It was quiet in Blueblood’s house, somewhat to his surprise. Oz was busy at work outside, tending to one of the many gardens that surrounded the property, and aside from the hose being turned on, he didn’t make a sound. Both the bottom floor and top floors were filled with that same silence; it would have unnerved him had he not been concentrating on something else.

Blueblood sat in his room, pooling over his laptop. It vibrated and hummed at a low intensity, not enough to interrupt his thoughts. His backpack, along with his books, binders, and school supplies, lay beside him on the bed, finished and placed aside. He had opened a web page and currently was scrolling through its contents, reading what it posted thoroughly. He frowned. The information was very new to him, yet he couldn’t help but think it was almost familiar. He couldn’t place exactly why, and kept reading.

Interesting… so that’s her? And that’s him? Odd; I feel like there would be more to it than this…

He moved the curser over to the “back” button and was about to click it, when the silence of the mansion was cut by a clear, yet quiet call.

“Blueblood?”

His ears perked up. Aurora. Looking over his laptop, he saw her standing in his doorway, her face bright-red. With the door halfway closed, that was the only thing visible. Hiding behind doorways… he recalled that that had been a habit of hers since she was little; she obviously had yet to break it.

“What is it, Aurora?” he asked. “Come to annoy me again?”

“Actually, I need your advice.”

“Can’t it wait? I’m busy.”

“Doing what?”

“None of your business. You didn’t answer my question.”

“No, it can’t wait. It’s… kind of important.”

“Do I have to give it while you stand behind the door?”

“No…”

Blueblood sighed. “Aurora, please. We’re cousins, and while we may not always get along, I promise that I won’t bite.”

“I know, Blue-Blue… it’s just a bit embarrassing, that’s all.”

“If it’s so embarrassing, then maybe you should ask someone else. Like Oz, or—” He paused. “Or my mother or father. Or perhaps your aunt.”

“It’s too late for that,” she said with a shake of her head. “And, no offense to Ozzy, but I don’t think he’d quite understand.”

“Fair enough. Fine. What is it?”

She hesitated for a second, before finally pushing the door fully open. Her face somehow managed to turn a shade darker. In her hands, she held up two dresses that were placed between clear, plastic baggage. In her left was a light-blue one, almost a teal color, and it was very plain and simple. In her other hand was one dress of a similar color scheme as her Winnipiac school uniform, though it was one solid color—navy—all the way down.

“I, uh, picked these out when I went shopping a few days ago,” she said, still blushing. “They were… kind of expensive.”

“Not to worry; we’ve the money.”

She nodded, but still looked nervous. “And, uh, I… I can’t decide which one I should wear.”

“Really?” He looked at both the dresses. “I know I wear a lot of fancy clothes, Aurora, but am I really the person you want to be asking? I’m not expert in fashion, you know.”

“Yeah, I know. But you’re the most honest person I know!”

That stung, and Blueblood visibly cringed. Winnipiac, as incredibly diverse as it was, was not free of the natural corruption that schools often bred. Already there had been several rumors and allegations going around that ranged from fantastically plausible to fantastically… well, fantastic. Sure, it was a good school, but if Aurora had to use Blueblood, of all people, as a comparison for honesty, then perhaps it wasn’t as good as he had believed.

He cleared his throat. “You may think that, Aurora, but what good would that do if I don’t know what I’m talking about?”

She tilted her head. “Well, for one, if you think they’re both awful, you won’t hold back.”

“True, but those are the only dresses you have, aren’t they?”

Aurora hung her head and heaved a heavy sigh. “Yeah, they are… I know you can’t really help me, Blue-Blue, but… you’re really the only one here I can turn to.”

She turned to leave, but Blueblood closed his laptop and stood up. “Hold on for a moment, Aurora,” he said. “At least let me look at the dresses again, would you?”

She turned back around and nodded. She moved a little closer, letting Blueblood get a better look. Rubbing his chin in a manner similar to a certain friend, he examined each and every part of the dress to the best of his ability. They were the same size, but of different material, though what specifically he couldn’t decipher. The light-blue one was also much lighter; if she went out in just that, she might catch a cold. The navy dress, meanwhile, was of a heavier sort, likely due to the different in material. Both suffered from being more plain-looking.

