To Make it Known

       When Clementine dreamed, her mind seemed to leave her body like a ghost dissipating from its former self. She found new worlds written in the ways of simplicity, and every time she woke from such dreams, she wished she hadn’t.

            This afternoon was no different. She’d fallen under the spell of the pretty purple sky beyond the long window next to her bed. The warm air had swooped her away from the novel she’d been reading, one just as fairytale filled as her dreams. 

             The last thing her sleepy eyes had rested on were frits playing above the grassy field by the eastern dorm building, little wings allowing the creatures to dart like the wind as they blew sparks at each other. Now, Clementine dreamed herself tiny enough to ride on the back of one, tiny enough to be taken somewhere she wouldn’t be needed.

            “Just for a while,” she murmured, unaware of the tentative smile blooming on her face.

            Bright green leaves cut into light blue skies that suddenly surrounded her. She looked around, at first searching for some familiarity in this new dreamscape, but there were no frits to be found.

            Moments later, they didn’t matter. A little cottage absorbed all her attention like it never intended to let go. It was tucked perfectly into the woods, a crystalline river winding its way around the cobblestone and ducking under a matching bridge leading to the arched front door. 

            Before she could take a step, distant, familiar voices and hands shaking her shoulders clawed their way into Clementine’s perfect world. She awoke with a gasp.

            “Clem!” Diablo’s big eyes held the stolen skies of Clementine’s dreamscape in them. “Wake up, you frizzy-haired slumberer. You didn’t hear a word I said, did you?”

            “Slumberer isn’t a word. Are you sure you’re doing well in language lecture?” Scout’s steady yet playful voice and some following quip of Diablo’s allowed Clementine a moment to grieve the loss of her dream. The ache in her chest stayed with her even as she turned her focus to Diablo.

            “Of course, I didn’t,” she grumbled, sitting up and brushing her hands over her hair. Her novel started sliding down and she caught it before she could lose her page. “I was asleep, you minmi.”

            Diablo made a face as though Clementine had never used the rather annoying creature in reference to her. “Someone’s grumpy. Anyways! As I was saying to Scout, Kahi’s having a gathering tonight and he invited the three of us. It starts at sundown, so get busy getting ready!”

            Clementine couldn’t help the dismay in her smile. “You think I’m going?” She asked, eyebrows raised. Annoyance bubbled in her chest. This was what Diablo had crashed her dream for?

            “Don’t you want a relaxing night to accompany the end of a long day of training? You’ve been working hard, Clem, and your time here could be over at any moment. I don’t want our years together to end without some form of celebrating with you.”

            “I don’t need a celebration.” Clementine listened to the soft fluttering of her novel’s pages as she fingered through it absent-mindedly. Her annoyance died down quickly. Diablo always had the best intentions at heart, and the passion in her voice almost convinced Clementine to go. As always, her dreams held her back. 

            “Then what do you want?” Clementine flinched at the sudden, loud desperation in Diablo’s voice.

            With her emotions always came fire. Veins under her skin turned into the faintest of oranges and flames started to cackle at the ends of her hair. 

            The last thing Clementine wanted to do was hurt Diablo during one of her outbursts. After setting her novel down, she stood and kept her hands at her sides, trying not to show how her faint blue fingertips were getting darker. Only as a last resort would she use the water in her veins to calm her roommate.

            “Diablo,” Scout said, commanding attention in the way she did naturally, but Diablo’s narrowed eyes were fixated on Clementine. She was too far gone.

            “We’ve been friends – no, roommates – for the past two years, and all I ever do is try to spend time with you – key word, try. I’ll sit here and read books with you in suffocating silence just to try and connect with you. On our good days, we’ll talk, but it’s always just me fumbling for words while you think up some short response to sweetly silence me. All I’ve ever wanted to do is be friends with you, but I’ve come to realize that you won’t fight for me!”

            Clementine was stunned silent. Steamy tears trailed their way down Diablo’s burning red cheeks. Scout stepped back as the fire tangled in the strands of Diablo’s hair grew, and when Clementine met Scout’s eyes, even she, the all-knowing student, didn’t seem to have an answer to this outburst.

            A careless, angry huff of frustration from Diablo sent a small fireball flying at Clementine. She was quick enough to send a slice of water in between the fireball and where it would have scorched her cheek, but surprise still flung her backwards as though she’d been struck. 

            “Even now, you have nothing to say to me!” Diablo all but screamed. She was a child, Clementine had to remind herself, a few years younger than her whose town had been a casualty in war. In that moment, that was all Clementine could see on her face, in the crinkled skin at the corner of her eyes and the scars lashing across the side of her neck.

            Most of what she knew by heart was rage, and she was starting to see Clementine as an enemy.

            “Outside, now!” Scout demanded, grabbing Diablo’s arm. She knew full-well the consequences of doing so. While Clementine could protect herself with a sheen of water, Scout’s earth origins would burn.

            Even so, she showed no pain on her face as she pulled Diablo away. Scout was strong. Her town, too, had been a part of the war, though she’d been a great advocate against it. Clementine knew Scout felt she hadn’t done enough.

            Where was Clementine’s powerful character? Why hadn’t she been able to speak to Diablo in the face of her hurt turned to rage? Most important of all, how had she not seen that this was the path Diablo had been building behind each of their interactions over their two years together?

            At some point, likely when she’d stumbled backwards, she’d sank to the ground and leaned her head against the side of her mattress. For a while, she looked around her now-empty room after Scout’s and Diablo’s quick exit, wondering how earth, fire, and water could possibly get along, wondering how she’d made it this far.

