Baalit's family was among the few who lived in the creative quarter, right next to their creative zone. Eshmun, of Punic origin, and Elisa, of Phoenician descent, had been classmates since their fifth school year. Both their inclination and talent were the same. They started as classmates, then became friends, and later creative partners before they became a couple. Both were passionate about landscape painting. The family only came home to sleep. It was more practical to set up their home here.

  Baalit grew up in this environment. Not only the family and the mentor circle but also his parents' creative circle and the occasional strangers who wandered in, were part of his life, his daily existence.

  The cobblestone road led straight to the house at the end of the creative zone, behind two cedar trees. Their house, a two-story stone building with a flat roof, painted white, and a terrace on the top floor, stood in stark contrast to the grandeur of the creative zone with its small, high windows.

  The creative zone was located on both sides of the cobblestone road. Eshmun's was on the left, Elisa's on the right. These were covered but open on three sides with a single stone wall. In Eshmun's space, there was a fresco depicting a still life of grapes on the whitewashed stone wall. Elisa's space had a fresco of a winged sun disc on the single stone wall. Both sides had ornate mosaic floors. In Eshmun's space, the pattern depicted a winged sun disc. In Elisa's, the mosaics formed a still life of grapes and grape leaves. The supporting columns were made of cedar wood, decorated with carved grape leaves on both sides.

  Fabia felt at home in this environment, even though neither her inclination nor talent was in landscape painting. Septimus, the first founder of the landscape painter's creative circle, was one of Fabia's distant ancestors. The first part of their Roman-style house's peristyle still contained this original landscape painter's space. After Septimus' death, no successor had the exact inclination or talent for landscape painting, but the descendants preserved this space untouched. Back then, all creative circles functioned next to residential houses, and the creative quarter didn't yet exist separately.

  Inheritance was unknown even in the days of Septimus. The transformer expanded houses as needed and according to demand. The living space was always for the entire family, for those who lived there.

  Baalit's place always reminded her that once upon a time, exactly such a creative circle had existed in their house too. Although they didn't have to decide for another two years after both had passed through their subordination period, Fabia already knew that she wanted to live here, near the creative quarter, close to Eshmun and Elisa's painting circle.

  Of course, Eshmun and Elisa's parents and siblings didn't live here. After their subordination period, they decided they wanted to live next to their creative circle, so they founded a new house. They became creative partners and friends sooner than they became a couple, and their creative circle existed earlier as well.

  After their subordination period, the transformer quickly built a Punic and Phoenician-style house next to the painter's circle. Although it wasn't often the case, couples could even decide to establish a new house. Eshmun and Elisa's decision was an exception. They could still return to either of their parents' houses at any time. They never committed to any one house, to any one tradition. The houses always belonged to those family members who lived in it, just like in Septimus' time.

  "Of course, maybe Baalit, Eshmun, and Elisa think differently. They might prefer if Baalit came to live with us after our subordination period. And they could return to one of their parents' houses," she mused softly. "We'll decide in two years. I'd like to live here, by the painter's circle."

  It was as though Fabia had come to life. She gained color, emphasis, and form. Her unruly, long, dark brown hair, tied with a gold clasp, curled more beautifully, and wherever she looked, her hazel eyes retained their friendly, open, and joyful sparkle. Her full, shapely lips often curled into a smile. At times, a blush spread across her pale skin. Fabia bloomed in this environment.

  Those who were with her in this environment absorbed the charming sense of harmony from her.

  Baalit noticed the girl more in this setting. At first, he tried to approach Fabia as a friend, accompanying her to the library a few times because he desperately wanted to find out why he kept seeing Sophia, Rhys, Aisling, and Fionn together more and more often. Fabia was happy with this new friendship. She knew that Baalit's parents had a painting circle, a landscape painter's circle, so she invited him to visit their house with his parents and see Septimus' old creative circle. They then invited Fabia and her family to visit them in return. It was there that Baalit realized he liked the girl. Since then, they had become a couple.

