Futuristic 〄 Help me find my way––!! | (syntranator & starboobie)

[Syntra]

The edges of the world, usually so sharp, had been blurred beyond recognition, though Whisper didn’t care. How could she? How?! Her entire being, paltry as it was, was focused on a single phrase: ‘I almost fucking lost you.’ Almost. Funny, wasn’t it? Because, for those long, torturous weeks, the narrative had been that she had lost her-- that Iskra was gone, and in her place, only a parasite could be found. (Something dirty and disgusting, like a grave worm feasting on her corpse. A monster in anything but name. Had she been wrong about the princess’s perceptions, then? …the hope was small, a quiet rumble of an engine that had long since run out of fuel, but it was there, and that scared her. More than she could say.) I’m not her, though, the pirate wanted to protest. We’re too different. But, really, wouldn’t that also mean that Verity was no longer Verity? Because the recent events had twisted her as well-- transformed her into something that she hadn’t been, according to both Iskra’s diaries and herself. Were they both dead, then? An acceptable conclusion, except that the princess… well, she felt very much alive. The pulse of her heart couldn’t be silenced, especially when she was pinned beneath her. (Beneath the sheets, during those nightly escapades of theirs, she’d been even more alive. Sparks had been dancing in her eyes as she’d demanded more, more, and more, and despite everything? Whisper had been happy to give it to her. In those moments, the pirate supposed, she had seemed alive as well.) “I don’t…” the captain trailed off, practically choking on her tears. (How had she been suppressing them for so long, again? The answers eluded her, as they often did.) “No. It wasn’t fair. But it happened, and what you’re doing to me isn’t fair, either. No amount of grief will ever justify it.”

In case you were interested, then no, Whisper knew not what she expected from this. More insults, maybe? More excuses? More ridiculous arguments revolving around how she was the victim here, actually? Except that none of it ended up happening. Instead, there was a waterfall of apologies, and her combativeness melted in it. “I didn’t want you to be a princess,” the pirate sobbed, with the kind of sincerity that she’d thought lost to her. (How long had she been feeling that way? Days, or weeks, or entire centuries? The secrets of her own heart were a mystery to her, but in this very moment, Whisper knew it to be true-- knew it just as much as she knew that she needed oxygen to live.) “I just wanted you to be mine.” Of course, Whisper’s wishes interested nobody. The lady of the realm of the dead was still there, you see? And she demanded her sacrifice, just like the Holy Vessel and Seraphina and… and everybody else, really. Everyone aside from Verity, who wanted the very opposite from her. The irony was bitter, wasn’t it? Almost bitter enough to make her vomit, had her stomach been full enough for something like that.

‘The princess is stubborn,’ Iskra had written into one of her early entries, shortly before the thoughts of Verity had consumed everything else. ‘Do not override her will, otherwise that which you never want to happen will become her heart’s greatest desire. She is to be coaxed gently, and treated with care.’ And, honestly? Whisper should have taken her past self’s advice there, because what followed had been very predictable in hindsight. “By the Shade,” she murmured, watching helplessly as Verity signed her death sentence. “You are unbelievable.” Always had been, right from the moment she had looked at Iskra like that and seen, oh so easily, everything that she’d tried to conceal from the others. From herself, even. Does she really think this is going to stop me? No, you couldn’t talk a hurricane out of razing a city with a gentle song, and similarly to that, you couldn’t restrain Whisper when she set her mind on something. “Foolish princess,” the pirate said, half a chuckle and half a sob. “You have only taken one of my many, many choices away from me. I won’t let you have the rest.” Easily, she dislodged the dagger, and before Verity could so much as comment upon her actions, she was standing next to her, her sword in her hand. (Somehow, this felt… right? Like a piece of puzzle sliding into place.) “If we both die, I can at least do so by your side. And, in case we happen to survive? You better make it worth it to me. This time, I want to be treated right. I want to be courted, and have poems composed about my beauty, and, yes, be serenaded to. Do all that, and I might forgive you.”

‘Oh, how very moving,’ the monster laughed. ‘Too bad this scenario of yours will never, ever come to pass! You should pick your enemies more wisely, princess and pirate. At least one of you could have lived-- could have stayed behind to bring flowers on the other’s grave, or whatever it is that you mortals do to wrestle with your sorrow. A shame. Then again… I will love to tear you apart, limb from limb.’ Did it matter to the entity that Verity had struck her claws with her sword? It was hard to tell, for it didn’t cry out, nor did it whimper in pain. That wasn’t to say that there wasn’t any reaction at all, though. Blood began pouring from the open wounds-- so much blood, indeed, that it could have filled entire rivers, seas, oceans. Soon enough, the entire ship was drowning in it! …but, oh, that wasn’t everything. If only. The blood around them swirled, forming whirlwinds deep and wide, and when the currents splashed against the walls? The liquid assumed the shapes of Verity’s dead sisters, their faces contorted in eternal agony. “Verity!” Mercy howled, digging her nails into the princess’s shoulders. “How could you?! It is because of her that I am like this now. Why don’t you want her to pay?”

“Pay!” the chorus of their voices sang, so chilling it could freeze the hell over. “Pay, pay, pay!”

 

[starboob]

“I didn’t want you to be a princess. I just wanted you to be mine.”​

The confession shouldn't surprise Verity. It shouldn't. Since their reunion Whisper has been trying to reach the princess, has been trying to rekindle what they once had and Verity? Without fail, at each and every turn, has said, "No." Perhaps not so bluntly, but maybe had she been blunt that would have hurt the pirate less, because in many ways what she did was worse. She did what she promised Iskra they'd never do––avoid. Yes, she pushed Whisper away under the guise that she needed more Time to figure herself out and, while that would have been swell, she kept hoping that in the space and Time between pushing her ex-wife away that her real wife would come back. But she's here. She's been here and Verity has been too bitter to give Whisper a chance. (And Whisper didn't even hesitate to give the princess a chance.) She tried, of course she tried, but too many of her thoughts were stuck in a place that no longer exists. Only now is she fully accepting this. Now, when she they are about to face an entity of unknown size and power does she come to the conclusion that Whisper has always known. (The pirate has given the princess more chances than she likely deserves. Even now, as she lists out all the ways she wants to be loved, Verity is not sure what she has done to even earn the chance to love her again. She won't spit on it, however. Not when she has finally made the decision to fight for Whisper.)

She doesn't protest when the pirate unpins herself from the floor and takes the spot next her. (Even she had known that would not keep Whisper down––it only bought her more Time to make sure that the entity doesn't claim her.) Simply, she looks at Whisper as she used to look at Iskra; she looks at her as she should have been looking at Whisper this entire Time. "That and more, I promise. I... I will be yours." (Truthfully? She never really stopped being Whisper's. Had that been the case, she might have left Inure and her pirate crew behind. She still wants the pirate to hear it and she hopes she'll believe it, too. In fact, the princess will make sure she understands the truth behind her declaration.) "And I have no doubt that we shall live to see many more tomorrows––so know that I am yours, if you should wish to have me. Regardless, I will not let any harm to come to you."

When she turns back to look at the gushing mutilated hand, she becomes impenetrable and as hardened as a diamond. She positions herself just one step ahead of Whisper, sword raised to protect the both of them. As the villain talks, the princess has to withhold the impulse to roll her eyes––how many Times has she heard this very spiel before? Too many for her to even count and that should prove to their enemies that perhaps they should think twice before challenging the princess and pirate. But apparently the fools of the galaxies and other realms see the trail of corpses that lead to the princess and pirate as a challenge. "Your threats are rather wishful, beast, for every sword, spear, and claw that has risen against us has just been another chapter in our story and not an end." Is it wise to threaten this being? Most likely not, but that has never really prevented the princess from doing what she wants.

However, nothing could have prepared her to see her five dead, bloody sisters in their most gnarled states. Nothing could have prepared her for Mercy, sweet Mercy, clawing into her shoulders. Or her for her sisters' demands. (Suddenly, the sword in her hand feels less righteous as a second wave of guilt tosses her around. It is the truth that is hardest for her to swallow. Iskra did this to her family. She may call herself Whisper now and may have been Azrael then, but all of those sadistic acts had been committed by one person. It's that one person who Verity despises the most.)

Serenity, split down the middle in two, approaches her next. "It would have just been myself and Priscilla had she not destroyed the others." Priscilla then materializes right next to Verity and shakes her head in disapproval. "Moms have rescinded their blessing after what that monster did. The hound can choose as many names as she pleases, but she is only Azrael to us."

It's hard to think with her sisters closing in on her like this, but she forces herself to remember the full context of what happened during Iskra's capture. There is a reason she is still here. 'Iskra never would have done this––were that true, you would have left.' Iskra on her own never would have harmed her family. She hated that violent part of her past and punished herself so much for it. She never would have gone back to that willingly. Verity reminds herself of this. Azrael had been the product of another.

Meanwhile, the other two sisters both grab hold of the pirate. "Do you remember us, Azrael?" they ask in unison, their voices layering over each other. "Or were we just mere fodder for your insatiable bloodlust? We certainly remember being cooked and flayed!" they giggle, punching the pirate in the gut. "You are nothing but a murderer. A monster. You're only good for one thing and you know it, so why do pretend to have good intentions with our sister?"

Overhearing that stirs something within the princess.

"You know nothing of what you speak!" Verity shrieks, thrashing against Serenity and Mercy. They grip her tighter and threaten to submerge her head beneath the blood sea. "She is no monster––you cannot define her that way! Not when you know nothing of her and not when you all know as well as I that it was Seraphina who did this to our family. Azrael may have been her instrument, but it was always that wretch who wanted to erase our family from the map. I ask not for you to forgive her, my sisters, for I understand that may be impossible with what you have suffered, and you cannot seek vengeance on the wrong woman."

"Oh, shut up, Ver." With that, Priscilla dunks the princess's head under the blood.

 

[Syntra]

No. No, no, no! Just, how could things take such a sharp turn? Such a sharp turn towards despair, a split second after they’d just emerged from that very abyss? For a second, Whisper had dared to hope-- dared to think that, perhaps, not all was lost. That Seraphina hadn’t written an epilogue to the book of their lives, no more than the others had. The Holy Vessel, or Demetria, or even Halen? None of them had ever possessed that transformative power, for nobody could wrestle it away from their hands! Except, you see, that was a mere theory. A theory that sounded good in her head, and checked out from the philosophical point of view as well. After all, if not them, then who should get to decide their fate? …maybe ‘who’ was the wrong question here, though. Perhaps Whisper should have asked herself ‘what’ decided these things, and in that case, the answer very well could have been ‘consequences.’ The consequences of her own actions, that was. Had she truly thought that murdering Verity’s sisters wouldn’t result in anything? That the ripples of her cruelty wouldn’t grow stronger with the tides, and turn into a tsunami? This is my doing. Iskra or Azrael or Whisper, it’s been me, me, me, all along! Why had she bothered to change her name, even? Neither vowels nor consonants could change one’s essence, and in her case… oh, what a rotten, disgusting thing it was. A monster, Whisper thought, oh so bitterly. Yes, indeed. Why shy away from that label when it describes me so perfectly? When the shoe fits to the point that it may as well have been sewn into my very skin? No, memory loss wasn’t an excuse! Good, kind-hearted women didn’t turn to bloodthirsty demons when their minds were tampered with. It just didn’t happen. That hers had gone there after it had essentially undergone a hard reset… well, that spoke volumes about her, didn’t it? About who she was, and always had been. Pages upon pages of text, more eloquent than anything Iskra herself could have ever written.

No, Whisper wouldn’t judge the princess if she decided she wanted to have nothing to do with her anymore. A soldier was a soldier, and her sword remained bloodied-- deeds couldn’t be washed away, you see, no matter how hard you scrubbed. Didn’t that truth seem all the more poignant now, with Verity’s sisters there? With all the horror that she’d created, staring her right in the face? Whisper wanted to scream, to cry, to do anything but remain silent, yet it appeared that the words had gotten stuck in her throat! (…even if they hadn’t, there was nothing left to say. Nothing of note, anyway. How would conjuring up excuses help, hm? Exactly what difference would it make for Verity, and the family that she had lost? No, Whisper realized. That in itself is a brand of cowardice as well. Verity’s sisters had emerged from the jaws of death itself, and what was it that they’d decided to do? They’d gone after them, instead of doing literally anything else. They could have greeted the remaining sisters, or perhaps visited their favorite place in the galaxy, or chosen to do one of the hundred things unrelated to the manner in which their souls had been torn away from their bodies. Didn’t they deserve to be acknowledged, at the very least? To be spoken to directly? …Azrael hadn’t even granted them that privilege, to her infinite shame. They’d died alone, suffering from wounds no woman should ever get to experience, and nobody had so much as told them why. Had they begged for mercy? Had they screamed till their throats were raw and their words incoherent, all the meaning erased by pain? That she knew not, either-- general Azrael had refused to witness that spectacle, for reasons of her own. Oh, how Whisper hated her.)

