"I think it would be better if I were as far away from Clef as possible," Miata said glumly.

"You dislike him so much? Or no—" Cressida said, a flash of insight crossing her face, "—it’s just the opposite."

"I don’t—" Miata began, but Cressida looked at her in a way that let her know that the former Pillar would not believe a word of it. She took a deep breath and began again. "I know that any relationship I might have with him is doomed," she said. "Until the Legendary Battle, he must forget everything that happens in the Forest of Song. He told me—he said he cared for me, too, damn him!" She wiped away a tear, and Cressida embraced her, feeling rather solid despite her spectral appearance.

"There were times," Cressida said softly, "that I just wanted to cry and ask ‘why me?’ I didn’t have anyone’s shoulder to cry on, though. I was not the one who would bring the Legendary Battle—I still did my duties as Pillar, though not as well as I could have…it is impossible to stand alone, unless you have no feelings at all. I couldn’t, and I died. I know I’ll see him again, but—"

"I’m sorry," Miata replied. "All my life, I’ve tried to run away from loneliness. My mother was alone, and she—" The memory of coming home after the last time she had been to the Cathedral came to her mind again, and she pushed it hastily away. "And I swore that I would not be like her. Now it seems that I cannot escape it."

Cressida smiled. "But don’t you see? You’re not alone." And before Miata could get an explanation from her, the former Pillar vanished. The Byrde left the Cathedral.

It was dawn now, the sun rising on the eastern horizon, dying the sky red and pink. Miata was too preoccupied to enjoy the beauty of the sunrise, though, as she hurried back to where she left Clef.

*

"You said once that I did not know what it was like to have a hangover," he greeted her. "Now I can say that I have learned."

"I don’t care," Miata snapped, her voice wavering.

"You don’t look good," Clef noted. "Are you feeling all right?"

"I feel about as good as death’s leftovers," she replied acidly.

"I knew you needed to get some rest," Clef said. "You should get some sleep." Miata stared at him. "Now, Miata."

"My old teacher-Guru Clef is back," Miata replied dryly. "Just in time to regret his actions of last night. And words," she added, stifling a yawn.

"‘Regrets are worth nothing; apologies, little,’" he quoted some source Miata did not recognize. "Sleep is worth much, and you need it. What have you been up to all night?"

"I’ll tell you later, but now I think I should take your advice and take a nap."

"Good. When you wake up, we can talk about how we’re going to get back."

Miata yawned. "We’re not going back."

"What?!"

Miata didn’t reply, already fast asleep. Clef looked down at her with a sigh.

Things have become so confusing, he thought unhappily. She says she will explain, but I don't think that even she knows everything about it. Certainly not as much as she thinks she does.

But there seems to be more to her than she will ever tell anyone, especially me. He might have left her then, but he had no idea where he was, or where he could go. Even if he did, though, he didn't want to leave.

It's not just that I am attracted to her, I really do think I love her. And she's as much as admitted that she has feelings for me as well, though she tries to hide it. She doesn't want to admit it--why? What is she so afraid of? Why can’t we simply be happy together? It was mind-boggling for even the chief magician of Cephiro, especially when he was already burdened with a killer headache. He could now understand how Miata had been so reluctant to get up when she had a hangover, and cursed himself for his stupidity of last night.

I do not regret what I said, though, he told himself firmly. Not one word of it!

*

She dreamt she was the second Byrde, Aurora’s daughter Cetera. The first to leave the forest and become a minstrel at the Palace of Cephiro. She saw an ill-fated love affair flare and dwindle, leaving Cetera alone to die, leaving behind a child to take on her duties. And then Miata was a captive audience to that poor girl’s life, and the next Byrde, and the next, and so on until—

"No, please, I don’t want to see—" she murmured, and Clef saw Miata stirring. He shook her, and her eyes snapped open. She clung to him, crying.

"Miata…" Clef began, not certain what he should say.

"Don’t let me die alone," she whispered, her head buried in his shoulder. "Please—you can’t—"

"I won’t," Clef replied. "I promise."

"Only you will," Miata moaned. "Fate will drag you away from me…"

"I will never leave you. Last night you said you would protect me. Well, I swear that I will protect you, too."

"I don’t need protection," Miata whispered. "Only…just…to be loved. To not have to be alone. She told me I was not alone," she continued, though Clef had no idea who the "she" Miata referred to was, "did she mean you?"

"I…I guess I don’t know, really. Who told you?"

"Cressida," Miata replied. In her Forest of Songs, she had no trouble saying it.

"But Cressida is dead," Clef replied, sounding confused. Miata gasped. Until now, Clef had forgotten Cressida had existed—but now, outside of Emeraude’s power, he remembered.

"Cressida is dead," Miata replied softly, and went on to explain where she had gone and what had occurred. She shivered as she related her flashback of Aurora—it seemed as if she really had been the Priestess, and she felt the pain and loss just as vividly as if the memories were her own. The dreams of other Byrdes had given her a similar feeling, leaving her feeling drained enough for several lifetimes. Such sleep was not exactly restful.

"Oh, Miata," Clef said softly, his lips brushing gently across her hair. Miata still felt a bit odd about Clef’s treating her so gently, but it wasn’t at all a bad feeling. He’d promised not to leave her enough times that she’d finally begun to believe it. Cressida had told her that she was not alone. Did that mean that her fate really was different from her predecessors?

"It’s strange," she said quietly, "but my whole life, all I wanted was not to end up like my mother. How was I to know that she had wished for the very same thing? And her mother, and then her mother before her—"

"Shh," Clef replied. "Dwelling on it isn’t doing you any good. You are different from all of the others."

