who love you, those who truly care for you, will still see you for who you are and stand by you, rather than place you upon a grand pedestal which they cannot approach.”
And Roland found himself more heartened than he had ever been upon exiting Kirin’s or Vi’s Canons. Then, it had been just him and his Teacher. But here, he had Erika, Enrique, Tsubasa, and Muirrach all with him, all walking beside him, rather than joining the crowds to honor and revere him.
I hope you’re watching me, Teacher. I know if you could see the friendships I’ve made now, your smile would light up the sky.
Roland could have rolled down his sleeve to hide the tattoo, but word would spread, and everyone would be staring at him anyway. So all the way down through Shureen’s Cove, he kept the tattoo of Shureen exposed, let the whole city see as he made his way back to the tub boats. “We’ll return to Caladhlen,” he said softly, only for his companions to hear beneath the murmurings that surrounded them, “and from there begin our journey to Mount Fuarain and Jurall’s Canon.”
“We’re just leaving, right away?” Erika asked, looking all around. “But everyone’s so excited to see you!”
“And they undoubtedly want to see me perform some grand stunt to display my new powers,” Roland said, chuckling. “But I was taught not to show off. And it’s certainly not in my nature. Everyone here can spend the rest of the day — and likely the week, maybe even the month — talking about me after I’m gone. Just my return from the Canon with this tattoo will be enough to keep them amazed for a very long time.”
“And the Summoner’s purpose isn’t to gather a crowd of adoring fans,” Muirrach said wryly. “They’ll have occasion to see your power, if the time comes.”
“It just… puts everything into perspective,” Erika said. “I was already in awe of the Path of the Eight, of the Fantasians, but that was just from reading about them, and hearing stories. I never realized just how powerful an effect you could have on an entire city of people who don’t even know your name.”
“It’s certainly a lot to take in,” Roland said, and, suppressing a sigh, allowed himself to return the waving of several children in the crowd, smiling at them. Their eyes went so wide, and they suddenly started chattering amongst themselves in intense excitement.
They reached the docks, and Roland paused. Gazing out at the pristine waters, he felt a sudden thrill, a desire he couldn’t suppress. Turning back to see the crowd, watching him from every tier of the beachside town, he smiled.
“Roland?” Tsubasa asked. There was a glint of anticipation in her eyes. “What’s the plan?”
“I… suppose I would like to show off, just this once,” Roland said.
He stepped down from the dock, onto the beach. Singing Shureen’s wordless song, he strode to the waters. Holding out his right arm, the tattoo of Shureen glowing with cerulean light, he waved his hand once over the water as the tide came in. Motes of light danced from his hand like cerulean fairies, touched the water, and the water began to shine with light, a glowing teardrop-shaped symbol appearing on the water’s surface, just large enough for Roland and his companions to stand on. Roland was the first to step onto the symbol, and it held beneath his feet like solid ground. He stepped to the front, which was the rounder, wider, bottom portion of the teardrop shape, and invited the others to follow him.
“Is it really safe, though?” Enrique asked, but Erika grasped his hand and leapt aboard with him, laughing with delight as she was able to stand upon the waters with him and Roland. They took their places just behind Roland. Tsubasa boarded next, and then Muirrach.
“Back to Caladhlen, then?” Muirrach asked, smiling approvingly at the workings of Roland’s newest magic.
“Yes,” Roland said. He sang just a few notes of Shureen’s song, and the symbol glided forward, picking up speed. Water washed over his feet, and he smiled at its familiar, welcome touch. Through the tunnel they passed and then out into the sea, with the open waters all around them, the horizon so far in every direction. Tsubasa let out a whooping cheer, pumping her fist. Erika couldn’t seem to stop laughing, beaming at the world. Enrique clutched tight to his sister, and to Roland’s jacket, fixing his eyes resolutely on the horizon. Muirrach was silent, and Roland couldn’t see him in the back, but he felt his presence, his pride in Roland, his warm reassurance, his excitement at what was to come.
