5 - Cello

In Lebrix, I have to change trains, but not before I do something I had waited to do for years – eat a Lebrix banana. When I was eight and my dad was still around, we had gone on a family trip – the only family trip I could remember. We had taken the train from Aafta to Easrig and then from Easrig to Lebrix like I did today. It had been the farthest I had come from home and was also the first time I laid eyes on the Sand Sea.

I always found the story of the Sand Sea far-fetched, how could an entire ocean vanish in one day? Even though my grandfather had shown me newspaper clippings from back then, had told me how the trains to Lebrix were packed with people who came to see the impossible sight. I only came to believe it when I saw it with my own eyes.

There are still some warehouses and abandoned docks on the edge of the city where the desert begins. Stranger yet are the long tracks of the Waterface Train, still standing perfectly erect, waiting to send anyone who wishes into the horizon. The Waterface Train went out of business because the Sand Sea is impossible to cross even with today's technology. Businesses were severed as well as families and the Eastern continent that lies beyond the desert is said to be in great chaos. It's unclear to me why Meda supported the idea that the world starts and ends with the Western continent, but it's so easy to forget that there ever was an East.

There are fruit stalls all over the train station, I stop at one and buy a bunch of blue Lebrix bananas, a few yellow pears and a bag of roasted chestnuts. Peeling the banana, I make my way to the platform and as I wait for the train to show up, I watch the sand and eat.

The Lebrix banana is just as I remembered it to be, soft and moist with a refreshing sour taste at first that expands into blissful sweetness. They're smaller than the yellow bananas that my mother buys in Aafta, and except for the general shape, there's no resemblance. I consume three before the train arrives, but no matter how many I eat, I will never have enough of that heavenly taste.

Back then, when I was eight, I had been happily ignorant of what sort of man my father was. It's not that I thought my father was any kind of hero. He had been gone on long unexplained absences leaving my mother in tears. But I was so determined to get his approval I was willing to overlook everything else.

To anyone's eyes we were a happy family that day in Lebrix, enjoying a family trip. It was my fondest memory because my parents smiled at each other as if they finally understood one another.

They had.

After zigzagging through the stalls of the spring fair, touring through the Sand Sea Museum and eating ice cream in the famous Orbrazo's Candy Shoppe, we visited the Lebrix Court, a big beautiful building made out of marble. That was the only part of the day that had been annoying and boring. My mom pushed me into the tour for little kids so that she and my father could go off somewhere. I was furious at them, especially since the main attraction of the tour wasn't the 700 year old Court building, or the paintings of stern-looking ladies in stiff robes and wigs, nor the lovely figurines of judges we received at the end. The only thing that the other kids cared about was meeting a Jewel and his pet Alprine.

It was no surprise that I had very few friends while growing up; until this very day I find unmasked curiosity a threat. Maybe that's why I couldn't stand Fellin. His widely honest face and all that talk about where we were going made my defence mechanisms jump into action.

Years later I realised that my fondest memory of my parents was also my last. They had chosen Lebrix Court to finalise the divorce because it was fastest place to do it and while a group of kids had been gawking at me -- my parents had signed the papers.

My father was gone after that, leaving no trace of himself behind. Mum never tried to explain, I never asked what had happened. True, this, among other things, had  made me feel somewhat hollow-hearted. However, the information gap mattered less and less as I grew up. I had always been a rather fast healer – and sooner than later, there was no room for a father in my life.

The train to Rockdem would take all night. While most standard tickets could at least buy one of the hundreds of bunk-beds onboard, I chose the cheaper option. I have to conserve my money. The whole trip is pricey, and I don't have a bed and meals promised to me in Rockdem. If I can't find a position in the Zephyr right away, I'll have to come up with other means to survive.

Thus I board the last car and sit in a straight-backed chair with my knees plastered to the back of the seat in front of me. It's going to be a bone-breaking ride.  I watch as the last stragglers board the car and when no one sits next to me, I feel that perhaps my luck has changed. The doors of the train close with a buzz and the train starts moving. I allow myself to spread out a little.

A few minutes later, a shadow falls over me as someone stands before the vacant seat. I look up and watch Fellin place his backpack on the luggage rack next to mine.