“Yes,” the pirate nodded her head, not even attempting to fight back. The tides were rising, the stench of blood assaulting her nose, but so what? There was nothing that she could do here, for her hand could not reach the distant past. What had happened couldn’t unhappen, as some people liked to say. “I do remember, each and every one of you. I remember, and I am sorry. I do realize that my regret is a worthless thing, yet I have nothing else to offer.”

“Indeed, it is worthless! Just like your entire life. Have you ever considered, perhaps, that it would have been better for everyone had you not been born at all? Your planet would have been healthy, and our family would have been whole. They should have named you Despair, as that is what follows you wherever you go.” A good argument, the pirate had to admit. It wasn’t a particularly new thought, as such sentiments visited her quite often, but hearing it articulated by someone else was striking.

“Despair, Despair!” the sisters sang, forming a circle around Whisper. “We think, Despair, that you should go with us. Isn’t it only fair for you to do so? To take the responsibility? You stole our young lives on a whim, and now we are so very bored. So, it should be up to you to entertain us for the rest of eternity! Don’t like it? Too bad, because that is what justice looks like.” Justice, justice, justice, echoed in her head, over and over, but when she noticed what the other sister was doing to Verity? Faster than an eye could blink, the pirate was by the princess’s side, pulling her back up.

“What is the meaning of this?” Whisper shouted. “Verity did nothing to you. Nothing. If you wish to be angry at someone, then by all means, unleash that fury at me. I am not going to lie to you and pretend that I didn’t do what I did, or that I had my reasons. I didn’t. I… I was a woman lost, and could only follow my mistress’s bidding. I should have turned my cruelty towards her instead, but I was too weak. Now I’m stronger, though.” With those words, she threw her sword away, allowing the blood to claim it. (The liquid… sizzled? If it accepted the sacrifice, that much Whisper couldn’t tell, but she also knew on some level that her weapon was lost. Perhaps that was for the best, too.) “I shall not target you again. Nothing in this galaxy can force me to raise my blade against you, for you don’t deserve that. You never did. Strike me, if it makes you happy! But if it doesn’t… I can at least promise you that I will spend the rest of my life protecting what remains of your family. Verity, and her living sisters as well. Is that perhaps more worthy than mere regret?”

 

[starboob]

Why? Why are her sisters doing this to her? In her memories, they are sweet and kind––full of Life and wonder and have idealistic dreams that match the princess's own. Or they were. That is how they exist in Verity's memories, because she never saw what became of them. She left. She saved herself and left. (That is not true at all, but how can the princess not think such when it certainly appears that way? She left, promising to return with a small army (that she technically did provide), and found love instead. And only was it when her love was threatened that she came back to help them. That is what they must think. How can they not?) Unfortunately, she's unable to even explain herself as her sisters attempt to drown her. Just before her head sinks below the pool, she shuts her eyes tightly and tries to remain calm. She doesn't understand how this is supposed to fix anything, but she supposes she doesn't blame them for being so angry. They were powerless for all those months. Verity was supposed to come back and save them and... They were dead the second that battle was lost, she knows. It had been wishful to think Seraphina would grant them any mercy. That they were kept alive for so long only speaks to the mad queen's cruelty. She wanted to ruin them and so that is what she did, but they were always meant to die.

Before despair can set in, she feels someone lifting her and she doesn't need to see her to know it's Whisper. Automatically, she falls against the pirate and clutches her clothing while she gasps for breath and sputters out blood. (Even with her mechanic limbs, she still feels like the pirate she first met. It is different, and she does feel safe in them––especially after the lightning display a few weeks ago.) Once she has recovered enough she turns herself around to stand between her sisters and Whisper, making her decision clear. She is not giving up on Whisper. She has seen too much of the resilient pirate who she loves that she cannot think that her wife is not still there––it's part of why she had been so hopeful for the rekindling of their relationship, but she had been going at it all wrong! She never should have been waiting for the old Iskra to come back, because the new one is here and she is just as lovely. Just as noble, kind, brave. Still so alive despite what she claims. She is once again reminded that she has loved the pirate for this very reason, for her ability to always come back and still remain so distinctly herself. It has been difficult for the princess to accept because of everything else that has happened in her Life most recently, but she is done pretending and she swears she will make it up to Whisper. Never again will the woman have to think she is unloved or unwanted, because Verity is going to prove just how far she will go for her pirate.

As she listens to Whisper, her heart swells with pride knowing that this is not easy and knowing what kind of courage it takes to acknowledge her past crimes. (In many ways, it helps the princess to hear this. She never would have asked for an apology on her own, because she would not have assumed that Whisper is not remorseful, but hearing her express this does comfort Verity.) "Whisper..." she mutters, eyes widening when the pirate tosses her sword into the blood and watches it disappear. (Whisper once told Verity that her sword was like another limb to her; that it had been bathed in her blood; made for her hand; she also knows the pirate sleeps with it nearly every night. So to see her discard it? The shock is clear on her face, but she does not protest this choice no matter how much it surprises her.) Her eyes flit back over to her sisters, eyeing them for any sign of movement towards them. "Believe her, sisters, for there is not a more honest woman in this galaxy––I even reckon she may be the last. She has saved my Life and the lives of others many Times over and if you know of what happened on her planet, then you know this other truth as well. She is more than the general Seraphina forced her to be."

The sisters all consider this for a moment with varying degrees of puzzlement on their faces. It's hard for even Verity to get a read on what they are thinking and she does worry they won't accept Whisper's offer. She doesn't want to go to blows with her sisters, especially not in their afterlife, but she will if that is what she must do to protect her pirate. "Please, this woman is important to me. I understand the evils she has committed, I have witnessed many of them firsthand, and I do not believe they are what define her. I would not give my heart to a cruel woman." She can tell Serenity and Priscilla are doubtful of that and before they can spew more venom, Verity continues. "This woman has saved my Life more Times than I can count. She has given me Life in ways I never thought possible. She is why we still have three other sisters back home. Yes, she also took your lives but only because of Seraphina. Let's face it, that you all survived as long as you did while in her hands is surprising. It was a Death sentence the moment she snatched you away. Whisper helped me take down Seraphina and without her? I am not sure any of us would be standing here. She made the right choice when she understood there was another choice."

Another bout of silence passes.

"Sister." It's Priscilla who breaks the silence and steps forward, and her other sisters seem to fall in line with the eldest. She lifts her bloodied hand to hook under her younger sister's chin. Her gaze is stern, but warmer than earlier. "I don't agree with your choice, and I trust you. That hound is not forgiven in my eyes, but I won't cause you more harm." She brushes her thumb over Verity's forehead and then her spirits falls back into the pool of blood. The rest of them fall, too, all but Mercy. When it is just Mercy, she approaches Whisper and looks up at her. Her brow furrows together and there is a clear complexity of emotions in this sister––everything from anger to understanding. In the end, she doesn't say anything. She just rushes into Whisper and hugs her, enough that the pirate might wonder if the child is trying to kill her, but she lets go eventually and then disappears in the same way the other sisters had.

Before Verity can even comment on that or breathe a sigh of relief, Inure shakes again. The blood that had been filling the ship is sucked out, sweeping the pirate and princess with it, until they are washed into the entity's hand––the entity who is twice the size of Inure, has a single eye, two mouths, horns, wings, and a forked tail. Outside of the ship, not only are the skies blood red, but anguished spirits float all around them, screaming in utter misery. "They may have given up on demanding a sacrifice, but I am not so easily swayed, pathetic princess and pirate."

 

[Syntra]

Expectations were a funny thing, Whisper had come to realize. They could both give you wings, and serve as a boulder around your neck-- a boulder dragging you down, down, down, till your spine cracked. And, between those two extremes? Why, the pirate was expecting the latter! How not, after all? How could she expect anything else, surrounded by all those corpses she'd helped to make? (In their eyes, she saw the deepest scorn. Words could be pleasant to listen to, indeed, but they couldn't re-ignite the spark of life, nor could they bring true solace. Not if you didn't trust the speaker, from the very bottom of your heart. What guarantee did they have, after all, that she meant her promise? That she wasn't but a common monster, waiting for their sister to lower her guard? Azrael had been a beast, her worst impulses unchained, and... well. Divorcing the memory of her from the woman now standing in front of them would have been too much to ask, certainly. Like hoping for a corpse to lift the lid of her own coffin. If I am to perish here, Whisper thought, it will be deserved. It will also be a much kinder fate than the one Seraphina would have gifted me, had I stayed with her.)

It turned out, though, that her worries were unsubstantiated. Somehow, the princess's sisters found it in their hearts to... well, not forgive her, not per se, but to let her go, at least. To not chase after pointless revenge. (Wasn't that true strength? To look at the one who had wronged you, and say that they weren't worth your time? There was a quiet dignity to it, Whisper realized. An air of nobility, too, even if they technically didn't share Verity's royal title.) "I do not seek your forgiveness," the pirate said quietly. "The only thing I ask for is a chance. A chance to continue living, and undo all of the evils I have birthed." The things that Verity was saying? Sweet warmth filled her chest at hearing that, sweeter than honey and more nourishing as well, and for a moment or two, Whisper was just... overwhelmed, really. Overwhelmed by how lucky she was, despite the card that the Shade had dealt her. (Perhaps it was a part of the balancing act? Her life had been a long string of misery, with one catastrophe following another, but she got to taste what real love was, at least. What a treat.)

"I'm sorry, child," Whisper returned the hugging, pulling the little girl closer. There just... wasn't anything left to say, was there? Mercy should have lived, grown, and fallen in love-- suffered through her first heartbreak, too, and cried on her older sister's shoulder. She should have learned from all of this, before making a legacy of her own. Instead, what had life served her? A traitor's mercy, and the sticky point of a sword. No child should have ever experienced this! "I apologize, for not having more to give. For not being a better sister to you."

And, just like that, it should have ended-- with reconciliation. With a sword that had been thrown away, and a hug to make it all better. Wouldn't it have been oh so poignant, like an ending to a tearjerking book? Except that, you see, bloodthirsty fiends rarely appreciated such things. "Do your worst," the pirate frowned. "And just so you know, I pity you. Your heart is black and shriveled, and though you may live forever, you will never understand what it is that makes existence worthwhile. One such as you can never beat the two of us. In your own way, you see, you are as ignorant as a child. The only difference between you and actual children is the fact that they have the chance to grow!"

'For someone who no longer has a weapon, you are rather... cheeky, pirate. It's about time someone taught you some manners, don't you think?' No, Whisper certainly didn't think so, but it went without saying that the question was rhetorical. Very much so. 'Let's see, then, how you can deal with true wrath. Something tells me you haven't quite tasted it yet, being the restrained fools that you are.' And, with that? With that, the hands tossed them among the spirits, like one might toss grains to their chickens. 'Rejoice, my children!' the entity shrieked. 'Because, finally, the time of feast has come. To you, I present the princess and pirate, the most presumptuous duo in the galaxy. Care to show them our power?' Whisper would have dared to hope that the answer was no, but, again, she wasn't that naive. With good reason, as it turned out.

The spirits swarmed them, like a cloud of bloodthirsty mosquitoes, and... ah. What, um, what was that? It felt like they were trying to crack her skull open, crack it open and fill it with their essence, which, no! No, Whisper wouldn't let them. For far too long, others had controlled her thoughts, so now they couldn't have it. Few things belonged to her fully, but, by the Shade, would the pirate protect those that did! "Stay away from me," she shouted, flailing desperately. "Your own grief gives you noright to take what is mine!"

Meanwhile, Verity was... hmm, dealing with her own set of challenges. With a very personalized set of challenges, actually. 'Why hello there, snake,' Seraphina's voice crawled into her head, clawing her way inside of her brain. (Her nails left fiery trails behind, each of them exploding, and shaking the very foundations of her mind. Was that what it felt like, to be bursting apart at the seams? Ah, it hurt, hurt, hurt!) 'Missed me? Because I certainly have. Now, stop resisting and let me kill your bitch of a wife. It has become a favorite pastime of mine, after all! Should I describe to you all the things I did to her, hmm?'

 

[starboob]

With one hand firmly choked around Telos and the other reaching for Whisper's hand, she glares at the entity, the thing threatening their peace. (Although, if the princess were to think about it she might realize that had it not been for this being herself and Whisper might still be playing games and dancing around the topics they find too uncomfortable to confront.) "You should learn to fear the pirate whether or not she has a weapon." Even with just the one sword between them Verity only knows Victory with the pirate by her side––regardless of who wields the sword. It is very possible that she assumes they will find a way out of even this and, really, why should she not think this? They have already proven themselves worthy of miracles before and so what is one more to their record? She assumes a stance in front of the enemy, debating whether or not she should carve up more of her hand or if she should try to jump and slash the giant's eye.

Ultimately, she doesn't get the luxury of that choice.

The storm of ghosts around them start to circle around the duo like tornados––the air becomes so thick that she cannot even make out the pirate, who had only been standing inches beside her before. Her senses are overwhelmed with the ghosts all pressing up against her, trying to wriggle into her body, trying to get underneath her nails, eyelids, nostrils––they drill into her, but she twists and swats them away, resisting at every turn until––

Her fight dissolves. An icy chill spreads through her spine, down her limbs as the queen's ghost laves over her. "Seraphina." The words are pushed through clenched teeth as she huddles into the fetal position, hoping that that might protect her from the mad queen. The queen who will stop at nothing to get what she wants. Who is not even reasonable enough to let Death stop her. She continues to antagonize the princess and tries to take that which shall never be hers. "Leave. Leave me alone! Y-you have no right..."