And Roland felt Shureen, in his heart, like he’d never felt Kirin or Vi when calling upon their powers. Her heart was in his, her serene presence singing along with him, her voice part of his own.
This is what it is to be a Summoner. This is what it truly means, what it’s always meant to feel like! Even though I’ve barely met her, Shureen lives in my heart like my oldest, dearest friend. Like I know her, better than I’ve ever known anyone, better than I know myself — and I’m coming to know myself a little bit better, through her.
Kirin… Vi… I’m sure it can be like this with the two of you, as well. I’ll take the time, find our connection, and forge a powerful bond with you. You’re here in my heart, too, aren’t you? All I have to do is learn to find your voices.
Before he knew it, he was stepping onto the beach of Caladhlen, the port town sprawling out before him and stretching on and on to the left and right. There were only a handful of people near the beach, but every single one of them was gaping at him, and a few of them suddenly ran off to spread the word. Cries of “The Summoner is here!” and “The Pact has been forged with Shureen!” echoed from where they went.
Roland navigated the hubbub with assistance from Muirrach, and memories of dealing with similar attention at Kirin’s and Vi’s Canons under his Teacher’s guidance. In the end, they stayed the night at the same hotel they’d stayed the previous, and while the manager said they could stay for free, Roland insisted on paying him.
That night, they all gathered together in the solitude of Roland’s room. Even with windows open, all the sound that reached their ears was the song of the sea.
“We’ll set out early tomorrow,” Roland said. “That’s the best way to avoid the crowds and get on our way fastest.”
“I can understand some of the awe about the Summoner,” Enrique said, “though it is somewhat puzzling that they call you the Summoner, when there are multiple people who can walk the Path of the Eight and bear the title. But I don’t quite understand the full scale of the attention and praise you get. You have unique abilities, and bonds with the Fantasians, of course, but… many of them act as if you’re some kind of religious figure.”
“Yes, I… do wish they wouldn’t go quite that far,” Roland said, rubbing the back of his neck sheepishly. “I am certainly not in any way on equal standing with the Creator, nor am I the Conductor, or one of the Cantors reborn, or a prophet. But the Summoner’s powers, when fully awakened and mastered, go beyond any other magic in all the realms. Pact Artes aren’t like ordinary artes. They don’t use sound — resonance, harmonics, melodies, and such — to enact a desired effect. The songs of the Fantasians call upon each Fantasian’s powers, summoning out a power beyond oneself, a power impossible by any other artes or magic. Like we talked about, the Fantasians are part of the world itself. It isn’t just about their Canon and surrounding areas. If something were to happen to Shureen, all water, across all realms, would see catastrophic failures. The tides would falter, currents would wane. Reservoirs would dry up, and once clean waters would grow fetid, once gentle sea creatures find themselves warped into vicious monsters. Shureen is the True Source that gives life to all waters. So it is for all of the Fantasians and their innate attribute — Kirin with the earth and plants and animals, Vi with the skies and winds and weather, Jurall with heat and fire and magma.”
“So forming all of the Pacts and mastering their powers makes you… master of the world???” Erika asked, eyes going wide.
Roland laughed. “Not quite,” he said. “But to be honest, the Summoner’s true potential is… theoretical. No Summoner has ever awoken the full breadth and scope of what should be possible through the Pacts.”
“But your Teacher believed you could,” Tsubasa said.
Roland was struck with awe as he recalled what Muirrach had said Alystair’s final words were: “He will be the finest Summoner the realms have ever seen. He will be the one to open the door to lost Elysia.”
A brief silence filled the room, and Roland was glad for it. A moment, a precious moment, to take in what Alystair had believed of him — and what hopes he could have for the future.
“Hold on a moment,” Enrique said. “It’s called the ‘Path of the Eight.’ And there are eight Fantasians. But you only ever talk about four of them.”
