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Silco rarely did anything for his birthday.
While there was a grim sort of pride in surviving another year in the Undercity, he had few to celebrate with and little desire to do so.
It was therefore unsurprising that this particular birthday dawned without ceremony. He awoke and dressed as though it were any other day; not even allowing himself the indulgence of a leisurely morning. Captured in his ornate mirror’s reflection, Silco looked no different, no wiser. The grey which streaked his hair was multiplying, but that was not the work of a single birthday—it was the mark of many long, arduous years which had ushered in very little progress for his nation of Zaun.
Silco’s boots clicked down the hallway in search of coffee strong enough to jolt the malaise from his head. There was much to be done and, as always, not enough time to do it. He couldn’t afford reduced faculties.
The aroma of coffee wafted towards him from the kitchen as he neared it, rich and pleasant. Someone, it seemed, had taken the liberty of brewing just what he sought.
Pushing open the door, Silco was greeted with an immediate and enthusiastic:
“Hiii!”
“Good morning, Jinx.” He replied. She was up early, and demonstrating remarkable pep. “How’re you feeling?”
It was worth inquiring, since she had not slept in his bed as usual. In the past year, she had seldom made it through the night alone without tears. Her prior absence, and unusually bright demeanor given the time, rang warning bells in the back of Silco’s mind.
He took a seat at the table; which he realized, upon further inspection, was decorated with two place settings, a variety of candles, and two stuffed animals. A shark and a bunny occupied the leftmost and rightmost chairs, leaving Silco’s seat and the one opposite it vacant. A cup of black coffee rested beside his left arm, as though awaiting him, and he spotted another steaming cup beside the empty seat. Odd.
“I’m great!” Jinx beamed, her face open and earnest.
She plopped down in the chair opposite Silco, completing the quartet of breakfast guests. This morning she wore a pair of colorful leggings, a long sleeved shirt, and a loose vest-like garment. With her hair in haphazard braids, the effect was both endearing and clownlike.
“Oh really?” Silco raised an eyebrow. It was good to hear, but a bit surprising. “Is there any particular reason?”
“It’s a very special day!” She replied, staring at him across the table with her very round blue eyes. “And I’m happy!”
Jinx took a sip from her mug of coffee and made a disgusted face.
“Oh ewww,” she gagged.
Shoving aside the mug, Jinx trotted to the refrigerator; no doubt in search of something sweeter.
“Care to elaborate, darling?” Silco inquired over top of his own mug. The coffee was exceedingly strong, but that was to his liking.
“Yeah, one sec!” She called from half within the fridge.
Jinx returned with a glass of juice so full it was nearly sloshing. She set it carefully on the table, then scooted to the counter, grabbing something from atop it. She held whatever it was behind her back as she approached Silco’s seat. Suddenly, she looked a bit sheepish.
“Sevika said you weren’t so big on your birthday, and I dunno if this is better, but…”
Jinx shrugged and handed him a square piece of paper. It was a card—and, judging by the colorful crayon words scrawled across the top, she’d made it herself.
He read the card’s bold pink lettering aloud: “Happy Silco Day.”
Jinx smiled hopefully, crossing and uncrossing her ankles, putting herself off balance.
“I…I hope you like it.”
Realization dawned upon him. The table, the coffee, her presence in the brief window before work seized his day away. It was a birthday gift. A warmth both tender and painful spread through Silco’s chest.
“I do.” He affirmed, his voice softer than was typical.
On the card was drawn a stick figure with mismatched eyes, wearing a crown, surrounded by gifts and flowers.
“Is that intended to be me?” He indicated the celebratory man on the card. Perhaps the wording was a bit harsh, but Jinx didn’t seem to take offense.
“Mmhmm!” She nodded, beaming that he seemed to like her surprise. “Flip it over!”
Silco complied, and was greeted by another section of crayon lettering.
I know you’re super busy with work all day, so please come to the rooftop at 9 (at night) when you’re done. I have a surprise for you!
Love, Jinx
His gaze lingered atop the bright blue word: love. Jinx had never said it aloud before, not to him. This was hardly a true declaration—more of a birthday card convention than anything else—but it took Silco a moment to tear himself away from that one word.
“I like it very much, Jinx.” He murmured.
Setting the card carefully atop the table beside his mug of coffee (which was accompanied by four spoons, for some reason), Silco looked up into her grinning face. Jinx looked ready to explode.
With a few little hops of happiness, she bounced back to her seat. It was remarkable: the joy that had split her face nearly in two was because he liked her card, nothing more.
That day, throughout the hours of stifling meetings he conducted, Jinx’s birthday card remained tucked in Silco’s inner pocket.
* * *
When the clock tolled 8:30, he pushed back from the oval table currently surrounded by the Undercity’s most prominent Chem-Barons. They had not made particularly impressive progress in the past two hours, mainly due to personality differences and a commonly held aversion to compromise.
“We aren’t finished,” snapped Margot, shifting her irritated pink stare from Smeech to Silco.
“Yes.” He stood, sliding the chair into its original place. “We are.”
Renni opened her mouth to object as well—the first thing she and Margot had agreed upon all evening—but Silco afforded her no such opportunity.
“There’s nothing more to discuss. I suggest that each and every one of you return home and consider your devotion to this cause. You behaved like sniveling children, not the leaders the independent nation of Zaun will require.”
Margo looked apoplectic.
“Now, if you’ll excuse me,” Silco said in a dry tone that required no such excusing. “I have plans more worthy of my time.”
For emphasis, and a smidgeon of personal satisfaction, he let the door slam on the way out.
