Dear Ms Lady Demigod: Twelve Days To Doom [EDITING]

0 2 Would You Heal Me?

Meeting Ariel was a shelter from the rain of loneliness, it was a soothing rescue from the pains she didn't know existed in her dried heart. Dampness. A Mediterranean dampness. That's what he was. Rich in colour, life and mind. He was well-read, thus arrogant. Or perhaps he was arrogant because he wasn't well-read at all. Red at the heels, white on the nose, every protrusion, every edge of his body was smoothened by a strange redness, almost as if it had brushed against a warm, damp cloud. She was cold and dry, he was warm, moist and life-giving. All engulfing, ever-present and ever-approaching. He was young like Jevelene, with no hair on his face, no girth of shoulders and thin legs, he looked as if he were a maiden himself if it were not for his trousers. His long, brown mane stopped shortly at his neck, where his hair gracefully turned golden as it touched his bare skin. 

"Ariel? That's an absurd name," He crossed his arms and smiled, "Perhaps, I could done it for a while,"
She laughed, "Certainly,"
He looked at her for a while, then looked away, staring in a distance, as if looking for something, "Say, madam," He looked back at her, "Where do you live?" 
"Just about the brook, on that mansion there. Oh! I forgot! Mother's rose tea!" She quickly took the water inside her bucket and ran back to her mansion, "Goodbye, Ariel!" 

Ariel watched her go and smiled at her. He turned towards the brook and looked at the market far away. Jevelene reached her kitchen and kept the bucket down, only to find that all of it had turned to warm, delicious rose tea. She couldn't believe her eyes. She served it to her mother and ran back to the brook, it must be him, she wondered. But how could he do that? Was he a magician? A sage? A nymph?

When she went to her garden that evening, she was still thinking about him. With the gems around his eyes, he must have had quite a wealthy master, he had golden bracelets on his arms. And he doned fine silk. She wondered if she would ever see him again. The next day, she saw him at the brook again, he seemed to be waiting for her, reading a pamphlet while resting against on the wilderness. She walked up to him and looked at her, "Jevelene," He got up.

"You are here again?" She asked, "Tell me honestly, you turned my water to tea yesterday?"
"I? Not at all,"
"Well, if not you then...who could it be?" She asked him.
"Perhaps, you have a fairy godmother," He smiled at her. 

She laughed as she leaned towards the brook and poured the water into her bucket. He moved towards her, "My master has been quite upset at me," He said. She looked at him, "Why so?"
"I run away. But I like to be the master of my own will when I know he can't be my master. In my dreams, Jevelene, I'm freer than all," He pressed his hand on his stomach, "And hungry too,"

She smiled, "I have leftover bread from last night in my pantry. I could get you some,"
"With tea?" He smiled.
"With tea and honey,"

He walked beside her, "Say, aren't you... afraid of a stranger like myself?"
She looked at her visage, his eyes were brighter than all the gems around them, they held a godly faith--Green like the charm of a forest spirit. 
"Why should I be afraid? Fears don't know my weakness," She walked before her, "If I met you before when my father was still alive, I would've been afraid of you...For then I had something to lose," She kept her bucket outside the pantry and opened the door, "Now, you can't take anything away from me, I have nothing worth of value, Ariel," She turned back and smiled at him. 

He looked at her, pressing the weight of his body over her door, looking at the little glow in her eyes. The white daisies behind them sprawled on the European landscape and swindled around the salty breeze. She put a kettle on the fire and cut the bread on a plate with honey and orange jam. She poured tea into a Chinese porcelain cup with her delicate fingers and smiled at him as he sat at the table, looking at his meal. She quickly poured the leftover tea into another cup, "I will be back once I give this to my mother,"