Reflection: The Stranger in the Mirror

by Rachel R. Smith

  Suddenly, she realized that the eyebrows above the eyes she was staring into had arched up and the rest of his face had taken on a bemused expression.

  "Yes?" he asked.

  Nerissa blinked, cheeks flushing crimson with the realization that she had been staring. "I-I'm sorry," she stammered. "Your eyes are really green." There it was—the world’s most brilliant recovery. Men don't stare at one another that way, she chided herself. No woman with good sense would stare so openly either. She really never would pass for a man if she kept up this behavior.

  Raysel seemed not to have noticed her squirming, or at least he pretended not to. "My mother calls them viridian," he said. His exaggerated grin brought a wan smile to Nerissa’s face. Raysel's expression turned serious as he cocked his head to one side and peered intently into her own eyes. It felt like he was looking through her again and Nerissa’s heart fluttered nervously. "Yours aren't so different. Have you looked in a mirror lately?"

  The reflection that greeted her in the mirror every day flashed back into her mind: no curls, no hair pins, no makeup or even nail polish. Her stylish—feminine—clothes had been lost and replaced by the simple tunic and linen pants favored by the men in Darnal. The awareness of her new appearance suddenly made her feel sick to her stomach and painfully insecure. "As a matter of fact, I have," Nerissa replied curtly, not wanting to dwell on those thoughts. She felt the heat in her cheeks growing. Was that even possible?

  Raysel shifted uncomfortably. He had meant to compliment her, but, evidently, she had not interpreted it that way. He twitched his lips to one side and then the other, struggling to think of something else to talk about. "What was I thinking? I haven't even properly introduced myself yet! I am Raysel, First Swordsman of the Ohanzee; son of Haku, the Chief Preceptor; and Ebba, the blacksmith." He affectionately patted the sword now lying on the ground by his side. "And this is Thorn."

  Nerissa already knew who he was, but Ildiko had neglected to mention that he was the First Swordsman. Unsure what that title meant, she opted for a respectful nod and quickly thought of a way to return the introduction. She hadn’t formulated one for her new identity yet, so she chose to keep it short and vague. "I'm Caeneus, formerly of Niamh and currently residing with Ildiko and Chief Einar."

  Raysel’s face took on an unreadable look. He nodded and turned to stare silently at the waterfall. They sat awkwardly without speaking for several minutes. The only sound aside from the distant roar of the waterfall was the creaking of Raysel's sandals as he wiggled his toes. Nerissa hadn't learned it yet, but Raysel had a habit of fidgeting when he was nervous.

  “Since I’m new to Darnal and the Ohanzee, I hope you won’t mind me asking this. What does it mean that you are First Swordsman?” Nerissa asked, attempting to break the uncomfortable silence.

  “It means that I am considered the highest ranked swordsman among all of the Ohanzee.” It was clearly an impressive title, but Raysel’s voice sounded wistful instead.

  “That is quite an accomplishment, considering the skill of your peers. You don’t sound proud of it though,” Nerissa replied. She hoped he wouldn’t be insulted by the comment.

  Raysel chuckled mirthlessly. “A title by itself has no value. It is what you accomplish that is important, and I don’t feel particularly worthy of it these days. I am working to redeem myself now.”

  Nerissa smiled gently. She could certainly empathize with his feelings. “It seems that we share similar sentiments.”

  “In what way?”

  “I find myself in a village I had never heard of, surrounded by strangers and possessing a claim to a royal title for a country that has been seized by a foreign king,” Nerissa replied.

  “I will do everything I can to help you take back your title,” Raysel said. Their eyes met again. Raysel’s were narrowed with determination while Nerissa’s were confused from the implication that came with the phrase: “take back your title.”

  "I do think that you're far too pretty to actually pass for a boy," Raysel added as if trying to answer her unspoken question.

