And so I worked myself closer to that day when my sister would leave me. I did not dwell on it much, however. That was the way life went on. A heavier load of work would be on my shoulders, but I felt ready to accept it.
Two evenings later after I had last seen Epiphany, the advent of the frosty night brought a burning emptiness upon me. I could not leave my bed for the cold outside my blanket, but I could hardly stay in bed, either. I huddled under the blanket and moved my thoughts as far away from my world as I could. Yet I always found myself focusing on the emptiness in my gut. I finally gave up on thinking and just lay still, feeling and hearing the emptiness inside me. And finally, I understood- it was the place magic had filled. Before I had met the Wielder, the impossible spiritual wanderlust was the only thing that had filled my emptiness. Now, that wanderlust was back, with feverish intensity. It would not let me sleep.
It was too cold to go outside, and the clouds covered the stars. Epiphany could not come to look at them with me tonight.
Epiphany's words still held a grasp on my soul. I tried to shake them off, but I could not keep from thinking. When I was younger I would have gladly seized the possibility of being The One, but now, that possibility brought fear more intense than anything I had ever known.
The One? I was not the One. Then who was? It would be impossible to find out, with the One hidden. How would Epiphany find the One, then? The Weilder had left her with an impossible task. The world was doomed. What the One needed was faith in the ideal of the One, because they had no way of understanding, as I thought I understood, whether they really were the One or not.
Faith. That was what Epiphany had been asking for in me, even as I had looked for tangible evidence of Dark and One-ness, which was impossible for me to find. One had to have faith in the possibility that they might be the One.
And I had not given that to Epiphany.
I lay awake, feeling more and more empty.
Days of loneliness amid the hubbub of preparation drove me even further from myself. The world seemed less bright and happy than it had been. It was as if I was losing my ability to enjoy life. Half of me wanted to get away from the trivial chatter that surrounded me, and the other half yearned for it. Half did not want to think past the moment, and half wanted to search for a deeper meaning. I blamed it all on thinking too much and tried to go on with my work, but I could not keep from thinking at night. I drove myself to exhaustion.
On one of my thought-filled nights, the revelation that I had been turning over in my head finally broke through my soul. My sister was to be married the day after the next, and as much as I wanted to think about nothing else until then, I knew that I could not. I pulled on that discipline that I had always prided myself on, that willingness to jump up and fight at the moment of necessity, to save the world. I knew that I could not wait longer. I would begin everything at the break of day.
Perhaps I could enjoy life again. I hated what I had become.
I had made a resolution, but I did not act on it. I woke too late and was shoved into work. Work without pause, scrubbing my soul to tatters. Night. Exhaustion felled me. Day again, finally: anticipation, ceremony, and celebration. My family cried to heaven with joyfulness, and somehow I could pretend that I felt as they did. I hugged everyone and ran off to serve. The wedding wreaths at the gate brought uninvited guests, and every guest demanded something to eat and drink.
"A mugful, dear lady!" called a familiar voice. I whirled toward the grinning, mug-bearing guest.
"ROUN!" I shouted and hugged him. I had not noticed missing him, but now that I was together again with him, I felt infinitely better.
"What luck I've had! I followed word of a wedding and free drinks, and I found you!"
"It's my sister, she's just been married. Roun, I can't believe you're here! I haven't had time to talk to you in... a long time!"
"You look like you've had a rough time."
"Well... I wish we could talk..." I looked up and saw a mother's halfİknowing nod and wink.
The air outside was sharp and cold, but I felt relief at leaving the crowd.
"I'm exhausted," I sighed as I slid onto the fence.
"You look it," Roun commented, sliding onto the next rail.
"Mmm. A wedding is a lot of work."
"Yes." We sat silently. I looked up.
"...Stars are pretty."
"Fireflies that got stuck."
I giggled and continued staring. Stars. Roun whispered and made a movement with his hand. Suddenly, Epiphany appeared. Not Epiphany exactly- her eyes were too large and her mouth too small, and her nose ended in a pointed hook upwards. It was a mockery of Epiphany, but even this mockery, when shoved into my face from the stars, shocked me.
The image disappeared. Roun was laughing. I had fallen off the fence. I laughed at myself and grabbed Roun's offered hand.
"Silly Zia. You aren't worrying over Epiphany, are you?"
"Well, no... I mean, I WAS thinking about her. How did you know?"
"You wrinkle up when you're worried."
"Well... I'm going to talk to her tomorrow."
"Let me warn you, she probably won't be home."
"No?"
Roun laughed. "There is a light in the Weilder's house. I saw it on the way here."
"Oh. Do you think Epiphany will still be there tomorrow?"
"Zia, what are you going to talk to her about."
"Nothing... just things..." I lowered my head.
"Are you sure?"
I could feel Roun's accusing eyes on me. I sighed and then quietly explained the revelation of two nights ago.
"You're really going to do this, Zia?"
I nodded. I had to.
"Well. Zia. If you must, go tonight." I raised my head in surprise. "Just let me come with you. I do not want Epiphany talking you into anything you don't want to do. I can come along, right?"
"It sounds fair..."
"I'll wait outside, if you want."
"Please."
"Can we go now?"
"I'll go see."
Inside, the festivities were continuing with the determined endurance of a party that would not stop until morning. I grabbed two young neighbors, a girl just old enough to be a goosegirl and her twin brother, and told them to tell anyone who asked that I had gone to Epiphany's.