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She knew the end was coming. They all knew. But knowing and being ready for it were two completely different things. Some regarded the Gommage as an easy, gentle death. And though it might have been, in the end, it was still death all the same. Sciel held her father’s hand, neither of them saying a word as they gazed out into the setting sun while an imaginary clock ticked down the minutes they had left. Her mother had gone the year before and in some ways it was easier to let her go, knowing her father would still be there with her for just a little while longer.
The artificial peace that swept through the harbor was nauseating; quiet chatter of loved ones saying their last goodbyes, muted cries of another wave of children to be orphaned and yet another failed expedition. With one last deep breath of acceptance, Sciel’s father turned to her, forcing a smile despite the tears streaming down his tanned cheeks. “Sciel—” he started but the words snagged on their way out. Her teeth sunk into her lip in an attempt to stay calm, to keep her from howling about how unfair it all was. Her father swallowed and tried again.
“Sciel, my darling, I love you more than words could ever say,” his hand moved to her cheek, thumb swiping away the tear that fell, “be good. Live your life as well as you can, live it to the fullest. And when you miss me and your mother more than you think your heart can bear, the stars will be there to listen. We’ll be there for you, even if you can’t see us.”
All Sciel could do was nod as another wave of hot tears burned her skin. Her chest tightened and twisted with the confusing emotions that warred inside of her — fear, anger, sadness, and worst of all, the numbness that had already begun to set in.
And with that, silence fell.
The Paintress, their cruel Goddess, stood before her monolith out in the distance and the entire harbor held its collective breath. Like every year before, the number disappeared and came back one less. The Gommage had begun. In an instant, the unfortunate people of Lumiére began to fade, leaving nothing behind but piles of red and white petals. Sciel looked into her father’s eyes for the last time, trying as best she could to memorize the shape of his face, the lines around lips that had spent the too-short life he was given smiling, loving and his eyes that were a mirror of her own.
There were no screams, no blood or violence after the Gommage finished. Only a heavy melancholy knowing that grief could not last and those who remained were expected to pick back up tomorrow like nothing had changed, like there wasn’t suddenly a gaping hole where a lover, a mother, a father had just been.
A breeze caught the petals drifting down where a person once stood and swirled around Sciel. In a way, maybe she could have seen it as her parents reaching out one last time but all she could see now was that she was alone. Sciel pushed her way through the lingering crowd, she had to get away. She swatted away the petals that landed on her, shook them out of her hair. It was too much. Another reminder that the end was inescapable and would come for her just as easily.
Her hideaway in the crooked tower waited for her. A quiet place to shut out all the world for a while, to pretend that everything was just as it should be; a delicate and comforting lie to wrap herself up in. Tears blurred her vision as she climbed up into the forgotten room, hidden away from the floral carnage left on the docks of the harbor. However, much to her surprise, the room was not empty as she’d expected. Another figure sat curled with knees to chest on the pile of blankets and rugs Sciel had lugged up on previous occasions.
“O-oh, sorry, I didn’t think—” she started but the sound of sniffles stopped her. Slowly, she approached, kneeling down and tenderly placing a hand on the girl’s shoulder. She turned to face Sciel, her dark eyes rimmed in redness from the tears she’d shed.
The girl hastily wiped them away, “Sorry, I didn’t think anyone would come up here.”
Sciel shook her head and lowered herself down next to the girl and assumed the same position, pulling her knees to her chest. They both sat in silence for while longer, neither knowing what to say to the other. What could be said? More condolences? More empty placating words for the sake of pleasantries? She didn’t want anymore of that.
Finally, when the silence was too heavy to bear, Sciel spoke. “I lost my father today. My mother went the year before.” Silence continued, stretching like a chasm between them, but eventually the girl spoke.
“My parents were on the expedition.” She didn’t need to say more, Sciel immediately understood. Every year, children and what was left of the families of expeditioners — if there were any — stood at the docks, waiting for the ship to return with the triumphant men and women who’d braved the continent to stop the cycle of death that plagued Lumiére.
“I’m Sciel.”
“Lune,” the girl replied. Sciel offered a smile in lieu of the words she knew didn’t matter anyway and took the chance to take Lune’s hand in hers. She didn’t resist, didn’t pull away, but held it in return with a gentle squeeze.
The sun had fully set, leaving a dark canopy of stars visible through the tiny window in front of them, “Sometimes I come up here to get away from everything, a little secret hideaway. I didn’t know anyone else knew about this room. But I’m glad you found it on a day it’s needed the most.”
“I saw a light up here a while ago and always wondered what it was. Do you come up here often?” Lune asked.
“Often enough,” Sciel replied with a shrug, still keeping Lune’s hand in hers, “When life gets to be too much. When the truths of our existence become too heavy and everything feels pointless, yeah.”
