I stare at the little ray of sunlght seeping through a small crack of the curtain made of bamboo and the elegant silk ones in front of it to make them look more elegant and protect me better from the rays of the killing sun. I feel a pearly tear on my cheek as I long for the comforting warmth of the sun. I flex my hands, my joints hurt like I am twenty years older than I am. I softly brush my fingers through my hair I pretend not to notice the think beautiful dark blue hair that falls on the ground, but I do not succeed. I feel defeated as I reminisce about the days I used to prance around on my horse, people being mesmerised by the mere look of me. The tales of my beauty and magic had spread far and wide, they'd say my long hair had magic abilities. I coldly wipe away the tear from my porcelain white face, the veins in my hands bright blue trough the unhealthy pale skin. I used to draw the on to accentuate them, now I curse the look of it. I hear some noises and somebody enters my room.

Their Clothing covers every part of their body and their veil obstructs their eyes. I know the beautiful fabric the veil is made of. I recognise my own craftsmanship, and smile faintly as he puts down the tray with food for me, all of it thoroughly cleaned and made to keep me healthy. I miss food that tastes like joy, I miss the sweet silkyness of honey. The sweet crisp of a roasted duck skin between your teeth, the heartiness of patatoes or the simple pleasure of raw fish. Now every morning I only eat carefully inspected fruits and have a cup of healing tea, every lunch I have a bowl of rice with again, a cup of healing tea and my dinner always consists of soup, with again the same tea. It feels incredibly repetitive but my body can no longer stomach anything else. I smile and nod slightly.

He puts down several buckets of pearls. "They are from the coast you requested. The number is exactly the ones you have asked for." "Thank you Haruki." "My pleasure master." He says as he bows quickly and leaves the room.

I stare at the fruit but feel no desire in eating it, although beautifully cut and presented it symbolises my hopelessness. I hardly taste them as I put them into my mouth as my mind is sunken into the sheer doubt of my own health. A rotting brain..... it sound worse than it is. Does it sound worse? I am not certain, and to be fair it is not rotting, or at least not yet. It is simply dying, while my body is not. Or well, that is what doctor say, sometimes I suspect they simply do not know so they said the most outrageous thing possible, because being honest, nobody would be brave or foolish enough to pry my head open to check. As I think I feel a warmth on my hand, I look at it, the funlight has found it's way inside. I smile as I touch it and the reflection of light softly plays with my skin slowly turning it red and painful and as the tears leave my eyes I feel the misplaced smile on my face. I tug on a short rope and the curtains close further. I take a deep breath and look at my weathered hands, wheathered from my art and my passion.

I stand up, my beautiful robe made from torquoise and white pearls silk trailing on the ground. I grab the buckets of pearls and sit down in front of an incredibly big shell that fuctions as a tiny bath. I turn on the faucet and scalding hot seawater elegantly falls into it. I put all the pearls into the shell and put my hands in the boiling water, for one second I feel the pain but I bite down and do not move my hands, you just need to....wait till your hands feel comfortable my master used to say. I smile and start to hum the same song as always as I turn off the faucet and pour a special acid into the tub. I softly hum a song that has accompnied me through my whole life. The song of the waves they call it. I smile, I am happy I can still hear the sea through the closed windows of my room. I wish I could once again feel the irritating sand between my toes, I wish I could stand on the rocks while the waves crash into it and I throw pebbles into the big potential we call ocean. I close my dark brown eyes and try to forget I have not talked to him in 8 years. What does he look like now, we were so beautiful back when we 20. We were so....happy when we were 22, we were so wise when we were 24. I feel a tear fall in the tub with pearls.

I take out the pearls and let them dry for a short moment. I look at the limited sun I can see and start dancing to the beautiful melody I am singing. Tears fill my eyes as my mind flood with memories, I simply stop and drop my arms and shoulders. I take a deep breath and realise I no longer want to live, not even for my art. I sit down and look at my hands, they hurt more than normally. I notice a part of my skin peeling off my palm, I hesitate and peel it off. It slowly comes off like a tight fitting glove. My body is attacking my body. I deny the fear in my heart as I try to forget the thing one of the physicians said. Your body will begin to attack itself, you will be able to state that your death will come soon. I do not want to die, I never wished to die, why must I die?

