“Look, another shooting star,” Y said pointing in the western sky. If there were anything sinister about the night the two laying on the soft blue clovers of Trikala did not notice.
“Moon One seems to be winking at us tonight,” X said. She couldn’t suppress the giggles rising in her throat. She snuggled closer feeling his chest rise and fall beneath his robe. She played with the gold rope that held it in place at his waist. Taking her hand, he moved it back to his chest covering it with his.
“He’s winking because he’s never seen a more beautiful Trikalian young lady.” With that he turned her perfectly formed face to his and kissed her softly, then more urgently until both were breathless with anticipation. Then without a word, he stopped and stood.
She stared at his outreached hand. “What are you doing?” The question went unanswered as she took his hand and stood. Then in one quick leap, she jumped and wrapped her arms around his neck covering him with kisses, wrapping her legs around him. She could feel his entire body pulsating. Gently removing her arms from his neck, he let her feet fall to the ground.
Eyes still locked with his, she took one step back. Then without speaking, she loosened the string that held her silver robe in place. It fell to the ground revealing everything Y had only dreamed about. He gasped audibly.
At 35U, Y was ready, more than ready, for a family. His parents warned him over and over not to wait too long to take a mate. How could he tell them he knew who she should be and had for 10 years. But she was now 15D and soon would be 14 and then 13 and 12, 11, 10. Already she was too young. His head had always known the dangers. Now his heart knew them as well.
Trikalan law demanded that men and women reveal their true ages. D’s were the ones who were more vulnerable at not making rational decisions. The beginning of irrationality was said to be 17D. Already they had pushed time beyond its legal limits. He blew his breath out with an exasperation snort.
“What?” she said. She probed his face for a hint of his feelings. What she found there was a longing she well knew. She smiled and cocked her head to one side.
He let his eyes touch her warm alabaster skin. He memorized how her toes curled under her feet for warmth, where her ankles blended into the calves of her legs. How her knees turned in slightly and curved out to her thighs and hips. He noted how perfectly these curved into her tiny waist and then physically inhaled as he his eyes to move upward allowing himself to stay there only a second while he moved still further to her smooth neck and then her tiny chin, full lips, sloping nose and large dark eyes. Her coal black hair was cut short and stood spiked with silver tips. Her ears, dainty and small were decked with several rows of silver stars.
He picked up the robe and draped it around her shoulders. Then he pulled her to him and held her tightly as if she would break. There was more, so much more he wanted. But he knew it was not to be—not tonight or any other night until many, many years in the future, if ever. And he cried. Not small quiet tears but loud, wailing sobs. And she cried. Her time of understanding had not fully drawn to a close but soon would in its completeness and she would be free to not remember. In a way he envied that about her. They were on opposite paths of a world stuck in an unbreakable cycle. She was going one way while he was going a different and physically there was no stopping. His, a sentence to many more years of remembering. Hers, a release to the process of rediscovery.
“Apria 29, 565,” he said. “I will meet you here.”
“If you remember.”
“Oh it is not me who will forget. I will never forget you.”
“Nor I you.”
“You cannot help but forget. But those who grow up, have only remembering. And you, my silver princess, are worth remembering.”
“As are you.” Big tears fell soundlessly to the Trikalan soil.
“And how is it that someone as beautiful as you never took a mate?”
“I did take a mate. However, not all Trikalan men are as kind as you.”
“Where is he now?”
“On the far side, I hope. That, at least, is where I remember leaving him many years ago.”
“What was he called?”
“He was A.”
“And he is your age?”
“In case I should ever meet him.”
“And what would you do?”
“I would make sure he never hurt you or any other Trikalian woman.”
“But he is A.”
“And he is malevolent.”
“There is nothing to cure that problem. There is only forgetting. But I shall not forget you.”
“And how do you know that? How will you recognize me? You know I will not look as I do now.”
“I will recognize your love.” Grasping his hand she placed it over her breast. “Feel that? The universe will remind me of why I exist.”
For a long moment, his eyes held hers, then turning he ran into the Trikalan night. He heard her screams as she collapsed to the ground unable to move, grief consuming her. But he dared not turn around lest he violate all he knew was sacred to him, to her, to Trikala.
Teresa Parker © 2011