“Ah,” Roland said, and sat back, wondering how exactly to tackle this subject. “The Fantasians are considered as two Quartets. The first Quartet, comprising Kirin, Viatos, Shureen, and Jurall, are fairly easy to understand. The second Quartet is… challenging to define. There is Luna, whose name you would guess to tie her to the twin moons, the Cúplach. And that is true, but what that means is… complex, multifaceted, and not concretely defined. The same goes for the others — Zexal, Huill, and ChronoLogy. But we can talk more about those four when we get nearer to actually meeting them. I still have one more Canon to challenge to complete Pacts with the first Quartet. And Jurall’s will be the most challenging of all.” He looked to Muirrach who nodded sagely.
“Kirin is known for being kind and gentle to all potential Summoners,” Muirrach said. “Viatos is capricious, but it’s more in the name of fun rather than truly endangering any who would come seeking a Pact. Shureen shows you true danger, and is remarkably mysterious, but there is still an element of invitation. Jurall… he knows that those who walk the Path come to him with three completed Pacts already. He knows what they have faced before him. And as the Lord of the first Quartet, he stands both as the greatest test thus far, and the final barrier before approaching the second Quartet. For those reasons — and that it is simply part of his personality — he pushes ‘challengers,’ as he calls approaching Summoners, to the brink. His trials are physical, mental, and emotional tests that will challenge you like nothing before them.”
“We’ll be there for you, though!” Tsubasa said, grinning. “As far as physical tests go, I’m ready for anything! And I’m not too shabby at tests of the mind, either.”
“More like absolutely brilliant in both respects!” Erika said.
“That’s… rather the rub, though,” Roland said. He sighed. He’d known this was coming, and it was better to face it now than when they were at Mount Fuarain, but even so… “Jurall doesn’t allow anyone to accompany his challengers. When we reach the Canon, I will have to enter — and face the trials — alone.”
“Oh,” Tsubasa said. This simple word was followed by a powerful silence, and the brief enthusiasm they’d all shown faltered.
“Will you be all right?” Erika asked, reaching out and holding Roland’s hand. She had such a kind, gentle touch that warmed Roland’s heart. “You have a weak heart, and lungs, you said.”
“And you’ve seen the truth of it,” Roland said. “Don’t worry. I know my limits. But I’m capable of more than you might expect. My Teacher’s training was quite physical, and I faced all of it for years despite having been born with this condition. It won’t be easy — but then, that’s the point of the trials. All of you will be able to accompany me to the summit, if you wish. Knowing you’re all waiting for me will be a great encouragement. And I won’t really be going in alone.” He pressed his hand to his heart, closed his eyes, and smiled. “Kirin, Vi, and Shureen go with me, wherever I go. Jurall will want to see how my Pacts with them have blossomed, so I’ll need to spend the journey to Mount Fuarain focused on training, learning all of their powers and growing in strength. It’s not just me that needs to be ready for the fourth Canon. It will be a team effort.”
They talked a while longer, and Roland, Muirrach, and Tsubasa laid out maps and showed the twins the route they would take — after arguing a bit over which path was best.
“Summer’s coming on any day now,” Tsubasa said, tapping the Songflower Vale meaningfully. “If we’re not quick, your proposed path will be —”
“Blocked by Lip-Lock Forest,” Roland said, realization dawning on him.
“Lip-Lock Forest?” Erika asked, eyes wide and sparkling. “Is it a forest where lovers go to be alone?”
“Not that kind of lip-lock,” Tsubasa said, and while she rolled her eyes, it was clear she was fighting hard not to laugh. “And you’re just a kid, what are you doing thinking like that? Anyway, it’s a wood of silence. Your own lips are locked — you can’t speak, and getting through those dense woods is nearly impossible without being able to talk. I’ll explain it tomorrow, if you still wanna know,” she added, waving a hand at Erika’s questions. “It’s a lot, and we really should get to bed soon. But the point is, Lip-Lock Forest makes travel between Eastern and Northern Wonderia awfully complicated during the summer.”
