Young Writers Society

Strong golden sunlight flooded the city. The sun had risen, sparkling on newly fallen snow a foot thick. Silira looked out her window at the shining sea and the glorious morning, but didn't smile. That fear of hers was growing by the second. Something bad would happen.

With that happy thought, she dressed, put on her coat because it was cold, and went downstairs. It was around ten. She didn't usually sleep this long, but she had been very tired lately. Maybe running up the long stairs of the Keep three days ago had had something to do with it. She was just as graceful now as she had been in her first days of being human, but the time of dancing was long past. She walked slowly and stayed in her room most of the time, unless she was with Corwin.

Where was he, anyhow? The parade was at eleven, she thought. They would be down in the city to watch, at the house of some rich merchant, and eat lunch after that. She hadn't eaten much in the last few days, either. Did Corwin know something was wrong? He had been nice to her these last few days--when he saw her, that is.

He hadn't been with her as much. It was because of the way she had looked when they ate their first supper there, though she didn't know that. She thought he was just busy preparing for the holiday month. He was excited, after all. But his exuberant personality didn't even cheer her up any more.

In the common room, one floor above the dining room, where most people hung out when they didn't have anything better to do, Silira sat down on a sofa and spaced out. It was a nice room, with fur rugs on the floor, armchairs, two bookcases, and a fireplace that branched out from a chimney that ran the whole height of the Keep. A few people were there, one girl adjusting her hairstyle in a mirror hanging on the wall, and two young boys having a slap fight by a window. Everything around her spoke of joy and celebration. 'Twas the season to be merry, but Silira had no heart for it.

There were steps coming up the stairs, and Corwin came in the door. "Excuse me, ladies, you two gentlemen having a slap fight, have any of you seen--Oh." He smiled and came in. "Milady. It's a good morning." He tried to pretend he didn't notice the subtle despair in Silira's eyes. "Wilt thou come down with me and ride within the carriage of his lordship, one noble Tiernan, to observe an inspiring sight?"

Silira got up slowly and went out with him. The few people also in the common room stayed behind, probably waiting for someone. He kept up a steady stream of talk as they made their way out of the Keep. A carriage was waiting for them. Corwin handed Silira up, and she took a seat across from Tiernan. Corwin swung up and sat next to her, closing and latching the door.

"Sir, yea verily and thou dost have...hast? Thou dost...hast...a most inspiring prospect in Caer Ebon. Truly it givest thou joy to preside over this great city..." He went on, Tiernan occasionally interjecting but usually listening and looking amused, Silira looking out the window at the festivities going on around the carriage as they went downhill.

"And th'art a most gracious host..." Corwin was going on desperately, trying to distract himself from that look in Silira's eyes, when they pulled up and he nearly fell off the seat. There was the sound of bells ringing all over the city, and one in the Keep. Lord Tiernan, though a bad guy, was not immune to inspiring scenes. He jumped out of the carriage, a smile on his face, long brown coat spinning out. "It's a good morning, Caer Ebon!" he shouted, spinning around in the middle of the street and nimbly avoiding a pile of horse crap. They were in front of the merchant's house.

Before Corwin could help her out of the carriage, Silira slipped out alone, not looking at him. They understood each other too well to think she was angry, but Corwin still worried about her. He had no idea why she would suddenly act like this. Was it something he said? He wondered what it could be as they made their way into the house.

An imposing man, who looked as if he was part Southron, greeted them cordially and showed them up to a large balcony overlooking the street. A few of the nobles were already there, but no guards. No one would try to assassinate anyone, not now, when an entire regiment was coming through town in fifteen minutes. Silira leaned on the railing and listened to the conversation. Corwin asked her a few questions, just so things wouldn't look weird, but he mostly spoke to the other Eleschic guests. He couldn't stand that look of hers.

The bells kept ringing. Actually, the one in the Keep had rung first, as soon as the two slap-fighting boys had seen the approaching soldiers from the top of the tower and shouted to the girl who'd been looking in the mirror, and all of Caer Ebon had heard it and begun to ring their own bells. Now there was the sound of trumpets and drums in the distance. "They're coming! They're coming!" everyone shouted. The streets were crowded, some of the spectators from far-off countries.

Then the regiment marched into Caer Ebon.

It was a beautiful sight. The streets were lined with cheering people wearing their best, all eager to begin the holidays, the flag of Aeryn flew on all sides, bells rung and the army's drums and trumpets were going full tilt, playing the anthem. Everyone began to sing. Corwin was caught up in the moment. Everyone was, except Silira. She leaned against the balcony railing, looking at it all. "Left out" would not go far enough to describe what she was feeling. More like the strongest outside-looking-in complex ever. She remembered another glorious time, back when she had turned eighteen, singing the lay of Rory the sailor in the middle of the palace. She missed Twilight, missed being a mermaid, missed being known as a princess, having a tongue, swimming through the depths of the sea, feeling as if she was flying.

The military parade passed out of the city after a while. When it had gone, Corwin was no longer acknowledging her presence. It hurt too much. Silira didn't even notice. She went through the motions of eating lunch and socializing, at least as much as someone who can't speak can socialize. She didn't even notice the pain in her feet any more. When it was time to leave, Lord Tiernan casually got her attention and told her it was time to go, without embarrassing her or even asking if something was the matter. Because everyone could see it now. When someone gives up hope, it doesn't always show, but it did if you looked at Silira, which everyone did.

Silira blinked. They were in the Keep. Since when had they been in the Keep? It was getting dark outside. Corwin was walking into his room, saying, "It's a good night, everyone," without looking back at her or anyone.

He could tell something was wrong. She knew she couldn't afford to look this way any more. She would pretend to be happy, for Corwin's sake. He still cared about her, after all...