Bonus Scene #2: Sarya Returns
(Adan POV) (From Chapter 3)
The wedding rite finally ended, and the choir filed out of the Shrine into the robing room. Another expensive wedding for Msaka Dolna’s elite, Adan brooded as he changed out of the formal white choir robe into the gray everyday robe of the Skola. Another duet with Vidette Fabara – who would certainly spend the rest of the evening reminding him that many people, especially her, were looking forward to Adan’s own wedding, which of course would be to her. Another Arrangement, this one by Vidette, filled with musical flaws that Sarya never would have permitted in one of her Arrangements. But Sarya was gone, she had left in the early morning hours months ago without telling anyone, and in all that time, despite all the efforts and influence Adan had brought to bear, he hadn’t had a single word about where she was or what she was doing or if she was even still alive.
He sighed as he pulled on his gray robe over his shirt and trousers. Vidette was busy chattering with her friends; if he was lucky, maybe he could avoid her the rest of the evening and not succumb to her predatory and not-inconsiderable charms. Sex with her was spectacular, the one good argument he could think of in favor of marrying her; the problem was, sex with her required being in her company. Which he just wasn’t much in the mood for any more.
Since Sarya left, come to think of it.
Attempting to evade Vidette, he joined the first rush of choir members exiting the robing room into the hallway that led from the Shrine to the Masters’ offices and the rest of the Skola complex. The hallway was too narrow for the herd of singers tramping through it and Adan found himself pushed to the back of the initial throng.
And then, up ahead – He blinked, trying to make sure he wasn’t seeing things. A head of golden hair like ripe wheat in sunshine, barely peeking through the mass of people who were mostly much taller than her, worn peasants’ clothing, and that battered old lute slung across her back.
A rush of emotion – relief, joy, disbelief, and feelings he couldn’t name – flooded through him. “Sarya!” he called out. “Sarya dyr-Rusac!”
She didn’t look back; instead, she started pushing her way ahead faster through the crowd. He couldn’t blame her for not wanting to talk to him, not after the things he’d said to her the last time they saw each other, but by the Creator, he wasn’t going to let her get away this time without telling her how sorry he was for saying those things. He pushed through the crowd, shoving people aside without bothering to apologize or even take note of their protests, until he was within reach of her.
He caught her by the arm and spun her around to face him. She stared at him with a wide-eyed look of panic in her face. “Where have you been?” he demanded. “You left without a word to me or anyone –”
“I didn’t realize I needed your permission to leave.” She tried to pull away from him, but he tightened his grip on her arm. He wasn’t going to let her get away – not ever again, if he could help it.
“I didn’t know where you were or what had become of you,” he said. “I didn’t even know if you were alive or dead!”
Around them, people were stopping to stare. Sarya tried to turn away from Adan, but he moved with her, forcing her to keep facing him. “I just need to speak to the Council of Masters about something,” she said, “and then I’ll be off again.”
“Don’t leave.” Words and emotions weighed so heavily in his chest he could barely speak.
“Why not? You said yourself I don’t belong –”
“Damn it, Sarya!” Everything inside him, everything he felt for her and all his fears over the last months, all his hopeless longings of the last ten years, flooded through him, washing away intent and caution and everything else that had always held him back. He pulled her to him and crushed his mouth to hers in the kiss he had always long to give her and never dared.
Her mouth was warm and sweet, like sunshine and honey, as he had known it would be. Her song, the music that naturally formed around her, that only he could hear, sang through his mind. He expected her to push him away; instead, her surprised stiffness gave way and she sagged against him. He caught her behind her back, supporting her securely against his chest, and she melted into the kiss.
Adan had dreamed of this for years, and it was even better than his dreams. In the rush of pleasure and love for her and joy and relief that she was here, he was only barely aware of the laughter and whistles around them and someone shouting, “You show her who’s in charge, Muari!”
