Chapter 83: Book 2-06.3: The Harvest Moon

Heron couldn’t keep the smile off his face while he stood in front of his bedroom mirror, trying to style his hair just so. His dark hair would have grown into unruly curls if he hadn’t had it styled short though really, it was more his father’s idea back when he was six years old in an effort to keep it from getting to his eyes.

It was no longer as short as it normally was--it was in that awkward stage where it was long enough that it refused to stay orderly, but too short to be pressed down by its own weight. He had to resort to using a styling clay from his father’s wardrobe, something he would never have dared to do if Balliol were around. Granted, his father normally used this on his moustache and not on the hair on top of his head.

The result was that Heron’s hair had turned into spiky clumps. He’d had to wash it off and apply a little less clay the second time around. He was already running a bit late by the time he finished, with the sun halfway down from its zenith. He should be on his way to meet Yuriko at her house in a few minutes and yet there he was, still in his underwear.

Riffling through his closet, he picked out an off-white shirt to go under his dress coat, red with purple highlights, and a pair of tight-fitting slacks that showed off the shape of his calves. The coat and the shirt were made of treated cotton, easily breathable, otherwise the sweltering heat of mid-Fire Season would have drenched him in sweat the moment he stepped out of the house.

He dabbed a bit of cologne on his neck, again something he nicked out of his dad’s closet. He’d never really been one for these kinds of things but now he felt it was a bit inadequate. He ran a hand over his chin. He’d spent a precious few minutes shaving off the little whiskers that plagued his face. He cut himself a couple of times, too, but Recovery took care of that.

Satisfied with how he looked--he dabbed a bit more cologne on his neck--Heron made his way out of his room and down the stairs.

“Well, someone’s feeling fancy,” Teresa quipped from inside her room. She had a summer dress on with narrow straps that exposed the length of her tanned shoulders. Her hair was piled up in a tower of curls and she wore a silver pendant on her neck.

“So are you,” Heron muttered.

“Got a date?” Teresa snickered. “Is it that Davar girl or did some other lady catch your eye and was crazy enough to agree?”

Heron flushed and looked away. “It’s Yuriko.”

“Oh.” Teresa came up behind him and poked him in the back. “Good for you!”

Heron shrugged uncomfortably.

“Hmmm,” Teresa sniffed, “is that…dad’s Spring Breeze?”

“Er…”

“You put on too much.”

“Oh, um, I…”

“Well, you won’t be able to remove that without a long hot bath,” Teresa grinned. “Just stand downwind.”

Heron’s shoulders slumped.

“Hie hie.” She patted him on the back. “Just go have fun. First cup of Harvest Festival Beer’s special.”

“Thanks, big sis.”

In the living room, their mother, Tegan, was sitting on the sofa with an absent look in her eyes. She wasn’t dressed up at all and her blouse was a bit rumpled. On the small table was a pitcher and a mug. From the smell, it was strong liquor, and she’d had more than one mug.

“Mum,” Heron said, guts twisting with some guilt.

“Oh, Heron, Teresa.” Her voice was slightly slurred. “Enjoy…enjoy the festival.” She staggered to her feet and walked them to the front door.

“I think I’ll stay home.” Teresa said suddenly.

Tegan laughed. “No, I’ll be fine. Get going.” She pushed both of them out the door and slammed it shut.

Brother and sister exchanged glances.

“I’ll be home early,” Teresa whispered.

Heron nodded. The two of them ambled to the Circuit Tram’s waiting shed. It didn’t take too long before he regained his spirits. The festive air of the Central District masked the ravages of the Wyldling Wave expertly. Since the district hadn’t been touched at all, there was little to repair. The Barrier’s runescript had long been repaired and strengthened, and the drain cubes on the lamp posts had been recharged. The ribbons, the poles, the wreaths, all combined to rouse the sleepy town.

“Isn’t your date picking you up?” Heron asked.

“Nah, we’re meeting at the square. Besides, we’re not seeing each other.”

“Ah.”

They took the same Circuit Tram but Heron got off one stop earlier. He walked down West Avenue with butterflies fluttering in his guts. The sun was nearly unbearably warm and his undershirt was getting damp.

Round the curve, he walked up the Davar Household’s walkway. He really admired their front lawn with its perfectly trimmed grass and the wild burst of colour from the flower bushes. The arrangement of decorative stones along the edge somehow drew the eyes, leading them to the centrepiece: a marble carving of a rose.

He took a deep breath. He was stalling. Now was his chance to really make an impression with her. He always thought that it would be hard to get along with Yuriko. Her face was often emotionless and her eyes pierced whatever she was staring at. Coupled with her unearthly beauty, it was hard to get close to her.

If he was being honest, part of the reason he was so hard on Mikel Pike was that the other boy interacted with Yuriko so easily and naturally. Other than the fact that the little idiot couldn’t decide whether he would get up on the right or left side of the bed.

He gathered his courage to the sticking place. He’d been inside the house several times, he'd even met the dreaded elder brothers though he hadn’t talked to her father yet. But since her father and his were teammates on a mission, well, maybe his chances were better than those of the sleazy twins.

Or maybe he was thinking too much. Both of them were too young to think of settling down, anyway. But if he was complacent, the way she looks and acts, he wouldn’t be surprised by the line of suitors that’d line up her door once they were in Rumiga City.

Thok thok.