            Her town, Isphem, had stayed out of the war that tore the north apart. It rested across the southern sea in a land perfectly balanced by all four seasons, in a land more spiritual than most others. 

            Clementine had grown up sheltered from all things violent. Two loving parents and an affectionate older brother had raised her. The war for resources was distant, something she hadn’t had to worry about. Her town’s protector was a powerful water origin and the only source of anything even remotely dangerous. The worst she’d seen him do, when she was still a child, was capture two fleeing bandits in shackles of water.

            When he’d chosen her as his replacement, Clementine had been shocked. Becoming a protector was one of the highest honors in existence. She’d been unsure of herself and completely unsteady in her abilities, but she’d wanted it badly enough.

            Now, ten years later, wasn’t she supposed to feel far steadier than this? Diablo had been right – her time at the academy was almost over and the great protector of Isphem grew sicker by the day. 

            Clementine didn’t mean to let frost sneak its way into her hair. She didn’t mean for her veins to turn bluer, nor for her own emotions to fall out of check. 

            Droplets slid from her eyes, passive ones that came without sniffling or any other sign that she was crying. She pulled her knees to her chest and let her head rest there.

            “Clementine.” 

            Raising her eyes felt heavy, but she met Scout’s eyes anyways. Outside, the sun had fallen quite a bit. “I didn’t want her to get upset. I didn’t mean to ignore her, to make her feel the way she did, to…” Clementine trailed off. Even then, Scout stayed listening. 

            When Clementine said nothing more, Scout crouched down. “Diablo is a complicated person.” She spoke slowly like she was still formulating her next words. “She’s purely flame, perhaps more so than any other fire origin protector to exist.” A pause followed. Scout’s eyes, a deep earthly brown, were intense and comforting, but Clementine had to look away. “When she finds fuel, she burns, so cut off the supply.”

            Clementine nodded, but still said nothing. Eventually, Scout stood and turned her back to Clementine. “We’ll be at the party,” she said strictly, almost in a demanding tone, before walking out of the room.

            Clementine’s gaze fell to the palm of Scout’s left hand, scoured by blisters, and Clementine’s guilt only grew as she wondered just how many times Scout had reached for Diablo when no one else would.

            The room felt too big around Clementine, too full of loud silence. Diablo’s bed, tucked into the corner next to Clementine’s, seemed to be abuzz with her energy. A million things were flung out of the wardrobe they shared, most of which were Diablo’s. Scout had the bed farthest from them both with her own smaller wardrobe at the foot of the bed. Three desks lay, side by side, against the wall across from the wardrobe.

            Unable to find it in herself to get up, Clementine stayed where she was for a long time, letting the emptiness wash over her. She didn’t want to go to the party. She wanted to stay here and cozy herself into a new dream distant from the mess she’d unknowingly created, but that wasn’t the answer. The fuel still existed like a shiny new plaything for Diablo.

            So, Clementine got to her feet. She brushed through her frizzled hair and tried to ignore how much redder her naturally puffy eyes looked. She put on a cloak to cover her short trousers and simple top before making her way out of the dorm room.

            The whole way down the dim, candlelit stairwell leading to the ground from the girl’s wing, she wondered what she would say, and if she could even pull Diablo away from the others without causing an explosion. Her hopes were high that Scout would have already spoken to her enough to calm her feelings.

            “It’s time.” Clementine flinched at the voice as she opened the heavy door that led outside and found a light rain falling. When she stepped out, it fell towards her, changing its path to the ground just for her.

            The voice had come from both nowhere and everywhere. 

            “Protector?” Clementine said, even as her skin took on a lighter tone. 

            “As you fade, do not be alarmed,” his gentle, echoing voice said. “The academy is a place between worlds. To change is the only way to leave it.”

            Despite his words, Clementine felt a natural panic coming on as her skin, ever so slowly, began its journey towards transparency. This was how she’d gotten here – she’d simply faded out of existence in her world and found herself in a room within the academy full of unfamiliar faces – but still, it was a scary process.

            She ran. Kahi’s room was across campus with the rest of the boys, making it feel like the longest run of her life. Her skin was pale, far too pale for her liking, and she was losing sight of herself.

            When she finally made it, she swung the door to the boy’s wing, identical to the girl’s, open and let her feet pound up the stairwell. 

            The second floor had many people in it milling about. When they saw Clementine’s skin, they gasped and quietly moved aside, giving her room to rush. Too many at this campus had gone through a too-short goodbye with those that faded before others.

            Kahi’s door was open and full of people. Clementine swallowed as she looked around, but she couldn’t spot Diablo.

            She glanced down at her hand. It was nearly invisible. There was no time for manners.

            “Diablo!” Clementine screamed, finding the same desperation Diablo had expressed earlier. For the moment, she didn’t care about the many eyes that fell on her, the new quiet that was rippling out like waves. Her character was someone that appreciated her roommate, but only now was finding the loud, confident voice to make it known.

            In her last moments in the academy, she found Diablo’s face, her mouth hanging open and her eyebrows raised. The glass she was holding, full of some type of rum, fell from her hand as she pushed her way through to Clementine, leaving behind a stoic-looking Scout.

            Diablo fell into Clementine’s disappearing arms. She hugged her tightly.

            She only had a moment to do so before this girl she should have been better at appreciating slipped away. With a gasp, she awoke in her old, familiar room.

            The sweet smell of honeywax candles hung in the air. Silently, as Clementine breathed in this new yet old place, she vowed to become someone Diablo would have loved to know.

            Perhaps she would even get to see her again.