His lungs reminded him he needed to breathe. Reluctantly, he broke the kiss, leaving them both gasping. Her face was flushed, but no slap followed the kiss, nor even any angry words. Adan tried to decide what to say or if he should just kiss her again –
“Sarya dyr-Rusac!” Master Telciu said.
Adan barely suppressed a growl at the interruption as Sarya’s face flamed bright red. She spun around. “Master Telciu!”
“What a surprise to see you here!” the Master said.
“I need...” she stammered. Adan couldn’t help feeling a little pleased at having left her so flustered with that kiss. She took a deep breath and tried again. “I need to speak to the Masters. I’ve been thinking about what went wrong with the chant I added to the Arascas-Naita wedding ritual, and I believe it might be related to the other strange things that have been happening. I want to ask permission to use the Neumatorium to...”
The reference to the tragedy that had led to her disappearing from the Skola stirred Adan’s guilt for his own role in the disaster and the harsh words he had spoken to her. He moved closer to her, his chest brushing her back, as though he could protect her from any further consequences. As though to assure her that this time, she didn’t have to face the crisis alone. She stepped aside, putting a little distance between them, but he moved with her; he wasn’t going to let her push him away this time. “...Do some research,” she finished gamely.
“Ah,” Master Telciu said. “Any answers you might find would be most welcome. The Arascas-Naita situation has turned into quite a headache for the Skola, and, of course, the Service as a whole is under considerable pressure regarding these other difficulties with the harvest and storms and so on. Come with me to the Hierarch’s office and we’ll ask to meet with him right away. Adan Muari, would you please find the rest of the Masters and ask them meet us in the Council room as soon as possible?”
“Of course.” He didn’t want to leave Sarya, but Master Telciu could be relied on to treat her with decency, and anything he could do to help resolve the crisis of the wedding gone wrong would help her as well. As the onlooking crowd dispersed, buzzing with gossip, Adan left to track down the other Masters, his heart feeling lighter than it had in months.
Sarya was alive and well, and she was back, and had let him kiss her. No matter the clouds in the sky, for him, the sun had come out again.
(Adan POV) (From Chapter 3)
The wedding rite finally ended, and the choir filed out of the Shrine into the robing room. Another expensive wedding for Msaka Dolna’s elite, Adan brooded as he changed out of the formal white choir robe into the gray everyday robe of the Skola. Another duet with Vidette Fabara – who would certainly spend the rest of the evening reminding him that many people, especially her, were looking forward to Adan’s own wedding, which of course would be to her. Another Arrangement, this one by Vidette, filled with musical flaws that Sarya never would have permitted in one of her Arrangements. But Sarya was gone, she had left in the early morning hours months ago without telling anyone, and in all that time, despite all the efforts and influence Adan had brought to bear, he hadn’t had a single word about where she was or what she was doing or if she was even still alive.
He sighed as he pulled on his gray robe over his shirt and trousers. Vidette was busy chattering with her friends; if he was lucky, maybe he could avoid her the rest of the evening and not succumb to her predatory and not-inconsiderable charms. Sex with her was spectacular, the one good argument he could think of in favor of marrying her; the problem was, sex with her required being in her company. Which he just wasn’t much in the mood for any more.
Since Sarya left, come to think of it.
Attempting to evade Vidette, he joined the first rush of choir members exiting the robing room into the hallway that led from the Shrine to the Masters’ offices and the rest of the Skola complex. The hallway was too narrow for the herd of singers tramping through it and Adan found himself pushed to the back of the initial throng.
And then, up ahead – He blinked, trying to make sure he wasn’t seeing things. A head of golden hair like ripe wheat in sunshine, barely peeking through the mass of people who were mostly much taller than her, worn peasants’ clothing, and that battered old lute slung across her back.
A rush of emotion – relief, joy, disbelief, and feelings he couldn’t name – flooded through him. “Sarya!” he called out. “Sarya dyr-Rusac!”