“I thought,” Lune started but shook her head, leaving the words dangling. Sciel didn’t push. They didn’t know each other well enough and she had no right to pry. But at the very least, she could offer comfort. Companionship. Quiet tears fell down Lune’s cheeks as Sciel leaned against her, putting her head on the other girl’s shoulder. To her surprise, Lune leaned back against her, accepting the gesture easily.
“You don’t have to say anything. But if you want to, I’m here,” Sciel whispered. Lune nodded but didn’t speak through her tears.
After a while, a meaningless stretch of time that could have been hours or minutes, Sciel laid back on the pile of blankets and gently coaxed Lune down with her. The girl followed along easily, seeming to take the comfort that was being offered without question. They laid there together, gazing through the tiny window at the pinprick stars. Normally, Sciel would have found the cosmos so vast and infinite, but today, it all seemed so tiny and insignificant.
Lune rolled to her side and placed her head on Sciel’s chest, her hand over her heartbeat. “I just want to feel someone alive for a bit…if that’s ok.” She had stopped crying, presumably hitting the wall of numbness that came after the shock and sadness wore off. Sciel slid her hand over Lune’s, holding it against her chest in wordless answer. They stayed that way for a long time, neither one saying anything or making sounds beyond soft breathing.
Eventually, Lune had fallen asleep against her chest and Sciel took that moment to glance down at her companion. She was beautiful, her perfect alabaster skin dotted with tiny constellations of freckles one could only see being this close. Her closed eyes were lined with thick, dark lashes and a smudge of dark kohl across her lids. Her hair splayed over her cheek, the void-dark strands shining a sort of blue in the ripple of moonlight that spilled through the window. Sciel brushed the strands back as gently as she could, careful not to wake her. But Lune’s eyes fluttered open anyway despite her efforts.
Immediately, Sciel found herself falling into the soft, welcoming darkness of Lune’s eyes. Her hand slid down the other girl’s cheek, cradling her jaw with an unsure hand. Inch by inch, they moved closer, noses nearly touching. Sciel’s pulse ramped up, hammering in her chest beneath Lune’s hand. She closed her eyes and held still just long enough for Lune to stop her, to stand up and move away in a quick change of heart but when she didn’t move, Sciel did.
The kiss began as something barely there; a whisper. Sciel pushed her hand up into Lune’s coarse but ever so soft tresses, running her fingers through the silken strands of midnight. Lune responded with gentle insistence, rolling onto her back and taking Sciel with her. They were strangers to each other and yet, something about this kiss, this nearness felt so right. A horrible fate brought them together and now, they chose to make the best of it, offering comfort with both body and soul.
Sciel moved slowly, doing her best not to break the contact between them as she lifted her leg over Lune’s hips, straddling her where she lay beneath her. Both of her hands cradled her jaw as her tongue slid out in a questioning swipe across the seam of Lune’s lips. She opened hesitantly and her hands found Sciel’s hips, holding her like an anchor. She didn’t know how they’d ended up like this but even a moment of reprieve from all the thoughts and emotions that weighed down on her from the day seemed to vanish for a moment. All that mattered was the soft skin under her palms and the very much alive heartbeat that thrummed through her and Lune simultaneously.
The room around them seemed to fade, leaving the pair floating, drifting on this single moment. Despite all she’d lost, Sciel felt whole. Even if whatever this was between them was fleeting, a pocket of time between the now and the what next, Sciel wanted to hold onto it with an iron grip.
Eventually, they parted, both panting and gasping for breath. The unspoken question of ‘to what end?’ hung in the air between them. Sciel looked down at her companion, a hopeful smile tugging at the corners of her mouth, but she left the answer up to Lune. A rosy blush bloomed over her cheeks as she reached up and stroked a finger over Sciel’s cheek before moving it over her lips.
“The sun will be up soon,” Lune said in a way that felt like a door shutting. Sciel understood it for what it was and moved away from Lune, leaning back on her heels.
“Yeah…” Sciel rubbed the back of her neck in a sheepish gesture of uncertainty, “Sorry if I—” Lune cut her off with a shake of her head and a smile.
“Don’t be sorry. This was…nice. Thank you.”
Sciel swallowed thickly, nodding in agreement, “It was, yeah.”
Lune pushed herself up from the ground and dusted off her skirt but before she could turn to leave, Sciel reached out, taking her hand once more and pressed a soft good-bye kiss to her knuckles. Maybe fate would be kind to both of them and they could find comfort in one another again. Or maybe they would simply pass by like two ships in the night with a quiet understanding as they caught each other’s gaze.
Whatever the outcome may have been, Sciel would hold onto this moment, tucked deep inside her heart and never forget the time they shared there in her secret room, far beyond the rest of the world.