[[[Musica ౨ৎ])]
Most of the time, when Arya would come to her house as a child, Amani’s family would speak solely in French. This was, if Amani recalled correctly, because Arya was learning French at the time. Amani’s family, being native French speakers with ancestry from Francophone nations, wanted to foster her learning. After all, what better way to help someone learn a language than to immerse them in it daily?
I’;s been a while since their fall out, that Arya and Amani got to talk, so for a split second and just for a split second, Amani had forgotten Arya knew french, it was only until she had said le moins did Amani remember that indeed, Sellenova spoke french.
“vraiment ? C’est certainement l’affirmation la plus intéressante” Amani side looking at the poems on the wall, “la plupart des gens ne qualifieraient pas votre choix de relations de classe” She continued, “cough Parravicini Russo, cough the immature Dunman,” Amani faked a cough, then switched back to English, her hand theatrically placed on her throat as she smirked. , “Excuse me, it seems I’ve developed quite the cold.” she added in English, her hand on her throat as she smirked.
Amani then asked Arya why she had written the poem and her reasoning for hanging it up. Was the poem of any particular importance? Amani listened intently to Arya’s explanation, her curiosity still piqued but now tempered with a hint of amusement. She gently traced the edges of the poem with her fingers, feeling the texture of the paper as if it could reveal some hidden truth.
Amani then inquired about the poem Arya had written, her curiosity piqued. She wanted to know why Arya had written it and why she chose to hang it on the wall. Was the poem of any significant importance? Amani listened intently to Arya’s explanation, her interest now tempered with a hint of amusement. She gently traced the edges of the poem with her fingers, feeling the texture of the paper as if it could reveal some hidden truth.
"“Well, aren’t you awfully sentimental,” Amani remarked, a smirk playing on her lips. “I suppose I could understand that, though I never knew you were one to be so sappy.” The playful glint in her eye contrasted with the depth of her words, as if she was simultaneously mocking and admiring Arya’s sentimentality, but perhaps leaning more towards the mocking. She looked over Arya’s shoulders as she read the poem, her brows for rowing slightly as she took in the lines. The poem was delicate, full of introspection and longing. It spoke of forgotten dreams and the quiet melancholy of unfulfilled desires. Amani’s smirk faded as she read, replaced by a more contemplative expression. The words seemed to resonate with something deep within her, something she wasn’t quite ready to acknowledge. "The Poem, " Amani began not knowing what to say, “Very cipher of you, almost too cipher, glad to see you kept that poetic spark of yours over the years” Amani ‘complimented.’
Amani’s laughter gradually subsided, leaving her with a lingering smile as she straightened up from the statue. She watched Arya continue walking, her brow arched with amusement. Catching up to her, Amani tilted her head slightly, her eyes gleaming with a mixture of curiosity and mischief. “Of course not, credit’s all your innit?” she conceded, her tone still playful as they continued their walk through the Botanical conservatory. Eventually, they reached an and as Amani began to whisper incantations in Latin and French, quiet enough as her words will come off as more mumbles than actual words. A door with the words ‘quattor’ eventually formed out of thin air, igniting a smile from Amani- AAAH the room of reflections, one of her favorite rooms. Using a key that her ‘creature’ had given her, Amani opened the door, welcoming the sigh of empty mirrors. She continued walking, her eyes staring at each of the mirrors, until she landed on one with Arya, looking at that particular reflection less mirror, Amani had smiled, as she continued to describe what the Eden of Enchanment truly was. When she was done, as expected, Arya was not without questions- she had asked what secrets the mirrors hold, prompting Amani to respond with, “Depends,” She had smirked, “Depends on the mirror and what you wish for it to hold. This mirror for example,” Amani gestured to the mirror in front of them, “is the mirror of desires, not as sexy as it sounds, though there is a mirror for that,” Amani chuckled, “Anyways, mirror of desires, take you to a life you’ve always imagined existing in, a life that is your current ultimate desire where you would feel most serene in.” Her gaze went towards the mirror, “It’s empty because it needs to be tapped,” Amani gently grabbed Arya’s hand and using her free hand, they had both touched the mirror, causing it to began to swirl. “Once touched, we begin to see two different things- I see my own desires place and you see yours.”
At some point, the mirror had stopped swirling, staying in one place as Amani began to see her own reflection morph and shift, subtly at first, then more pronounce. The glass rippled like the surface of a pond disturbed by a thrown stone. What unfolded before her eyes was a vision of teenage her in secondary school, laughing side by side with a person who Amani knew all to well, she had placed her head on the person’s shoulder’s as they say down together, drinking a drink- coffee for her she imagined, a type of tea perhaps black for the other person. It was relaxing, there where in their last year of secondary school and his betrayal had not happened nor did the ‘news’ happen. As they leaned close to each other their lips almost touching, they suddenly jolted apart, as the presence of another- Arya Sellenova, suddenly emerged in the vision. Arya’s entrance was marked by laughter from Amani, it was not a mocking one, but a genuine laughter as she playfully rolled her eyes, as two other people- Tae and Celestine had emerged., finding spots next to her, the group forming a circle of familiar faces, all sharing jokes and stories from their day. This glimpse into a past where their friendship had never waned, where betrayals and separations were non-existent, painted a poignant picture of what could have been.
As the scene shifted, Amani was now an adult, surrounded by her family and the same friends from her secondary school days. It was her birthday, and the laughter and warmth enveloping her were palpable. Her sister Marium came forward, her hands hiding a small, elegantly wrapped box. Unveiling a delicate necklace, she clasped it around Amani’s neck, an action met with cheers and claps from around the room. Isaac, too, was there, his arm wrapped around a woman he had met at a party; his smile was wide, his eyes sparkled with genuine happiness.
Amidst the celebration, there was him—the one whose presence Amani chose to ignore. His face was there in the crowd, smiling, participating, yet Amani’s vision cleverly skirted around him, focusing instead on the joy and the love from those who mattered more. The entire vision radiated a sense of relaxation and freedom from responsibilities, a stark contrast to her current life. The happiness was infectious, and even as the scene began to dissolve, Amani felt a warmth linger, a bittersweet reminder of a life that might have been, filled with endless possibilities and the continued presence of those she loved.
As the images in the mirror faded and Amani turned back to Arya. “What did you see?” Amani asked her voice soft as she looked at the mirror, “Ok now that that is over,do you want to check out the others. I’ll let you chose a mirror, pick one.”