"You lost me my throne! My Azrael! My happy life. This is the least of what you owe."

The spirits holds Verity's body to the palm of the entity's hand, pinning her down and making it impossible for the princess to move. She can feel the queen's spirit crawling beneath her skin like spiders. "You did that on your own, bitch." With concentrated effort, she jerks her arm from the grip but not even a second after freeing herself, she is pinned down once more.

"Oh, please––I've tamed worse dogs than you. Just look at my work with Azrael, my sweet Azrael––you ruined her with your filth. Your fucking disease." Even for someone as willful as Verity, even she has her limits. Eventually she feels herself crumbling under Seraphina's grind. Her skull feels like sharpened claws are scraping against the insides; her bones feel like they are splintering. In her mind's eye, all she sees are stars. "You. Don't. Belong. Here." Again, she tries to regain control of herself, but the queen is powerful in Death. One of Verity's eyes shifts colors and loses all sense of Life, becoming soulless, and the other starts to become patchy. Her veins bulge and turn black. Patches of her skin start to wither and decay.

Seraphina forces Verity's body into an upright position, wearing a smirk that looks misplaced on Vertiy's lips. As she gets used to her new body she steps over to Whisper, standing over her. "You didn't really think you would get a happy ending, did you? I asked you for only one thing and you failed." Seraphina lifts Telos above her head and tries to swing Verity's arm down, but the arm freezes, refusing to listen to its apparent mistress. (The eye that had been blotched between that soulless hue and lively green, explodes in green.) "You shall not get to decide our fate, miserable woman. I shall not let you steal anymore." The frozen arm starts to shake and then it stills again. "It is not my fault that you are wanted nowhere. You have no one but yourself to blame, pathetic swine."

Verity's possessed arm tries to grasp for the sword, forcing the princess to let go of the weapon so that it falls in front of the pirate. Seraphina decides to shift her efforts and wraps Verity's own fist around her throat. Through choked gasps, the dead queen claws for control over the princess's body. "I... will... crush... you. Don't you want to join the rest of your pathetic family members?"

Surprisingly? That taunt doesn't even work for a second.

The princess refuses to give up. She's done giving up and if the mad queen thinks she can get Verity to crumble when the pirate, her hope is right there, then she's never known the princess. As she thinks about that future with Whisper, Verity can feel herself gaining more strength, enough that she is able to twitch some of the fingers around her neck. Sweat beads across half her brow, drips down her back. 'You have a future worth fighting for, do not let her win.' And how can she even let that be a possibility when Whisper is right there in front of her? She knows not what to expect from this new relationship, but that excites her more than it scares her as it had before. This can be good.

The fist around her neck begins to loosen and the princess is able to pry the possessed hand away, gasping as she does so and about ready to collapse. Seraphina is still in her body, she can feel that chilling presence pressed against her backside, but she ignores it to crawl over to Whisper. (It is so clear she's on the brink of consciousness and still struggling against Seraphina, the she-devil.) She gasps out, half dazed, "N-no one can steal our ending, Whisper. No one."

However, regardless of what the princess says, the ghosts seem to disregard her as hundreds slither over the pirate's body. It's like teeth chewing on Whisper's skin, trying to get her essence to budge over to make room for a new pilot. "Watch all you love die and be ripped away from you, beast," they all moan, their voices sounding as pleasant as nails on a chalkboard. "Are you ready to pay your debts?"

 

[Syntra]

No. No, no, no! Seraphina... Seraphina should have been but a nightmare, only crawling out of her subconsciousness whenever Whisper allowed herself to close her eyes. A memory, her power reduced to a mere fragment of itself. How come she was there, then? How come she was there, and touching her Verity? "Leave her alone!" the pirate howled. "Don't you dare, you filthy, disgusting..."

'Oh, but whatever will you do about it, pirate?' the entity taunted. 'You threw your sword away, and for all your monstrous parts, you are so painfully human. Powerless, like a leaf in the wind. I hope you don't think you can take Seraphina down again? Since her death, her thirst for blood has increased thousandfold. Such a willful child she is! She will open your arteries, and drink the sweetest wine from your wounds. There will be nothing left of you, you fools. Mark my words.' Regrets raced through Whisper's mind, regrets shaped like the decisions she had and hadn't taken, and oh, were they tearing at her soul! Like a thousand piranhas, each bite a bitter reminder of just how much she'd failed. (Hadn't she promised to protect Verity, just a few moments ago? Oh, indeed, indeed! Except that promises were fool's gold, perhaps pretty enough to look at, but ultimately worthless. An offering only accepted out of deepest desperation. Would she have been able to fulfil it, if not for that act of performative heroism? If not for her attempt to wash the blood off her hands?) "N-no," Whisper shook her head. "Stop lying. A spirit cannot be hurt by a blade. A sword wouldn't have done anything."

'Clever girl,' their foe smirked. 'But, Whisper, do you not see what that means? Surely, you can connect the dots! From the very beginning, you haven't stood a chance.' And maybe, maybe some version of herself would have seen the grain of truth in that-- the ugly reality staring back at her, with those dark, empty eyes. 'Don't you know when to give up, Whisper? Just let go. Rest. May you meet in some other life, with better cards and more choices. If you love each other enough, your souls will gravitate towards one another again. After all, how can you divide that which is meant to be whole?' But, no, the pirate wasn't listening! She didn't want to, didn't, didn't, didn't, and so she wouldn't. Never! Never again would they twist her hand behind her back, only to then push the narrative that it had been her choice all along. "Verity," the pirate screamed, trying to get closer to the princess. (The ghosts were like a swamp, though. They were grabbing her by the ankles, by the waist, by her everything, and it was so hard to remember where they ended and where she began. 'Whisper. Iskra. Azrael. You've been so many people, little Seed, so why don't you try being us? Finally, you'd have true home. Somewhere to belong. Don't you know that there will always be a place for you, here among the ashes?' And, no, that wasn't true! Her place was by the princess's side, in her arms, and in her heart as well. Wherever she wanted her to be, regardless of what the villains of this galaxy thought.) "Verity, no!" the pirate shouted, despite the ghostly hands holding her back. "Don't let her win. The queen... she's weak. That's why she can't help herself. Only when she's crushing others can she feel like she's better than the dirt beneath her own shoes! Someone like her can never have you, for there isn't nearly enough space in her shriveled heart for a fraction of one such as yourself."

'Silence, bitch!' Seraphina shrieked. 'I'll deal with you once I break your little wife. Would you like to be killed by her, hmm? How's that for your last memory?'

"She has killed me already," Whisper retorted, fire in her eyes. "She has killed me, and I've forgiven her. You cannot taint this for me, because you don't understand what makes it precious in the first place. I pity you. You aren't even a person! Just a slave to your own wrath."

That, if nothing else, seemed to shock Seraphina.'The traitor... has betrayed you as well? You are an even bigger fool than I thought, then! Her bloodline is impure, and she will always, always turn against the hand that feeds her in the end. Such is the snake's twisted nature. Why can't you see that?!'

"Because," Whisper thundered, more certain than she'd ever been of anything else in her many, many lives, "I want to believe in her. Nobody can take that away from me. Nobody!" Seraphina recoiled, as if she'd been punched in the gut, and time itself seemed to freeze-- the spirits floating in the emptiness of the space flickered wildly, only for them to start crumbling away. (Sand, Whisper realized. All this time, they've been just sand. Our fears made them bigger, and molded them into clay statues.)

'Why won't you just give up?' the entity complained. 'Your struggle is pointless. I demand what I am owed, and you refuse to pay it. The one who enters the realm of the dead must honor me! It has always been that way, since the universe itself was born from a foolish goddess's dream. Why should you, out of all people, be granted an exception?!'

And, when the creature said it like that, Whisper supposed she could understand her grievance. Then again, why shouldn't they? Hadn't they paid a price greater than most women, solely to be able to stand where they stood now? Over and over and over, the cruel fate demanded more from them! (No, she didn't want to pay it. Stuck at an impasse they were, though, and sometimes... sometimes, only a compromise unlocked the path to victory.) "I see," Whisper raised her chin, her voice cold like steel. "We wandered here by accident, though, and so I don't think we should be charged the full price. Instead, take... take my Shade. It's a guarantee that you'll get me eventually, isn't it? My soul will belong to you, just not right away. Let us have that brief time together, our lady of death. Please. What is that to you, if not the blink of an eye?"

 

[starboob]

The thing about the princess and the pirate? Neither are particularly good at listening to authority. So when a figure, such as this entity, tries to crush their will it only makes sense that they both come back twice as strong. However arduous it will be to swim against the current, they have never let others––including higher powers––stand in the way of their will. Perhaps to a detriment. Perhaps to their own benefit. (More than likely, both.) If fighting off Seraphina will take every ounce of her efforts, then she will expend that energy on keeping this cruel woman away from Whisper. She will not let her lay a hand on the pirate, so let her believe that she might have a chance at taking over Verity's body. So long as it keeps her away from Whisper, that is all that matters to the princess. No matter how hard the mad queen fights, Verity will prove that she is stronger (and always has been).

"The only fool here, Seraphina, is you––for believing that you still have any power over either of us. It's pathetic and I pity you for daring to think you are relevant enough to still matter. You shall become nothing more than a mere footnote in our story, for we will live long past your memory." As the princess speaks, she can feel Seraphina's grip over her body becoming weaker, perhaps realizing that she has lost. Verity can still feel her pressed against her back, trying to regain the control she had only moments prior, but the effort is laughable. In fact, she does laugh at the ghost––it's strained and hoarse from the efforts of her fight, but it is unmistakable that she is not letting the queen shake her. (It helps to focus on Whisper––her cupid's bow, those ocean eyes, her robotic limbs, the sweep of her hair, everything.) "It is a shame you could not build a true legacy from your name. You could have been great, but you chose to drown in all your hurt and expel it like a plague on everyone you ever met."

And as Whisper continues, she feels Seraphina's presence disappear all at once. It's like an entire world has been lifted from her back, leaving her breathless and aching. While she would have wanted to take a moment to rest and catch her breath, she is still not assured that they are safe and springs to her feet, grabbing her sword in the process. (Her knees are wobbly and weak, her chest is heaving, her back is drenched in sweat, and she can feel Sleep trying to beckon her eyelids closed.) With more effort than it should take, she lifts Telos threateningly towards the giantess. "Since our first meeting, when have the pirate and princess duo ever given up?" She raises the question as a warning, in no way suggesting that she will compromise. If she must insult another deity then so be it––no one gets to take her pirate from her. (No one except for Death herself and Verity does not think they are staring down that divinity.)

However, before Verity can damn them, Whisper interjects. The princess watches the pirate with some level of suspicion. Though she knows they have just agreed to not sacrifice themselves, and that Whisper had been willing to fight alongside her so that they both may see where their next chapter leads, she does have some worries. Worries that are built on a previous version of the pirate she had known; a foundation that crumbles when the pirate devises a compromise. 'Her Shade... The very thing keeping her from living a long Life by my side.' Her arm drops. She swallows hard as her eyes flicker hopefully between the entity and Whisper, her pirate.

The entity considers this for a moment. Her forked tail flickers back and forth and she scratches her chin. "Your Shade and, eventually, your soul in exchange for safe passage? Do you think me a fool? For I know this is just another way for you to cheat me and I shan't––"

"Silence, wraith." Another voice echoes all around them, but as for who speaks? She remains invisible to them. However, Verity regards her as a potential ally seeing as how the apparent wraith reacts, her ears twitching but ultimately she does not challenge the speaker. "You have played your role expertly and the pirate has offered a satisfactory compromise. You can choose to accept or deny, but that will be the end of this. Return them to Inure when you have made up your mind."

The wraith grumbles, and complies. Since there are only two options for her, she goes with the one that will satisfy the part of her soul that despises the pirate's unnatural Life. "Because the mistress only allows me to make this choice, I will take your Shade as collateral and when your Time comes, pirate? I will be there, at your deathbed, to personally escort you to the realm of the dead. Mark my words." While her tone is filled with ire, she begrudgingly lifts a claw over Whisper's head. Instinctively, the princess flinches and has to stop herself from jumping over to push the pirate out of the way, because the tip of the claw glows and punctures her head. Or it would appear that way, but no blood pours from her skull. It is just as though the claw has phased through it. Then, as quickly as it starts, the wraith pulls her finger away, the Shade clinging to the tip of her claw. Verity doesn't even know how to describe seeing the parasite, but she doesn't care either. She closes the distance between them and embraces the pirate. "Are you alright? How do you feel?"

