The grass is cool and ticklish as I lie on the ground. Beside me, a cemented marker lies with the words:

Symone
beloved wife and ruler

The stones and pebbles and grass make a comforting bed for me. I reach out and touch the carving, letting my finger ease the dirt from letters. A small wind picks up and I caress the bouquet of flowers that I have brought here this morning. Roses.

She was beautiful, a beautiful princess. I loved her.

I have failed you, haven't I, Symone?

Husband. Husband...isn't that Rugarai?

Failed...Rugarai won't even look at me? I wish you're still alive. Only you. You. Symone.

Love

I feel a disturbance in the grass. I raise my head slightly, narrowing my eyes against the sun. A beautiful figure, gliding prettily over the grass. I smile and raise an arm in a form of a greeting. "Hello, Sizin-sama."

He stops before me and I blink. The sun makes a silver halo out of his hair. "You're pretty," I tell him truthfully.

He ignores me and kneels before the grave. I scowl at his lack of attention but I notice his hands clasped beneath his long-sleeved robes. His mouth presses together quietly and his eyes close and I suddenly realize he is praying. Quietly, guiltily, I sit up and fold my hands as well.

After a while, his eyes open and his body relaxes. He actually smiles at me. "Here again?"

I giggle. I cannot help him. Such a ridiculous question! "Everyday!" I reply lightly.

We sit side-by-side, watching the grave, as if expecting someone to rise from the land. Maybe we do.

I feel awkward with the silence, feeling I should somehow say something. I have never been silent before, but five years can change someone. "Jet-sama?"

Sizin shrugs. "He called for his carriage a while ago. I suspect he's going to town. Or here."

"Then why are you here?" I ask, not helping myself for being curious.

He shrugs. "I know him," he says quietly. "He wouldn't come here for now."

I reach out and touch the marker once more. Cool. Rough. Smooth. Warm. All at the same time. "Sizin..."

"I've been wondering a lot," he interrupts. I am silent. Sizin's words have always been important. He does not say much, but in the past, he has always been reliable. "Especially now. I don't know why. I think Rugarai hates it."

"How is he?"

He gives a small short laugh. "Still the same. How are you, Rayla?"

I feel a lump on my throat and tears pierce my eyes. I look away. "You're so cruel sometimes, Sizin."

"Am I?" he muses. "I've been wondering about that, too." He looks down. "Roses."

"Be careful, they have--"

He grabs one and squeezes it. I stop and grimace, watching the blood drip from his hand. "--thorns," I finish uselessly. I sigh. Sizin is also sometimes so impulsive. Maybe it comes from being the head son of a powerful clan.

"Where is your brother, anyway?" I ask him suddenly.

He spares me a glance. "Aysin? Somewhere far, far away, I expect. I expect him to be happy, at least. He deserves that."

"You're not?"

He laughs again. It scares me, his laughter. It is so dry and short. "Have you noticed anyone here smile anymore, Rayla?"

I stop. "But if you're not happy, why do you stay here?"

"Why do you stay here?" he asks, suddenly challenging. "Does staying here make you happy? Does dwelling in the past do you any good?"

I feel a sudden rush of pain in my chest and I hurl myself against him angrily. "You have some right to talk!" I scream, furious.

He grabs my wrist and suppresses me. "I've been hit once today, Rayla, and I do not want to be hit again!" His voice, full of wrath and anger, drains my energy and I let myself go limp. His fingers around my lips lighten before finally returning to his lap. And with the turn of his head, I see his swelling jaw.

"He hit you, didn't he?" I ask in awe.

Sizin rubs his jaw thoughtfully. "Hm. He packed quite a punch." He laughs, but this time, it is weak.

"Why?"

"I kissed him, you know."

It sounds like it isn't the reason. But the statement catches my attention. "Shit. You love him?"

"Maybe I did, once." He falls silent, before he sighs. "Yes."

I look away. "I did, too. Not now. I don't know why. Maybe it's because of Symone."

"The dead again," he remarks. "We never let go of our dead, do we? Are we really just suicidal or sadists? It's like we can never have another festival without these ghosts of ours." He smiles, grabbing yet another rose. "Rayla...do you think, we know what love is?"

I bite my lips. "You love Rugarai, don't you? You must know."

"Sometimes, I wonder if I do know. Is 'love' wishing for death? It isn't, is it?"

love
symone
death

"I used to know," I tell him. My eyes fill with tears and I clench my hands over my lap, trying to stop myself from crying. "I used to know. I don't know now. I don't."

The sound of hoofbeats make us stand and turn around. We see an elegant carriage stop a few meters away from us. The door opens and Tasuki, Friar-Monk, and Rugarai climb down. They stop at the sight of us, and Tasuki makes a move to step in front of Rugarai, as if protecting him. Rugarai does not notice.

Sizin steps forward, smiling broadly. "Good day," he tells them pleasantly. "I would like to stay with you but I'm afraid I have other appointments."

"Like what?" Rugarai asks, a little coldly.

Sizin's head snaps towards him and his eyes narrow. "Appointments," he repeats softly, almost dangerously.

Rugarai shrugs, then his eyes follow the hand Sizin brushes against his silver-white hair. "What's that?" he asks suddenly.

I turn and notice that coppery blood has gone into Sizin's hair. He looks down at his palm, eyes disconcerted. "Blood," he says dumbly. I reach out and touch his hand, pulling out my handkerchief.

Five years ago, blood spilled across the land

I tie the handkerchief around his palm, eyes unfocused once more. I cannot understand it.

I look up at Sizin. His eyes are sorrowful. I have never seen him cry. "Sizin-sama," I utter helplessly.

"Appointments," he mutters again, pulling away from me. I put an arm around his waist and we begin to walk back to the town, leaving Tasuki, Friar-Monk and Rugarai to stare at us. Monk's eyes are cold, now; perhaps he hates me as well.

"Sizin?"

"Dead," he tells me hollowly.

And we do not look back.