It was her age that struck him first. She looked very young. Barely older than him. Her face was soft with perfect skin, small features, and stark beauty. Her hair was white but not so white it looked like snow. More like it had been sun-bleached for a thousand years. Maybe it had? Even her eyebrows were bleached off-white. Last were her eyes. Nixon had the most surreal and unnatural eyes any man could ever see, with their red-shimmering centers floating in a sea of the deepest black. If there was a bizarre eye contest, Aryu knew Crystal Kokuou would have come in second. The whites were as white as any other normal person, perhaps too much so, but her eyes themselves were an odd shade of dusty, faded pink, and the black of the pupil seemed horribly out of place. She was wearing a thin, knee-length silver dress that blew in the wind as if it was made of nothing at all. Her arms and legs had the same perfect-yet-imperfect look as her face, like her skin had never seen the sun from the day she was born. Her body was youthful, seeming to confirm that she was no older than she looked. She wore no shoes of any kind, her feet bare and standing out against the grass and dirt beneath her.
He knew right away she was beautiful but very different from others he'd met. Not different like Nixon, whose aura of power was unmistakable. Different like himself, being perfectly human save for one design flaw. His was wings; hers was her look and tone. She was certainly human but unsettling and astonishing at the same time.
Crystal took Nixon’s hand, bowing deeply as she shook it. Nixon returned the bow, followed by motioning to Aryu to follow suit. Aryu obliged, taking the svelte girl’s hand and bowing as he did so, never fully taking his eyes off her. Her hand was as soft as it looked, completely devoid of any natural imperfections save for what may have been faint freckles once upon a time.
“Nixon of the Great Fire and Ash. Welcome back to my home,” she said as she rose from her greeting and released Aryu’s hand.
“Crystal Kokuou, keeper of the Dragon Spirit. I am 'onored t’ be back.” He gestured to Aryu. “Aryu O'Lung'Singh, of the village of Tan Torna Qu-ay.”
“And reigning Ryuujin of the People I see, though without any command of the Power…yet.” In the one statement she recognized the user, the weapon, the circumstances, and the situation each of them was currently in. A perfect statement, without being rude or confusing.
Nixon was also not oblivious to the notion and nodded. “Well, that remains t’ be seen, but he's not dead.”
“No, he's not dead. But I feel that his heart is.”
Aryu was nearly immobilized by this small girl and her amazing ability to train his eye only on her. Her words slipped off him like water as he stood there. He heard them but had no response.
Nixon seemed nonplussed by Aryu’s reaction. He'd seen it before when someone met her for the first time. “He recently lost much that was dear to him. Do ya feel this pain?”
“I still can't read people like Sho can, but his pain is deep and hard to hide. Perk up, kid. This isn't meant to be a place of sadness.”
The statement brought Aryu out of his self-induced hypnotization. “I'm sorry?” he managed.
She had called him kid?
“My home,” she continued. “I didn't create it to have visitors moping about. It'd spoil the mood. The vibe I’m going for. I can see your pain is great, but don't worry. We'll see if we can snap you out of this funk. Nixon, what kind of party pooper did you bring here?”
Aryu could only smirk and look at Nixon. Her attitude was just as unnerving as the rest of her. Although she had a look of a pixie, she clearly had the vitality of something a little more worldly.
Johan, he thought at once, she sounds like Johan.
Crystal gave an impish grin as the two men exchanged glances. “Oh, don't look like that, Aryu, which is a fantastic name by the way! He's as much of a downer as anyone I've ever met.”
Funk? Pooper? Downer? Who was this person?
“Forgive me, please, but I can't fully understand what you mean.”
“Your friend here,” a hand thrust at Nixon like an accuser of a criminal, “only seems to show up whenever bad stuff happens. It's terrible. Frankly, I'm not sure why I let him in here anymore.”
All secondary assumptions about Crystal vanished just as quickly as they'd come a moment earlier. One quick glimpse at Nixon told Aryu what he felt was the truth.
Crystal Kokuou, for all her apparent abilities and longevity, was a quick-witted smart ass.
Unfathomably powerful and near-godly beings should be feared, but this one was very attractive and instantly likeable in a manner he could identify with. In a heartbeat, she had gone from fearsome, ancient, mystic warrior to delicate, fragile beauty to something close to what Aryu would consider a good friend.
For the first time since he'd agreed to this trip, Aryu was glad he came. Even if she didn't offer up a single useful answer, she was instantly worth it.
Aryu and Nixon sat next to the perfect little stream to eat while Crystal wandered about. It seemed this place even had a calming effect on the phoenix. Despite the multitude of questions racing around his head, he seemed quite content to just sit.
“How’ve ya been, Crystal?” Nixon asked between bites of some kind of red fruit Aryu had never seen before. The juice