"She is fine," the wraith scoffs, annoyed. With the click of her claws, the wraith disappears them from her palm and they reappear back on Inure (who doesn't seem damaged at all) and back in the mortal realm––much to the princess's relief. She doesn't let go of the pirate and while she has so much she wants to say––litanies of apologies––she does not get to say them. An ethereal woman appears to be waiting for them and she is hard to miss given that she is made entirely of flames, including her skirts, and her gaze is searing but somehow not unkind. Before she even speaks, Verity knows who this woman is and lets go of Whisper to bow to the sage.

"Seekers," she booms, "I offer my congratulations for the completion of yet another trial. Mine is not an easy one to confront. Tell me, what have you gained? And what did you lose hiding away as you had?"

 

[Syntra]

Her Shade. For the longest time, it had been a part of her-- as much as her heart, stomach or brain were, and perhaps even more. Weird as it was, those organs… well, they didn’t define her. Nobody was able to tell what kind of heart she possessed, nor how to treat her based on that very truth. The Shade, on the other hand? Thanks to it, her comrades knew to call her a Seed. They also knew that she didn’t belong to herself, or at least not to the extent other women did. Her life was her mission, and her mission was her life. After all, what was a tool that wasn’t being used? A sword that rested in its scabbard, the soothing touch of blood a mere memory? An opportunity missed. A waste of space. (Above all, the Seeds were taught not to be that. There was a weight of expectation to the role, you see? Because being a Seed meant that, one day, you’d grow beyond yourself-- that you’d crack, in that beautiful but terrifying way, and something greater than your old version would spring forth. It had never quite happened for Iskra, and certainly not for Whisper. So, as she was standing before the wrath personified? The pirate felt… conflicted. Joyous, yes, but also utterly terrified. Without the fragment of the Godhead, what was she? Was she anything at all, or had those countless deaths claimed everything that had once made her her? What if only a blank sheet remained, ready to absorb the words of whoever kind enough to write on it?)

Whisper glanced at the princess, and… well. In her face, and those expressive eyes as well, she read her answers. They stood out prominently, like the stars on the background of the night sky. Without the Shade, the captain thought, I will just be myself. It’s not like I have ever been anyone else. And, truly, how could she have ever doubted it? A woman was desire-- will itself, oh so fierce, focused on the word ‘want’. Once, the pirate had believed that the concept was foreign for her, and that had been right to an extent. You know what was similar to the concept of wanting, though? Its dark mirror? Not wanting. Being so consumed by disgust that you recoiled in terror, that was. Listening to a cruel order and deciding that, no, that wasn’t who you were! Always, always she had been someone, and without the Shade to obscure that… finally, that person would be able to breathe. Grow, in ways she had been unable to.)

“Less gloating, more acting,” the pirate recommended to the entity. “You have heard your mistress, haven’t you? So pretend not that your fate, and mine, hasn’t been sealed.” Did it make her nervous that there even was a mistress, holding this mad dog’s leash? Indeed, it did, but Whisper knew better than to let that fear show. The mysterious woman was watching-- watching and doubtlessly assessing their mettle, much like any potential enemy would. To show weakness at such a crucial moment? That would have been akin to activating a grenade, and then swallowing it. No, Whisper would not lose her cautiousness just because she acted in their interest! Was it not true, after all, that the most dangerous weapons were often wrapped in kindness?

But, for once, Whisper’s pessimism proved to be unfounded-- so off the mark, indeed, that it must have landed in another galaxy entirely.

Something reached within her, with a claw that did and didn’t split her skull apart, and when a profound feeling of emptiness seized her insides? Both the princess and the pirate found themselves standing before a being made of living flames. Oh, she thought, her mind still reeling. Is it over? Just like that? And who is she? The title the woman chose for them shed some light on that mystery, however, and it didn’t take long for Whisper to follow Verity’s suit. (The sages. The sages, and the quest to locate the wayfinder. Curious, wasn’t it? The cause had brought them together, made their seemingly incompatible trajectories intersect, and yet it had also faded into obscurity. For the longest time now, they had been doing anything but… well, seeking. Shouldn’t they be called Wanderers instead? Wanderers, or perhaps Misplacers? For they seemed to misplace every quest they had set out on, in this delightfully chaotic fashion.)

“I cannot tell, oh wise sage,” Whisper replied. “Not for certain. Sometimes, the things that we think we’ve lost are the ones that appear at our very doorstep, and that which we take for granted disappears in a puff of smoke. Only time can tell. Regardless, I can share an opinion or two. I… think that I have found myself. Myself, and a hint of future not chained to my past.” Not chained to the Shade, to the idea that Whisper couldn’t have what Iskra had once had, and so, so, so much more! (Gods, the idea that the parasite was gone… no, it hadn’t set in yet. Not with its myriads of implications.) “In a way, that it is also what I lost. My old self. She indeed is dead, but that doesn’t mean that I have to be.”

“Very true,” the sage agreed, and the flames making up her face flickered in a rare smile. “I see that you are ready for your next trial. It will be the final one, dear Seekers, for your goal is within reach. There is no need for you to worry about locating it, as Inure will take you there. She has always known where our eldest sister resides, and now she may share that knowledge. In the meantime, why don’t you enjoy the spoils of your victory?”

And just like that, the sage burned away, only leaving behind a pile of ashes. “Ah. Well, that is certainly a way to make your exit memorable,” Whisper offered the princess her signature small smile. “I… oh, by the sages! I cannot believe that all of that happened. That we met your sisters, and that the Shade is gone, and that… we somehow passed a trial? It feels like a week has passed. A week, or perhaps a year.” Absolutely spent, Whisper collapsed on her bed. A tornado of thoughts was swirling around in her head, wild and untamed, and, as per usual? The one that emerged victorious was an interesting one, to say the least. “I do believe it’s your turn to fulfil your promise, Verity,” she said, her tone absolutely serious. “I demand my poetry.”

 

[starboob]

The wayfinder. It seems but a mere distant memory to the princess; more of a concept than an actuality. Truthfully, she had forgotten that they were on a quest at all. Though they had not spoken of it (mostly because they have been doing very little speaking up until recently), she would have assumed that there is no longer a point in pursuing it for a myriad of reasons. Namely, that the tasks that supposedly required the relic are, well, complete. They no longer need its power (and perhaps never did). As odd as it is to realize this (yet again), they have finished what they set out to do and so the princess assumed they would not spend more Time trying to find it––not that she does not still have a curiosity, but it is mere a flicker of the flame it used to be. (However, the princess also forgot that the trials have been seeking them rather than them seeking the trials. Having never formally ended their search, she supposes that it makes sense they are still seekers––however poor that title is.)

Seeing as herself and Whisper are talking again, she supposes they ought to discuss this quest and whether or not it is worth pursuing. Or, that had been the princess's thought until the sage announces that they only have a single trial left to complete and that Inure has already been set on a course to find the last sage. (Again, so much for being seekers.) 'Well, if we are so close then I suppose it does not hurt to finish this out.' And, to be honest, it might be nice to end this quest with Whisper. Through all the versions of the pirate she has known, one of their constants has been these trials after all.

When the sage disappears, Verity turns once more to face Whisper, who is settling on the bed. 'Ah, Sleep.' Just looking at the pirate reminds her of how exhausted her own body is––between fighting with Whisper, for her, and everything else she is almost certain she will be gone to the world the second that she closes her eyes. However? However, Whisper seems to demand her wakefulness. She smiles, as she always should have been smiling at the pirate. (Wide and warm.) She shuffles over to the bed and climbs on top of the pirate to rest her head on her chest. However, she soon realizes that is Sleep trap waiting to happen and sits up, sitting cross-legged next to her. Her fingers reach out to trace that faint smile on the other woman's lips, not realizing how devastating it had been to not see this smile. 'Perhaps I can coax an ear to ear grin from her someday... Now that we have endless somedays.' "Only because I cannot resist such a handsome face," she laughs airily, pulling the pirate closer to her so that her head is in her lap; she threads her fingers through Whisper's short locks.

It must have been the Divinities who carved her.
(How long did they agonize over their finest work?

How scared were they to reveal her?)​

This universe must have been empty before her,
for the oceans wept when they first saw her
and the first birds to ever sing, sung for her
and so many miracles were born that day.

How did the entire galaxy not bow
when she took her first fawn-like steps?
(Who was it that caught her?

...Did they fall in love?)​

How were the worlds not flooded with tears?
How did the Sun itself not stop the planet from turning

just to steal another glance?​

How did the Divinites even part with a woman so Beautiful?
How is she not a Divinity herself?

Beautiful woman, I shall hold you in my arms like a goddess.

When she finishes, she leans back against the headboard and scoops the pirate into her arms, "Come here, Beautiful woman." Despite how exhausted she is, her mind refuses to still––much of it still lingering on their earlier encounter with the wraith, their argument, her sisters, Seraphina, the Shade, everything. In these past few hours they have probably aged weeks with all that happened. Her brow puckers together, her eyes downcast and looking somewhere distant. There is so much she wants to say and no clue how to even say anything. Words don't seem to be enough. "I... I do not necessarily blame you for what happened to my sisters." She decides to start there, where everything feels heaviest. "I did at one point, I will admit that, but I know that had you been yourself, you never would have raised a hand against them. ...Mercy seemed to see that as well."

"And I am sorry I have not been able to be there for you these past few weeks. You were struggling and a part of me could recognize that, but I truly have not felt like myself in a while. A long while," she muses. "I don't think that I could have been there for you, regardless of the circumstances, but I did not have to handle it the way that I did. By pushing you away and pretending you were not there. Whisper, I was never angry with you. I was never angry that you've been forever changed––at first, I did think I was, but it was just easier to take it out on the woman who was in front me and... Again, I am sorry. I will spend the rest of forever making this up to you, because you deserve the entire star studded galaxy and," she offers a shy smile, "since we may now have more Time together than we ever thought, I think I shall be able to give it to you."

"Tell, me––what would you like to see? I can show you the things you used to like and you can experience them again for the first Time––or I can show you entirely new things, things I've read about in our library. I want you to have the fullest Life, Whisper."

 

[Syntra]

Truth be told, Whisper didn’t expect the princess to weave a poem out of nothingness. The request had been meant for the future-- something to look forward to, perhaps, as they navigated the stormy waters of their new relationship. A lighthouse in the darkness, in other words. And, really, did it not make sense? There were many words, oh so differently shaped! Finding the perfect companions to those that you had in mind was a quest that ought to take many hours, not so different to looking for a needle in a haystack. A poem, Whisper knew, was hard work. Your way of thinking distilled to its bare essentials, and revealed for everyone to see. To give yourself to others so completely… that took time, didn’t it? Because in perception, there was a particular vulnerability, usually impossible to even taste. How could Verity be expected to deal with all of that, without any previous preparations? Very easily, as it turned out. Almost scarily so.

The captain sat on the edge of her bed, her eyes as wide as saucers. (How come that inspiration visited princess so eagerly? Had those verses been sleeping somewhere within her mind, and just waiting for their moment? Had they? It was either that, or, somehow, she just found her to be that good of a topic. Not the beauty of the stars, or the birth of nebulae, but her, born amidst the ashes! The former soldier, only good for carnage. Somewhere in there, a metaphor was hiding, right? Whisper knew not what she thought of it, however, and so she decided not to think at all. Some moments were too pure to be disrupted by the intellect. If there was a switch in her brain, she put it into the 'off' position-- the only thing that mattered now was Verity's sweet voice, and her melodic words. Words that she knew to be true, thanks to some half-forgotten instinct.)

"I... ah, I am not at all certain whether that was how it happened," Whisper said, her cheeks flushed. "I don't remember, but I think my birth was a common affair. Likely, there was... just blood and screaming." Yes, that, and also the Shade, being readied for its host. The captain's memory didn't extend that far, though it didn't have to-- countless times, she had assisted during the ritual, and always, always had those steps been the same. First, the Shade was extracted from the strange, purple liquid. (The life-giver, they called it. Ironic, considering that they had to take a life first in order to prepare to concoction, but such was the power of perspective. The power of language, too. Why emphasize any other point of view than that that belonged to the Shade? Empathy, too, was a tool-- a tool that could easily turn against you, if you weren't diligent enough about handling it.) Once it took its first breath, it did so along with its host, and... well. No, no need to think about that! Not now, when Verity was there and deserved her full attention. Recalling the details, drowned in blood, would serve nobody. "B-but, thank you for the sentiment," the captain stammered. Ugh, why was it so difficult to look the princess in the eye? There wasn't an inch of her body she hadn't seen, in inch of her body that she hadn't worshiped, and so one would have guessed that all the shame had already dissolved. What was there to be ashamed of, after all? ...except that, in this queer way, it felt as if Verity had looked at her for the very first time. Truly looked at her, and not at all those people she had been, or might have been. (The sensation was overwhelming, but... uh, not entirely unpleasant? Whisper liked being looked at, she realized. As long as Verity was the one who did the looking, and did so with all the warmth in the galaxy, the captain would accept it with grace.)