“Wait,” Enrique said, holding up a hand. “Are you saying an entire forest springs up out of nowhere during the summer? It’s… a… seasonal forest?” His skeptical eyebrow couldn’t be raised any higher.
“That’s what you get with Wonderian seasons,” Tsubasa said with a shrug. “The entire landscape changes. And it’s not all perfectly predictable, either.”
“Lip-Lock Forest sometimes pops up for a few days in winter, just for a laugh,” Roland said, rolling his eyes. He indicated the charts they had out beside their maps. “That’s where these seasonal pattern charts come in handy. Planning a trip through Wonderia — especially when a seasonal change is close at hand — can get very complicated.”
“So we should just go north quickly, then, right?” Enrique asked.
“We’ll certainly try,” Roland said.
Eventually they settled on a path and means of travel they all hoped would go smoothly, and dispersed to go to bed. It had been a very, very long day, and they’d stayed up too late talking about so much. Roland’s mind was spinning with all sorts of ideas, and he was still basking in amazement at his new Pact with Shureen, but despite all of that, he was asleep as soon as his head hit the pillow.
He dreamt of water, pure and pristine. Of swimming, and diving, and of so many happy days with his Teacher, who had loved being in the water as much as Roland had. He woke early, refreshed and rejuvenated, and along with his morning stretches and prayers, he hummed Shureen’s song softly — just to join his voice to hers, to feel her heart in his, more closely.
They bought breakfast for the road and left before the sun had truly risen, its waking gleams visible on the horizon. There were a few who noticed their departure, and gawked at Roland sleepily from windows and doorways, but then Roland and his companions were off on the road, Roland’s sleeve rolled down to hide his tattoos, heading to lands where no one knew who he was — yet.
On the road, Roland spent time singing the three Fantasians’ songs and testing what he could do with their powers, trying to build his bonds with them better than he had before. He’d spent so many years studying that the theory was all ingrained in his mind by this point. All he needed, as Tsubasa had put it, was practice.
And she was happy to help him! Of course, her idea of helping with training involved martial arts more often than not, and Roland really was no match for her in that department, just as he’d protested earlier in their journey.
Which turned Tsubasa’s attentions to Muirrach — and saw him soundly flatten her three separate times that day. He refused to fight more extensively, refused to do anything that might cause her harm — and, frankly, seemed rather annoyed by the regular attacks, almost like Tsubasa was some buzzing fly that just refused to go away. Of course, that only raised her lofty opinion of his ability to higher heights, and she was constantly praising his expertise in between trying to land a hit on him.
In truth, Roland was as impressed as she was. He’d seen her in action against the Masks, twice, and she was a force to be reckoned with. Roland had thought he’d known just how skilled his Teacher and his sister were in the same martial arts he’d taught to Roland, so either Muirrach was on a whole other level above them, or Alystair had always been hiding his true skill from Roland.
Erika was glowing like the sun, positively delighted to spend time with them, to watch them all, to cheer them all on, just basking in their company — and her cheer was infectious. Enrique, meanwhile, spent the majority of the journey with his nose in one book or another — often his own notebook, jotting down notes and ideas, and organizing his thoughts. Though what form those thoughtful organizations took, no one could find out. Enrique was very fast to snap his notebook shut whenever prying eyes attempted to spy his secrets. It turned into quite the game for Erika and Tsubasa to try and catch him unawares, and they were all impressed at how, by the end of the day, Enrique had stymied even Tsubasa’s most valiant efforts to catch a glimpse of his notes.
But when Enrique wasn’t reading, he spent time asking Tsubasa, Roland, and Muirrach about the Sky-Sphere. “There are different regions that change the sky at night,” he said, gazing up at the bright afternoon sky. “But the daytime sky over Twinkling is the same as the daytime sky here. Does the Sky-Sphere only affect the night sky?”