  Fabia came here every day, and she belonged to the creative circle as well.

  Now, she let go of Baalit's hand and hurried straight to greet Eshmun. By the time the others reached the creative space, she had already flown over to Elisa, who was showing a guest the finer tricks of color mixing. The guest wanted to paint a landscape with very pale colors, but still full of life. Elisa was always on the move. She explained, demonstrated, taught, and painted. That was why people often first noticed the delicate snake tattoo that wound around her slender wrist. Of course, there was also a tattoo on her ankle, sometimes visible under her long, purple tunic.

  Eshmun's space, as usual, was filled with the younger years' friendly and mentor circles. They were almost children. They had claimed Eshmun as their own because, while painting, he always hummed, and quite beautifully too. Today, there wasn't much space left in Eshmun's creative space. Baalit's father sat behind a large canvas, painting, and still softly singing.

  "Hey!" Baalit casually greeted his father.

  Until now, only the edge of Eshmun's sandal and brown cloak had been visible behind the canvas, but now he poked his head out. It was a serious yet comical sight, as his face and forehead were smeared with paint. His robust build and shoulder-length, tousled hair reminded one of the fierce figures from old fairy tales and ancient history books, but Eshmun wasn't fierce. No one was.

  "Hey!" he greeted back cheerfully.

  He squinted his amber eyes, narrowing them under his long, dark eyelashes.

  "Aisling, you've lost weight. You should try Phylis' salad."

  Eshmun saw the box in his son's hand and knew that the visitors had already eaten. He steered the conversation toward food, as he always made sure that the young people and children spending time there had a proper meal, whether lunch or a snack.

  "We've already eaten, but we'll try tomorrow," the girl apologized, not offended by Eshmun's comment.

  Baalit brought the box closer and opened it.

  "Star rolls. They'll go perfectly with my grandmother's salad," he suggested.

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  Phylis, Baalit's grandmother of Punic origin, was also passionate about cooking, and she visited several cooking circles in the creative quarter every week. She was a good friend of Ulf.

  "Great!" Eshmun responded. "We'll ask the holos for more star rolls and salad."

  Baalit left the box with his father but didn't sit down there. They moved over to Elisa's space. The older ones always smiled and kindly gave way to the younger ones, especially when they felt so comfortable next to Eshmun. They sat near Fabia, each next to an easel. Next to the easels, there were various-sized canvases standing upright side by side, sorted by size.

  A few of the visitors looked up and gazed lovingly across to Eshmun, where children were nibbling on snacks. Eshmun appeared happy and content.

  Before selecting a canvas, Aisling closed her eyes. The tension and anticipation in the air suddenly became palpable. In her mind's eye, a landscape slowly took shape. She saw the river winding through the valley, the small hill in the twilight light that hid the bridge and the young oak tree. She felt someone quietly watching her.

  She quickly opened her eyes. It was Fionn.

  Fionn stood beside her, studying her. His delicate features, which at other times seemed almost cool and unreadable, were now openly ruled by curiosity. His thick, finely arched eyebrows were slightly raised, and with his lips drawn together, almost formed a perfect question mark. That was Aisling's thought.

  Yet Fionn wasn't about to ask a question. The boy had meant to paint the summer poppy field, with the darker outlines of trees in the distance and a river, all in quick, simple, rough strokes. He would have started painting, had he not glanced at Aisling. Aisling sat there, her long lashes lowered, and looked as if...

  Fionn searched for the right comparison to express the feeling, the mood that the sight of her stirred in him. He had never felt this way before. There was something familiar in it, something unknown, melancholic, and beautiful. Like the mood that lingers after a masterpiece of a song ends. The whole of it. That's exactly how he had been feeling lately. He experienced extremes all at once, presence and loss. It was beautiful and painful at the same time.

  "Oh, that song."

  He now found it strange himself that he couldn't get that old song he had heard last night out of his head all day.