“Any particular reason why you chose these two?” he asked, looking up.

“Um… besides I liked the way they looked?”

“But you’ve worn more vibrant dresses in the past. And, if you’re twelfth birthday was any indication, you usually like wearing something with more pizzaz.” He raised an eyebrow. “So why choose—not that I’m judging you, because there’s something objectively pleasant about the simple—clothing like this?”

Inwardly, Blueblood wondered why clothes that were indeed this simple were still expensive. While he’d never wandered into a thrift store before, he wondered if these were the kinds of clothes you’d find there.

“It’s, um… complicated.”

“Really?” He took the light-blue dress and held it out, pulling at the sleeves. “A complicated reason for non-complicated clothing? Are you a poet, Aurora?”

“I’d like to be; you know that.”

“Right.”

“But it is complicated. I don’t know if you’d understand.”

“Try me.”

She hesitated, again. Only when he had given back the dress did she finally speak up. “Okay. Um… you know how, when you meet people, you want to give a certain kind of first impression?”

“Of course I do, Aurora. I was raised to provide the best kind of first impression.”

“And usually that’s done so that people like you, right?”

“Yes, that’s right.”

“Well… I want someone to like me. And I want to give a good first impression. So it’s got to be right. And it’s… it’s gotta be something that the person would like. At least, what I think they’d like… does that make sense?”

Blueblood nodded. “In other words, you want to impress someone.”

Her blush only grew more ferocious, and she giggled nervously. He smiled. “Then the next logical question is, of course, who is this person that you oh-so-badly want to impress?”

She hid behind the dresses, and Blueblood could still see her red face. “U-uh… it’s… it’s nobody you’d know…”

“Alright, let me guess; that kid you met on the street while shopping yesterday? What was his name, Tickle Taps?”

“Tender Taps. But it’s not him…”

“No? Hmm… how about one of your classmates?”

“No…”

“Me?”

“Ew, Blueblood. Of course not. It’s… it’s actually someone you would know…”

His smile widened. “Oh? So you were lying. Okay.” He proceeded to list off a bunch of random names, all of which were familiar to him, none of which were familiar to her. At least half were just a mishmash of two people’s names that he threw in as a joke.

Judging by her nervous laughter that kept increasing in pitch, Aurora was quickly waning. “No, it’s none of them!”

“Are you sure? Then let me list off another thirty—”

“Blue… you know who it is already.”

He sighed, still smiling. “Of course I do, Aurora. You’re not much of a liar; you’re too transparent, too easy to read.”

“Gee, thanks.”

She gently placed the dresses onto one side of the bed, before plopping down next to her cousin. He let out another pensive sigh. “So it is No Clue. Hmm. Do you really think he’d like those dresses?”

She shrugged. “He doesn’t strike me as someone who likes the rich things, like we do. So… I figured it was worth taking that risk.”

“And you came to me because you thought I knew Clue the best, and would be able to verify that risk, didn’t you?”

She rolled her eyes. “Transparent as a silvery veil, am I?”

“Come now, Aurora. The Borealis is anything but transparent.” He meant it as a joke, but she did not smile. “Oh, don’t be so moody, cousin mine. You know I meant it as a jest.”

“I know, Blue… but this isn’t something I want to joke about.” She turned to him, eyes shimmering; was she about to cry? “I know it’s a bit weird for me to act this way, but… I’ve never had a crush before. And Clue just seems… he just seems right.”

He raised an eyebrow, then looked away. “So you are indeed serious about going to the Hallows’ Eve Event,” he said.

“Of course! Why wouldn’t I be?”

“A small part of me thought that you were going because you wanted to annoy me.”

“No! Well, actually… okay, maybe that’s part of it. But—”

“But you want to go because you want to see him,” he finished. “And perhaps to swoon him over, and then to have him carry you into the sunset?”

She blushed heavily once again. “I-I was just thinking of… trying to dance with him, that’s all!”

Blueblood laughed. “Oh, I know. Aurora, you are far too pure to consider such things. You’ve probably never read a romance novel ever, have you?”

“Only one, I think…”

“Thus you are not caught up in some misguided fantasy about what love is and what love demands. You should count yourself lucky; not everyone can be free of such a storybook mindset.”