“That’s a shrewd question,” Tsubasa said, nodding approvingly. “It all comes down to the sun, though. It lies between Wonderia and the Sky-Sphere, and its intense light blocks out the details of the Sky-Sphere. You could say the daytime sky is an illusion, all that blue with no detail aside from clouds. The Sky-Sphere is the true sky, beyond the sun, and we can only see its details at night.”
“That’s a shame,” Erika said. “It would be quite charming — and really fitting for Wonderia, I think — if the Sky-Sphere changed how different regions’ daytime sky looked, as well.”
They spent the entire day walking — a merchant caravan they’d hoped to hitch a ride with at the halfway point had gone on a day early — but Roland ended the day amazed at their speed, and especially at the twins’ stamina. They held up like they’d lived on the road, walking all day every day since they’d learned to walk, with nary a complaint or a struggle. And it wasn’t an act — Roland knew how to spot people trying to hide sore feet, cramps, or blisters, and he knew Tsubasa must be even more keen to notice these things, but none of the signs were apparent with the twins.
They camped that night on a high cliff overlooking Feverflame Mire, a place they’d been all too happy to avoid traveling through. Alystair had taken Roland through those blazing swamps for training — and apparently, Tsubasa’s own Teacher had done much the same — and that had been enough time spent there for either of them.
“It really is quite striking, when viewed from above,” Roland said, gazing out at the vast expanse below them, flickering and bursting with plumes of fire and poisonous gas, its boiling trees swaying in the wind, shining groves of flowers — glowing because they were white-hot and scalding to the touch — forming pockets of vibrant color.
“Yes, quite lovely,” Tsubasa said, nodding sagely. “It’s amazing how one’s perspective of a place can change so drastically when they aren’t being run down by a hungry burnbear.”
“Or being forced to tiptoe past magma pustules to try and steal treasure from a fire-spitting cobra,” Roland said wistfully.
“Ah, yes, magma pustules,” Tsubasa said with a dreamy sigh. “They’re only slightly less terrible than flame ivy, and far less terrible than trying to avoid bushes of flame ivy while already treating the burns you’ve gotten from previous brushes with the ivy, while fighting off a horde of scorch-sting wasps because your Teacher thought it was cute to throw rocks at a hive and blame it on you.”
“We have so much more in common than I realized,” Roland said, copying Tsubasa’s dreamy sigh. “Then I’m sure you’ve smothered yourself in scalding mud to hide from a burnicorn stampede.”
“Ah, burnicorns, of course,” Tsubasa said, nodding. “My Teacher, who knew I believed every word he ever said, thought it hilarious to tell me they were just like unicorns, who are the most gentle creatures of all towards innocent young maidens.” Her nostalgic act was broken as she snorted despite herself, and then burst out laughing. Roland followed suit, and they both laughed for several minutes, uproarious, shameless laughter that couldn’t possibly be stopped until it had run its course.
“Oh, I do enjoy being on this adventure with you, Roland,” Tsubasa said, wiping laugh-induced tears from her eyes. “And swapping stories! Oh, I’m so glad you’ve faced some of the same kind of training I have. It gives us so much more to share!” She hopped to her feet, turning back towards the campsite a bit farther back from the edge. She held out her hand to Roland. “Looks like dinner’s almost ready. Come on.”
Roland took the offered hand and stood, and together they rejoined the twins, who were watching and listening with rapt attention as Muirrach showed and explained his entire process in brewing the soup he made for the evening’s dinner.
“Smells amazing, Muirrach!” Tsubasa said, plopping down to a seat and helping pass out bowls as Muirrach served them. For a little while, they all sat together eating in silence, enjoying the crackling of the fire, the aroma and flavor of the soup, and the presence of each other’s company.