Calmly, without any protests, she allowed herself to slide into Verity's arms. (Home, her subconsciousness suggested. Was that her own thought, or some remnant of Iskra whispering into her ear? Something that wasn't truly hers? It didn't matter, the captain decided, when it made her feel like that. Like a precious flower blooming under her gentle sunrays, and not the vile, rotting thing she'd been before.) "I do feel guilty for that, though," Whisper sighed. "For I did it. I know not why, but I did. Seraphina... I do not wish to say that it felt as if she was pulling my strings, but it truly was like that. I couldn't not obey her. Not because of mind control, or anything as fantastic as that-- if the queen possessed such technology, she never used it on me. It's just that..." Whisper gulped, looking for the right words. This was never going to be easy, was it? "As Azrael, I was nobody. I was nobody, and I wished, with all my heart, to be someone. How could I not follow her instructions? She was my only compass, and I saw not that she led me to dangerous waters. That is my great failing, and my great foolishness. Just so you know," the captain wrapped her arms around Verity, "I did mean my promise. I intend to repent for the rest of my life, however short it may be. That you don't blame me is a relief, but I will always hold myself responsible."

When the princess continued, though? Tears once again welled up in her blue eyes, too powerful to be stopped. Who would have thought that such thoughtfulness would be directed at her once, instead of the cruelty of the whip? "It... wasn't easy, for either of us. I understand, and I forgive you. There is no need to mar our relationships with old grudges. That being said, my dear," she placed a small kiss in Verity's hair, "I wish not to dwell in the past. What would that serve? I know my memories won't come back, and so I don't want to retrace Iskra's steps. What I want is to discover our own wonders-- to make memories that would be unambiguously ours. Have you heard about the planet where each snowflake contains a song, for example? That's where I want to go. For starters."

 

[starboob]

It must have been well into the early hours of the morning when the two finally grew too tired for words and their responses had all been reduced to soft 'nnnghs' and 'mhmms.' Verity does not even remembering falling asleep, she only knows that it must have happened when she opened her eyes earlier and found the pirate quietly slumbering in her arms. (Now that they are back together, exploring this next era of their relationship, she has made a silent promise to never let go of Whisper, for she knows that if the pirate is in her arms then she is safe and nothing can harm her. Even if her nightmares come for her, when she wakes up the princess will be right there to coax her back to calm.) Still, even though it had been later in the day than either are used to rising, they hadn't necessarily felt the need to rush and wake up. With Inure already set on a course, they need only wait.

Of course, they eventually did rise from Whisper's bed and somewhere between getting ready and rummaging through the kitchen for breakfast, Verity had suggested they find a room for themselves on Inure––one that has never been just Whisper's or just Verity's. It will be a way to create a space that will be unambiguously theirs just as the pirate suggested the night before. (Well, she may have been talking about creating memories but the princess does not see why the other facets of their shared Life should not also be theirs. Besides, they practically spend every night with each other anyway and it will be much more convenient to stop pretending they have separate bedrooms.)

Anyway, the rest of the day passes in a blur. Verity herself isn't even sure where it went, only that they spent a vast majority of it keeping each other company. (It's as though she's making up for all that Time she spent avoiding Whisper.) By the evening, the pair are at the bow of the ship, and Verity is making up constellations and telling stories about them. (Stories that are strikingly similar to the captain's Life. Must just be a coincidence, surely.) “And so that is how captain Arksi and princess Alveera saved a pod of dolphins. Would you like to––?” The princess pauses mid-sentence, her entire train of thought derailed when she spots a bright white ring in the distance, looking like a star that has been permanently eclipsed. "Whisper," she tugs on the pirate's sleeve and points, "Have you ever seen anything like that before?"

And, indeed, the sight only gets stranger the closer they get to the ring (or perhaps more normal when one considers how strange both their lives have been since crossing paths). The middle of the ring, Verity realizes, is completely pitch black. No stars or other sources of light can be seen through it. Then, upon closer inspection, it also appears that the bright ring is living––a dragon made of light, eating its own tail. (She remembers reading about this exact symbol before in one of the books in Whisper's library.) Idly, her hand searches for Whisper's, "Are you ready, my love?"

Despite the confidence in her tone, it feels like there is an entire minefield going off inside of her chest as she tries to prepare herself for whatever they might come to face. How will this last sage challenge them? Will it be a test of strength? Will? Wit? Will it combine past trials? Just where are they even headed?

When they are a few meters away from the massive hole in the universe, Verity has to crane her neck all the way backwards just to see the top of the glowing dragon. Inure comes to a stop just before the pitch black veil and the bow lowers, creating a bridge that leads straight into nothingness. The implication is quite clear, 'Go forth, seekers.'

She takes a deep breath, squeezes Whisper's hand and steps forward.

When they cross over to the other side, brightness swallows the princess's vision and when she is able to see again? The entire realm is sparkling. The landscape is covered in glittering gemstones; everything––the trees, the birds, the clouds––are all made of gems. (A deep sense of longing fills the descendant's heart; a type of homesickness she never realized she had. ...Is this the world her people had to flee?) She takes a few small steps forward, swallowing hard as she takes in the sight and sparkle of this impossible crystal world. She spins around for a few Times, soaking it all in. 'How is this place real?'

The princess blinks, then blinks again until she is out of her stupor and can focus on Whisper. She smiles. As she returns to the pirate's side, she bends down to pluck a crystal flower from the ground, one that is almost identical to the ones that grow on Inure, and hands it to Whisper, "For you, my lady."

As they continue through this strange realm, the path they are on splits into three different directions, each guarded by a holographic animal.

"Follow me, seekers!" a mouse squeaks, running up towards the pair. "I shall help you on your quest––judge not a book by its cover for what I lack in size, I make up for in wit. We can conquer anything!"

"Tssk, tssk––what a liar," a snake hisses, "That mouse will help you nowhere. She barely knows her head from her tail! Come with I and learn the power of transformation. Only I know how to bring out your true strengths. Only I can help you win this."

"I could eat them both and still have room for more," an eagle yawns, "Come with me if you want to soar."

 

[Syntra]

This new planet, Whisper felt, was a distant dream. Something not directly thought of, but only ever imagined, on the periphery of your mind's eye-- for some reason, the pirate got the impression that anything more direct would have shattered it. Murdered it, in the same way you killed a butterfly by grabbing its wings. Still, this wasn't the same, was it? Because the planet was still there, despite them discovering it. It carried their combined weights, and showed no signs of breaking. Oh, no, it wasn't as fragile as you might think! ...but that didn't make the sight any less breathtaking, any less majestic. "Beautiful," Whisper sighed. "Is that... the home of your ancestors, Verity?" Indeed, everything about it must have awakened complicated emotions within the princess. A home lost... that wasn't a light burden to carry, was it? Seeing it like that, in all its crystal glory, must have spawned all sorts of what ifs in her mind. (What if they had never left? What if they had reclaimed their birthplace? What would have changed? What, what, what? As a wanderer, a woman with no roots, Whisper understood her far, far better than she would have liked.) "Come, Verity. We may admire the place once we confirm for ourselves that no wolves are waiting for us, and thinking us to be sheep." That, by the way, would have been a dire mistake. Far too many had underestimated the princess and pirate duo, at their own peril! Would this dragon, woven out of pure light, do the same? Was it a foe, even? So far, dragons hadn’t necessarily been a negative symbol throughout their journey.

"A-ah," the pirate accepted the rose, scarlet tinging her cheeks. (There was an impulse to reject the gift, to tell Verity to mind their mission, but... well, hadn't she asked for romance? For that messy whirlwind she had read about in so, so many books? And romance didn’t wait for ‘a better opportunity’ or ‘a more sensible timing’. That was kind of its thing. After all, you wouldn’t ask a storm to calm its fury just because you wanted to go for a pleasant walk? You wouldn’t, unless you wished to claim the title of a fool. "Thank you," Whisper settled on, her lips dry. “I shall treasure it till the end of my days.” (The end of her days, huh. Without the Shade looming over her, the phrase felt both more and less real at the same time. After all, she had been turned into a mortal-- a mortal defined by her fragile shell, and how much beating it could take. Death was always walking in her footsteps now, wasn’t it? A real one, not just a restart, followed by her brain being recalibrated. The most dramatic of ends. At the same time, though? At the same time, that hypothetical death could also happen in decades, instead of years. Instead of months. All her life, Whisper hadn’t as much as dared to hope that she might see old age! And now that future, snatched away from her when she’d been but a newborn, was just… there. There, for the taking. …what a dizzying, dizzying feeling. Akin to drinking from what you thought to be a cup of wine, perhaps, and finding that it was rum instead.)

Despite knowing much better than that, Whisper couldn’t say that she wasn’t enjoying this. So majestic was the scenery, so beautiful the crystals, that one might easily forget that they weren’t on a leisurely stroll! …but, as always, reality was there to remind them. Naturally.

Three creatures, three paths. Three, the pirate knew, was a magical number-- a number of possibilities, of changes, of mysteries lurking just beneath the surface. What was the best choice here, hm? Who would be an ally to their cause, and who would drag them down, like a boulder tied to their ankle? An eagle is powerful, but it is skybound. Can it really understand the struggle of those who must walk on our own two feet? Then again, the power of perception was definitely on its side. There was no creature in this galaxy whose sight was greater than that of an eagle, and oh, would they benefit from that! A mouse, on the other hand, knew the secrets of the earth. No cavity remained hidden to her, and through tenacity, it could conquer even the greatest of obstacles. Have you ever tried to hide food from mice, for example? Ah, only fools picked such an impossible fight! But also, their ambitions were undeniably larger than just wanting to secure the crumbs from another’s table. Perhaps it wasn’t the right ally for this task, then. And the snake… well, the snake seemed like the only obviously wrong option. A symbol of betrayal, of war and woe! Was it, though? Was it? It could hardly be faulted for the characteristic that humans had assigned to it, based on their own petty fears. Prejudices, even. They looked at it and saw a source of venom, not the living, breathing creature!

Whisper glanced at the mouse, then at the snake, and then at the eagle again, thoroughly undecided. What kind of trial could require them to make such a choice, with all of the variables hidden? A riddle unfinished, that was what it was! "Thank you for your generosity," the pirate bowed, "but I must decline. All of you. Each of you would have been a wonderful guide, I'm sure, but it is my belief that we have to find our own way. One shaped by Whisper and Verity, not by whatever boons that you may be able to provide."

And, when those words fell from her lips? In the centre, where the three paths intersected for a few precious moments, the soil shivered and disappeared, revealing a deep, deep lake. Crystals bloomed on its surface, just like with the rest of the planet. (Had it ever been there, or was it just an illusion? Something to fool undeserving eyes? Whisper knew not, nor did she care to.) "Very well, Seekers. A difficult path to walk, though not one without merit. Will you dare to go where nobody has gone before you? Utterly alone, too?"

 

[starboob]

The princess has to wonder whether or not this is the first world or just an approximation––perhaps even a place held together by the memories of the ancestors, long dead and since recycled. In truth, Verity is scared to wonder any of this as if it might break the magic of this place. For now she only wants to enjoy it for a few seconds longer, before trying to lift the veil and go beyond what has been presented to her. (But there is that undeniable deep seated feeling that her bones know this place, somehow. Perhaps because the first star that breathed Life into the first descendants still exists in their lineage, within her. It brings a sense of calm and the princess dares to trust it.)

When the three creatures spring from nothing (or perhaps Verity simply never noticed them, being so mesmerized by the crystal landscape), she blinks in surprise. Not because the creatures are talking, very little can shock her after learning peaches (or some peaches) can talk, but because––outside of themselves––the planet has seemed quiet. Not in an unpleasant or eerie way, but hearing three new voices seems to ruin the ambiance of the planet. Part of her doesn't want to go with either of these guides, but if they are to choose... Well, as much as she recoils at the imagery of snakes, something pulls her towards the animal because it would be the least expected choice. She imagines there is a certain type of person who would choose the bravado of the eagle or the ambition of the mouse; what would it say to choose the cunning of a snake? However, before she can so much as voice her thoughts on the matter, Whisper has stepped forward with her own idea––and not one that the princess does not disagree with. Rather than watch the reaction of the holographic animals, she looks to Whisper and grins. Entirely unperturbed by the voice, she responds, "Though it may seem we are alone, we have each other and with our two minds, there is nothing that can stand in our way. There is nothing for us to Fear. To go where no one else has gone before," she offers her hand to Whisper, "does not frighten me when I walk the path with my darling."

She steps forward to stand in front of the lake and peers into the thin layer of crystal growth that covers the surface like a layer of ice in the winter. When she looks down, she sees their reflection and smiles. A whimsical part of her waves at the two reflections. Oddly enough? The reflection of the princess giggles and offers her hand to the princess; Whisper's reflection does the same. "Do you think...?" However, before she can even finish her question, her reflection reaches through the crystal barrier and pulls Verity into the lake.

Instinctively, she thrashes and gasps out for breath and is shocked to find that she can breathe; she is not being drowned. There is no need to panic. Yes, she is beneath the water, her reflection is no where to be seen, and she is breathing. She tries to poke her head back through the surface to let Whisper know she is alright, but finds that whatever crystal barrier she has been pulled through, is solid (and not nearly as thin and fragile as she initially thought). She can see up through the surface, but cannot break through. Perhaps a cause for worry, but she is still breathing and she does not believe this trial is trying to harm them. Since backwards is not an option, she looks over her shoulder to see if there is a clear path out and only sees an expanse of sea-green and meandering crystalline aquatic Life. Well, the path out may not be clear, but still she does not worry. She waits for the pirate to join her and once they are both in the water, she points towards downwards, curious to see what is hidden in the depths of the lake.

