A Wish on the Fountain

Many different people roamed around the lake. Some — bold or desperate, Dorian couldn’t tell — even waded into the shallow ends, picking up the floating blooms. Some spoke to them, though that was rare. Most people looked solemn.

“This is nonsense,” Sable sighed next to him. For once, her voice didn’t sound rehearsed. Dorian personally thought it made little difference when she sounded so displeased instead. In their time together, he’d gotten used to her, and he could say they were friends. But Sable had always been, and was likely to continue being, that friend that didn’t quite belong in the same circle with him. Their circles merely brushed along the edges. He supposed that was only natural, given their circumstance.

“You sound so sceptic,” he told her as he kept observing people. Most were Lopilu, just as he had expected, and some of them looked comfortable here. He noted that a certain amount of people — those with short, green fur, and vibrant flowers woven into their clothes and hair — didn’t seem like they’d come there with any purpose. No, they seemed at home, and more like they were going out for a picnic or a work break, rather than having come to make a wish.

“Come now, Dorian,” Sable said next to him, “You can’t really believe this.”

“Why not?” He asked in turn. “I mean, we got here by what means? Would everything be stranger if wishing upon this lake worked?”

Unlike Sable, he wasn’t so disillusioned. She liked to see the truth. Or, more than truth, she liked to see hard facts. He knew this, and he wasn’t surprised by her disbelief. He was a little surprised she’d even agreed to come, though he supposed that she was driven by the same clinical determination that drove her during everything she did. He knew that Sable wanted to know about this, to see it for herself, even though she disagreed with the very notion of wishes coming true.

Dorian didn’t share her sentiment.

Sure, the lake was large, and some of the parts were covered with pale, even gravel. Even though it didn’t look unnatural or out of place, it was obvious this was meant for tourists. Strangers who came by only on occasion, hoping to have easy access to a miraculous fountain of… well, not youth. Life, maybe.

“I’m just wondering about the specifics,” Sable said, voice still disinterested. Dorian had been focused on the blooms gently bobbing on the surface of crystal clear water, their pink petals reflecting upon the surface. When he turned towards her, it was to find her watching the very same thing. “You wish for a companion and someone what… births them? Or do they already exist and some cosmic force puts you together? It’s all very well-advertised, for sure, but the logic behind it…”

“You’re always so focused on the logic,” Dorian interrupted gently, “But I think there are things that are, right now, beyond our understanding, and sometimes we can only experience them.”

Sable looked pensive for a few long moments, before nodding.

“Even so,” she said finally, “I don’t know what I’d wish for.”

“I don’t know either,” Dorian admitted. “I mean— I don’t know how. I wouldn’t be… Hm. Let me think about this.”

How did one wish upon this fountain of creation? As they walked along the edges of the lake, Dorian heard people murmuring, people speaking softly and those speaking loudly, some even laughing — some spoke tales of adventures, some of devotion. But most people didn’t say anything. They stood there, earnest, as though they were preoccupied with a thing outside of Dorian’s understanding. If they spoke anything to themselves, he couldn’t know.

“I think it’s a little abstract,” he admitted in the end. “Illogical, so you know you wouldn't like it. But I think you just need to be honest.”

Sable remained silent for a while.

“I think you’re right,” she said in the end. “I think I’ll go back. I’ll wait right by the entry trail, okay? If you want a moment.”

“Sure,” Dorian said and didn’t turn around to see her go.

I wish for understanding, he thought. He didn’t feel different. Maybe lighter, but only because he’d been able to admit this to himself. If nothing came out of this, he wouldn’t be disappointed. He felt content just to be there.