She didn’t look back; instead, she started pushing her way ahead faster through the crowd. He couldn’t blame her for not wanting to talk to him, not after the things he’d said to her the last time they saw each other, but by the Creator, he wasn’t going to let her get away this time without telling her how sorry he was for saying those things. He pushed through the crowd, shoving people aside without bothering to apologize or even take note of their protests, until he was within reach of her.
He caught her by the arm and spun her around to face him. She stared at him with a wide-eyed look of panic in her face. “Where have you been?” he demanded. “You left without a word to me or anyone –”
“I didn’t realize I needed your permission to leave.” She tried to pull away from him, but he tightened his grip on her arm. He wasn’t going to let her get away – not ever again, if he could help it.
“I didn’t know where you were or what had become of you,” he said. “I didn’t even know if you were alive or dead!”
Around them, people were stopping to stare. Sarya tried to turn away from Adan, but he moved with her, forcing her to keep facing him. “I just need to speak to the Council of Masters about something,” she said, “and then I’ll be off again.”
“Don’t leave.” Words and emotions weighed so heavily in his chest he could barely speak.
“Why not? You said yourself I don’t belong –”
“Damn it, Sarya!” Everything inside him, everything he felt for her and all his fears over the last months, all his hopeless longings of the last ten years, flooded through him, washing away intent and caution and everything else that had always held him back. He pulled her to him and crushed his mouth to hers in the kiss he had always long to give her and never dared.
Her mouth was warm and sweet, like sunshine and honey, as he had known it would be. Her song, the music that naturally formed around her, that only he could hear, sang through his mind. He expected her to push him away; instead, her surprised stiffness gave way and she sagged against him. He caught her behind her back, supporting her securely against his chest, and she melted into the kiss.
Adan had dreamed of this for years, and it was even better than his dreams. In the rush of pleasure and love for her and joy and relief that she was here, he was only barely aware of the laughter and whistles around them and someone shouting, “You show her who’s in charge, Muari!”
His lungs reminded him he needed to breathe. Reluctantly, he broke the kiss, leaving them both gasping. Her face was flushed, but no slap followed the kiss, nor even any angry words. Adan tried to decide what to say or if he should just kiss her again –
“Sarya dyr-Rusac!” Master Telciu said.
Adan barely suppressed a growl at the interruption as Sarya’s face flamed bright red. She spun around. “Master Telciu!”
“What a surprise to see you here!” the Master said.
“I need...” she stammered. Adan couldn’t help feeling a little pleased at having left her so flustered with that kiss. She took a deep breath and tried again. “I need to speak to the Masters. I’ve been thinking about what went wrong with the chant I added to the Arascas-Naita wedding ritual, and I believe it might be related to the other strange things that have been happening. I want to ask permission to use the Neumatorium to...”
The reference to the tragedy that had led to her disappearing from the Skola stirred Adan’s guilt for his own role in the disaster and the harsh words he had spoken to her. He moved closer to her, his chest brushing her back, as though he could protect her from any further consequences. As though to assure her that this time, she didn’t have to face the crisis alone. She stepped aside, putting a little distance between them, but he moved with her; he wasn’t going to let her push him away this time. “...Do some research,” she finished gamely.
“Ah,” Master Telciu said. “Any answers you might find would be most welcome. The Arascas-Naita situation has turned into quite a headache for the Skola, and, of course, the Service as a whole is under considerable pressure regarding these other difficulties with the harvest and storms and so on. Come with me to the Hierarch’s office and we’ll ask to meet with him right away. Adan Muari, would you please find the rest of the Masters and ask them meet us in the Council room as soon as possible?”
“Of course.” He didn’t want to leave Sarya, but Master Telciu could be relied on to treat her with decency, and anything he could do to help resolve the crisis of the wedding gone wrong would help her as well. As the onlooking crowd dispersed, buzzing with gossip, Adan left to track down the other Masters, his heart feeling lighter than it had in months.
Sarya was alive and well, and she was back, and had let him kiss her. No matter the clouds in the sky, for him, the sun had come out again.