  "Are you saying I look like a girl? That’s a rather rude thing to say!” Nerissa tilted her chin up in feigned indignance and hurriedly looked away. She hoped she had made it sound like that had been the most absurd comment ever, even though she was secretly pleased by the compliment. It would have been much more convincing had the last words not sounded choked.

  Raysel chuckled. "You don’t need to keep up that story with me. I knew who you were the moment I saw you peeking out from behind the laundry." He leaned in close, breath warm on her ear as he whispered, "Nerissa."

  With a gasp, she involuntarily jerked away from him, her startled eyes wide. Her heart fluttered again. She was unsure whether it was caused by hearing her real name or from the tingling sensation radiating from her ear that his whisper had triggered. "How did you know? I hardly even recognize myself!" Alarm flooded her falsely deepened voice.

  "I've watched over you every day for the last three years. I would know you anywhere, in any disguise," Raysel said. Nerissa’s cheeks were bright red again. She said nothing, so he rushed on with his explanation. “In addition to being the First Swordsman, I was your personal guardian. That is a title that I lost on the day that you supposedly died. It is a title I was given back after I discovered you were still alive.”

  “They told me my parents had personal guardians, but no one told me I had one too.”

  “I was assigned to be your guardian on the day you were officially named Heiress. I watched over you part of the time, and Einar watched over you the rest of the time. Normally, we wouldn’t have met until you took the oath as the Blood of Chiyo, at which point I would have become your guardian full time. But, recent events have altered those traditions.”

  “I can’t believe that I had no idea there was someone watching me all the time. I do recognize the scent of your cologne though. I was thinking earlier that it reminded me of home. Wearing cologne isn’t exactly discreet for someone who is supposed to be hiding.”

  “I suppose I wanted to somehow let you know that I was there, even if I couldn’t tell you.” Raysel’s cheeks flushed slightly.

  Nerissa didn’t seem to notice. She stared ahead at the waterfall. “Why didn’t Einar and Ildiko tell me about you before?”

  “I’m not sure. I expect that they planned to explain all of that to you when they introduced us.”

  “I guess that makes sense.” Nerissa twirled the sprig of leaves between her thumb and forefinger thoughtfully. “Were you at the masquerade that night?” she asked after a moment’s pause. If he had been there, perhaps he could help fill in some of her lost memories from that day.

  “I was, but not for long. Einar was on duty watching over you and Her Highness at the party. I was coordinating patrols of the festivities around the Manor itself. After suspicious activity was reported at the docks, I went inside only to gather reinforcements.”

  “I see.” She sounded disappointed.

  “I did see you in the garden right before the attack. Every day since then, I have regretted telling you to go back inside. I should have delivered you directly to Einar or stayed there to protect you myself. Instead, I followed protocol, thinking Einar knew where you were. I didn’t know you had changed costumes and Einar thought you were in your room. Valter died guarding an empty room.”

  Nerissa’s heart dropped into her stomach. A man had died in vain, all because of her selfish wish to enjoy the festivities anonymously that night. “If I had…”

  Raysel cut her off sharply. “I didn’t mean to imply that you were at fault. If you had been in your room, you would have died that night for certain and all would have been lost. Instead you are here, safe. Regardless of how it came to be, that is all that matters.”

  Nerissa still looked shaken. Raysel reached to take her hand to comfort her but withdrew, uncertain if she would consider the gesture to be too familiar. He may have watched over her for years, but, from her persp
ective, they were strangers meeting for the first time. “Let’s not dwell on the past. What matters now are your plans for the future. Einar asked me to come over tomorrow to make introductions, but since you showed up underneath my favorite “hang out,” I didn’t see any reason to wait.”

  “So you really were sitting up there the whole time?” Nerissa asked, incredulous.

  “Yes, but to be fair, I didn’t notice you were here until I woke up.”

  “Do you make a habit of sleeping in trees?”