Jinx, as promised by her card, was waiting on the rooftop when Silco arrived. Her little form was bundled up at the roof’s edge, gazing out at the yellow and green chemtech lights scattered across the city. She turned, hopping to her feet as Silco called her name, not wanting to startle her by approaching silently.
“Silco!” She cried, rushing to hug him. Her arms clasped tightly around his waist. “You came! I mean, I knew you would, but I’m so glad. I worried that—nevermind.”
She released him, stepping back with a giddy smile.
“Are you ready for your bir— I mean, your Silco Day surprise?”
“I am indeed.” Silco replied with a smile. Her cheerful demeanor was a pleasant counterpart to the Barons.
“Yay! Okay, come sit riiiiiight here!”
She led him to a spot at the edge of the roof, which was marked with a pink X in neon paint.
“I’m not going to be executed, am I?” Silco eyed the mark,
“No, silly,” Jinx laughed, plopping down beside him. Her boots, which hung beside Silco’s shins, looked too large for her feet. Though Jinx’s pale cheeks were round, made more so when she smiled, her legs were scrawny, like those of a baby deer.
She pulled from her pocket a clunky looking remote. It had a single large button, which had been scribbled blue with a marker, and a rather ragged looking antenna.
“Please work,” whispered Jinx, not to Silco, but to the object in her hands. She took a deep, steadying breath, and pushed the button.
Nothing happened.
Silco watched as she popped the back off, fiddled with several tangled bits of wire, and snapped the remote closed again with a click. Jinx closed her eyes and pushed the button hard, peeking with one eye to see if anything had happened.
It had not.
Jinx sighed, shoulders slumping. He saw a familiar look of self-flagellating defeat cloud her eyes as she gazed down at the inert remote.
“Darling,” Silco murmured, laying a gentle hand on her shoulder, “while I am certain that whatever you planned was glorious, I’m not disappointed. It’s a beautiful night—why don’t we sit and watch the lights together, hmm?”
“No!” Jinx whined, wiping furiously at the tears of frustration that had formed in her eyes. Silco knew she hated crying in such circumstances, but was unable to stop herself. “No, it’s gonna work. It is!”
She jumped upright, walking anxiously back and forth along the edge of the roof as she tinkered with the remote.
Silco got to his feet as well, gently pulling Jinx back a few feet so that her pacing was further from the precipice. The shingles on the edge, haphazardly nailed in place, were treacherous; and a fall from that height would prove fatal for individuals far hardier than his Jinx.
He let her puzzle over the item, shoulders hunched, angry little sniffs coming from beneath her blue hair. In a few moments, minutes at most, she would give up. He would beckon her into his arms, and they would sit in the noxious glow of the Undercity until it was time for bed. It would, without a doubt, be the best birthday Silco had had in a long time.
But then, to his surprise, there was a peculiar clicking noise from the remote—like something sliding into place at last. Jinx whirled around, beaming despite her tearfilled eyes.
A moment later there issued a booming report so loud it practically shook Silco’s bones. His eyes widened as the sky itself went up in rainbow flames. Erupting high in the air all around them, filling the quotidian gloom, were fireworks.
“My god, Jinx.” Silco exhaled.
It was utterly breathtaking, an array of colors and shapes he’d never seen in such vivid ferocity.
Jinx was jumping up and down, squealing and clapping her hands.
“It worked! It worked! I did it! Look!”
As if he could have missed the neon sparkles crackling and blazing overhead, ripping Zaun’s darkness apart. The incandescence bathed her face and sent dappling colors across her hair—blue mingled with green and pink and red and yellow and orange.
Silco was in awe. His ever-faithful retorts failed him, hushed by the sheer spectacle Jinx had managed to perform. For him. All he could do was stare, his bad eye shining in the light of a thousand colorful stars that rained down as if from the heavens.
Jinx ran to Silco, out of breath from her leaping and hopping, and threw her arms around him.
“Do you like it?” She shouted, smiling ear to ear as booming explosions practically shook them from the rooftop.
“It’s remarkable, truly remarkable.” Silco did not raise his voice, so perhaps she could not hear him. Regardless, Jinx could sense his sentiment and hugged him tighter still.
One of Silco’s hands came to rest in the middle of Jinx’s back, holding her close as her miraculous creations rained down fire from above. She was wiggly, unable to hold still from the joy and relief and pride racing through her.
Silco was not exaggerating when he called the fireworks remarkable. The praise was not a platitude uttered to soothe a disappointed child. Not only was this the single most thoughtful gift Silco had ever received, it was an exceedingly impressive feat of pyrotechnics. Especially for a girl who was barely twelve years old; and who had never, to his knowledge, attended a single day of school.
Fanciful images raced through Silco’s head: the might of these dazzling neon fireworks turned savage. Perhaps, when the time came for Zaun to assert its independence once and for all, there would be a special place for Jinx by his side.
But that was unimportant, at least for now; a mere musing in the face of true majesty.
Silco hugged Jinx close as the flaming, rainbow sky erupted all around them. She pressed her face into his torso, holding on with a ferocity that suggested she never wanted to let go again.
“Happy Silco day,” she whispered, the words lost amidst apocalyptic booms and sizzles.
Silco cradled the back of her head, fingers intertwining with her messy braid.
“Thank you, Jinx.” He replied, finding all words inadequate. “There is no one I would rather share it with.”
As the spectacle reached its finale, one last brilliancy before death, their forms were silhouetted against the sparkling sky:
A slender, severe-looking man and a little girl, standing entranced atop the Undercity’s jagged roofline.