In the eaves of a small perfumery west of Ahsara perched a little blue bird. It fluttered its wings and peered curiously through the window,  fixing its gaze upon the unmoving figure below.

Swathed warmly upon the bed  slumbered Asael. Locks of flowing black pasted against pellucid skin, stuttering breath fell and arose in the wounded chest. At times he would rise, glancing about dazedly with empty eyes, only to fall back into a deep sopor. 

And in this way a fortnight passed.

When at last Asael’s eyes opened he saw before him a pale amber sky. Specks of golden dust poured from the open windows. And trickles of the fading sun seeped onto the patterned quilt.The sound of fluttering wings and  sighs of bated breath, of clamouring unfamiliar tongue and sweeps of string gently lifted the veil of silence in his ears and then, his eyes fell upon a  face. 

 A woman sat to his right, clad in lavish crimsons of gossamer and silk. In her adorned hands she held a wet white cloth. And beside her was set a stone brazier of fire opal, kindling the room in warm golden light. 

But Asael shrunk in fear. As he tried to move, control slipped disobediently from his hold. His body shivered, jolting painfully in a cough.

The woman stood up, easing him back with a hand before bringing a cup of warm water to his lips. 

A chill crawled up Lilia’s spine. A pair of glassy viridian eyes peered at her through the quilt. Many a merfolk she had met and seen during her days at the forest temples. But for the first time in her life, she felt as if she had a caught glimpse of some ethereal being unmarred by human sight. She looked at the sky in a silent prayer and clenched her dress, weaving the fear coursing through her body into its scarlet pleats.

Then she placed a few pillows behind his back and covered his body with the fallen quilt.  Yet Asael’s head fell  limply. 

His body kept alive by the phoenix’s tear for a fortnight was emaciated. His wrapped wrists and feet fell weakly by his sides. He could not place the pain tearing through his body or the confusion that married his mind.

The gentle touch of the evening wind was cold and scraping against his skin.  As he pressed  his fingers together, like the strewn petals of a cardinal flower, scarlet lines blossomed along the white wound dressing, slowly he brought the quilt over his shoulders. 

Asael’s eyes flickered across the room once more. It’s shades of gold and crimson, of vines and flowers were unlike the clear crystalline silvers of Araya. Fear clawed coldly at his face, where was he?

Lilia watched him for a moment and broke the silence. “ You are in Ahsara” she smiled gently. 

His gaze drew towards the door behind her, cracking open to darkness with the eerie call of howling wind. A pair of pallid yellow eyes blinked from within . Lilia turned slowly and upon seeing this creature,  sighed, opening the door wide.

Sarel fell through the doorway, collapsing amidst a pile of pink and green dress robes, like a fairy upon a flower. 

Asael stared. 

 Sarel stared back at him. 

How pretty.  Who was he? 

“ This is Sarel” Lilia rubbed her brows and pointed “ He is harmless” 

They spoke softly amongst each other. Asael’s familiarity with the language of Ahsara was sparse and without practice, and thus he did not understand much of their conversation. Besides that, with his aching head his attention and awareness was fleeting.

 In a moment Sarel disappeared, closing the door behind him and Lilia turned back, pushing her seat to Asael’s side. She placed a warm palm against his forehead and watched the blue warmth return to his face. 

“ You must be hungry” She affectionately caressed his hair. , “ I asked Sarel to bring some mushroom soup. Would you like that?”

Mushroom soup? Asael nodded slowly. He liked it, he often had it back home in Araya. His face fell.

“ Do you want to know how you got here?’ Lilia asked, her eyes lingering attentively on his sullen face. 

“ I. . . do” Asael whispered.

“ This is my perfumery . . . in west Ahsara, near the capital city wall” Lilia began, “ And on the night we found you . . .”  

Asael withdrew his  gaze onto his palms and listened. He looked up at Lilia as he was plunged into that cold dark forest once more. The rain pattered incessantly against him, muting the soft narration,  and a searing warmth clawed at his core, his breath withdrew sharply and drops of tears fell onto his curled hands. 

He slowly lifted his hands, bringing it closer to the golden hue of his chest. He could not feel his wisp. The beating of his own heart was akin to an intrusion.

Lilia paused, “ It is the tear of a phoenix keeping you alive. Do not worry” 

Then he  was covered once more with the thick quilt.


“ A “ Asael heaved, “ healer?”


Lilia waved her and smiled apologetically, “ I grew up in a mountain temple and my master was a healer, but I’m just a perfumer. . . just, a perfumer”


Asael smiled and bowed his head thankfully. He had many questions, how was a mere perfumer able to acquire a phoenix? And how was it possible to replace ones core with phoenix’s tear?  But the more his brow furrowed the heavier his mind weighed.

Lilia hesitated as she continued to speak. So he had been led towards Ahsara, who else would have done so if it was not Raglar?  It seems that he had placed his trust  upon those who wished for his demise, and now . . . his wisp lay in the hands of the enemy. 

It was futile. The blue moon wisp could not bring peace upon Drugar. What they sought had been gifted to them during the winter games. Yet by now, his wisp would have already withered.  Regardless. . . he wished to  retrieve it, and attempt to go back home to Araya. His hand grazed the wounded core. Pain zinged up his whole being and he lurched forwards. He did not know if strength remained within him to do so.

Lilia mentioned it had been a fortnight since their arrival. By now the imperial  family must have received news of his death or disappearance. Were they searching for him? Asael looked outside, the evening was deepening, the amber sky fading to violet. If there was anyone capable of reaching him would it not be Serein?

A gust of cold wind brushed his skin, the petals of a nearby higan tree left their blossoms and blew in gently through the window. From a distance a voice became clearer, the merfolk’s lament seeped through the northern wind towards the perfumery.  Just then a small ball of blue caught his eyes, jumping and fluttering frantically.

