Xaria sat by the reflection pool, skimming the surface of the water with her fingers. Ripples covered the surface, scattering behind her fingers as they moved.

“Show me Ernest.”

The water gurgled and showed a man in an office cubicle. He was completely concentrated on the article he was writing. His shaggy brown hair and overgrown stubble was a testament to the sleepless night he had the night before, trying to finish this stupid article. Xaria could hear “Mars, the Bringer of War” blasting through his headphones. He was typing very loudly, partly because that’s how he typed, and partly because he couldn’t hear over his music.

Amelia came up to his cubicle, a camera hanging around her neck like a tourist.

“Hey Ernest,” she said. He didn’t respond. He was too deep in music-filled concentration to hear her.

Amelia tried again.

“Ernest!”

Still no response.

Amelia went and stood next to him, planting her feet very forcefully next to his chair, hoping the sound or vibrations would cause him to look up.

Nada.

“Hey!” she shouted.

He didn’t even flinch.

She rolled her eyes. She should’ve just done this to begin with.

She delicately tapped her index finger on his shoulder, and he flinched in surprise, immediately yanking his earbuds out of his ears.

“Amelia, don’t sneak up on me like that!” he exclaimed in shock. He looked up at her, eyes wide and heart pounding. He tended to startle very easily which is why Amelia tried to not tap his shoulder until necessary.

“Ernest, I did not sneak up on you. You just have your music blasting too loud to hear me,” she said, exasperation seeping into her tone. Ernest shook his head and sluggishly dragged his palms down his face.

“I know, I know. You’re right. I’ve just been trying to focus on writing this article. I think I’m putting way too much effort into it, especially with the deadline in two hours, but I really care about the topic so I want it to be as polished as possible.”

Amelia leaned over his shoulder to see what he was writing. It was an article about how puppy mills treated dogs terribly and how if you were considering buying a dog during the holidays, you should go to your local shelter. It was filled with photos of adoptable dogs from shelters nearby.

“‘Adopt, don’t shop,’” she murmured, eyes catching on the headline, “I think it turned out really well Ernest. I don’t know how you could improve it anymore, but knowing you, you’ll find a way,” she stated matter-of-factly. Ernest turned a light shade of pink, always embarrassed and honored by her compliments.

“Heh, thanks. I know you’d tell me if it was crap, so it means alot coming from you,” he confessed.

“Of course! And…” she paused, turning her head to face him, “...those photos look stunning! I mean, such a master of lighting and artistry! I think those are probably the best pictures I’ve ever seen in my life! Do tell me, who took them?” she inquired mockingly.

“Um...I can’t quite remember her name. Started with an A…” he trailed off, pretending to try to pull the name out of the depths of his consciousness, “Azalea, Adelaide, Aerosol, Apple…” his face lit up with mock recognition, “Oh! I got it, her name’s Amelia!”

Amelia snickered.

“Do tell me about this…Amelia,” she said, stating her own name like it was a unfamiliar and strange concept, “What’s she like?”

“Well,” Ernest started, stroking his chin thoughtfully, “she’s smart, funny, and ambitious. I’ve never met anyone as driven as she is. Her photography skills are amazing, completely unparalleled by anyone else who works here, even if she doesn’t think so. I think,” he continued, turning towards her, “I think...um…” he trailed off, no hope of regaining his derailed train of thought. He’d suddenly realized how close they were. She was a hair’s breadth away, so close that if he tilted his head upwards their lips would meet. Ernest could smell the pomegranate shampoo she used from where he was sitting, and he couldn’t help but think for the millionth time that it was intoxicating. Her eyes were wide, filled with either fear or infatuation, but in his dazed state he could not tell which it was.

Staring at this scene from the reflection pool, Xaria shouted, full of frustration,

“Kiss her you fool! Come on! She’s right there!” She shifted her focus to Amelia.

“Or you! Please Amelia, for the love of Erasmus, make a move already! This ‘will-they-won’t-they’ crap has been tearing me up for weeks now! You both are head-over-heels for one another, someone, please, make a move!”

As if Ernest could hear Xaria, he jolted and rolled his chair away quickly, trying to make it look casual as a blush started to creep up his cheeks.

“So,” he cleared his throat awkwardly, trying to hear over the rush of blood in his ears, “what did you need?” He asked.

“No!” Xaria cried out, smacking her fist into the pool in disappointment. The water splashed everywhere, soaking her sleeves, and splattering back in her face. She wiped it away with her dry sleeve, feeling defeated.

“Why?” she muttered sadly.

Normally, she’d be storming around the pool, gesticulating wildly while she screamed incoherently in her head but recently, it had been getting tiring to just feel angry. Her ferocity was gone, and she honestly didn’t miss it. It was much easier to just feel sad and tired. What was the point anyway? She couldn’t do anything but stare at people in the pool. No more matchmaking, no more blessing couples to have babies. No more meddling in human affairs without explicit permission from Erasmus, period. This was as close as she could get, and for a while, it had felt like enough, but it had begun to grow tiring of having no control or influence in anything. She just felt...useless.

Loud footsteps coming towards her jolted her out of her reverie. She quickly brushed her hand over the water and the image dissolved into nothing. The footsteps stopped, and Xaria looked up to see the youngest of her siblings, Delios. His wings were folded behind his back, a sign of amicability. She didn’t find him intimidating, even though he wore the armor of Erasmus's trusted guards, the Valencians.

“Father has requested your presence,” he announced, his voice gravelly from years of use.

She bowed

“So he shall receive it.”