Kazuri held out a vial to the windows, catching the light. He examined the clear liquid contained within the glass. Its physical features twinned with water, but it wasn't water—it was something else. He stirred it with a gentle shake, unsure of what to expect, but nothing happened. Then he stretched his arm to keep the vial away from his face and held his breath as he shook the bottle with vigor. Still, nothing happened.

"Ha!" Kazuri exclaimed, grinning. He removed the cork of the bottle and sniffed. The liquid had no color, no odor, and it followed the shape of the vial. A marvel bloomed in his chest as he observed the mixture. "I've done it," he said, turning around to find an audience, but he was alone inside his workshop in the Ozaro Palace. A little disappointed, he turned his gaze back to the bottle in his hand and raised it—the marvel inside him turned to pride. "Great old kings! I've done it!"

As if on cue, a thudding knock came at the door.

"Come in," he said with excitement. At last, a spectator to behold the result of his latest experiment. A small part of him hoped it would be Gat Kida, and when the door opened to reveal her, a toothy grin spread over his lips.

"Beautiful blue skies, Master Kazuri." Gat Kida wore her karkan, green for an Eskolar. Beneath the thin pineapple fabric of the knee-length robe were a pale kimona and a deep moss saya.

Kazuri had only seen Gat Kida in her karkan on rare occasions, and he wondered why she wore it today. His mind lingered on that for a quick moment before returning to the vial.

Finally, an audience. "Ah! Gat Kida, come look at this." He waved a hand for her to join him by the table.

"What is it?" Gat Kida asked, focusing on the container. Her features caught the sun. Her light brown eyes appeared fiery. Her dark hair was neatly piled on her head, pinned with a payneta bejeweled with white pearls that shined under the light. The golden flower on her neck glowed. Even her green karkan glittered, too—the intrinsic threaded patterns of vines across the chest and around the cuffs grew bright. The only thing unfit with how she looked was the thread of bones on her hips that swayed with her movement.

"This is lakar mixed with zinc," Kazuri said as she approached. "I figured out how Master Taoro did it. With enough heat and the right amount of zinc, lakar turns into liquid." He gave the bottle a longing look. "Now all I have to do is drink it and experience the effects for myself." He leaned the mixture to his face, only intending to sniff it.

"No, Master!" Gat Kida cried, and she swatted his arm, sweeping the vial from his grasp. It shattered when it hit the floor, making her step back and press a palm to her lips. "Forgive me. I don't know what came over me."

"It's alright," Kazuri said, staring at the spilled liquid. "You just gave me another discovery." He raised a finger in the air. "I must write it down." He picked up a quill from the table nearby, dipped it in ink, then began to write on a piece of paper.

"I'm sorry, Master Kazuri, but what is the discovery?" Gat Kida asked, letting her hand fall to her side, relaxing, but her tone still mixed with an apology.

When Kazuri finished, he looked over the yellowing parchment and read what he had written. "In its liquid form, lakar is not converted to energy, and it does not combust on impact." He turned to Gat Kida and smiled, hoping it would relieve the crease between her brows. He could never be angry with her, no matter what broke in his workshop, by accident or not. These experiments were more interesting for him when she was around.

"Alright then, Master Kazuri." Gat Kida's face relaxed. She bent down to pick up the shards of the broken vial on the floor—her karkan crumpled around her belly.

"You don't have to do that now," Kazuri told her. He didn't like it when she cleaned his area. He didn't want her to, but since the Kahani had forbidden all chambermaids in the palace to enter his workshop, Gat Kida was the only one available for it. "You can do it later," he said. At least he could delay it.

"But I won't be here later," Gat Kida said as she picked up broken glass. "I'm leaving for Aradack with Master Hatari today."

Kazuri blinked, surprised. He had forgotten the days. The schedule of Gat Kida's trip was today. "I see," he said, regarding her for a moment. Aradack rested on an island three days away from Kazima by ship. She would be gone for at least a week. He didn't like the idea of not having her around. "Couldn't Master Hatari go on her own?" Kazuri asked with caution, trying not to betray his true intention. "I may need you here to assist me."

"The Kahani specifically ordered me to accompany Master Hatari. I can't refuse her. I'm sure you'll be fine without me for a week or two." Gat Kida stood up with the shards on her open palm.

"What about the emissary?"

"He was sent to Zamaka for the same task."

"I've heard that Zamaka and Aradack are where you can find the best hunters and trackers."

Gat Kida nodded. "I don't mind going. And I think Master Hatari won't be necessary for this trip. I could go alone."

"No, no," Kazuri said. "You mustn't go alone." If only the Kahani would allow him to leave. He would have liked to visit the Aradacko on their island and observe their lifestyle. He'd read much about them and heard plenty about their culture from the late Master Taoro. Their way of living intrigued him. And, of course, he wouldn't mind the travel if Gat Kida accompanied him.

Gat Kida walked to a waste bucket near the work table and dropped the shards. "Oh!" She cried with a twinge.

"What is it?" Kazuri rushed to her side to see that she had cut her finger. A short line of red bloomed against her brown skin. "Tsk, come here." He took her by the wrist and led her to a water basin by the windowed wall where clean water filled the bowl.

Sometimes Kazuri injured himself during his activities in his workshop, and he had learned to care for his minor wounds. The basin had become necessary, and so did the bandages and the bottle of antiseptic solution beside the bowl.

He lifted Gat Kida's hand and washed the cut before he soaked a piece of cloth with the antiseptic and dabbed it on her finger. She winced, but he continued, wrapping a bandage over the opened flesh.

"It's alright," he said. "It's small. No need for stitches." He observed her hand—her skin had no callus, but the faint scar of a recent papercut traced her point finger. He expected as much from an Eskolar who spent most of her time with her head buried in books. But her soft, flawless palm was a sign of her Maginoo blood from her father's side.

"Master Kazuri, you must promise me that you will not try to drink this solution of lakar." Gat Kida had been quiet for the process until now. Her voice came with a little shake—something Kazuri couldn't quite read.

He sighed. "Alright. I won't," he said.

"You have to promise," Gat Kida said.

Kazuri looked up then. Her wide blazing eyes stared at his face, and he realized he was still holding her hand. Her tender skin pressed against his palm. On instinct, he released her and looked away, swallowing a bit of shame.

Gat Kida pulled her palms to her chest, wrapping one over the other. "Thank you, Master Kazuri."

Tension grew between them, and Kazuri became aware of how close they stood together. He turned his gaze back to her and noticed the hint of color that grew on her cheeks. A smile tugged his lips. "I promise," he answered.

Gat Kida nodded once. "Alright then. I'll see you when I return." She smiled, pressed her right hand over her chest, finger bandaged, and inclined her head in a bow. It had been months since she had done it, and it felt odd to Kazuri to see her that way with him, a little too formal.

"Blue skies and safe travels. May the old kings and forgotten gods guide you," Kazuri said, bowing back with the same gesture. When he returned upright, he saw an expectation in her stare as if she longed for him to say more. But he hesitated, words drowning in his chest.

Gat Kida's eyes lingered over his face, unblinking. Her shoulders rose with a deep breath, and she smiled once more. She paused as if again waiting for something, but when he still didn't say a word, she finally turned on her heel. She left him alone in his workshop, the door closing behind her.

Kazuri glared at the shut entry. You witless cloud, he cursed at himself.

.