Sighing, I stuff myself back onto my seat. I notice from the corner of my eye how he scans my profile and frowns, sliding into the seat but trying to keep as much to himself as he can.

I try to doze off and he keeps silent for nearly three quarters of an hour.

But then finally he breaks.

"Look, I'm sorry," he blurts out too loudly, making several of the train's passengers turn their heads to stare at him. His face visibly reddens and he sinks deeper into his seat and lowers his voice. "I'm sorry I was like that. I'd lose my temper too if I were you and had met me. It's just that meeting another Jewel made me so excited and I..." his eyes dart sideways in embarrassment, "I've always wanted to be able to talk about these things with someone."

I shrug it off, open the bag of already cold chestnuts and offer it to him.  "I'm sorry too," I say. "You can talk about whatever you like, I don't mind."

He doesn't say anything and simply takes a chestnut and peals it, making quite a mess on his lap and colouring his lips black with soot. We eat in compatible silence. We have plenty of time and neither of us is in a rush to speak. After a long moment with nothing but the rattling of the train in my ears, Fellin looks startled. "Where's your Alprine?" he asks, looking about in all directions.

"Relax," I say, patting my shirt pocket. "She's having a nap."

He eyes the mound on the front of my shirt. "Wasn't she bigger?"

"She shrinks."

Fellin laughs. "Useful trick."

"Tell me about it." I move uncomfortably in my seat. "I'd welcome being half my size right about now."

He laughs again. He's quick to laugh and quick to smile, we may have started on the wrong foot, but actually Fellin's a person who's easy to be around. "By the way, I have to ask," he says, "how'd you find an Alprine? My cousin told me that people go to crazy lengths trying to find one -- they might even try to steal yours."

"Risa isn't a thing that can be stolen," I reply knowingly. "She makes the decisions. She found me and chose me, I suppose. I was about six and thought that she was a kitten." I lift the edge of my right sleeve, revealing the bite-mark scar. "I tried to feed her meatloaf from a can and she sprung up and bit me. There's not much about Alprines in the books, but this sort of scar is called an ownership mark."

"You named her Risa?" Fellin asks. "Like Risa Medrick? The one on television?"

I blush and clear my throat, choosing to stare out the window.

Fellin attempts to keep a straight face, but then he snorts once, and twice, and finally bursts out laughing. Risa Medrick was a child prodigy, known to be the greatest singer in Meda. She was also, in my eyes, the prettiest girl in the world. However, that isn't the only thing special about her. She's a Jewel, a Black one.

The Black Jewels are rare and powerful; they're famous even outside the Zephyr. There are only twelve Black Jewels, and a new one coming of age is a serious international matter.

When I was six years old, she was eight. Back then her Jewel was just as clear as mine. I had been transfixed whenever I saw her appear on the screen, a dazzling girl who truly understood how I felt. I was certain that if we ever met, we would be the best of friends.

So the little Alprine I found that year received her name, and when I was eleven and Risa Medrick thirteen, the entertainment industry went wild over their very own diva becoming a Black Jewel. Her journey to the Zephyr – which wasn't as long as mine because she already lived in Rockdem, was a grand television event.

As the years drew by and I remained an Undefined, the enchantment that Risa Medrick held over my heart faded away.

"Well, in the Zephyr – "

"Don't say it," I interrupt. "I don't really care to meet her. I was a stupid six year old." Besides, coming anywhere near a Black would be impossible for someone like me. It makes no difference whether I see the real Risa, or the one projected on the screen, she would always remain a person so distant she might as well be imaginary.

"I named my kitten Leafa, after the lead singer of The Crimes."

"At least you won't risk the embarrassment of running into her in the Zephyr."

We chat for some time, Fellin tells me about how his father lost his job shortly after Fellin was born. It's not an easy thing being the parents of a Jewel child, and the name Quain only made things harder. I talk some about my mother, which doesn't  make it feel better or worse and Fellin is even better at listening than he is at talking. Night falls outside, and near ten o'clock, the lights in the train car are turned off. At some point, we both drift off to sleep.