I feel numb as I hum and unravel the pearls into beautiful strings. The glimmer in the sun, but also in the shadow, this fabric is more beautiful than anything, more precious than artwork. The blue white and pink colours of mother f pearl it so easily reflects. I am in awe with my work as I use the spinning wheel to make thread before starting to weave the actual fabric that will be used eventually. When one of the batches is done I grab it and smell it lovingly, the smell of the sea comforts my nose and takes me back to the world before

"So, no war anymore." Faisal said as I threw pebbels into the calm sea. I nod, "What are you planning to do now?" I ask him, he knows what I will do. I was chosen by the merfolk when I was a boy, that's why I have been taught to make their precious material. The chief has taught me and the son of the chief was always present when practicing, because he was also practicing. I know so many secrets, "I don't know, I don't have a home, I don't have an occupation in peace time either." "Couldn't you help me?" I ask, he shakes his long blonde hair as chuckles as he grabs a few pebbles and throws them. "An impurity making the purest form of  art and fashion? That is a bold dream Azai." "You have always been bold faisal." "Not in these matters, I am a foreign born, if we are bold in these matters we are seen as......problems, trust me." "Well, your don't have to worry about a house, you will with me, now only the thing that will provide your money." I said. "Poet."  I look at him with a smile. "For you" He said and I couldn't help but smile.

I smile and grab something hidden under my bed. I grab the tiny book (I am not allowed to have any. If I get a papercut it won't stop bleeding), it is called melodies of the waves and it is written by faisal, my faisal.

faisal

 I wish I could see him. Sometimes I doubt he is alive, but than I sit down in front of his room and I hear his humming. I have heard he is having problems with his parents, they're arguing whether he should teach somebody new, risking his health. The merpeople have been rather private the last years, they are too timid to teach another one this early. But they have taught me too, but I am.....what I am.

I have heard rumours he no longer wants to do it. I wonder how he is doing. I hug my knees and turn on my side and try not to think that the next time I will see him is when he is a corpse. I try not to think about the fact his humming was even more insolent today, that he needed to stop every few minutes to cough. He is withering, he no longer has sunlight and with that I am losing my colours.

The sun is prying through the slithers of the curtains when it can. I do not want to wake up anymore, but I must. I know that well enough. I put on the dark blue sober robe and tightly tie the wide red waistband. I put my hair up with a hairpin with cherry blossom attached to it in an effort to look like the people I have been raised by. I look in the mirror and wonder how I have aquired this golden hair and why the people here do not have it. I smile as I remember that Azai would compare me with the sun, the way he would admire it and tell me it was a gift from the sun itself. Telling me the sun had made me, the ocean had given me eyes and the sun had kisses my skin till it was bronze to match my hair. I would tell him that I would recognise him in an ocean of soldiers, I would find his body in a pyre after a massacre if I would have to burn myself I would have, I would tell him I would kill the emperor if it meant saving him. And now I have absolutely no way of saving him. I am lying here, powerless and hopeless.

I decide I should tell them and so I walk into the main room of the mansion. I bow to his parents. "Honourable lord and lady, I must tell you something." I say in the voice I was taught in the military. "Go ahead faisel." "I have been taught how to make pearl silk. I would like to suggest I shall produce it untill the merfolk is prepared to teach another." His lordship hesitantly nods but than his wife scoffs. "An Impurity? He could not even recognise a real pearl from a fake one with his demon eyes." I look down and swallow, his mother never liked me. His brother and sister both did and his father.....tolerated me. "I assure me, your son has taught me under supervision of the merfolk. He would approve of it." "He is no longer in charge, he is foolish." She hisses. "Do not disrespect my son!" His lordship yells. "I thank you for the recomendattion noble faisal, but I am afraid I cannot make this decision on my own quite yet. You will hear from me. I thank you noble soldier." I bow and walk away knowing I am not good enough for this....... 

I sit down at his room. I patiently wait for the humming. I look at the leaves on the tree as the blossoms fall. I wonder why blossom cannot stay for the whole year. I notice the minutes slowly The tears well up in my eyes as I do not hear his humming. I wait for hours, I wait till the sun disappears slowly but surely, and I do not hear his humming. I see a doctor rushing towards the room. I close my eyes and begin to hum, the same melody but it does not feel quite the same, I cannot hit the notes in the same way, I cannot make it sound beautiful with me it only sounds.....sad.