The door opened a few moments after he knocked. She stood behind it looking like a masterpiece with a hand resting on her hip and the other on the door. If he could paint her image and capture it on canvas even half, no, a third as beautiful as the real thing, then he would be lauded as a grandmaster artist.

She had on a pale blue summer dress with a halter top that showed off her pale shoulders. It was cinched at the waist and the hem hung just above her knees. Her shoes were open-toed and her hair was loose, golden tresses curling gently all the way to just below her bottom. Her blue eyes stared into his, seemingly able to divine every secret, every thought he had.

Her nose twitched and she gave a cute little sneeze. Heron felt his face burn.

“Excuse me,” she muttered. “Come in, please.”

“You’re late, Muryh!” Mikel Pike called out from the living room sofa. Krystal Zorin took one look at him and started giggling.

“You look a bit silly,” Krystal chortled.

“What?” he groused. “It's a formal occasion.”

Krystal was dressed similarly to Yuriko while Mikel was wearing a far more casual ensemble.

“He looks nice,” Yuriko said, making his heart flutter madly in the process.

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Krystal gave him a smirk.

“So, where are we off to? The feast isn’t until sundown,” Mikel asked.

“I thought we should visit the campus, you know, a final farewell to our childhood role before we cross the fence?” Heron offered.

“I suppose that’s better than just waiting here,” Yuriko smiled.

“The twins will be at the feast, I think,” Krystal said with a sly smile. Heron couldn’t help but sigh; not so much at those golden-haired cretins but the fact that he couldn’t think of a way to get back at Krystal easily.

“Leaving so soon?” Yuriko’s elder brother, Kato walked into the living room. “Hmm, what’s that smell?” He shook his head, gave Heron a head to toe look and smirked. “Dipped too much in the sauce, haven’t you?”

“N-no. Just put a bit too much.”

“Achoo!” Yuriko sneezed again and Heron wanted to jump into the river.

“Should be better out in the open,” Mikel observed drily.

“Bye, Kato. See you at the feast?” Yuriko rubbed her nose.

“Yeah, probably not.” Kato shrugged. “Go have fun!”

The campus was a Circuit Tram ride away. Evidently, most of the under-thirteens were already headed there since the waiting shed near her house was bursting at the seams with kids.

“Big sis!”

A sandy blonde-haired boy waved at them.

“Rami!” Yuriko waved.

“Big sis!” A couple other boys next to Yuriko’s brother waved at them too.

“Where’re you headed?” Yuriko asked.

“The children’s park. They’ve already set up the battle game.”

“You three on one side?”

“Duh!”

“Oh, you,” Yuriko ruffled Rami’s head. She glanced at the waiting shed. The line was about fifty kids long. “Let’s walk.”

Heron nodded along with the other two. The campus wasn’t that far away anyway. The afternoon was starting to cool with the afternoon breeze and they kept to a leisurely walk. He walked beside Yuriko while Krystal and Mikel followed a few paces behind.

Yuriko looked lost in thought as she stared at the mountains to the east or the border to the west, whichever way the road happened to face. Heron grew uncomfortable in the silence and he cast his thoughts on how to fill it.

“So, uhm, how is your, er, training going along?”

“Passable,” she said after a moment. “Yours?”

“Well, I think I’m ready to inlay a technique. Though I think I’ll get Armsmaster Byrne’s opinion before I go ahead.”

“Empowered Strike?”

Heron nodded. “It’s quite versatile. Advancing it means I’ll be able to empower any strike with Animus, whether to attack or defend. Plus, the Heritage indicates most of my Ancestors did the same thing and it meshes well with how I want to progress my Facet.”

“Oh? How do you want to progress? You did a very good job protecting us,” she said with a bright smile.

Heron coughed into his fist, more to remind him to keep talking instead of staring. She was still a little bit taller than he was, so their eyes were roughly level. He didn’t want to lose himself in her eyes so he wrenched his gaze forward.

“What about you? What are you thinking to inlay?”

“I’m not sure yet.”

“Empowered Strike is a solid choice. Besides, wasn’t your Facet non-combat? It would be a good fit.”

Yuriko shook her head. “Did you ever notice how long it took me to coat my weapons with Animus?”

Heron thought back but couldn’t really say. “Not really.”

“Well, my Facet gave me a technique for it and it’s really not suitable for inlaying.” She shook her head. “I’m thinking more along the line of sense enhancement. I’m already versed in vision-enhancing techniques. The Davar Heritage would have included it, but well...”

“You still want to be a long-range marksman?”

“It’s what my Da trained me for.”

“Funny, you’re pretty good within melee.” Heron snorted. “Much better, in fact. Why don’t you play to your strengths?”

Yuriko smiled wryly. “A year ago I wouldn’t have imagined taking advice from you. But thanks, Heron. It’s food for thought.”

Heron nodded silently but inside he was screaming in triumph.

They finally arrived at the campus. Yesterday, most of the temporary camps had been dismantled with the residents moving back into their houses. Reconstruction efforts had been accelerated greatly with the aid of Legion Vagaris.

The open space between the campus’ main building and the training hall had been filled with stalls. The sizzling smells of grilling fish and assorted meats hung in the air. Heron felt his mouth water despite himself.

“Have fun, you two!” Krystal yelled while she dragged Mikel off to the food stalls. “Meet back here an hour before sunset, alright!”

Yuriko nodded but started following behind them anyway, led by her nose. Smiling ruefully, Heron followed behind.

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