Oriana's Eyes by Celeste Simone Page A

part-blood in greeting, I’m awkwardly drawn to Dorian’s side, not sure where I belong among these new people. I wish to contact his arm and feel the warmth of his skin. I begin to realize that he is from this completely different world and just as much a stranger as the others. Instead I hover, one hand extended noncommittally from my side.
    The tall part-blood’s attention turns to me, and I fear I will be trapped in his gaze. But his look is comforting, and he regards me with compassion, something that will take a while to get used to.
    “So this is the Winglet.” He takes my hesitating hand into his darker one. It is warm like his eyes. Looking deeply into mine he kisses it. I pull it, as politely as possible, away and gain the courage to reach out and take Dorian’s. A heat rises in my cheeks as I study the ground.
    I smile and venture, “My name is Oriana; what might yours be?” meeting his eyes once my face cools.
    “She speaks! Oriana? Yes I know, but until now I didn’t realize how well it suits you. I am Tor.” I have never met a part-blood like Tor before. He is so alive and confident in his skin.
    I’m not sure what he means, but I smile at him, hoping he will accept it as my own attempt at friendship.
    I see him give a wink to Dorian before addressing the entire group. “I suppose we should hurry home, before the dark settles.”
    There is a murmur of agreement as the young boy goes to assist Azura to her feet, the red-haired man already beside her and helping as well. The small girl makes her way to where Dorian and I are standing. She has large black eyes and wavy dark brown hair, not quite black.
    I have never seen a part-blood Finlet before; in fact, I only once saw a pureblood Finlet, a young girl somehow lost in the Winglet playground. Our elementary schools contained both races, with only a thin barrier between us. Her skin was a deep shade of tan, and she had flowing, silky black hair and eyes that were as black as their pupils. I remember how she was teased, her hair pulled with distaste for something the children had never seen before. The poor girl was in tears before an Odonian had corrected things.
    The girl before me resembles her in many ways but cannot be pureblood. The lighter aspects of Winglets have leaked out into her hair and skin, although her eyes could not be any darker. I am hoping my stare does not show judgment. She dares a glance in my direction before addressing Dorian.
    “It is amazing what you did. I have to admit, I was worried you wouldn’t make it.” The girl smiles. I can tell she is much younger and wonder how she is not at the University, sitting in class. Then I realize I am absent as well; it’s a strange feeling, knowing that everything there is continuing as always.
    Has anyone asked where I am? Do they worry what has happened to me? Or do they act the same way they always have when someone disappears suddenly? I’ve never reacted when someone went missing. I can only remember being thankful it was not me.
    Dorian gives a modest smile. “Anyone could have done it, if they spent as much time as I have. I only wish Azura could have been rescued sooner. It did make saving Oriana easier.” He steps aside, forcing the young girl and me to face each other. I gaze at her blankly, as if she were a wild animal. “Oriana, this is Malise. She is a friend of mine.”
    I smile immediately, determined to make a good first impression. She looks sideways at me, as if I were a new species as well. “Nice to meet you,” I interject. Malise nods in response and then hurries to catch up with Tor and the others who have already begun down the gradual slope, further into the forest. Watching them leave I feel pressure on the small of my back and realize Dorian remains beside me. I look up at him questioningly.
    “Malise doesn’t see many purebloods,” Dorian explains, probably noticing my look of dismay.
    “But how …,” I begin. Wasn’t Malise born and sent to