The delicate mist that came from the crashing cascade landed lightly and cool on the cheeks of the one the angel called Reye. As the droplets of that mist landed, Reye was forced with the realization of his vulnerability. He considered the sensation on his face to be pleasant, even in contrast to the equally pleasant and growing warmth that felt as a ragged cap atop his head. The coolness and crispy pinch that the mist brought to his face gave him a sense of relief. Relief in knowing that the increasing heat could not consume him. Yet, had it not been for the relief of the cold, Reye may not have ever considered the warmth to be a potential threat. That, the potential to be overwhelmed by something he considered to be good, made him uneasy.
“And where would you like to go?” he asked the golden female.
“Home.”
That place. There had never been another soul in that place. The place where Reye used to dance. There were thoughts and images and intentions, but he had always been alone. The memory had come at the sound of the word, but it was only his memory.
“I suppose I’ve never actually been,” Aurelie spoke gleefully, “but I’ve always wanted to visit.”
“You’ve always wanted to go home.”
“Come home.”
“And you consider it yours?”
“You consider it mine,” she corrected him. Her jet hair had stopped framing her face, and the burning eyes glinted while that hair whipped around in the growing wind. The wind. It had come suddenly and was now blowing from every direction while the ground beneath the pair cracked and groaned. Reye began to walk, and the shining girl hesitated. Had he started off in the opposite direction, she might have followed, but he had turned to make stride into the strongest of the blowing winds. The grounds sank beneath his bare feet and filled with clouded water as those feet left their depressions.
Aurelie squinted an eye and tilted her head.
Reye stopped, but did not turn to face the girl. “You should go first.”
“Go?”
“Yes.” His tone was gentle, but he spoke quickly. “I’d rather be able to see you while we walk.”
Aurelie focused her gaze on the large boy with the deep voice and tilted her head to the other side. “Ok.”
She seemed to move without touching the ground as she passed Reye, and as she passed he focused his eyes just ahead of her, where growing green stalks sprouted darkened buds that blossomed into purple, red, indigo and yellow blooms.
Reye smiled, and Aurelie turned her head away while she continued into the expanding valley between the cascades and the rolling hills. He was following just behind her, close enough to reach out and grab her left hand, if he desired.
Sunlight reflected shimmering from the surface of the water in the little pools that the pair left behind. The water was clear.
Politically Romantic 