  Raysel’s chuckle brought a smile to Nerissa’s face too. “Actually, I do—particularly following a hard day of training in the middle of the summer. If you sleep under the tree, eventually the shade moves, and you end up in the sun. Up in the branches, it stays shady all the time, so it makes far more sense to sleep in the tree.”

  “When you put it that way, it doesn’t sound so strange,” Nerissa replied with a small laugh. “I guess I’ll have to make a habit of checking the trees before I sit down so I don’t disturb anyone’s nap.”

  “You can, but from now on that will be my job.”

  Nerissa remembered his earlier comment about visiting the next day for Einar to make introductions. “So, I am correct in assuming that you are the one who has been assigned as my trainer.”

  “Yes, from now on I will be both your trainer and your personal guardian.” His eyes locked onto hers once more, and his expression was serious. “I swear I will not allow you to come to harm again. I will protect you even if it means dying myself.”

  Nerissa looked down, ashamed of and uncomfortable with the idea of anyone else being killed or injured for her sake. When she looked up again a few seconds later, her eyes flashed with resolve. “I will work as hard as I can to learn to protect myself so that neither you—nor anyone else—will ever need to sacrifice yourself for my safety.”

  “Well, dying to protect you would certainly be a last resort,” Raysel said, his tone oddly light. “After all, I can only be certain I’ve kept my promise to you if I’m alive to see it for myself. Would you feel better if we both promise to work our hardest to protect each other?” He held out his hand, pinky finger extended toward her in a gesture she hadn’t seen since childhood.

  Nerissa’s expression eased, and she curled her pinky around his. “It’s a promise.” They shook three times, but Nerissa held tight a moment longer before drawing back. She could still feel the warmth where their skin had met.

  “Since it seems we’ll be spending a lot of time together, why don’t you tell me more about yourself? All I know is who your parents are, that you are First Swordsman, and that you have a penchant for silently communicating your presence through cologne.” Nerissa counted off each of the facts on her fingers as she listed them.

  Raysel quickly turned away, but Nerissa could still see that the tips of his ears had turned bright pink. She smirked inwardly. He had seemed so composed this whole time that it was nice to think that, perhaps, she had made him as flustered as he made her.

  Raysel leaned back against the tree and sighed wryly, sandals creaking as he wriggled his toes. “Really? We finally meet and that is your first impression of me? Rian would have a good laugh at the irony. I have trained for as long as I can remember with the sole intention of one day becoming your guardian. I am the youngest ever to be named First Swordsman and the youngest to serve as personal guardian.” When he turned back to her, his expression was a mixture of damaged vanity and demure pride.

  “I-I-I didn’t realize all of that,” Nerissa stuttered.

  “It’s alright,” Raysel whined.

  Nerissa’s jaw dropped. His feelings weren’t hurt—he was just playing with her! Well, she wasn’t going to fall for that any longer. “Aren’t you awfully one-dimensional? Perhaps someone so young and accomplished has no time outside of training for hobbies?”

  Raysel tilted his head and gave her a sideways smirk. “It so happens that I traveled throughout Chiyo as part of my training and used the opportunity to amass a significant crystal collection.”

  Nerissa’s ears perked up. “Ildiko did say that you had a collection,” she said.

  “I’ve been interested in crystals for a long time. According to our family stories, one of my great-grandfathers, many, many greats ago, was in an incident involving a crystal that turned his hair white. Since then, all of the males in our family have been born with white hair,” he explained. He flicked the end of his long ponytail over his shoulder. “I don’t know if it is true or not, but I’ve been interested in the potential powers of crystals ever since.”

  “I think it could be true. Heredity in plants works in a similar way. The color of flowers or shape of leaves is passed from one parent to the daughter plants. I’m sure it must work the same way in humans.”

  Raysel snorted. “Are you comparing me to a plant?”

  “N-n-yes,” Nerissa admitted, stammering momentarily. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean it as an insult. I studied horticulture at university…”

  Raysel’s laughter interrupted her faltering explanation. “I’m named after a plant, but I’ve never actually been called one before.” Nerissa giggled despite herself.

