prized guest,” he interrupted. “I know who you are.” He laughed an easy laugh that made me envious.
I wished I could smile that easily. I put on a fake smile and laughed a fake laugh, which struck all the wrong chords, but he seemed not to notice, or if he did, he too put on a fake smile.
“Isn’t it exciting?” he babbled away, as we walked. “We’re finally taking a stand against the White ... Well, not that we haven’t before, but this time we
have a fighting chance!” Nalin chattered on, leaving me hanging on his first sentences.
“Anyways, here are your quarters,” he said, as he stepped into a hut.
The floor, walls, and ceiling were all made of Red wood, probably from a tree in the Ever Forest. The furnishings were sparse, yet they conveyed the same sense of warmth that the Red wood had
channeled. There was a simple wooden bed in the center of the quaint room with a richly decorated Red quilt. Next to it was a modest bedside writing table with a wooden chair and a window view.
Hung on the back of the chair was a change of clothes. They were mismatched shades and textures of Red as Nalin and the others of the cause wore, and I made a mental note to put them on as soon as
I could, in order to blend in with our hosts.
When I thanked Nalin, saying that the accommodations were much more than were necessary, his face lit up.
“You should see the other rooms, especially the commander’s. Her rooms are so big!” Nalin said enthusiastically, his Red hair getting into his eyes. “Oh, I almost forgot!
I was supposed to tell you that your traveling companion’s room is right next to yours.”
Knowing he meant the boy, I nodded.
Then his voice took on a more formal note. “Breakfast is at first light and you are expected to dine in the commander’s quarters. It’s the big round building. You can’t
miss it.” With that last remark, Nalin exited and left me to survey the room.
The room was filled with light and pulsed with a sense of Red. As I made my way over to the writing desk, I looked up to see a cutout in the ceiling. It was just big enough for the shape of the
blood Red sun to fit in it. Its crimson rays filled every corner of the room and thrummed with life.
I sat down in front of the old-fashioned desk and ran my fingers through its small openings and over its hollow drawers. My blind fingers paused on every dent and scratch that the table hid. I
found comfort in its irregularities.
I glanced outside and watched the people go past. The window was just a cutout in the wall with no glass in it, but the people paid no heed to me. The window reminded me of a picture frame; its
subjects the Trigons and the humans mingling together.
The people were all dressed in the same Red as the Trigon soldiers. They were unified by that color, yet they were all different, as were their shades of Red. They mingled in pockets, while
walking with quick strides. Group after group passed me until I realized that the Trigons and humans never socialized unless it was absolutely necessary. They only conversed with their own kind and
pretended to be blind to the other.
A small group of Trigon teenagers, laughed and shoved each other playfully. They, unlike their elders, seemed largely oblivious to the horror around them. A male and female human wandered
arm-in-arm, the woman’s face creased in concern. I wondered what had caused that line of worry to mar her otherwise attractive features.
I spent much of the afternoon watching their lives go by my window. It was dark before I knew it and the warm glow in my room was quickly replaced by lurking shades.
I crept into bed, pulling the Red quilt with me. The bright color of the quilt was washed out by the darkness. Now, the face of the White moon appeared through the cutout in the ceiling directly
above me. It seemed to peer into the room, as if it were looking for something. But when it didn’t find what it wanted, it promptly left, leaving a hole of
I wished I could smile that easily. I put on a fake smile and laughed a fake laugh, which struck all the wrong chords, but he seemed not to notice, or if he did, he too put on a fake smile.
“Isn’t it exciting?” he babbled away, as we walked. “We’re finally taking a stand against the White ... Well, not that we haven’t before, but this time we
have a fighting chance!” Nalin chattered on, leaving me hanging on his first sentences.
“Anyways, here are your quarters,” he said, as he stepped into a hut.
The floor, walls, and ceiling were all made of Red wood, probably from a tree in the Ever Forest. The furnishings were sparse, yet they conveyed the same sense of warmth that the Red wood had
channeled. There was a simple wooden bed in the center of the quaint room with a richly decorated Red quilt. Next to it was a modest bedside writing table with a wooden chair and a window view.
Hung on the back of the chair was a change of clothes. They were mismatched shades and textures of Red as Nalin and the others of the cause wore, and I made a mental note to put them on as soon as
I could, in order to blend in with our hosts.
When I thanked Nalin, saying that the accommodations were much more than were necessary, his face lit up.
“You should see the other rooms, especially the commander’s. Her rooms are so big!” Nalin said enthusiastically, his Red hair getting into his eyes. “Oh, I almost forgot!
I was supposed to tell you that your traveling companion’s room is right next to yours.”
Knowing he meant the boy, I nodded.
Then his voice took on a more formal note. “Breakfast is at first light and you are expected to dine in the commander’s quarters. It’s the big round building. You can’t
miss it.” With that last remark, Nalin exited and left me to survey the room.
The room was filled with light and pulsed with a sense of Red. As I made my way over to the writing desk, I looked up to see a cutout in the ceiling. It was just big enough for the shape of the
blood Red sun to fit in it. Its crimson rays filled every corner of the room and thrummed with life.
I sat down in front of the old-fashioned desk and ran my fingers through its small openings and over its hollow drawers. My blind fingers paused on every dent and scratch that the table hid. I
found comfort in its irregularities.
I glanced outside and watched the people go past. The window was just a cutout in the wall with no glass in it, but the people paid no heed to me. The window reminded me of a picture frame; its
subjects the Trigons and the humans mingling together.
The people were all dressed in the same Red as the Trigon soldiers. They were unified by that color, yet they were all different, as were their shades of Red. They mingled in pockets, while
walking with quick strides. Group after group passed me until I realized that the Trigons and humans never socialized unless it was absolutely necessary. They only conversed with their own kind and
pretended to be blind to the other.
A small group of Trigon teenagers, laughed and shoved each other playfully. They, unlike their elders, seemed largely oblivious to the horror around them. A male and female human wandered
arm-in-arm, the woman’s face creased in concern. I wondered what had caused that line of worry to mar her otherwise attractive features.
I spent much of the afternoon watching their lives go by my window. It was dark before I knew it and the warm glow in my room was quickly replaced by lurking shades.
I crept into bed, pulling the Red quilt with me. The bright color of the quilt was washed out by the darkness. Now, the face of the White moon appeared through the cutout in the ceiling directly
above me. It seemed to peer into the room, as if it were looking for something. But when it didn’t find what it wanted, it promptly left, leaving a hole of
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