Blueblood briefly looked away, remembering Rarity. He meant what he said not as scorn, but as words derived from experience. Based on the fact that she and Clyde were together and had been together for a good amount of time, perhaps they, too, had escaped that fantasy.

He tapped the dresses beside him. “You’ve good taste, Aurora. And though I don’t know No Clue’s personal fashion biases, I think it is safe to say that he’ll like either.”

“I sense a ‘but,’ there, Blue.”

“But I personally think you’d look more complete in this navy one.” He turned to her and winked. “It’ll bring out your hair.”

Aurora finally smiled; it made Blueblood’s heart soar. “You… you really think he’ll like this one, then?” she asked, indicating the navy dress.

Blueblood looked back at the dress. “Clue is an interesting person, Aurora. Choosing to live by a moniker that, out of context, sounds mocking, yet being willing to embrace it; coming from a much higher-standard family, much like ourselves, but willing to live like a commoner; yes, Aurora. I think he’ll very much like this.”

“Enough that he might actually want to dance with me?”

“Of course he—”

The boy paused. He grimaced; he’d completely forgotten! Clue was already planning on dancing with someone; namely, Rainbow Dash. And, if his mannerisms had suggested anything, he wanted to dance with her for a good while.

Aurora, seeing his grimace, asked, “What’s wrong, Blueblood?”

“Er, nothing. Just a bit of a stomach bug, that’s all.” He cleared his throat. How best to rectify this? “Um… Aurora. No Clue is…” He searched for the perfect half-truth. “He’s… on the popular side. So… there’s a good chance he’ll be… busy during the dance.”

She blinked. “Busy? Like, making out with all the girls?”

“What? Of course not! Clue’s not—he’d never—” Blueblood suddenly had the image of the boy attempting to swap spit with someone else. “Ugh. No, Aurora, of course not. He’s more tame than that.”

“Oh…”

“What I mean is, he’ll… probably be dancing a lot. With others. Girls,” he clarified. Awkwardly rubbing the back of his head, he continued, “So… don’t expect to get front row seats with Clue, okay?”

To his surprise, Aurora let out a dismissive “pfft.” “I’m not that desperate, Blue. Even if it’s just once dance…” She sighed dreamily. “It’ll be enough.”

Blueblood looked at her. Her eyes were sharp and filled with intelligence, and despite her occasional klutziness, he knew deep down that she was the kind of kid who’d go far in life if she put her mind to it. A soft smile grew on his face, and she noticed.

“What are you smiling about?”

Blueblood reached around and grabbed her across the shoulders, pulling her in for a hug. “Nothing. It’s just… you’re growing up, Aurora. And despite our differences, I don’t think I’d be any prouder.”

She squirmed. “Geez, Blue; when you’d get so sentimental and sappy?”

“Must be from my friends.”

They hugged it out for a good while; long enough for the sun to noticeably shift, and the shadows that crossed Blueblood’s floor grew more slanted. But the hug was nice and warm and comforting. It reminded Blueblood of being a young boy and his only friend had been Aurora. How fitting, he mused, that we’d be here together once again.

He grabbed his laptop and opened it. He clicked the “back” button and waited as the cursor generated and began to circulate.

“What about you?” Aurora suddenly asked.

“Hmm? What do you mean?”

She flicked her head up, pushing aside her pink bangs and looking at Blueblood somewhat sleepily. “Who are you going with? You never told me?”

He chuckled. “Must have slipped my mind. I’ll be going with Blossomforth. Nice girl, honestly.”

“Got a suit?”

“The best-pressed tuxedo that money can buy. Of course, Canterlot is a bit limited in selection, but I think it’ll, as you say, ‘be enough.’”

“You’re gonna dance?”

“Obviously.”

“Can you still dance?”

“Of course I can, Aurora. I taught you a few moves, you know.”

“Funny,” she replied, slipping out of the hug and adopting a decidedly-Bluebloodian smirk. “I seem to recall that I taught you a few things, too.”

He scoffed. “Aurora Veil, are you implying that you are a better dancer than I am?”

“Maybe I am. After all, you haven’t practiced in a good while.”

