Part 2
“Water, water, everywhere!” said Marin, feeling joyful, Splashing in the iron tub filled up with soapy suds. “It feels great to finally have soap to wash my hair with, And have a good sponge to scrape the dirt out of my nails.” “And your asshole,” Ardo said, and flashed a smile sharply, Then ducked fast to dodge the water Marin flung his way. “Thanks again for all of this,” said Terry up to Marter, Pausing then to scrub his face with a rough bar of soap. “Think nothing of it. Our town is visited so rarely, That you bring with you a glimpse of all the wild world. Sometimes I have wished to travel, go outside this village, But my family needs me, so I dare not go beyond.” “We have seen much of the world,” said Saera, softly speaking, “It can be quite ugly—but quite beautiful as well.” Marter turned her way at this; she blanched, and turned around then, Though she’d long grown calm at people seeing her nude form. “Here you go,” said Marter as the four of them were finished, Handing them soft towels as they rose up out of the tubs. “Oh, my, thank you,” Saera said, a flush upon her body, Pale skin dusted with a gentle coat of bloomy rose. “Yo, I’m hungry,” Ardo said, his own brown skin rubbed ruddy. “Have you anything to eat?” asked Terry, toweling off. “Yes we do,” said Marter, “but I think you should get clothes first. You were very nearly wearing rags upon your backs.” “New clothes do sound nice,” said Marin, drying off her wet hair, “And you’re all so colorful, I’d love to dress like you.” So they dried and dressed in their old clothes, just for the moment, And they followed Marter as he led them ‘cross the street. There was a great building with a roof of polished metal, Looking older, and yet more advanced than all the rest. Marter led the way inside; the Elementals followed, Seeing here and there a glimpse of high technology. They turned down one corner and they entered a big chamber, Where they saw “A multiprinter!” Marin said aloud. Sure enough they saw it there: a large gray cube that flickered, And it had an opening within its rightmost side. “Yes,” said Marter, “this is our most advanced technológy, And we use it to create our clothes, our tools, and more. Sadly, we don’t have a regular supply of power, So to use it we run on the treadmill, over there.” They glanced to the left, and saw a treadmill sitting, dusty, With numerous wires leading to the great gray cube. “Someone here will have to run on that, me or one of you, After we have inputted your measurements in turn.” Ardo leered and said, “Hey, Marin, why don’t you get on it? After all, your fat ass sure could use the exercise.” As he said this he reached out and spanked her on the bottom, Grinning to himself as she jumped forward with a yelp. Marin whirled upon him, navy hair fanned like a banner, And her eyes were suddenly agleam with bright blue light. Her eyes lit up neon blue and down her cheeks were running Streams of shining blue water, like gleaming neon tears. On a nearby table there was placed a glass of water, And within the room’s north wall a window had been set. Saera watched, and saw the water glass begin to vibrate, And the water in it started sloshing back and forth. Meanwhile outside the window she could see a puddle, And it, like the water glass, began to churn and pulse. “I’ll do it,” said Saera, stepping over to her best friend, Touching her upon her shoulder, gently and with care. “Ardo, please apologize,” said Saera, staring at him, Silver eyes set seriously, and with great concern. Ardo looked at her, then looked around and saw the water; Fear and shame soon kindled in his bright red ruby eyes. “Hey, I’m sorry,” Ardo said, “I’m sorry that I spanked you.” Marin sighed, and shook her head; her eyes lost their bright glow. “Fine,” she said with huffing breath, “it’s not a big deal, really.” “No, I mean it,” Ardo said. “I do apologize.” Marter had been standing there and watching this transpire; But he had not seen the bluish glow in Marin’s eyes, Since he had not been at the right angle; so he didn’t Understand why Marin getting angry had caused fear. “I can run,” he said at length. “It is no trouble, really.” “No, I’ll do it,” Saera said. “I gladly volunteer.” Saying this she hopped onto the treadmill, pale legs priming, As Marter went over to the printer, turned it on. Beeps and lights and chiming hums soon filled the room they stood in, And Marter said: “I’ll just make you basic shirts and pants, You two boys. And for the girls I’ll just make simple dresses, Something in the