As they swim further down, visibility in any direction becomes fainter the darker it gets. This also makes the contrast between light and dark that much more apparent; some of the fish, for example, have a faint glow and it causes them to stick out like stars against the night sky. A few meters further ahead, there is also the glow of either a large creature or... or something that Verity cannot even think to fathom and she decides it must be worth checking out.

The glow, as it would turn out, leads into a cavern. However, the cavern itself is not filled with water. Somehow. When they cross through the threshold, they are able to walk instead of swim. Within the cavern, and responsible for its glow, are more crystals. These ones seems as reflective as the layer that covered the lake and Verity can once more spot her reflection, who laughs and shrugs as if to say, 'Not sure what came over me.' Her reflection skips away further into the cave. "Curious," Verity looks over at Whisper, half a thought on her mind, however her eyes widen to saucers when she looks past Whisper at her reflection––her reflection who has a bleeding stump for a sword arm (though the reflection doesn't seem particularly alarmed). At a loss for words, the princess merely points, horror written on her face. So focused she is on Whisper's mutilated reflection that she doesn't noticed the shadow beast materializing in the mirror behind her, threatening to poke through the barrier between worlds––

 

[Syntra]

A lake. Was it a lake, even? A lake, or an ocean? So alluring were those depths, so full of secrets, that Whisper couldn't imagine it being barely bigger than a puddle. (Had she been of sounder mind, she would have questioned going there. 'Why must we do this?' the pirate would have asked. 'Whose conditions are being fulfilled?' But, ah, the ocean was calling-- singing a siren's song, beckoning her to come closer, closer, ever closer. Ultimately, her legs responded automatically, without any conscious input of her own. Had she been dragged in there, or had something within her just... failed to resist? The boundaries between those two subjects were blurry, and so Whisper failed to see the difference.)

"Have you ever wondered," she asked the princess as the waves caressed their hair gently, "why oceans exist? In my homelands, there's this... legend, I suppose. It says that seas and oceans are a goddess's tears-- that every large body of water once used to be a battlefield, drenched in blood. Only the deepest grief could have transformed it like that, they claim. But, you see, I think they are wrong. I don't believe that it was grief, out of all things. More than anything, I see it as defiance? Because they looked at the carnage, judged it unworthy, and changed its very essence. Changed it for the better, too. Can you truly claim that sorrow even can do that? Sorrow, with its painfully dull edges? It can be the impetus, sure, but... well, I don't think it is enough. Always, beautiful things are born from your own inner strength." An oddly passionate speech? Perhaps, but Whisper had never liked that line of thought-- the pervasive cultural agreement that, from the ashes, roses could grow. (It did sound nice from the surface, of course. What did it say once you really thought about it, however? That, in order for those buds to blossom, flames had to scorch the earth first. Which, no! Whenever such a miracle happened, it was in spite of the tragedy, and not because of it. Women would do well to remember that.)

How did they know to enter the cavern? It spoke to them the loudest, and those unheard, unspoken words were the only lead they had. "Careful," Whisper warned Verity. "This is still a trial. Who knows what dangers might lurk beneath?" Indeed, the pirate wasn't going to stumble! Not so close to the finishing line, with the goal finally in sight. They hadn't shed blood, both theirs and that of others, to not enjoy the fruits of their labor in the end-- of that, at least, Whisper was certain. "Do you think there's any meaning to all those crystals?" They provided reflection, something to think about, and perhaps... perhaps that was the intent behind them. An initial spark, to trigger something in one who had the eyes to see. And, if nothing else, that much Whisper did possess. To the extent that she saw the monster, forming out of shadows and smoke...! No. No, you don't. Running purely on instinct, the captain shoved the princess away. She did all that, but that didn't make the creature disappear-- oh no, no, no! It was still there, with its sharp claws and an even sharper smirk. ('Do something if you dare, pirate,' it said. We shall see whether your bark is louder than your bite.') And, really, it didn't have to challenge Whisper twice. Crystals are breakable, right? With that thought, she raised the blade against the pink, shimmering surface. Clang! The sound was loud, a symphony of glass and steel, and the cacophony etched itself into every fiber of her being. Something to remember, surely. It was also a mistake, as it turned out, for the creature grabbed the sword. Grabbed it, and pulled itself out of its prison! By the Shade. What have I done?

The captain yelped, but she managed to do little more than that. Her own reflection, the one with the bleeding stump, embraced her from behind-- somehow, her grip was steel, lead, stone. The force of a bad habit, still holding onto her. "Let go of me, you vile woman!" Whisper shouted. "No," the monster grinned. "You let go. I am not the one who carries so much baggage that her back is about to break." Before her very eyes, its beastly face... transformed into that of her own? Her own twin was staring at her now, surrounded by a faint aura of danger that was singing, singing to her ears. ('Don't you know? Don't you, don't you? Because, oh, you should.') The other Whisper then took the sword, and carved letters across the captain's skin-- letters that spelled I S K R A, as she realized, through a veil of blinding pain. Through the surge of humiliation, too. "A-ah," she moaned. "No. Stop. That isn't who I am."

"Not who you are? And who are you, then?" the thing tilted her head aside. "Or, better yet. Princess Verity, who is the woman standing before you? A nobody, shrouded in shadows? Your beloved wife? A monster, with blood still dripping from her claws? Answer, and know that I hate lies."

As not-Iskra spoke, more creatures emerged from the crystals, this time eager to grab the princess. "Verity, Verity. Ah, Verity! What a lovely name that the ancestors had chosen for you," one of them sang. "Indeed, indeed! You can smell her sincerity." "Such a lovely child." "You belong with us." A strange mist invaded her mind, mist smelling of home and sea and childhood, and, ah, were those her sisters she could see among the faces sculpted from crystal? Her mothers, even? All of them were smiling, too, as if to welcome her back! "Come, Verity. Come home. Up until now, everything has been a dream. A preparation for your real life to begin. A daughter of Aurora should not waste her days in the emptiness of the space, chasing after something she can never get. You would wither and die, like our beloved planet." ...and then, of course, they tried to drag her into one of those crystals. Uh oh.

 

[starboob]

The way that Whisper speaks reminds the princess so much of how they used to converse, full of philosophies and always sharpening each other's edge. It reminds her that nothing about the pirate has fundamentally changed. (While she could chastise herself for not realizing this sooner, she decides to bask instead in knowing that she did eventually come around.) She takes Whisper's hand and offers a small squeeze.

When the pirate asks about the significance of the crystals, Verity strokes her chin, thinking over the query. She does not think this is just a way to show descendants what the first world was like (if this even is the first world at all), and does believe there to be some symbolism behind it. (...Or perhaps it is something from one of the lost customs and if such is the case, then the princess is at a loss.) Naturally, the second she does have an idea she spots the mauled reflection and doesn't even register the shadow beast growing behind her. She only notices it when Whisper shoves her to the side to face it herself. "Whisper!" the princess cries out, scrambling to get up to her feet. "You are mortal now––need I remind you?" Surprisingly, she manages to keep her tone smooth, leaving out any sign of a quiver or a choke. Though the pirate seems to want the princess to come undone, because to Verity's utter horror, Whisper continues to act before Verity can pull out her own sword and join her. 'No, no, no! You blasted pirate!' (Somewhere in the back of her mind she wonders if this is how Whisper has felt watching Verity execute brazen and ill-thought out plans. She most certainly does not appreciate this reversal of roles.) "Wait, Whisper, we don––"

Her eyes widen, her blood stills, as she watches the shadow grab onto the blade and pull itself out of its crystal prison, looming over Whisper. (Next to a monster, her pirate looks incredibly small and the princess's mind unhelpfully supplies so many visions of her being squashed, crushed, beaten to a pulp.) She fumbles trying to feel around for her sword, distracted by the beast, and feeling powerless to do anything to help her love as Whisper is held down by warped versions of herself. As one cuts up her skin. "Leave her alone, imitations!" She finally manages to pull Telos from her belt, raising it to challenge the beast. "She is whoever she wishes to be––I cannot define her, for that is not for myself to decide. You ask the wrong woman the wrong question, cretin. Stand down before I make you wish you had never escaped from your prison!"

However, before she can so much as move, the crystal figures she had not noticed stepping out of the barrier finally circle around the princess. At first, she does see them as women made of crystal, but their faces start to morph as the scenery changes around her (as Whisper fades behind the mist). "Mom?" Understandably, the princess has trouble believing her eyes but she cannot place why. (A pang in her chest gives her a hint though.)

The mother she calls Mom smiles and rushes to wrap her big, strong arms around her daughter, squeezing out her tears. "Who else would it be, my little trouble maker?" The smell of the salty sea air fills her nose and when she looks around, she notices the pink sunset sky, the soft lap of the waves against the shore, and the wind rustling through the reeds. Behind her mothers, her sisters, her grandmother, is the small home she grew up in. (Wait, but this image is not right either...) The princess swallows hard, not entirely believing what she sees and yet also powerless to deny it. Then her family all circle around her, grabbing onto her arms, and trying to force her forward towards the home and Life she misses.

...Misses. That is the keyword.

"N-no!" She pulls herself away from their grip, staring each of them down. "This is never what you have wanted for me." The mother she calls Mama steps forward. "Of course it is, darling. We miss you dearly and wish you would return from your wayward journey. No one else understands you like your family. There is no other home for you other than Aurora."

"But you are not my family. This is not my home," she responds, fighting against her tears. "This home was burned," and when she says that, the scene behind them changes to the image of smoldering rubble. "You all are not family, for my family would not lead my astray. They are with me and they have always wanted me to choose my own destiny. Always, they have encouraged me to go my own way and though they may not understand why I would leave Aurora, they would never stop me if they saw that my heart is in the stars." This entire Time she has been backing away from the false family and the false imagery. "I have family on Inure and my home is the pirate, Whisper."

She doesn't wait to see how the crystal women will try to manipulate her, for they are not worth her time. Against her better judgment, she turns her back on the crystal creatures and looks at Whisper. "Whatever your name, you are still always the same person to me. There are parts of you that are much too strong to kill and they are the very pieces that I love the most, for they are your essence. Your essence, what makes you you, is why I love you and have chosen you. You are my rose, and I do not care what your name is because you are always the same brave, honest, pirate who I fell in love with. It took me a while to realize that, sure, but I see you now." She shrugs, then points her sword towards the shadow. "Now, step aside from the pirate before I make you, hellspawn."

 

[Syntra]

Pain. Pain, dull and throbbing, somewhere behind her eyes-- not claws sinking into her soft flesh, but a hammer inside of her head, pounding, pounding and pounding, till her brain was nothing but mincemeat. A ruined, useless thing. The actual carvings on her belly? Blood was rising all around her, these tiny red ribbons connected to her in the same way strings were connected to their marionette, but Whisper couldn’t say that she actually felt it. Not in comparison to that. (Whisper, Iskra, Azrael. Three entities, three people, a single fate. What did it matter which name she chose for herself? Why did these monsters care? A name was a name, not a magical spell! If she invented a new one every day, her core would remain the same-- the unchanging essence of her soul, tethered to her since her birth. No, it wasn’t the Shade that defined her. It had never been! They’d just… blinded her to that truth. An unthinking soldier was a malleable one, you see? Clay instead of hard marble, oh so reflective of every touch. Craving that touch, even, because without it, she had no idea who she was supposed to be.) “Wretches,” the captain hissed. “You have no say in that. Absolutely none. Who I am is my burden to bear alone!”

“Hmm,” the monster grinned. “An interesting choice of words here, dearest captain. My burden, you say. Should something as simple as who you are be a burden? Do you think that birds are bothered by their wings, or tigers by their strips? That they agonize over what they have and haven’t done? No, they just are. And, by inventing all those artificial distinctions between the layers of self, you fail to focus on exactly that.” What? What was this about? A joke with a point too complex for her to grasp, apparently-- she could feel the conversation behind the conversation, the subtlest of whispers in the wind, but as for what the true theme was… no, her ears didn’t catch that. For that, it was much too quiet. Ah, why did everyone seem to love riddles so much?! Always, always they wrapped the simplest thoughts in the fanciest paper, making her wrestle with all those unnecessary bows! “Speak plainly,” Whisper groaned. “I have… no patience for your petty games. No patience, and no desire, either. What it is that you wish me to do, and by what right do you dare to demand it?”