  “What’s so funny over here?” Einar’s deep voice interrupted.

  “Just making conversation with this book thief I found loitering under my tree,” Raysel teased.

  Nerissa bit her lip and feigned a glare at Raysel. “I was minding my own business reading when this tree-dweller dropped in on me.”

  “I see,” Einar drawled. “Should I assume there’s no need for formal introductions tomorrow?”

  “I think we covered the important bits already, but I will still come by tomorrow as planned,” Raysel said seriously. He stood and offered a hand to help Nerissa up. “Until then.”

  “Until then,” she echoed, handing Einar the book she had taken from the Archives.

  Einar shook his head. Did anyone follow protocol anymore?

  Chapter 20

  The Other Student

  The summer passed by in a blaze of heat and sunlight. Nerissa spent her mornings conditioning with the juniors group and her evenings learning basic sword forms from Raysel. Once Ildiko had deemed her fully recovered from her injuries, she resumed archery training with Einar twice a week as well. Afternoon rest time, in the heat of the day, was spent in the Archives reading, relaxing with Raysel at his family’s home, or—her favorite combination—reading at the Archives with Raysel.

  Nerissa tapped the iron knocker attached to the ornately carved front door of one of the largest houses in the village. The outside was covered in now familiar tumbles of flowers so dense that they appeared to seamlessly spill forth from every window box in fragrant clusters and creep up the walls in a mix of thorns and petals. She could hear the repetitive clang of metal on metal resonating from the smithy nearby. A muffled voice called out “come in” from the other side of the door, and Nerissa let herself in. She stepped directly into the large room that served as both the common area and kitchen. The interior was covered in only slightly fewer flowers than the exterior. Garlands of dried blossoms draped in swags along the trim of the high ceilings and lined the tops of door frames. Elaborate wreaths decorated the walls, and dried herbs hung in carefully tied bundles from the fireplace hearth. The room lacked no shortage of fresh flowers as well, undoubtedly cut from the gardens surrounding the house. With the windows open, the interior of the room was a fragrant cloud. It was clear to Nerissa that Raysel’s mother, Ebba, was as passionate about flowers as she was about being a blacksmith.

  Two unusual sights greeted her. First, Raysel’s older sister, Cattleya, was oddly absent from her workstation in one corner of the room. While Cattleya had not exactly taken up her mother’s trade, she still followed in her footsteps by choosing to work with gold and silver as a jewelry designer. Apparently, no one in Raysel’s family did anything by halves, and Cattleya was no exception. The beauty and intricate craftsmanship of her jewelry were both distinctive and
of remarkable quality. Her creations were taken into Niamh to be sold by Ohanzee contacts—as were many products created by the artisans in Darnal. Nerissa had been surprised to find that she had unknowingly owned several of Cattleya’s pieces although she was sure they had also been lost on that terrible night. This was the first time that Cattleya had not been hard at work when Nerissa came to visit. She couldn’t help but wonder where the older girl was.

  The second unusual sight was a pile of laundry with legs, teetering its way through the room. It moved precariously along a course that led away from the back door and roughly toward the door leading to Raysel’s room.

  “Would you like a hand with that?” Nerissa asked.

  “No, I’ve got it,” the laundry pile replied though it sounded more like, “Mo, mphhmogit.”

  Shaking her head at his stubbornness, Nerissa crossed the room and opened Raysel’s bedroom door.

  “Fffanx,” said the laundry.

  Nerissa smirked and followed the pile as it tottered into the room, picking up the random clothing dotting the floor behind it like a breadcrumb trail. Somehow it made it across the room without banging its shins on any furniture and dropped into a heap on the bed, revealing Raysel beneath. Nerissa tossed the pieces she had collected in with the rest.

  “You couldn’t have used a basket?” Nerissa asked.

  Raysel gave her a wry look. “Cattleya had both of them filled with her laundry already.”