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Euclase startled when a sudden drop of water hit their nose. They thumbed the moisture off and turned their gaze to the sky. Frothy cumulus clouds striated with grey floated aimlessly through an otherwise normal summers’ sky; stray beams of sunlight desperate to be known to the world below. Euclase’s eyes scanned the horizon, reading the winds and noting the slight turbulence of the sea.
With a connection quicker than Peridot to a perfect square of paper, Euclase turned on their heel and regarded the gathered throng of gems reporting their midway patrol sightings. With two claps of their hands, Euclase drew all eyes upon them.
“Everyone,” they said, “patrols will be postponed for the time being. Tumultuous rain approaches, and if we make our way back to the school now, we won’t be caught in the torrent.”
Euclase’s warning drew many quizzical stares; most exchanging glances between the now blaring sun and the bicolored gem. None heeded Euclase’s words and made a move to go. Euclase remained standing there, smile soft but urging.
After a beat of confused silence, Topaz finally piped up with, “Are you sure about that, Euc? I mean, it looks to me that everything’s fine. It’s so sunny!”
Topaz winced when they were elbowed in the side by Sphene. “Are you really going to doubt them now, Topaz?” they said. “Euc’s never been wrong about the weather before!”
Topaz huffed. “That’s not entirely true. They’ve been wrong a few times!”
“Then how long ago was their prediction off?”
“That’s easy! It’s been…” Topaz’s jaw stilled before they could even mouth a timeframe. Their lips suddenly pinched shut as they thought on the answer; counting their fingers before surmising with a sigh, “Let’s just say it’s been a long time.”
“Exactly, so”—Sphene grabbed the hook of Topaz’s arm—“let’s go.” They looked around to the other gems. “All of us. Let’s head back to the school.”
Intermittent nods followed in Sphene and Topaz’s departure as, one by one, the other gems turned and trailed behind them. Euclase saw them off; making sure all the gems crested the two hills before the school before following suit. Just as they secured their sword tighter to their person to start a run, a twist of blue in their periphery halted them in their tracks.
Approximately twelve paces away stood Lapis Lazuli; their long, long locks whipping in the oncoming wind. Euclase scrutinized them from afar. Lapis Lazuli’s distance shouldn’t have been a cause for concern; they weren’t far enough where Euclase’s words fell on distracted ears. Unless they were completely lost in thought (which was a possibility as many a time they’d found themself consumed on the battlefield), it was unlikely Lapis Lazuli hadn’t heard them.
Euclase cupped a hand over their mouth to call out to them, to warn them of the oncoming rain, but was piqued when Lapis Lazuli turned. The curious tilt of their head drew Euclase in. Euclase broke out in a small jog and cleared the distance between them, wondering as to what it was that caused Lapis Lazuli to remain.
As they slowed to a stop, Euclase said, “Did you not hear me, Lapis? I said rain is—”
“I know,” Lapis Lazuli interrupted. They gave Euclase a short, lingering glance before gazing at the sky again. “I do not doubt your meteorologic prowess, Euc. Your predictions come with an 83% accuracy. I’ve calculated that myself.”
Euclase wasn’t sure whether to be flattered or insulted by Lapis Lazuli’s words. There was always a hidden motive when it came to them; a keen amusement gleaned due to ulterior motives. However, in the churning light of the sun and swimming clouds, Lapis Lazuli’s face limned in the fluttering light, Euclase discerned something innocent on their features. A curiosity becoming of a child.
“Then why do you remain?” was the only thing Euclase managed to ask.
Lapis Lazuli closed their eyes and sighed as if their intent was obvious or they deigned to say knowing they would be misunderstood. Still, they gave Euclase a chance, explaining, “In all of the years I’ve been, not once have I experienced the rain. I’ve seen it, yes—pattering against a window from the library, thundering in the distance after patrols, but I’ve never stood in it. At least once, I want to know what it’s like.”
Euclase blinked. “That’s curious… But it should feel no different than water splashing on you, yes?”
“Who can say until I experience it?”
“But your powder—”
“It can be reapplied.”
Euclase sighed. Lapis Lazuli had always been stubborn—even when they were children. Not even Rutile’s fury for having, in their words, wasted powder for an unneeded second application could move them. Once their intentions were grounded, so were their feet.
Euclase pursed their lips. “Come now, Lapis. There really is no need to do this. Let’s head back to the school.”
“You’re free to go, Euc.” Half of Lapis Lazuli’s face was shrouded in their billowing hair caught in the winds; stray leaves and blades of grass fluttering passed due to the buffeting gale. Their eyes remained steadfast on Euclase, sparkling brilliantly in the gleaming sun. “I wish to stay.”
Euclase huffed. “I’m not leaving you.”
“Then you’re free to stay, too. I know you’re never one to leave a gem alone.”
“Lapis—!”
Euclase’s voice was drowned out come the sudden deluge. Sunlight challenged the rain; blaring blades of white piercing each minute droplet, casting refracting colors against the land brighter than any gem Euclase had ever beheld. The day was overcome by opposites, a paradox curiously only encountered thrice by Euclase.
It was as if the day wished to describe Lapis Lazuli the only way it knew how; a mass contradiction—sun and rain at once. Euclase couldn’t understand them before, and they couldn’t now; bewildered as Lapis Lazuli threw their head back and laughed, letting the rain wash over them as sun refracted blue-gold through their untamed locks.
Euclase simply stood their and watched as the rain came and went in minutes. Not even the beginnings of a rainbow in the distance could draw their attention. Their eyes remained trained on Lapis Lazuli, taking in everything: the soggy fall of their hair, the tracks of rain washing cataracts and tributaries through their powder, the absolutely gleeful smile capturing their face.
“Experience is knowledge, Euc,” Lapis Lazuli suddenly said, breaking Euclase from their trance. “What better way to know something then to live through it? To have firsthand experience of the moment. That’s why I wanted this. To know, for me, is more than enough. I crave this knowledge and all that this world has to offer. Isn’t it something for you to have earned this, too?”
Euclase had no words for them, and still wouldn’t even they were to part. It would be another wonder lodged in their inclusions, forever to remain: why should uncertainly be the cost of knowledge? Shouldn’t what they have be enough?
Euclase turned from them and began to stride away, self-conscious of their own ruined powder. “Come, let’s just go back to the school,” they said, each step marked by a frustrated shake of the head. “I’ll take the brunt of Rutile’s anger for now, but don’t do this again. Don’t make me wait longer than necessary.”