  Earlier that day, before looking for the girl, precisely at 3:07 p.m., he had gone to Hermana. He had a pendant made for Aisling, with an oak motif. He chose the same material and technique as Daphne's bracelet had been made with.

  He had meant to give it to her later, but now he felt compelled to move closer to the girl. And what better excuse than to give her the pendant?

  Even in the morning, while he was having it made, he had honestly admitted to himself that he would like to see the girl's emotions, her mood. Especially when she seemed so out of time.

  "This is one of those moments," he recognized, and even slightly raised his eyebrows.

  At that moment, Aisling looked at him.

  "I made this for you," the boy said, opening his palm.

  The pendant's stable, light blue tones began to swirl, and pale purple shades appeared as well. Aisling had often seen those colors in Daphne's bracelet. Also at times when she wanted to bring someone joy. They were the colors of loving anticipation.

  "And the colors of the sunset," she thought.

  She now found it strange herself that she couldn't get that landscape and sunset out of her head all day.

  Mirael turned around. In the dim light, only the outline of the man was visible. He looked once more toward the valley, then turned firmly toward the door.

  "I brought this for you," the man said, opening his palm.

  It was the symbol.

  "Thank you," said Mirael, astonished.

  "You're welcome," replied Fionn.

  Aisling took the pendant.

  "She's very happy about it," thought Fionn when he saw the pendant in the girl's hand turn into the pure violet of joy. Then it shifted to fiery red. Then fear blended into it.

  "Aisling's emotions. It's good to see them," Fionn thought with satisfaction.

  "Mirael's emotions," thought Aisling. That love could be felt with such elemental force, she had never imagined before.

  She turned the pendant over curiously.

  "You chose a beautiful pattern," she remarked.

  The burning red and brownish hues disappeared. Only the pure violet of joy remained.

  And once again, she was alone with her thoughts. Fionn returned contentedly to his own easel to paint the summer poppy field. Now he was the one who didn't look up, though Fionn often glanced at her happily.

  "I don't want to paint THAT twilight," she decided. Even though she only knew fragments of that day.

  In the end, she decided to paint an oak tree. Then somehow, the bridge and the river found their way into it. Of course, the sunset too. Meanwhile, her thoughts swirled around countless questions.

  Who attacked them and why? What happened to Kaelen? What happened to Xewith? And who took him away injured that day, and where to?

  The Alliance had broken apart. To Aisling, that meant that back then, in that foreign time, one of them had died.

  "But which time is truly ours?" she wondered.

  Even Elisa stopped to admire the painting.

  Fionn had finished the poppy field painting much earlier and had gone over to chat and snack with Eshmun. He had just returned. Since giving the pendant to Aisling, he had been in an indescribably good mood.

  "Shall we trade?" he asked unexpectedly.

  "Why not, it'll look good on the wall next to my desk," Aisling agreed at once.

  Fionn's painting had turned out beautifully. The girl was glad she wouldn't have to take her own picture home and be reminded of THAT day every time she looked at it. Of course, she could have left it with Eshmun and Elisa, but now that the school period was nearing its end, she was collecting every memory. Every day she took something home that would remind her of these days and her friends.

  "I think we should go home before going to the library, to drop off the painting and the pot. The pot from which something will become," he joked, once again emphasizing the word something suspiciously.

  Fionn's good mood quickly rubbed off on Aisling. The girl even laughed as she imagined what suspicious kind of plant the boy might grow.

  "Great idea, let's meet at the library in half an hour," she suggested.

  But first, they went to see what kind of landscapes Baalith and Fabia had painted. Baalith's painting was already finished too, a reed bed full of wild birds. Fabia had painted a lake in front of a pine forest. Baalith was just trying to convince the girl to paint at least one kind of wild bird into the lake.

  Then they quickly said goodbye to Eshmun and Elisa.

  "In front of the library, in half an hour," Fionn said at the holo-gate.

  She only nodded before disappearing into the pink and gold flickering light.