“Oh, that’s it!” Blueblood pushed the laptop aside, standing up. “You and me, dear cousin mine. Downstairs, in the living room. Dance-off.”

She grinned. “You’re on! Last one down is a rotten egg!”

She and he dashed out of the room, laughing and goading each other as they went. Blueblood’s laptop let out a soft ping just as he was out of the room. More results could be seen, and among them was a dated article about one certain Frost family…

Mrs. Sweets Clue wiped away a tear. “Oh… my boy is growing up so fast!”

Mr. Hickory Clue nodded as well. “They never truly stay children for long, don’t they?”

No Clue rubbed the back of his head. “Um… Mom, Dad. Don’t you save the crying for, you know, the actual day of the event? Why are you having me try on this stuff now?”

“Because it doesn’t hurt to be prepared,” Mrs. Clue said through her tears. She held up her phone. “Besides, you look so dashing in that suit, dear! And I wanted to take the pictures as soon as I could!”

She darted side-to-side, her phone snapping and flashing with each step. Clue had to squint every time the flash went off; the redness on his face became a full-scale blush. Tempted as he was to wave his mom away, though, he could do little else but stand and try to save whatever bit of dignity he had left in him, for as long as that would take.

“Ooh! Do that little raised eyebrow that you always do!”

“Mom! Come on, isn’t it enough I’m already posing for you?”

“What if you threw your hair to the side a little? Or maybe if you got off of the fireplace and sat on the sofa? Yeah, do that; there’s better lighting over here anyway!”

No Clue begrudgingly walked over to the sofa and sat down. He tried to refuse to pose any further, but his mother was surprisingly strong. She managed to untangle his arms and place them right where she wanted them; then, she took some more pictures, oohing and ahhing with each new set.

I wonder if anyone else’s moms are like this? he wondered.

He looked to his dad, voice gone but eyes pleading. His dad still kept on laughing.

Eventually, though, Mrs. Clue had to take a break. “Aw, that stinks!” she pouted, holding up her phone with a frown. “My battery’s going to die. Dear, do you mind if I use yours?”

No Clue’s eyes widened, and he fiercely shook his head.

“I think we should allow our son a moment of respite, Sweets,” responded Hickory. He then winked. “We’ll pester him tomorrow.”

Sweets huffed. “Oh, all right, fine. Have it your way. I’ll just upload these now.”

Just as she turned away, No Clue summoned his strength and leapt off of the couch. In a mad dash, he went for his room, ignoring his mom’s startled cries and his father’s roaring laughter. He quickly slammed the door and locked it.

It wasn’t that he minded his parents’ antics. It was just that he was so nervous. He could not keep still for a moment, knowing that the night—the night—was just around the corner. He could barely get through the day without daydreaming about Friday. And from he had heard from other students, that was the case for a majority of them. In some classes, it had gotten so distracting that several teachers had banned just talking about it until further notice.

He took in a deep breath, then turned to face the vertical mirror that hung on his side of the door, taking a quick look at himself. Admittedly, it wasn’t too fancy of a suit. Striped with thin, faint, white lines, it wasn’t really a suit at all, but more of a vest—a brown one at that. He checked the cuffs and the cream sleeves, then ran his hands down the front, attempting to remove any creases. No doubt that his mother would throw a fit if he, tomorrow, showed up at the school with a wrinkled outfit.

He ran a shaking hand through his hair. While the posing itself had done nothing, being propped up against the couch had made it filled with static and dust; he’d need to wash it out soon. He made a mental note to, after school tomorrow, immediately take a shower and try not to mess up his hair. He considered stylizing it. But he didn’t know any particular styles, and Rainbow—awesome as she was to him—didn’t seem like someone who’d care about that.

He wondered what Rainbow would wear, but then he pushed the thought away; it seemed more invasive and a bit creepy to think about that.

“Ooh, this one! He’s so cute in this one!” he heard his mother exclaim.

“Dear, I think the flash was getting to him,” his father replied.

“Aw! I forgot he had such a cute, little nose! And such pinchable cheeks!”

No Clue blushed and tried to block out their voices. If his mother was this bad the day before, he shuddered to think what she’d be like tomorrow.

Tomorrow.

