CHATPER NINE - CHASSITY'S JUDGMENT
Heaven, mid November
“What is it, Jacob?” Hyatt said, hovering in front of a candle on the dinning room table, trying to get warm from his message-gathering excursion into the chilly duskiness.
“Yes, open it,” pestered the hawk, jumping up and down on Jacob’s shoulder.
“I will, Jagger. But I’m not sure I’m ready yet.” He flipped the letter over and over in his hands, waiting for the right moment to open it. He stared at the envelope, recognizing the light feathery handwriting as Shinar’s. A humming sensation washed over every inch of his body as he remembered the joyful times they shared at the hotel in Paris. How happy they had been joining in intimate hours and going for leisurely strolls in the moonlight, among many other nocturnal excursions.
The day Shinar said she had to part from Jacob’s side was so far the worst day in either of their lives. But why did she have to leave me, both his heart and soul cried out in unison. I need her so badly my insides are clouded without her love and rotting a little more each day.
His eyes welled up with tears when the fairy’s face formulated before him; the awareness of where he was disintegrated until an anxious squawk shattered his daydream.
“Who is it from?” Jagger wasn’t so interested as to what the letter said, but more about the sender. He felt it prudent, without the bat’s knowledge, to keep a record of all those he received messages from, and compare them to whom Hyatt came into contact with. This quest for pride and gratitude no doubt was to see who came into contact with the most celebrated people.
“Jagger, please, hush up,” snapped Chassity. She placed a delicate hand upon Jacob’s arm. “Are you all right?”
He sniffled and slumped back in his chair, allowing the faint grin of reminiscence transform his face. “Yes. I’m fine. Everything is fine,” he sighed happily, opening the envelope where Shinar had left her seal in a small heap of melted red wax. He pulled out the letter and began reading:
My dearest Jacob,
I have the most wonderful news to tell you but I must confess it is with a saddened heart that I write this letter, for I wish so much to be there in your company when you hear what I have to say. Perhaps someday I will see you again, if I can ever get out of this strict and confining fairy world without someone noticing I have gone missing and creating a portal to suck me back here. Oh, if only I could stay wrapped in your cool, protective arms for eternity, how happy we both would be.
But now I must reveal the new fortune we both have a share in. You and I have a son and I have named him Rystique. My darling, you should see how innocent he looks in such a tiny frame. He is only a few days old but he already seems in tune to this world and all the outlandish things it possesses. His eyes are a dark energetic blue and on his head is a nest of tousled black hair; his skin is lily-white, the same as yours.
My main wonder for him at the present is his future and what kind of uncultivated powers he will obtain and how they will affect him and others’ views of him. I shall do my best, my sweet prince, to raise our young boy and teach him what he must know of your world and mine. I have tried to tell you the news of my pregnancy for months, but my attempts had failed, all of my letters having been confiscated by guards and others in my community that have been ordered to monitor me and any suspicious things I do. How wretched this place is that my abilities can’t even penetrate its cemented conformity, that I may be able to relax and not feel so paranoid. This is the only fairy kingdom that I know of that severely punishes those who stray from it.