“You seriously don’t know?” The monster hadn’t insulted her, but it didn’t even have to-- the grimace its face had contorted into spoke much, much, much more eloquently than any words could. “I am you, pirate. Your mirror, shrouded in darkness. That is my mandate, and my birthright as well. Why should I not have demands? Just as I remain faithful to you, you have certain obligations towards me. Towards yourself.” What a load of nonsense. No, a cheap replica could never lay claim to a part of her! Nobody could. Seraphina had done it, as well as the Holy Vessel before her, and truly, did anyone need a reminder to which cursed places that had led? (…corpses had lined the path, too. So, so many of them, their bodies broken beyond recognition. Still she could taste the ashes in her mouth, still the smoke kissed her skin. Ah, no, no longer would Whisper allow others to make these choices for her! The pirate wanted to scream, to let out all of the frustrations that had been simmering just under the surface for years, but then… then Verity spoke. And, in an instant? In an instant, her voice shattered any thoughts that she might have had. Love. The princess… loved her? What was more, she loved her in her entirety, with all the blemishes, all the cracks! Hers had been the hand that had raised her sword against her family, but somehow, her heart hadn’t turned to stone. It just hadn’t. Instead, she had invited her there, and made it into her very own home. Ah, what had she done so right to deserve such blessings? Something, certainly, because her Verity wouldn’t have been so foolish as to offer it to an unworthy woman.)

“I know,” Whisper said, tears filling her eyes. “I think I have always known, my guiding star. That is part of why I have been following you. I… I love you as well, and more than I can tell. It pains me that I cannot always be good for you, and you for me, but we have the rest of our lives to figure it out. We will figure it out, too. I know that as well, because that is who we are. Names don’t even begin to enter into it.” To say that the monster that it didn’t take it too well would have been an understatement. Quite an understatement. It shrieked, shoving the pirate away-- except, you see, it was already too late, for it started to melt. “What have you done?” the thing cried out, dark blood streaming down its stolen face. “You can’t, can’t, can’t! You are killing yourself, you ridiculous pirate.” With a loud clang, all the crystals then exploded at once, giving birth to a storm of shards. Strangely enough, though? Strangely enough, they only passed them by, not so much as causing a scratch. The glass was just… floating in the water, and twinkling harmlessly.

Without bothering to think about the impact of those events, Whisper rushed to embrace her love. “Verity! Verity, are you unhurt?”

But, oh, that wasn’t the end of the trial! Not yet, at the very least. “Princess and pirate,” a low voice boomed somewhere above their heads, “you have proven that you can destroy, but it is unclear yet if the power of creation is yours as well. The crystals were a thing of beauty, even if they were stuck in the past. A wonder that you have smashed to pieces. Make something new of them, then! Do so, or perish in these depths.”

 

[starboob]

Like the ocean, Verity's heart swells and the sea of her eyes dribbles down her cheeks. Whisper may have once said she did not still love Verity; she may have even yesterday said that she couldn't any longer, and despite those declarations the princess has still clung to the pirate whether she had realized it or not. It may have been difficult for her to recognize how deep the roots are in her heart, but there must be no other heart for her to make a home of if she keeps clinging so fiercely to the pirate. Even if they are not always the best for each other, even when they wield their tongues like swords meant to cut or kill, the understanding has remained that what they have is worth preserving and nurturing. The path to getting where they are today may have been like hiking through thorn-bushes, but who better to walk it with than the little gardener that is her pirate, her Whisper? "Our nature cannot be changed by our names, that is true. They are mere suggestions of what lessons we may inspire or hopes from our ancestors, but we always have our choice in how we live out those mere syllables." She tries to hurriedly swipe away her tears, but the stream is quickly replenished. "May we always make choices to preserve our sacred bond, because there is no other woman I would want to share this with. There is only you and I feel as though my heart waited until she met yours to fall in love. You are my heart, my pulse, my rose, my dandy lion, my pirate––all of those and so much more, Whisper."

The monster's warning rings hollow to Verity, for she does not think the pirate is killing herself at all. If anything she is breaking out of her chrysalis and emerging as the woman she was always meant to be; perhaps the woman she has always wanted to be. As the storm of crystals swirls around them without so much as touching them, Verity keeps her gaze fixed on her pirate, unable to move (maybe she has forgotten how, staring at a woman so Beautiful she could knock out a sun). She merely puts away her weapon and laughs as well as cries, realizing Whisper is the first woman with whom she has shared the words "I love you" and meant it. When the pirate embraces her, she just melts against her, nuzzling her nose into her neck and inhaling her scent (mint, gunpowder, and something floral she has never been able to place). "Yes, yes, I am unhurt," she smiles, wiping away her tears once more (and still they continue to fall, but with less fervor than before). She looks the pirate over, making sure she is not harmed––well, beyond the carving in her skin that Verity's hand hovers over. "You know I––"

However, before the princess can forget that there is still a trial for them to finish, a voice (the sage, she assumes) echoes through the chamber with their next task. 'Ah, creation?' In all honesty, of all the trials they have faced, this may be the easiest one yet. The threat that they will perish if they do not follow the instructions does not even phase the princess. The pirate is a composer of music, she composes poems and stories, they both dance, she paints––they are creators by their very nature. "I think we should create a story from these crystal shards––a story of what it means to be whole, to accept yourself and all the missing pieces and the new growth... That seems rather apt for our story, does it not, my fierce captain?"

The princess turns around, noticing how the shards still hover through the air but they are not storming around them as they were only moments ago. Each piece seems to have its own light pastel color and the princess begins collecting the pieces. "You grab the reds, pinks, and oranges and I will gather the blues and lilacs." Once they have gathered all the pieces they will need, Verity searches for the perfect spot for their masterpiece. At the very back of the cavern, there is a smooth flat surface of stone and the princess sets to work. Each shard, somehow, sticks the wall without needing an adhesive and, slowly but surely, their work comes together. "I am not sure if these were in the diaries," the princess starts, creating the outline for their story, "But once we spoke of what it means to whole. I suggested that perhaps the point is not to be whole, but that we can be like mosaics. Beautifully broken––that is not to say I am romanticizing everything that has happened to us, for I know we both have experiences we wish we could erase from our histories, but I stand by what I said back then. That we are only as whole as we let ourselves believe. We can choose to see a shattered vase or we can choose to see pieces for a new work." She scatters some shards across the ground, creating a trail of broken pieces that lead to the mosaic. "Oftentimes, in order to find wholeness again, we must let go of how things were to get to how things are."

She tilts her head to the side, looking at their work so far, and takes a few steps backwards to get a better view. As she backs away, she hits something and when she turns around? A tall woman made of crystal is scrutinizing their creation. (Her face down to her shoulders is covered in eyes and the dress she wears is barely a veil to cover her nakedness.) "Is that how you see it, princess? That wholeness is a subjective state? Curious." She hums and steps through the princess to get a better look at what they are making. "If given the chance... What might you change of your Life and experiences?"

 

[Syntra]

Whisper stared at the shards, floating in the water weightlessly. And, unlike the princess? She stared at them with horror. (The mysteries of destruction were simple to unravel-- you only had to strike, and cut, and hit, and employ all those other verbs that carried aggression within. The process was entirely mindless. Creation, though? Oh, a lot of thought went into that! A lot of effort, too, because it cost much and more to first imagine something, and then pull it up from that dark, abstract place, despite your hands bleeding. It took vision, not just casual cruelty. An actual spark, not the hungry, hungry flames that had been devouring her from within. That sort of thing could only ever destroy, you know? A phoenix could rise from its own ashes, indeed, but there was a reason why the phenomenon only ever occurred in stories. Tales, unlike women, could survive on symbols-- on those shortcuts to wisdom, as ephemeral as sakura trees in full bloom. The actual, flesh-and-blood humans, though? No, they couldn’t afford to not cling to their needs, for those were what defined them. Such as, you know, the need not to be burned alive.) “Verity,” she sighed, “I know not whether I can do it. Whether…” Whether what? Whether she wasn’t too broken? Irreparably damaged, between Whisper, Iskra, Azrael, and all those people that she had been? The tug of war was intense, pulling her into impossible directions, and the pirate… the pirate didn’t know if she could withstand it. Didn’t, didn’t, didn’t! (…that, too, was a lie. Withstanding was what Whisper had done from the very beginning, and even now, she wouldn’t fold like a house of cards. Dandelions were stronger than that. Still, did she have to be strong all the time? Perhaps the captain didn’t want that-- didn’t want to be a sword, or a shield, or all those things that had a clearly defined purpose.)

“Forgive me for wavering,” she sighed. “It’s just that… for me, this is difficult. Creation isn’t the strongest impulse I feel. All my life, I have destroyed, and so I suppose that the idea of breathing new life into something does make me nervous.” (Maybe that was the sign that it was all worth it, though. Didn’t all big endeavors make one’s heart race, after all? The weight of expectations could be crushing, as well as the fear of failure, and perhaps, perhaps Whisper was experiencing that all over again.) “Oh, believe me, Verity,” she gave her a small smile, “that Iskra recorded every word of yours. Indeed, I am familiar with this theory that you’ve spun.” Did the pirate agree, however? She was inclined to say that yes, yes, a thousand times yes, but… well, some instinct of hers stopped the word in her throat. (Why? Was it not a beautiful sentiment? Hadn’t Iskra accepted that belief as her own, as her own commentary suggested? Except that something, something about it rang false, and Whisper couldn’t quite put her finger on it.) “I don’t know,” she said, while gathering the crystals. “The imagery is beautiful, I’ll grant you. As a symbol, I do enjoy it. But, Verity, do we have to think about ourselves as broken at all? Perhaps I don’t want to be a mosaic. Perhaps I don’t like to think that, had my path been different, I would have been more than just a bunch of pieces haphazardly thrown together.” A naïve wish, wasn’t it? The pirate had come to believe that wishes had the right to be naïve, though, and so she wasn’t backing down. Not now.

“Don’t get me wrong, I am not denying that my circumstances shaped me. They did, and not always in a way that I liked. But, you see, perhaps I would prefer being likened to a tree-- a tree that grew up bound to something, but can now continue growing freely. Because, you see, trees never really stop growing. I never want to, either.”

“An interesting thought, pirate,” the newcomer, likely the sage, replied. “Interesting thoughts from both of you, though I have come to expect that. Now, answer my question.” Which, what? What kind of question was that? Whisper had come to expect strangeness from the sages, but for her to think that any woman in the galaxy could come up with a satisfying response to that… ah, the depths of foolishness were staggering.

Whisper lifted her chin. “I would change everything, and yet nothing at all. If I had a mirror into which I could look and see for myself how my changes would affect everything else, then maybe I’d dabble somewhat. Other than that, though? Other than that, I wouldn’t touch anything. As painful as my experiences have been, they have also led me here. Multiple paths to the same goal exist, I am certain, but there is no guarantee that I would have ever found it.” Gently, she squeezed Verity’s hand, and looked the ethereal woman into the eyes. “That is my answer, o mighty sage. Without knowing what kind of price I’d pay for it, I’d do nothing that I haven’t done yet. Well… maybe aside from one thing,” she admitted, glancing down at her feet. “Back when I was a woman lost, a woman wandering, I picked a new name for myself. I don’t like it anymore, for I do not feel like an echo of the one that came before me. If I must have a name for others to call me with, I want it to be stronger than… Whisper.” Seriously, what had she been thinking?! Whisper, for one who had conquered so many challenges standing in her way? For one who was so unashamed now?

A smile played on the sage’s lips, and she tilted her head aside. “Well, you said it yourself, pirate. You have chosen that name once, and you can choose a different one again. What will you go with, I wonder?” And, indeed, there was a world of possibilities, blooming just within her reach! All the sounds in the galaxy, ready to serve her purposes. (And yet, yet all of them felt wrong. Unnatural, like putting on an animal’s skin. All of them, aside from--)

“Iskra,” she finally said. “The monster did have a point, even if it had no right to force it upon me. It is true that it is a perfectly good name, and that it describes me well. I am not running away from anything anymore, so why shy away from this?”

“Indeed,” the sage said. “It is my pleasure, then, to say that you have passed the trial. Verity and Iskra, you have succeeded where countless others have failed. The wayfinder is yours-- although, in a way, it has always been.” The duo must have looked entirely dumbfounded, for the crystal woman laughed. “Have you never wondered why it is that the wayfinder was supposed to be handled by two? Because they were to become the ruling couple. They were to become the wayfinder, for it is queens’ task to find the right way. I don’t believe that that tradition is still alive, but it seems to me that you have gained more than you have lost on this journey. Is that not true, pirate and princess?”

 

[starboob]

This entire Time they have been all they have needed. The stories of Celestia and Aurora traversing the dark galaxy in search for a new home always made it seem as though the wayfinder were a tangible object; a tool they used to guide them, but it must have just been themselves, their instincts and intuition. Now she and Iskra have walked that same path themselves, using their own (ever sharpening) beliefs to aid them in these trials. She doesn't believe that their successful completion of the trials means that they must now go back to her homelands and usurp the throne of whoever may sit there now. No, she does not at all believe that that is what this sage is suggesting. Merely this title of being wayfinders... It only means, well... She supposes it means whatever they want it to mean. It is for them to decide. Perhaps they will become a beacon for the galaxy to follow; perhaps they will use it to continue to follow the path of their hearts; perhaps it will be both or something entirely different. The princess knows not what lies ahead. The only certainty she has is her pirate and, in that, she supposes she knows a Life of adventure is sure to continue once they part from the sage.

