"If ever something was lost...Zuri Ayim was the one who could recover it."
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Twelve years ago, a meteorite fell among the seven city-states of Kiro, and birthed a new legend. They are calle...
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They took as little as possible. A change of clothes, water, Sorin's violin. Zuri carried a bouquet of white lilies, clutching them close to her chest. They smelled sweet, but earthy, almost like pine.
Once they were off the train, it was a lot of walking, but Zuri didn't mind. She found herself content at Sorin's side, listening to his stories about his time here in Sinje, the happier ones, the ones she hadn't heard about before. She stole sideways glances at him as they made the trek through downtown and towards the city's edge, memorizing his profile, marveling at the flick of his eyelashes as he blinked. He was so beautiful—she thought it every time she looked at him. Sometimes she wondered how it was that anyone could ever cast him out, but she supposed it was human nature to fear the most beautiful things.
They left downtown. The crowds thinned while the spaces between the buildings grew, a high, yellowish-green hill sitting at the horizon behind it all. Not too long ago, the old paper mill had rested there, but now there was nothing, nothing but a pile of rubble.
Sorin stopped at the base of the hill. Zuri touched his wrist; his pulse was rocketing. "Rin," she said, softly. "It's okay, you know. We don't have to do this."
He dragged his tongue over his chapped lips, then looked at her gravely. "If we don't, who else will?"
By the time they reached the hilltop, sweat had darkened their clothes in unflattering places and Zuri's legs were wobbling beneath her. Sorin sucked in a hard breath, as if he were fighting for it, fighting to stay awake, but a moment later his face was still again. He dropped to his knees, unzipping his bag and pulling out two small stones.
Carved on one stone was, Liesel Kircher, Let Kiro Bless Her. The other stone read much the same, except the name was Wendell Schmitt.
Sorin laid the stones upright, side by side. Zuri bit down on her lip, then nodded at Sorin, scattering the white lilies across them both.
They stood up. Stepped back.
It was quiet. Too quiet. All Zuri could hear was the wind.
"You know," Sorin said, but when Zuri looked at him, his eyes were trained straight ahead, "Liesel told me something once. Well, not really—Liesel hardly ever told me something just once; she'd just find a million different ways to say the same damn thing."
"What did she say?"
He paused, glancing away, towards the forest to the east of where they stood. "She told me to stop living my life as if someone was always trying to snatch it from me," he said. "And I thought for the longest time that she was the one who didn't get it. If she'd just lived through what I lived through, she'd understand why I acted the way I did. But it was me. I was the stupid one. I was always the stupid one."
He stopped again, glancing back at the stones, an almost angry twitch to his brow as he did.
"I just wish I could tell her that I get it now," he said. "I wish I could show her that she was right."
"She knows, Sorin," said Zuri, leaning her head against his shoulder. "She sees it."
"And I wish she could meet you. You remind me of her sometimes. She knew how to get on every one of my nerves, and yet I always wanted to be around her. A lot like someone else I know," Sorin said, brushing Zuri's chin with his thumb. His mouth twitched as if he wanted to smile, but he didn't quite make it. "She...she would have loved you, you know that?"
The heart was far too fragile. It shouldn't have been that only a few words like that could splinter Zuri's so easily.
Zuri wiped an unexpected tear from her eye, and leaned off of Sorin. "You should play her something," she said, gesturing at the violin case resting at Sorin's feet. "She would like that, I think."
A flicker of uncertainty passed Sorin's face, but then he nodded, bending to unlatch the case and lift the violin to his shoulder. "But—" He stopped, staring at Zuri, his golden eyes pensive and serious. "What should I play?"
"I don't know," Zuri answered, settling herself in the grass and pulling her knees to her chest. "Surprise her."
Sorin gave Zuri a slow, purposeful blink, and then he smiled.