style of what we wear here in town. Something that will cover you and make you blend in with us. If you want more personal clothes, those can come in time.” “Are you ready?” Saera asked, and bounced upon her foot-balls. “Yes,” said Marter, “go ahead and start your running now.” Saera broke into a sprint, the treadmill started churning, And the printer crackled into sparking, thrumming life. Gleaming light came streaking up and down its cavern’d innards, And the smell of gentle burning filled the nearby space. Saera kept on running, did not mind the long exertion; She had always been an easy runner back in school. One by one new clothes came sliding from the multiprinter, Softly dropping downward from the printer’s metal guts. Shirts in pink and blue, white pants, a green dress, and a white one. “Done!” said Marter, and Saera stopped running, sweating some. She was panting in and out, her heart rate gently slowing, Feeling all the lovely breeze that swirled around her skin. “Oh, this dress is beautiful!” said Marin, sounding happy, Picking up the dress of soft white linen lying there. “I like this one,” Ardo said and reached out for the pink shirt. Terry chuckled softly and took up the blue shirt next. “That leaves the green dress for me,” said Saera, stepping forward, Picking up the softly woven fabric in her hands. “I think green would look good on you—oh, just a suggestion,” Marter said, and stumbled on his tongue, his words a mess. Saera breathed a gentle breath and felt her cheeks go rosy. Heat came bubbling through her, up from deep within her chest. Terry said, “Thank for the clothes,” and moved to change into them, Putting on the blue shirt, as Ardo put on the pink. And both boys changed into their white pants, while both the ladies Changed into their dresses: Marin’s white, and Saera’s green. “Look at you all, now,” said Marter, smiling with some mischief, “Now you look like you belong—except for all your hair. Terry, your brown hair is normal mostly, though I wonder Why it shimmers. But Ardo’s hair is a striking red. It is a bright, rich red, which I am not used to seeing. And that blue of Marin’s! I have never seen its like. It makes me think of the ocean, miles distant from us, Though I’ve never been to the seaside. I will, some day.” Then he turned to Saera. “I have also, really, never, Never seen a girl with hair the color of white snow. And your eyes are something, too! Such brilliant, shiny silver.” Saera blushed. “I’m sorry that I look so strange to you.” “Strange, yes,” Marter said. “But not unpleasant,” he continued. “I think you are beautiful—I really, truly do.” Saera felt a flush creep up her cheeks unbidden at this, And a breeze went wafting, fanning through the open room. “Oh, oh dear,” said Marter, as his golden hair was ruffled. “I suppose I left the door open. I’ll be right back.” He left them, and Marin turned to face her best friend Saera. “Oh, you LIKE him!” she exclaimed, with brilliant, shiny smile. “I shan’t, I can’t,” Saera said, feeling uncertain, nervous. But she found that she could not deny her old friend’s words. “I guess I do,” she admitted, glancing downward slowly. “Do not tell him, please? Please do not share my secret now.” “Lips are sealed,” said Ardo, shaking his head with a chuckle. “Just try not to blow him to the sky next time you blush.” “Be careful, too,” Terry said, and now he eyed her firmly. “Remember, at some point all of us will have to leave. Don’t get too attached to him—you’ll only have to leave him, And,” now Terry’s face grew kind, “I’d hate to see you hurt.” “I know,” Saera said, sighing, breathing, letting a breath out. “I shall be as careful as I can, as best I can.” Marter came back then. “There was no door open,” he told them. “I suppose it was a random breeze, got in somehow.” “Yes,” said Saera, with a smile, silver eyes aglimmer, “Just that, I suppose,” and she looked gently at him then. “Well, it is near evening now,” said Marter as they gathered. “I suppose you will be wanting dinner, so let’s go.” Soon they were back at the house of Marter and his fam’ly, Where his mother set out food that steamed and smelled so good. Saera’s stomach groaned; they had not eaten well in ages, So, though she had lovely manners, she ate hastily. Ardo was more crude—he ate with no care for decorum. Marin rolled her eyes and elbowed him between the ribs. “Thank you all so much, again,” said Terry, chewing slowly, Swallowing his food before he spoke a second time. “We probably cannot repay you for your friendly