"No, don’t you see? I’m the same! We’re all the same!" By now she was out of tears, shaking her head while her voice broke with sadness.

"No, you are not the same. I love you."

Miata couldn’t look at him. "Oh, Clef…"

The Guru pulled her face up gently, forcing her to look up at him. "I love you," he repeated firmly. "Nothing could make me leave you. Nothing. All I want is to be with you, no matter what else happens."

"Clef, I can’t—I mean, I—oh, I cannot!" Miata burst out.

"What’s wrong?"

"You have to forget everything." Miata spoke quietly and evenly, trying desperately to control her voice. "Everything that happens here in the Forest of Song. You must not even know that this place exists, and even what I teach you here will be locked away until you have need for it."

"You can’t!" Clef replied. "Why do you say you must do that to me?"

"It is for your own safety, and also because you now know of the Cathedral," Miata replied. "Your memory will be returned to you after the Legendary Battle, but by then, you will care little for me—"

"I wouldn’t!" Clef protested. "You can’t expect me to forget everything."

"I can make you forget," Miata replied. "I must, and I will."

"But you will make me remember again, eventually?" Clef asked, his voice softer.

"Yes. But it may be centuries from now—"

"You can’t make me forget that I love you…can you?"

"I can," Miata replied firmly, "and I will. If something happens to me, you—"

"You won’t," Clef said. "I can’t let you. I won’t!"

"Oh? I could make you forget your own name if I wanted to. In the Forest of Song, I have all the power of a Pillar."

Clef looked for a moment as if her were going to argue, but he shut his mouth. "How long do we have, then?" he asked softly.

"I don’t know," Miata replied, looking up at him. "Months, at the very least. Perhaps many years."

"Then we have time." Clef smiled. "Last night you told me that I was making a fool of myself. It occurred to me that you’re the only woman that I want to make a fool of myself with."

Hearing that out of Guru Clef made Miata’s jaw drop. She shut her mouth quickly and waited a moment before speaking. "Not now," she said. "I need to get some real sleep, some restful sleep."

Was it her imagination, or did Clef look slightly disappointed?

"Yes, I suppose you’ve not had your fair share of that," he sighed. "I can even spell you so that you won’t dream, if you would like."

"I would appreciate that," Miata replied. "Thank you."

"You are quite welcome, Ruby."

Miata’s eyes widened. "What?" she asked feebly. "Why did you call me Ruby?"

"Because—oh, you’re like a precious gem, and your hair is such a lovely red."

"My mother…she always called me Ruby," Miata murmured, unable to keep her eyes open. "When I was little. And I hated it, especially after she…" she drifted off. "I hate the color red, but it seems to be my doom."

"Excuse me?"

"The dress of the Byrde has always been red. My hair is red. I hate the color."

"Why don’t you change?"

"I could just as well try to change the color of my skin," Miata sighed. "It’s not worth the thought I’m putting into it."

"I love you for who you are, Miata," Clef replied. "If this is who you are, you must accept yourself."

"You don’t understand—" Miata began, but she sighed and cut the thought off, smiling. "But then, you are only a man. Just a man after all." She yawned. "I love you, Clef," she whispered.

"I know."

"But you haven’t kissed me. I want you to kiss me." She tilted her face up at him, waiting. Awkwardly, Clef leaned down and pressed his lips to hers.

"You’ve never kissed anyone before, have you?" Miata asked, looking at him skeptically out of one open eye. Clef blushed.

"Well…no. Not unless you count my mother."

"You kiss like I was your mother." Miata seized his face between her hands, forcing his mouth open with hers as she pulled him down to her. Clef’s eyes went wide with shock at first, but slowly closed as he relaxed. When he opened them again, Miata’s eyes were closed, her breathing soft and even. He sighed and tried to arrange her into a more comfortable position, and he cast a spell on her to ensure dreamless sleep. Then he lay down beside her, draping his cloak around them both. Miata sighed contentedly in her sleep and snuggled against him, but Clef could not find sleep for a long time.

*

"I know you’re in there!" Clef woke with a start, hearing the curt voice. "I demand to know the meaning of this at once!"

"Damn." Beside him, Miata yawned. "She’s here already," she murmured groggily. "If you’ll excuse me, Clef, I must go teach her a lesson for ruining what could have been a very nice morning."

"Huh? Who’s here?"

"Emeraude. I suppose she deserves some sort of acknowledgment."

"The Pillar of Cephiro, and you just ‘suppose she deserves some sort of acknowledgment.’"

"She’s not the Pillar here," Miata replied, and she kissed him gently. "No need for you to get up. I can take care of this myself."

"Why is she here?"

"I’ve stolen her best magician," Miata replied. "But I won’t give him up." Clef smiled and kissed her face repeatedly, trying to pull her back to him, but Miata rolled away and stood. "I’ll be back as quickly as I can," she told him, stretching. She walked away, leaving Clef to examine his surroundings.

The trees surrounding the clearing seemed to be bending in around it, as if trying to form a roof. Branches twisted into forms that looked like the beginnings of furniture, and even the place where he had slept had grown higher and softer, well on its way to becoming a bed. It was magic, to be sure—but a sort of magic that he’d never encountered.

Or maybe I have, he realized. Simply nature bending itself to the will of one—even when she isn’t doing it consciously. Isn’t that what the Pillar system is? How can it be fair, that everything depends on the will of one person? When something happens to them—like the first thunderstorm in Cephiro, it must have been the night that Ferio was conceived. Too preoccupied to pray for Cephiro—

But Miata doesn’t have to pray. Oh, Miata…He sighed, leaning back into the grass that behaved uncannily like a mattress. I’ve only just found you…why will I have to forget you?