Page 62 of A Winter Awakening

“I do,” Orteo said. “It’s lovely. Oh, up there.”

An oread sat on a tree branch on the edge of the forest, eyes closed, playing a wooden flute.

“Oh, I see him,” Gael said.

“I think I’ve met him once in the valley. He doesn’t live there,” Orteo said. “I don’t know where he’s from.” But he remembered the pretty oread. He’d seemed so nervous and jumpy. Like a scared animal.

The oread didn’t open his eyes; he just kept playing.

Gael and Orteo paused in front of a snow sculpture. An oread and a human made of snow faced each other, staring into each other’s eyes. The oread held out a flower in his hand. Several sculptors moved around, finishing small details.

“It says something on the plaque,” Gael said. “It says, ‘Sirian and Wrin.’” He paused. “Oh! it’s the two from the journal!”

“You’re right,” Orteo said. “The first oread and human lovers of Ores.”

Gael and Orteo stood side by side, taking in the artwork.

“Do you think we’ll stay here in Ores? We haven’t really discussed where we’ll go or where we’ll live,” Gael said. “After all, Sariah will be back at some point, and we’ll have to move out.”

“We could live in a cave,” Orteo said.

Gael gave him a look.

“I’m just kidding,” Orteo chuckled. “Honestly, I don’t mind where we live.”

Gael smiled.

“What?”

“Just thinking.” Gael leaned against him. “A month ago I ran away from my wedding, no idea where I was going or what I was doing. My life was a complete and absolute mess.” He looked up into Orteo’s eyes. “And again, I don’t know where I’m going or what I’m doing. But it doesn’t feel like a mess at all. You know why?”

“Why?” Orteo asked.

“Because I know everything will work out as long as I’m with you.”

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