The stains on the glass

The girl in her dreams was smiling at her, her long blue hair flowing in the wind like waves, and her lilac eyes shining with affection, as always, but for some reason she seemed older. For the first time, Opal could see that she wore a purple cape and a dusty armour, on whose cuirass was visible the symbol of a crystal sword. She was probably a knight, but that same sword was strapped to her side, so maybe she was an important person? Opal wondered if the dream would have ever told her. Maybe, or maybe not; however, the girl’s lips were moving and Opal focused all of her attention on whatever the girl was telling her, which had the effect of transforming previously vague sounds into perfectly intelligible words.

“-don’t know how much I’ll be capable of teaching you, or for how long I’ll be able to stay with you, but, Opal…” She put a hand on her head. “… Remember, even if I’m not here anymore, you’ll never be alone.” Her voice was so soft, albeit firm, but her gaze was so, so sad.

Opal wanted to comfort her, ask her what was wrong – did the girl perhaps think she didn’t have much longer to live? Why? Was it something else? What was happening? –, but neither her limbs nor her voice shared her wishes and wanted to indulge them.

“Oh, Opal…” The girl’s demeanour, if possible, softened even more. “Why are you crying?”

She was? She hadn’t noticed. Even knowing that, she didn’t feel tears gathering in her eyes and travelling down her cheeks. She could, however, believe she was effectively crying.

“Are you having a nightmare?” the girl asked, but it was wrong. That wasn’t a nightmare. And besides, how could she know they weren’t in the real world? It made no sense. “Opal?” The girl’s lips continued to move, but what came out of her mouth wasn’t her voice. “Opal, wake up!” It was Celsian’s.

Opal abruptly opened her eyes, finding herself face to face with a very concerned Celsian. Startled, Opal’s first instinct was to get up, but the only result that action got was a bump on both of their foreheads after they collided with each other.

“Ouch!” they both shouted, bringing their hands to their heads.

“Ah, you sure have a funny way to wake up, don’t you” Celsian commented, looking at Opal with only an eye open.

“Hey! What would you do if you woke up with someone staring at you?” Opal sat up on the bed she was previously lying on, pointing an accusatory finger at the other.

“I was just worried! You were crying in your sleep!”

Opal’s eyes widened a fraction, and her movements stopped. “I was?” She brought a hand to her cheek, noticing that it was damp with tear tracks. She glanced down and, sure enough, saw that there were dark spots on her borrowed pillow too. “… oh.”

“Yeah, ‘oh’. Were you having a bad dream?”

Opal slowly shook her head. “No, it was just… a sad one, I guess.” Before Celsian could ask something else, however, she got up and stretched. She didn’t really want to think about what that dream meant. “Anyway, what time is it?” she asked, particularly willing to change the topic of the conversation. After having eaten and spoken for a bit, the other had given Opal her bed, in case she wanted to rest, and she had taken her up on her offer while Celsian scribbled in her notebooks, but she didn’t know for how long she had slept.

“Nearly time to get out.” She smiled. “Are you ready?”

Opal shrugged. There was a part of her that was scared, but it wasn’t like she had much to prepare otherwise. “Sure.”

“Exactly what I wanted to hear. Let’s get going.”

Celsian grabbed a small satchel, that probably contained a few notebooks for her research, while Opal took with her a bag with her school uniform. They weren’t counting on staying in the capital, after all. A few minutes later, they were out.

At night-time, Kruos was silent and dark, nothing to do with the vibrancy of colours and sounds that painted the daylight. Moreover, the sky was covered by grey clouds, so there wasn’t even the light of the moon to make the city less umbrageous. Opal found it mildly unsettling, but she supposed that it was just how night-time was. She also supposed that it was her guilt talking, as well as her consideration that they were on the point of doing something very illegal on top of all the other illegal things they had already done. The fact that they had to get around and past an honestly ridiculous and frankly more than necessary number of knights, by circumventing buildings and from time to time walking on their roofs, definitely didn’t help with Opal’s nerves, but Celsian seemed to know what to do and that at least was reassuring.

A few outflanked knights and buildings later, they successfully arrived at the cathedral, which, strangely enough, wasn’t guarded as much as they would’ve thought. Proceeding rapidly and carefully, they got in through a back door that was probably used by the people working there, which gave a perfect excuse to Celsian to show Opal her lock-picking skills.

As with Kruos, the cathedral too felt like a whole other place, at night. Gone were the colours and lights, the vitality of flowers: even though it remained majestic, its grandeur only made it oppressive, suffocating, and, with the lack of people, the silence felt simply grave.

Opal was frozen in awestricken discomfort, but Celsian shook her from her stupor. Quite literally, too. “Come on, Opal, the less time we spend here, the better” she said, putting a hand on her shoulder. “I like this place, but I don’t actually fancy the risk of getting caught.”