treatment.” “Oh, that’s fine,” said Daisy. “We are very glad to help. You are in such dire straits; I see that you have suffered, And to help those deep in need is what all men should do. Hospitality is one of mankind’s oldest virtues, And we practice it today, in our village at least.” So they ate, and so they talked, as evening proceeded, As the gentle dusk of Spring went settling on the land. All four Elementals were quite careful with their talking, Careful not to tell their hosts a thing they should not know. Nonetheless, as Saera looked, and glanced about the table, She saw Marter keenly staring at them, eyes so bright. So she sighed, and bit her bread, and was all the more careful, Careful not to show her hand, and not reveal a thing. Thus the food was ate, the plates were cleared; they washed the dishes, And the fire crackled merrily inside the hearth. Terry sat there, quiet-seeming, brooding in the shadows, While Marin was laughing with the children by the fire. Ardo turned, and saw that Saera quietly was leaving. “Going out?” he asked. “Yes, I just want some fresher air.” “As do I,” said Marter, rising, coming to the door there, Joining her, as she tried desperately to hide her blush. “We won’t be gone long, mama,” said Marter o’er his shoulder. “You have fun,” said Daisy, with a wave around her head. Walking out they basked in moonlight: lovely, silent, silver; It was full, and all around it stars gleamed merrily. “So,” said Marter, gazing up, his face outlined by starlight, “So, you’ve come from far away, and wandered a long time?” “Yes,” said Saera, heart now racing, breathing growing shallow, Filled with thoughts that swam and zoomed within her lovestruck mind. “I suppose it must have been a difficult thing,” he said, “Always on the run, and never knowing safety, calm. But at the same time I envy you a bit, a little. You have seen the world—a thing I’ve long wanted to do. I have spent my whole life living in this village, waiting, Waiting for some thing to happen, but it never does.” “W-Well,” Saera said; she stammered, silver eyes atwinkle, “Well, we’ve come here now, so something’s happened, at long last.” Marter smiled at her. “You are right,” he said, and chuckled. “I’m glad you are here—all four, but you the most of all.” “Why?” said Saera, gasping, heart within her chest ahammer. “Something about you, I like—I can’t really say why.” Marter smiled gently, and he turned back towards the house then. “I’m going inside. You can stay out here, if you like.” Saera felt the breeze blow cool upon her skin, and looked up. “I-I think I shall,” she said, and glanced off to the side. So he smiled at her, she at him, and then they parted, Marter opening the door and going back inside. Saera in the moonlight stood, and lingered there a while, Its pale silver gleam making her own self seem more pale, Casting lunar white upon her snow white hair and light skin, Making her a ghostly thing, a thing of vapor, mist. She breathed slowly, and as she was breathing, out and in now, All the air about her sighed; the wind whipped round her feet. “I think I shall have a fly,” she said, and the breeze quickened. Quickly she looked round, just to make sure she was alone. Then she sighed, and then she laughed, and now the wind blew faster, Swirling round her now, a gale, a maelstrom of her own. Raised by her own wind, Saera went soaring to the nighttime. With a final mighty gust she launched into the sky. Now the air was light and bright and breezy in the springtime, Now the sky was clear and sharp and lovely in the dark. Saera laughed, a sweet and lovely sound, as she was flying, Swirling, dancing in the sky beneath the bright full moon. Now she flew straight down, the cool air whipping at her body, Til she peeled away and flew low o’er the flowery fields. Rose petals were swept up by her wind and followed closely, Til she trailed a flow’ry boom within her billowed wake. She laughed at this, and she pulled up back into the night sky, Swirling round the petals she had caught up in her trail. Roses and rose petals cycled round her in a column, Swirling in a spin that smelled so sweet, and felt so good. Finally the wind stopped and the petals drifted downward. As one petal fell she caught it, held it in her hands. Gazing at the petal she thought on what had transpired. “Marter,” she said gently, and she brought it to her face. Smelling it, she smiled; it was so sweet, and so lovely. With its scent upon her, she was happy, and at peace.
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