Burying Our Promises by the Lake
After spending a long time crying and laughing by the lakeside with Ariel, I headed home with a trembling heart. Even though Psyche had sent me off so maturely, Ariel's departure was a huge change for me—and for the strange bond between the three of us.
The moment I opened the front door, Psyche, who had been sitting at the desk scribbling away with a quill, greeted me with a bright smile. "Sister, welcome back? Did things... work out with Ariel sister?"
I slipped off my shoes and sat down beside her. Looking into her clear eyes, guilt washed over me first, but I carefully recounted everything Ariel had told me that day.
"Psyche. Ariel's leaving the village soon. She's moving to the capital. So once the festival ends, we might not see each other for a really long time. It could even be years."
Psyche's purple eyes wavered大きく for a moment. Her lips parted in surprise, but then she calmly placed her small hand over the back of mine and nodded. "The capital...? That's really far away. No wonder your face looks a little sad, sister. She's your most precious friend."
"Yeah. So, Psyche—what I wanted to say is, until Ariel leaves, I want to spend as much time as possible with her, even if it's just these last few days."
Psyche waited obediently for my next words.
"I want to make some final memories for her. I'm really sorry to leave you alone... but can you understand?"
At my cautious question, Psyche gripped my hand tightly instead and smiled beautifully. It was a deeper, more resolute smile than her usual coquettish grin. "Of course, sister! I told you—I trust you now. Ariel sister probably needs you more than ever right now."
Psyche looked up at me proudly. "I'll review all the books you've taught me and become a smart girl in the meantime. When you get back, you have to tell me everything, okay? It's a promise!"
Her thoughtful response touched me deeply, and I pulled Psyche into a tight hug. Thanks to her understanding, I could shake off the heavy weight in my chest and fully prepare for my last moments with Ariel.
The next day, Ariel and I roamed every corner of the village like we had no tomorrow, piling up happy memories. The festival square buzzed with even more vibrancy than usual, colorful flags fluttering everywhere, sweet strains of music drifting without end.
We headed straight for the temporary stage in the center of the square, where clowns with comical gestures were juggling. "Roen, look at that! He's juggling five balls!" Ariel clapped and squealed like a child. When one clown accidentally dropped a ball on his nose, we doubled over laughing until our sides hurt.
The following play told the tragic tale of star-crossed lovers, tugging at our heartstrings until we shared a single handkerchief, dabbing away tears. Ariel seemed especially immersed. Even after it ended, we ran around the square mimicking the protagonists' lines for ages.
"Roen, they say even the Diamond Mountains are best after a meal! Smell that—those chicken skewers are divine."
Once the play wrapped up, we filled our bellies with street food. The skewers sizzled over the fire, slathered in sweet-salty sauce; one bite, and savory juices flooded my mouth. "Ariel, you've got sauce all over your mouth! So sloppy."
"Then wipe it off for me! You've got some right here too."
We giggled while cleaning sauce off each other's faces. Normally, I'd worry about prying eyes, but in that moment, it felt like just the two of us in the world.
We popped sugar-coated candy apples into our mouths and headed to the shooting gallery. Ariel clutched her stomach laughing every time my arrows missed, but when hers hit a tiny doll, she cheered like she'd conquered the world.
When the afternoon sun blazed hottest, we raced to our secret spot by the lake as if on cue. "Prepare yourself, Roen!" Ariel hiked up her skirt hem first and splashed into the water. Her kick sent cold droplets spraying mercilessly across my face and clothes.
"Ah! Ariel! You're dead!" I jumped in after her, splashing with both hands. Our refreshing laughter echoed across the serene lakeside every time cool water hit our cheeks.
We splashed each other wildly, darting through the shallows. The smooth sand between my submerged toes, the cool breeze on my skin, Ariel's endless giggles—all etched into my mind like an eternally frozen photograph.
Exhausted from play, we collapsed onto the grass, soaked to the bone. Fluffy clouds drifted lazily across the blue sky. In the pleasant drowsiness of our drying clothes under the sun, Ariel spoke softly. "Roen, let's do this."
She pulled out a small iron box from her bosom, meticulously oiled to prevent rust. It held our childhood photos—magical snapshots from this world—and various mementos.
"Let's write letters to each other with what we want to say, and put them in this box. Then, when we're grown up, we'll come back and open it together."
To my most precious friend in the world, Ariel.
Do you remember the day we first met? You approached me when I was just drifting through my days, bored and alone. I didn't realize it then, but that day might have been the biggest turning point in my life. Even though we're parting for now, you are the brightest piece of my life. Don't lose that warm smile of yours in the capital. No matter where you are, I'll always be here cheering for your dreams.
"All done?" After finishing my letter, I sneaked a peek at Ariel's. She shielded it with her whole body.
"You can't see mine yet! We open them when we meet again someday. Promise!"
Ariel folded hers carefully into the box with a mysterious smile. Though her letter's contents remained a secret, I read mine aloud right there in front of her. It was embarrassing, but these were my true feelings I could only share at the end.
As my recitation ended, tears welled up in Ariel's eyes again. She took my letter gently and tucked it deep into the box. "When I become a famous mage in the capital and return to this village, we'll open it then. Ten years, twenty—whatever. Promise?"
"Of course. By then, I'll be the most influential person in the village. I might even rent out the whole lakeside for you."
We dug a deep hole beneath the largest, oldest zelkova tree by the lake and buried our treasure. Covering it with soil and piling small stones as a marker, we turned our farewell into a promise of reunion.
At night, we picked out pretty ribbons and hairpins from the night market stalls for each other, then spent our last silver coins on fortune-tellers wishing us luck. When the seer said, "You'll travel far but are fated to reunite with someone precious," Ariel sighed in relief and squeezed my hand tight.
We strolled lantern-lit streets, humming nameless tunes. The lively energy of passersby and the floral scent in the night air felt like a blessing on our final days.
Sharing the village's biggest cotton candy, we chattered endlessly about next year's festival plans and what the capital's bakeries might be like. But as our talk flowed, a quiet ache grew in my heart. I knew "next year" no longer meant this scenery for Ariel.
As if by unspoken agreement, we avoided sad topics, focusing only on the joy of now, treasuring the sight of each other in our eyes.
We danced clumsily to music from the square's edge, donned festival masks to scare each other, playing like kids our age. Breathless and legs aching, no one suggested stopping first—we knew joy's end meant farewell's arrival.
Our happy time slipped away cruelly fast, like the last grain in an hourglass. The taste of those chicken skewers, the lake's chill, the earthy scent of burying the time capsule—all seared deep in my chest, but powerless against time's flow.
Village lanterns winked out one by one, nightly greetings echoing between homes. We circled the square one last time, praying this scene would remain unchanged next year—and that we'd be at its center together.
Thus, even our joyful moments were fleeting; the time to part from Ariel loomed right before us.