Asael’s eyes widened and gentle laughter broke through. He weakly gathered his hands and placed them upon the window. 

It seems that they had already found him. 

“ I am fine” He spoke softly to the bird and caressed it’s head. 

Lilia’s mouth fell agape. She had heard many tales of merfolk communicating with animals but had never seen such a distinct display of affection from a creature towards one before. Her heart softened. It seems that there was no need to be wary of him after all.

Soon Sarel returned from the kitchens carrying in a tray of fragrant mushroom soup and freshly baked milk buns. Lilia left for a moment and brought forth a large  opal brazier from the balcony, still warm from staying out in the sun.  And as the night set in, it bathed the room in a warm glow, keeping out the shadows.

Sarel plopped next to him and eagerly leaned in, “ Should I help you eat?”


“ It’s fine” Asael smiled. He brought up his hands, only now seeing how terribly they had been bruised and wounded. Each of his fingers and his palms had been wrapped in bandages which were beginning to blot pink with seeping blood. 

A sharp pain tore through his wrist as he tried to hold the spoon. Under the watchful eyes of Lilia and Sarel, he tried again and again. Each time failing to grasp the utensils properly. So the task of feeding him fell on the eager Sarel. Patiently he spooned the mushrooms to Asael’s mouth and tore off small pieces of buns soaking them in the soup. This way he ate for an hour and felt quite full afterwards. 

But Lilia was insistent on at least one more bowl.

“ You have not had anything to eat for almost two weeks” She reasoned, sending Sarel away to the kitchens once more. By the time he had finished yet another bowl of soup and buns it was quite dark outside.

“ It is almost time to change the dressings”  Lilia looked at the opal clock on her wrist. Then glanced at his wounds closely. “ It must be uncomfortable”


Asael looked at his arms, feeling a cold wetness soaking through the layers of clothes and quilt. 

“ A little bit” He whispered softly.

The scent of blood and the residue of fever felt uncomfortable on his skin. The serene quietude of the small room upstairs and the bright light of its lamps enveloped him warmly, it was suffocating. Asael really wanted to go out, he looked pleadingly at Lilia. 

Lilia pondered for a moment. Most of the wounds had been closed, with only the shoulders and midriff still remaining unhealed. The wounds on the palms and fingers could be managed easily. So it would not hurt for him to take a bath for the first time in two weeks.

The bathhouse was accessed through a separate courtyard over the garden. Lilia was skeptical of letting him walk alone so Sarel held his hand as he stood up and Lilia cleared the doorway, but surprising both of them Asael found it quite easy to walk on his own. Wisps of light, flowing akin to water anchored his body to the ground and smoothly glided over the stairs. It had been awhile since he had been in his siren form, but his body seemed to have readily adapted to its weakened constitution. 

A separate room in the bathhouse had been prepared for him. Though he did not wish to inconvenience Lilia or Sarel, it was quite difficult to bathe alone while avoiding the wounds. 

After bathing, Lilia sat him down and unwrapped the soaked bandages. First his shoulders and midriff was tended to. Many of the dressings had been stained with a strange black liquid. Asael thought that perhaps it was medicine, but, 

“ It seems that you were poisoned with wintersbane” Lilia said pointedly. Yet Asael’s expression did not waver. He had heard of the plant before but knew nothing else of it. When he returns to Araya he must ask Astara about it.

Suddenly he remembered Serein’s eyes that had visited him. Where had the little bird gone? After Sarel’s arrival he had not seen it again.  Though they could not speak it’s presence had brought forth great comfort to him. Even if it was not the guardian’s eyes, just for a moment, just until he was strong enough to stand on his own feet, he wished to pretend that it was.His heart dropped and amidst it form a hollow well of loneliness. He wished it could have stayed just a little longer. 

Even if Serein now knew where he dwelled, if they wished to avoid a needless war, the journey from Ahsara to Araya was one that he alone must take. Thousands of lives in exchange for his own was not worth it. He hoped his family knew of it.

Once his wounds were dressed, Sarel sat behind him, combing and braiding his hair. Due to their nature, a siren’s hair fell freely and without resistance. It was quite impossible to place and confine it as one pleased. But seeing Sarel’s determination he did not object. 

He sat meekly letting the other do as he pleased. For partially he was void of energy, just walking seemed to have drained him of vitality and with each breath he heaved weakly. After awhile of trying Sarel gave up, opting to place a small white higan flower into his hair. Just as they were finishing, Lilia returned.


Asael had very hesitantly let her know he wished to remain outside a little more, and after thoroughly advising him not to overextend the meagre energy he had,  she went to retrieve a warm robe. 

The clothing of Ahsara was quite similar to those of Araya. There was a variety of under gowns, socks and over robes laid out before them. Lilia carefully slid the socks over his wounded feet and placed two warm gloves over his hands. Then they wrapped the rose over robes around his body and fastened it by his chest. And Asael felt for a moment felt that warmth too carried a certain comfort.

“ You look like a snow bunny!” Sarel smiled cupping his face.

Asael’s brow twitched, “But my hair is black”  Wouldn’t it be more fitting if he had maintained his nimyi form?

“ It doesn’t matter!” Sarel laughed happily, swaying Asael’s face back and forth.

Behind them Lilia chuckled, “He has never actually seen a snow rabbit” 

Sarel’s expression soured. Going on a colourful tangent of how he wished to be a traveller and then he shall bring about a snow bunny for them to see. 

Lilia waved a hand, “ Now go and take a walk before midnight. And do not overdo it. If you feel fatigued, retire to  the rooms early. You shall take as many walks as you wish to after you recover”