“Yeah… Yeah, you’re right.” Opal blinked, shaking her head. “How do we get there?” she asked, looking at the Saintess’ stained glass. It was strange how the more she observed that figure the more she got the impression she knew her, but it must’ve just been the result of all the time she had spent in the church back home.

Celsian shrugged, and then smiled lopsidedly. “Well, there aren’t any stairs that lead to it, so…” She trailed off, offering Opal a hand while her numerous soul pebbles glowed and extended. “It’s time for me to shine! The Felspat Transports are at your service, once again.”

Opal let out a small laugh and took the other’s hand. Even though this time she was a bit more prepared at the prospect, she wasn’t picked up in a bridal carry, but somewhat gently enveloped and consequently lifted by those stone branches. “What, you’re aiming to offer me a better travel experience than last time?”

Celsian rolled her eyes. “Ha ha ha, you’re so funny. Last time I was simply in a hurry, but you know…” She smirked. “If you wanted to be swept off your feet again, you just had to tell me-”

Opal’s face flushed in embarrassment. “No, no, that wasn’t-”

“I can carry you however you wish-”

“No, absolutely not, this is fine- More than fine! Please don’t change anything!”

Celsian burst into laughter, wiping away a non-existent tear from her eye. “Of course, of course.” When she calmed down, after a few moments, she said “Let’s go”, and the branches took hold on the floor, extending even more and lifting them up until they were in front of the stained glass.

“Okay, so now I just have to… touch it?” Opal asked, perplexed.

“Well, nothing changed whatsoever when you simply got closer, so yes, please do.”

Opal nodded, stretching a hand towards it, only vaguely aware of the fact that Celsian had stopped holding her other one and was now watching her every movement like a hawk. Opal was just shy of touching the glassy surface, when she felt a fierce stab of pain shooting all of a sudden through her skull. She cried out, bringing a hand to her head. Celsian called out her name, evidently worried, but Opal barely even heard her. She was suddenly lost, her mind far away and her eyes not really seeing, adrift in an ocean of déjà-vus that destabilised her. She had the sensation she’d already been there, on the point of touching that same stained glass, but how was that possible? She had no memories of finding herself there before, apart from when she’d fallen into that world.

She felt confused, strangely detached from reality, until fingers gently gripped her wrist and then her hand and she was lowered to the cathedral floor.

“-pal?” A hesitant call, becoming surer and firmer with each passing second. “Opal?”

She blinked, finally recognising Celsian, who was kneeling in front of her. The stone branches were gone and the other’s belongings were abandoned on the floor next to her, but what definitely roused all of Opal’s senses was the expression on Celsian’s face, because, for the first time since they’d met each other, she wasn’t excited, or amused, or even perplexed, no. She was scared.

“Opal? Can you hear me?”

“Celsian?”

The latter’s eyes widened a fraction- in relief, split-second surprise, both, Opal couldn’t really tell: many emotions passed on her face one after the other, at the speed of a hummingbird’s wings, getting lost in transition. “Opal!” It felt like she wanted to hug her or do something similar, but she held back and took a deep breath instead. “You…” She trailed off, tried again. “… I was worried. Are you okay?” A beat, and then: “What happened?”

Opal shook her head. “I don’t really know. One moment I was on the point of touching the glass, the next I felt a piercing pain in my head.” The rest was still a blurred ensemble of images and sensations she couldn’t explain. “I’m fine now, though. I’m sorry I made you worry.”

“No, you-” The other stopped for a moment, taking a breath. “The important thing is that you’re okay, you don’t have to be sorry.” She seemed to hesitate, but then added: “I should be the one to apologise.” At last, Opal managed to pinpoint the strongest emotion on Celsian’s face: it was none other than guilt.

She frowned. “Hey, no. For what?” The other opened her mouth, but she lifted a hand up to interrupt her before she could speak. “No, don’t answer. I agreed to do it, and you didn’t know something like this would happen. How could you even imagine it? It’s not like we wanted to fight a dragon without armour or anything similar, I just had to touch some glass.”

“I know, but still-”

Before Opal could even decide if it was better to try and comfort her or to bonk her on the head with a karate chop, the entrance to the cathedral opened all of a sudden with a loud slam, making Opal wince and Celsian instinctively jump to her feet.

In the door profile, surrounded by guards and illuminated by those thin slivers of moonlight that managed to filter through the clouds, stood a fairly young knight with lilac eyes and long, purple, wavy hair, of which the strands on the top were braided together in a simple but elegant manner. She held a shining sword in her left hand, ready for combat, and seemed furious.

“Celsian Felspat, guilty of countless crimes against the crown” she thundered, her voice clear and sure like an execution, amplified by the wall structure in the cathedral. “I hereby declare you under arrest.”