This truly is a lovely group I’ve stumbled across. None of this was intentional, none of this was planned. I’d intended to eventually come back and meet with Eilidh, but I never thought I’d travel with her, let alone her husband. I thought…
Well, I thought I’d be walking the Path alone. Thank goodness for the unexpected.
“Erika, Enrique,” Tsubasa started as they were finishing dinner, “what are your parents like?”
“Our parents?” Enrique asked. There was a momentary guarded look in his eye, but then he looked at Erika. After a moment, and a shared look between the twins, Enrique nodded, and Erika turned to Tsubasa, smiling.
“They’re wonderful,” she said, almost breathless with joy. “I know many children say that about their parents, but it’s the truth! They’re both so intelligent, and they love teaching us. Mother says curiosity is the greatest virtue for anyone, but especially a child, to have, because learning is the richest nourishment for the soul. We’ve spent more of our life traveling than staying in one place, so learning has been more than reading or being taught things directly by our parents — though there’s been plenty of that, of course. It’s been experiencing the world, seeing it for ourselves.”
“Father says a journey, especially an unplanned journey, is the fastest path to perspective,” Enrique said. “And perspective is what helps us grow, helps us understand our place in the world and how to relate to the world around us. They… they’re both teachers at heart. That isn’t their occupation, but it’s… it’s a part of who they are. So learning was our first joy, really — because of them.”
“And they sing the most beautiful duets!” Erika said, leaning forward, eyes dancing in the firelight. “Instead of telling us stories at bed time, they always sing us to sleep.”
“The songs are stories,” Enrique said, smiling. “Many of them about Elysia. Elysia is…” He trailed off, looking guarded again.
“Their great dream,” Erika said, now looking at Enrique, smiling encouragingly. She took his hand in hers, and looked back at the others. “There are things we can’t tell you. A lot of it is actually because we can’t really remember. I know you want to ask about where we come from, but the truth is… we don’t really know. We know, of course, because we’ve been told, but it’s not a place we remember much at all. Home is a place that exists in our minds only in fragments.”
“We left when we were very little,” Enrique said, hesitant, holding onto the truth and secrets of their lives carefully. “We were still just barely learning to walk and talk when… we were on the road. We’ve been traveling ever since, never staying in one place for very long.”
Erika held up her wish-journal. “They started this,” she said. “We’re continuing it. And one day, when we’re reunited, they’ll see just how well we’ve carried on what they started. But,” she set down the journal and smiled at Tsubasa, “you know that, of course. You want to know what our parents are like, not where we’re from or why we’re on this quest. Right?”
And Tsubasa smiled the kindest smile. “That’s right,” she said. “Tell me more about them. About your mother’s smile, your father’s laugh, about their songs, their stories, their silly little quirks. Whatever matters to you, whatever makes you smile, makes your heart soar knowing that they’re your parents and they love and trust you so much.”
“They… do trust us,” Erika said, glancing just one more time at the dream journal. And then she was leaning forward again, excitement bubbling over as she spoke about those more earthy things that Tsubasa asked. About how her mother taught her that laughter was the cure for any ailment — and about how ticklish her father was, a perfect combination. About more of their songs, not just about Elysia, but about silly things, quirky rhymes that she and Enrique sang together, revealing lovely singing voices and a beautiful talent for harmonizing. Enrique shared his father’s penchant for games of strategy, and how one of Enrique’s great dreams was to one day beat him at a game called “grimlock,” a game none of the others had ever heard of before. And that only emboldened Enrique, the often reserved boy launching into an effusive explanation of the game, even drawing up the board and its pieces in his notebook to show them what it was like.
Their conversation eventually dwindled off on those happy notes, as Erika started yawning over and over again, and yawns, being deviously infectious things, soon had all of them yawning. Roland’s face hurt from laughter and smiling, and then the yawning on top of it, but it was a good kind of hurt.
As he lay down in his sleeping bag, he glanced across the fire, and saw Erika, hand-in-hand with Enrique, already asleep, a smile on her face.