Somehow, he always kept returning to that word, that frame of time. How had it caught up so fast? It seemed like a week ago that he’d even remotely heard of the Fall Hallows’ Eve Event. Now, all of a sudden, the school had truly been turned on its head (at least that’s what he saw). He hadn’t heard much of what the event would actually consist of, beyond the usual. He wasn’t even sure where the event would be held, though presumably it’d be the gym since it was the largest room in the school.

But that was still tomorrow. Hours away, even. Yet it felt like it was just on the next page in the metaphorical book of No Clue’s life, and he was so tempted to both slam the book shut or turn to that page. He couldn’t decide what was worse: the anxiety before the event itself, or the event itself and all of its prospects.

And what prospects were there. His parents had been ecstatic when he’d told them he’d actually gotten invited to the dance, and his father had teased about how this was the first step before romance truly blossomed. Remembering this, No Clue blushed and physically turned away. That was another issue that kept propping up: how would he go about confessing his feelings? Should he? Wouldn’t the dance itself be confession enough?

He considered asking Blueblood or Brutos for advice. His hand reached into his pocket and pulled out his phone, and after a few taps, he arrived at their contact information. But he hesitated. As much as he wanted his friends’ help, he wondered if they even could. Maybe it was best if just winged it? After all, he’d probably get so nervous that he’d mess up any plan he’d come up with and absolutely flub even dancing with Rainbow—

He slapped himself in the head, hard, gasping while wincing in pain. That was another thing he’d forgotten: what dance they’d do? It was more likely that the school would play some of that electric-techno stuff, perhaps a bit of disco. He could probably dance to that; it took little effort to swing your arms to the beat. But on the off chance they began to play something slow…

No Clue wasn’t an expert in everything. Sure, he’d tried to learn a few moves from online videos, but there hadn’t been enough time to practice to perfection. One step, two step, three step, four; that was all he knew. What came next was a mystery.

So, if the school did play slow music and had all the couples (could he even call himself and Rainbow a couple?) come out onto the dance floor, there was a huge chance he’d make an absolute mess of himself.

With Rainbow watching.

And Blueblood and Brutos probably laughing all the while.

Yep; tomorrow wasn’t looking at all promising.

No Clue sighed, and tried to take several deep breaths. He needed to calm himself down; he could not afford to psyche himself out the day before he ought to be psyched out.

Tomorrow. Tomorrow he would worry. For now—

He didn’t complete that thought, as he suddenly felt his phone vibrate. He tapped on the Messages icon.

“Nervous?”

No Clue rolled his eyes. Perhaps his friend had some insanely good sense of intuition; or he really was psychic. He texted back: “Of course I’m nervous! Tomorrow’s the biggest night of our lives!”

“Come now, my friend. There are far bigger nights to come. High school graduation, college graduation, your 21st birthday… perhaps wedding nights, if you get lucky.”

“Dude, this is STILL a pretty big deal.”

“Of course it is.”

Blueblood paused there. In the meantime No Clue went over to his bed and sat down. He could still hear his parents in the living room, going over the pictures. Any second now, he expected to get an embarrassing text of praise from an older relative.

His friend returned sometime later: “How nervous ARE you, though?”

He sighed. “Very nervous. I’m afraid I’ll mess up.”

“Don’t be. You’ll probably mess up either way.”

“Gee. How encouraging.”

“It IS encouraging! What’s the point of worrying over messing up? Everyone messes up. You should focus on doing something right, not what you might possibly do wrong.”

“Are you sure your Public Speaking class is working out at all for you? Maybe you should take some lessons on how to attempt to sound inspirational.”

“Ha, ha, very funny.” Blueblood sent an emoji with rolling eyes. “In all seriousness, though, I’m sure it’ll be fine. You’re a good person, No Clue. She’ll appreciate you for who you are, I think; Rainbow isn’t, aside from personal exceptions, one to judge you for clumsiness.”

Clue managed to smile. “Maybe you’re right, Blueblood.”

“Or she, like myself, will laugh her ass off if you slip in some punch.”

“Hey, as long as you don’t spill it.”

“Ooh, low blow. But a good one; I’ll give you that.”

“What about you? Ready for the dance?”

“Of course I am. I’ve had my dress pressed and tailored. Blossomforth will have the time of her life!”

