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16
RENXEL
The sky is full of song as the migratory fin-fin birds flock into the valley. Their iridescent blue feathers flashing in the morning sun is normally a sight that inspires me. A sign that the long winter is almost over, and the balmy days of summer await. Well, as balmy as the Mountain Kingdom ever gets.
However, today all I can think about is Mira.
I have come down into the valley to collect the sweet-scented haliot flowers that grow here in such abundance at this time of year. I hope she likes them.
By the time I’ve finished, I have an armful of the delicate blue and white blossoms. My nostrils are filled with their heady scent.
There is an old folk tale in these parts that tells of two lovers, fated mates, who came from two warring clans. Haliot went to meet her lover for a clandestine mating ceremony, but the lover was waylaid.
It was said that when Haliot believed her lover had been killed by her own chieftain, she laid down and died of a broken heart. From the place where she lay sprang the white flowers that share her name.
Now, following this, the lover escaped his bonds and went to find Haliot. When he discovered his true love was dead, he lay down on her flower-strewn grave and joined her in the afterlife. That was when the blue center of the haliot flower appeared. From that day forth, the delicate blue and white flowers have been a mark of undying love.
As I walk back up the hill to my meeting with Mira, I wonder if the flowers are too much. Does she know the folk tale? Will she read too much into it?
I want to win her back, but I don’t want her to know the fated mate connection we have yet. It seems a bit harsh, like I’m demanding she take me back by playing the fate card. Right now, I just want her to trust me again.
For a moment, I consider throwing the flowers into the woods and walking away. But the memory of what life was like without her stays my hand. No, I need to do this. I’ll win her back, and then we’ll take it one step at a time after that.
My mind runs through a litany of things that I could say to sway her, but none of them seem adequate. Somewhere deep inside, I know that honesty is the only real course of action with Mira. She does not suffer fools gladly.
But why did I decide to ghost her? Because she was foolish enough to get too close? Because I’ve never had a serious relationship in my life? Because… No, even to myself I can’t go there. Because… because I was scared. There, I admitted it. The thought of being in a serious relationship, of having a fated mate, terrified me.
With the admission comes a sense of calmness. I did not want Mira close to me because she made me feel vulnerable, and that is something I have never allowed myself to be.
Well, maybe it’s time I learned that it’s okay. My resolve gives me strength. I am not a quitter, and I will not back downfrom this. I have to win her back, even if it means feeling uncomfortable.
I pause outside her door. I suddenly feel tongue-tied. I don’t usually have to think about what I want to say. But I also realize that I don’t usually want anything this much.
Well, here goes nothing. I raise my fist and rap on the door.
Mira doesn’t answer straight away, and I half think she’s ignoring me.
Suddenly, the door opens. She is standing before me, an unreadable expression on her face. “Come in,” she says, glancing at the flowers as she steps aside to allow me access.
I enter her tiny home. The furniture is sparse but well cared for. A small sofa and an easy chair sit in front of a roaring fire. I can see she has been sitting on the sofa by the empty mug on the coffee table beside it. I head for the easy chair and perch on the edge.
“I picked these for you,” I say, handing her the flowers.
“Thank you,” she says. “They’re beautiful. They’re haliot flowers aren’t they?”
I flinch slightly. She might know the folk tale. But, hey, I’m here for reconciliation. She can read as much into it as she wants.
“Yes, they are,” I tell her. “I went down into the valley/ They’re abundant there this time of year. The fin-fin birds are back, too. Spring is definitely coming.”
“How lovely. I’ll have to take a walk down there,” she replies stiffly.
For a moment, I’m left alone as she goes into the kitchen to retrieve a vase. I have to get past the small talk and tell her how I feel.
Mira returns, looking as nervous as I feel. She sits down on the sofa, staring intently at her hands clasped on her lap.
“I’m sorry,” I blurt, all my well-practiced speeches evaporating in the moment. “I’ve been acting like a real jerk.”
She looks at me intently but doesn’t respond. Her pale brown eyes seem to see deep within me, piercing my soul. But instead of making me feel exposed, her gaze gives me warmth and comfort. Something in their depths gives me the courage to go on.