“Don’t let her dad hear that.”

“Come now, Clue, you know I’d never suggest something that vulgar.”

“Well, I hope you two do have a fun time. Maybe you’ll hook up in the end?”

“Who knows? Anything can happen at this point. And hey, if we’re lucky, you’ll be seeing some magic tonight.”

Before Clue could respond with a confused text, Blueblood sent a follow-up: “And I mean that literally. As in: actual magic. Not whatever the hell you were thinking. For a goody-two shoes, you sure have your mind in the gutter a lot, don’t you?”

“Hey! I go to a public school! Of course my mind would be somewhat in the gutter!”

Clue paused, then texted: “Wait… actual magic? Like that stuff from that Battle of the Bands?”

“Obviously. But don’t worry; if Sunset’s word is anything (which, by the way, is a lot of things, even I can attest to that), it’ll be pretty… well, pretty, but also benign. Nothing harmful, hopefully.”

“Hopefully?!”

“Yes, hopefully. Though, do try not to stare too long. We don’t want to create too much of a scene for anyone, right?”

“Er… right. If you say so…”

“I can sense your skepticism. Prepare to be amazed.”

No Clue’s mind drifted to Rainbow Dash, and tomorrow. He texted back: “Well, if all goes well, I WILL be amazed—in more ways than just one.”

“That’s the spirit!”

There was a ding, and No Clue received an image of a guy with two hands in thumbs-up position. He grimaced. Blueblood had an odd sense of picture humor.

There was another bit of vibration. “Hey, this is going to sound sudden, but you remember my cousin, right?”

Clue smiled. “Of course! How could I forget Aurora Veil?”

“She’ll be going to the Event as well. And I was wondering if, you know…”

“If I could help keep an eye on her?”

“Yes, in a way. Could you?”

“Sure thing, Blue. What are friends for?”

“Awesome, thanks. See you tomorrow, Clue.”

Once he saw that the conversation was over, Clue pocketed his phone. He raised his arms over his head, stretching, careful not to pull apart his outfit.

He noticed, suddenly, how quiet it had gotten in the house.

Then he heard footsteps approach; they stopped at his door. Someone knocked. “No Clue?”

“Yeah, Mom?”

“Can I come in?”

“Sure. It’s open.”

The doorknob turned and the door swung slowly, allowing Mrs. Clue to enter. She didn’t have her phone on her. Behind the rimmed-glasses, she looked a bit hesitant to move any further.

Clue raised an eyebrow. “What’s up, Mom?”

“You know your father and I were just teasing around, right?”

“Of course I do. It’s just… I don’t want to get nervous before I should get nervous.”

She nodded, then walked over to Clue’s bed and sat down beside him. “You’re a junior in high school, dear. That’s a big year for you; you know that. You have to focus on your grades, colleges, letters of recommendation… but so far you’ve been handling all of it pretty well.” She offered a smile. “By all accounts and purposes, you’re handling yourself quite responsibly.”

“Aw, Mom,” Clue replied, rubbing the back of his head, “I’m just trying to be smart, that’s all.”

She looked straight at him. “But this dance… do you know how important it is?”

“Well, it’s pretty important, but not really in the grand scheme of things.”

“Really? Do you think so?”

“Well, Mom, to be fair, it is just a dance.”

“I suppose it is just a dance in a way.” She sighed. “But it’s more than that, I think. It’s a symbol. A sign.”

“A sign? Really?”

“Yes, Nostradamus. It’s a sign that you’re growing up. That you’re maturing. Facing a new day, and with every moment your thread between us and yourself grows more and more thin. You’re becoming your own person.”

No Clue paused. “Mom. It’s not like I’m going to forget either you or Dad or what you guys taught me all my life.”

She giggled. “Of course you won’t, dear. You’re far too smart for that.” She herself paused. “I guess what I’m saying is, when we take those pictures, it isn’t to embarrass you. We want to have a memory of before you grew up. Before you became your own man. Do you understand?”

He smiled. “Yeah. I think I do, Mom. We should enjoy the moment while it lasts, right?”

She nodded, giving her own smile. “Yes, that’s right, Nostradamus.” She looked at the clock. “Goodness! It’s getting close to dinner time, and I’ve still got to prepare the food.” She got up. “I’d better go do that, then. And you’d better change out of your vest, dear.”

“Really? Why?”

“Because I don’t want to risk having you spill your food on it.”

“Alright, Mom, I’ll do that.”

Mrs. Clue left the room, leaving No Clue by himself.

He gazed at the door; then at the window; then, taking his phone out, at the screen. It was blank. Blueblood hadn’t texted back. He looked back at the window. Then he got up and stared through it. Outside, the sky was a great splash of blue, and the grass was a vibrant green, and the sun was a brilliant shade of yellow and orange. The world looked so pure, so full, so ready.

Tomorrow was another day.

It was dark. The evening had come and gone, and night had settled in. But it was a clear dark, the kind with a clear sky and shining stars and a gleaming moon that, were it not for the oncoming black sky, would surely have substituted for daylight. It was dark, but not too dark.

There was a certain beauty in that observation. Dark and light had come together in a unique harmony. With the day’s passing came night’s entrance yet, as evidenced by the thin line of creamy pink that stretched from one side of the horizon to another, it had not truly given in. Night was no different, pushing and prodding along that edge, blending its color with day’s to make an inky sky. Clouds might as well have acted as barriers between the two. They circled all around, slightly transparent but still echoing a faint whiteness, receding from the moon and stars and the waning sun. Eyes drew upward; they focused on the bright objects above. Brightness had no true distinction at this time. Whether it came from the moon, or the stars, or the sun, you could not argue that it was not bright; you could not argue that that definition of brightness was not the same everywhere.

The two lived in that harmony, sharing each other’s space. One would peek out, as would the other. This was a truth of the world; night would follow day, day would follow night. Each defined the sky in their own way. It was useless to consider them enemies if they both worked for that same goal.

Artifex Frost was not much of an observer of the heavens, but even he could not deny that truth. The world had a rich layer above it; who would he be if he did not try and appreciate it?

Without his jacket (surprisingly, he had opted to take it off for tonight), the world felt cool upon his skin as the gentle call of the wind whispered in his ear and touched his arms. The ache in his wrists began to recede, and the pain in his left leg began to subside. He breathed in and out, feeling that cool, autumn air rush through him like a rollercoaster of nature. It exhilarated him, and that was odd, for he had not felt exhilarated in seemingly a long time.

It was the same wind, the same voice, that had sang to him on his first day; and it sang of the same thing: glorious hymns, and new beginnings. Faint as it was, he tried to listen to it as best he could. He tried to open his mind and let the song surround and overcome him. He tried to feel that truth in his heart. He tried to fill this hole in his soul.

But he still felt empty. Welcomed, yes, but still empty. He was missing something, and whether it was that truth or something else, he did not know.

Bzzt.

He reached into his pocket and took out his phone. He had to squint because the screen was so bright, but after a few seconds it auto-adjusted to a dimmer light. Sunset had texted him. He opened the message menu and read it.

“You okay?”

Lightly tapping the screen, he replied, “Yeah.”

“You still going to go to the Event?”

“Yes.”

He looked up once the message had sent. The wind had begun to die down.

“All right,” she replied a few moments later. “Soul and I—as well as everyone else—will be there, so if you need anything, let us know.”

“Thank you, Sunset.”

“No problem, Artifex. What are friends for?”

He bid her goodnight with another text, and she replied in kind, before the messages ceased. He momentarily pocked the phone, and looked at the sky. It was late. He would need to sleep soon.

His phone vibrated again and, to his surprise, as he took it out, he saw that it was Adagio. When had I given her my number? Oh, right—at lunch.

It was a short message. He had thought she would send more, much more, given her personality and insatiable need to tease. But she had mellowed out as of late. Perhaps that was because of him, or because she had matured.

“See you tomorrow.”

His lips twitched. He didn’t answer.

Artifex pocketed his phone once again. He took a slow, deep breath. The wind whispered a little more. It carried with it the scent of snowdrops. It was a familiar and comforting scent, reminding him of better days.

With any luck, it would spur him on to better tomorrows.

He turned and went back inside. The wind lingered for a moment, before doing a loop and racing upwards towards the endless sky.