The princess squeezes Iskra's hand and pulls her close to her side, looping an arm around her waist. "Whatever path we choose now is ours alone. Our hearts can lead the way and mine so desperately wants to listen to those snowflakes that sing lullabies. And perhaps afterwards we can ride the waves of creation? Or visit the planet with clouds that tell stories? The entire galaxy is ours, my darling dearest dandy lion."

***
​

Iskra. Iskra, Iskra, Iskra. "Iskra," the princess smiles, finding every excuse to use the pirate's name. (It's been a few months and still the novelty has not worn off. While she wishes she could have been more perfect and accepted Iskra's prior moniker, she would be a liar to say that she never thought it fit. Iskra is not a whisper, but a shout. A boom. A force to be reckoned with. Even if she had understood then why the pirate needed some space from herself, she found it hard to believe a woman not living her truth.) The pair sit on a pink cloud, their fingers gently interlocked, as they watch sunset after sunset on the planet known for having them in any direction one looks.

The princess is not sure what it is about this moment in particular––perhaps it is the soft lighting against the pirate's skin, or the way she speaks so ardently about a book she recently finished, or that she's barely watched any of the sunsets to stare instead at the princess––and whatever it is, Verity feels an overwhelming warmth in her chest. Like a thousand fireflies twinkling and spreading through her veins. Her head lulls lazily to the side to gaze at Iskra, noting some of the scars that have been left now that she no longer has the Shade to protect her. 'Handsome woman. Beautiful woman.' She brings Iskra's hand to her mouth, kissing the tip of each finger, and looking into those blue depths. "Iskra, would you do me the honor of marrying me once more?"

***
​

A year turns to three to turns to seven and so on. So many that eventually the princess loses count between all of their adventures and heroic deeds. While not necessarily their intention to rid the galaxy of all evil––for even an idealist like herself knows that is simply not possible––where they can stop tyranny, they do. Where they can deliver Justice, they have. Though Iskra is still regarded as a pirate, few Fear her. In fact, just the other week the princess recalls children running up to the captain and asking if they could hold her sword. It had endeared the princess to see her pirate be so patient with the group of children; her hand had fallen to her chest and there had been the idle wonder what her Life might have been like had she stayed on Aurora. Had she had a more stable lifestyle. She wondered what it might have been like to settle down in one spot and have a few children of her own. Of course, she is more than happy with her Life, and every so often she has these wonders. But after many conversations with Iskra, filled with mutual doubts and worries, they had agreed to put the subject of children to rest. (The princess has little doubt in her mind that Iskra would make a wonderful mother. It's that she Fears what she, herself, might pass along to those children. She also wonders if it even is fair to bring children into a galaxy fraught with corruption.)

However, Life is rather strange and it is almost always stranger where the princess and pirate are concerned.

"Captain, princess––" Alirynn bursts into the command deck, her face flushed and chest heaving as if she ran a great distance to reach the duo. (If it were so urgent Verity wonders why she had not used their comm-channel, for that surely would have been faster.) "You have to come see this."

They are brought down to the kitchen where Ressie stands guarding a child––guarding being a relatively loose term as Ressie is offering the girl food and trying to coax her into speaking. But the child looks half scared to Death (and perhaps with good reason seeing as she is covered in bruises and scars). She's shaking and Verity can tell she's holding back tears, even if Ressie is doing her best to be a comfort to the child. "Ah, come on, kid, you gotta give me something... Your name? Your mom's name?"

The child simply shakes her head in refusal.

Verity gives Iskra a look, one that expresses her concern, and squeezes her pirate's hand. She approaches the girl slowly and sinks down to her haunches when she is about a meter away. She offers her friendliest smile and, from the princess, it does look like home. "Would you like to bake a pie? We are supposed to have pie tonight for dessert and, well, we really could use the extra help."

The child gives the princess a skeptical look, understandably so, but Verity does not give up. She waves Alirynn and Ressie out of the room and motions for Iskra to come closer. "This is my wife, captain Iskra, and I am princess Verity," recognition seems to spark in the child's eye, most likely having heard stories of the legendary duo. Verity's grin widens, "Yes, you may have heard of us. We are going to make some pies. You can join us or just watch, and... if you help us, you will get to have the first slice as soon as it cools."

That does seem to motivate the girl and over the course of the next hour, Iskra and Verity share stories and mythologies while the three of them prepare the pie. Eventually the girl warms up to the duo, laughing at their sillier tales, and they learn that this girl is named Tirza. She admits that there are three more girls hiding on Inure and agrees to bring them out if they can have some pie too. Once the four girls are all in the kitchen (the other three are named Delilah, Imani, and Rowan), full of pie and stories (Verity swears she might actually run out), the duo learn that they are running from the asteroid salt mines where they have been forced to work after their homelands were pillaged by the mining company. Upon hearing that, the princess looks to the pirate and without words says, 'We have to let them stay.'

***
​

Inure has likely traveled to the end of the galaxy and back thousands of Times, and in all those trips the princess wonders if she has ever done it as a library of rare books, audio files, and lost artifacts looking to return to their respective homes. She doesn't remember whose idea it had been to expand the library's collection; she doesn't remember whose idea it had been to allow any curious soul to peruse their collection. But as the duo have gotten older, they've had to slow down their usual trouble making antics (their daughters begged them to slow down, even) and focusing on their collection has been a source of joy. (The princess would be lying if she said she didn't miss their days of saving pantheons, reconciling with ancient spirits, protecting sacred species, and so on. However she also cannot deny that her body protests against her far too much these days to ever be that fighter princess again. She can barely lift her sword as it is. Ah, such is Life with its endless wonders and changes.)

The princess, now with silver hair and wrinkles etching stories on her skin, sits next to her beloved in their bed. Her green eyes remain the same as they always have––vibrant and curious. However on this night, they are barely holding back her sorrow. She clutches her wife's hand and strokes her grayed hair. (Never had they ever dared to hope for this when they were young. Never did they think they would have so many years together. Never did Verity think they would create so many memories together that it would make up for the ones Iskra lost.) Of course, with the one truth in every soul's Life, Death would always come for the pirate eventually. She only selfishly wishes she could have been the first to go, but she also supposes she is glad Iskra will never have to go through the Pain of watching her whither.

With the family they have made for themselves on Inure, the room is full––full of allies they have made through their travels, the crew members who still live, Verity's remaining sisters, and their daughters and granddaughters. There is joy and sorrow mixing in the air; joy from celebrating Iskra's Life and sorrow knowing that it is to end soon.

She sighs and smiles through the tears that drip down her cheeks. "Iskra," she all but whispers, as if speaking any louder might blow her love away. "Iskra, I hope it is not arrogant of me to say, but if now is your Time... You may go, it's okay. We always knew you would leave this galaxy before me," she smoothes over the back of Iskra's mechanical hand, "I shall join you soon, that I am most certain. We shall not be apart for very long. I merely need to finish the chronicle of your Life and then I shall take my place by your side in the stars."

"And before you go, I should like to tell it to you. At least the first chapter." She rests her cheek on top of Iskra's head and sighs again. She beckons their daughters and their daughters' daughters forward, pointing to the end of the bed for them to gather. While she is addressing the entire room full of people, she speaks directly to their granddaughters. "I want you all to hear this story, too."

She clears her throat.

"It all started with two screams, that of the mother and that of the child coming into this galaxy. An ordinary affair by the standards of some, but others believe on that star dotted evening it was not a woman who was born but a sage in the making. The sage of Inspiration and her name was Iskra..."

 

[Syntra]

Once, the pirate's days had been full of grey-- endless ribbons of mist, rolling around in her head. Monochrome, monotone, dead. As dead as herself, even when her heart had still been beating. There were many different kinds of death, you see? And Iskra had chosen one of them, in the same way one might choose a name for her daughter. (Like a daughter, she'd embraced it as well. Clutched to it, as if being dead was the only identity she had ever had. The height of foolishness, wasn't it? Akin to a butterfly who couldn't see its own wings, and thus believed the colors resembled ashes.) Still, mist wasn't a prison. It wasn't a death sentence, either-- each morning, you see, the sun's gentle touch melted it, and sent it back into oblivion. Back where it belonged. And, Iskra's sun? Verity. Verity, her guiding star. What was a star, after all, if not a sun, chosen among many? (The pirate had chosen her. She didn't have to be clairvoyant to know that she'd continue to choose her, again and again and again, for as long as she was allowed to live. The sands of time were working against her, but why worry about that? Between all the enemies they'd felled, this was the gentlest, most peaceful one. The deadliest one without doubt, but... well, Iskra supposed that there was no shame in losing to them Sage of Time, she prayed, admiring the way the stars reflected in her love's eyes, give me many, many, many years with her. I have not yet counted all the ways in which she can smile, and haven't brought her the tiniest piece of sky. ...but, honestly? If she were to die tomorrow, it would have been worth it. All of it.

"Yes," she smiled, clasping Verity's hands. "This time around, my love, I will treat both of us better. Not just you, but myself as well. Let me promise that to you, along with my soul." Wasn't it a sacrifice that had ripped them apart the last time, after all? Some half-forgotten instinct, making her cut herself into pieces? But, for her beloved wife, Iskra knew to remain whole.

***

Their daughters. It wasn't a phrase Iskra had ever expected to utter, at least outside of the context of 'I don't have any daughters,' but fate's ways were mysterious, indeed. In more than one way, as it turned out.

"I don't know, mom. Is this a good idea?" Lelia, their oldest, had such a sharp look in her eyes that Iskra could have sworn in that moment that Verity was staring back at her from those hazel depths. Technically, that was impossible, but... well, it wouldn't shock Iskra if Verity's essence had somehow found a way to imprint itself on their adoptive daughters. For that, she was stubborn enough.

"Ask not yourself whether an idea is good," Iskra gave her a wide, warm smile, "but whether the reward is worth the risk. If we always stuck to the old ways, the very concept of progress would shrivel up and die."

"Hmm... true. In this case, though? I'd just say you're being stupid."

"Momma Verity is going to be so furious with you!" little Myrne added. The criticism in her tone was searing, and, as Iskra would later admit, well-deserved. "Who even does this? Just because it's her birthday, you don't need to... don't need to resort to that." And maybe she didn't, but Iskra wanted to. You see, three months ago, Verity had mentioned off-handedly that she would love to taste Hyrgesian honey-- the honey that only grew in active volcanoes, at this exact time of year. Wouldn't it be a perfect gift, then? Her Verity wished for something, and so it only made sense for her to secure it. One plus one equaled two. "I implore you to return to Inure," Iskra insisted, as she put on her fire-resistant gear.

"Well, and I implore you to stop being stupid. What, you think momma Verity will appreciate a burnt corpse?"

"I won't die! I... ah, I have a plan."

"A plan which, as I understand it, consists of you jumping into a volcano?"

"While wearing fire-resistant gear." Indeed, Iskra knew that Verity would be proud of her for that one! There wasn't a single aspect of this that could possibly go wrong-- certainly not while wearing one of Saavika's prototypes. (That some of those who tested the gear perished? Merely rumors, Iskra was convinced. Not once had she met one of those supposed victims, and...)

"Alright," Lelia smirked. "Myrne, have you recorded it?"

"Yup, loud and clear. Every word of her nonsense has been immortalized, and I'm sending it to momma Verity as we speak."

At that, all the color drained from Iskra's face. "No. No, no, no! Hand me the recording device, Myrne. You must not disrespect your mother in such a--" Oof. Three other girls had rushed from the bushes, tackling her to the ground, and Iskra couldn't help but commend their strategic prowess. (They were raising little soldiers, even with the hope that they'd never have to see war.) "Alright, alright, you win! What's my punishment?"

"Let's see," Tyrre rubbed her chin. "You gotta buy us lots and lots of chocolates!"

***

Years passed. At the beginning, the pirate counted them religiously-- each had been a milestone, a proof of fate defied. The most gracious of gifts. Not once had she stopped treasuring them, either, but... well, there had been too many. (Too many years, too many joys, too many little heartbreaks to offset all their victories. You know what there could never be too much of, though? Too much love. Even now, when she was struggling to breathe, Iskra could sense the familiar warmth-- the knowledge that she wasn't alone, no matter what.)

"I apologize, my love," she clasped Verity's hand, like so many times before. (Her eyes were white and unseeing, most of all resembling milk, but that couldn't stop her from recognizing her wife. After all, their hearts still beat as one. A dandelion's root was too stubborn not to keep reaching for its counterpart, you see?) "I... I know I promised to stay for eternity. It seems that this is as far as I can go, though. It hurts me to die as an oathbreaker." From her frequent brushes with death, Iskra knew that it was close-- before, it had always walked past, but she could sense it taking her hand, leading her... somewhere. (No, the pirate pleaded, not yet, but she mostly did so out of habit. After all, what was there to complain about? Not even with a thousand lifetimes at her fingertips, she could have been happier than this. Ah, to think that it had all begun with ashes! With despair so deep it had almost broken her, back in that godforsaken corner of the galaxy. ...still, maybe that danger had never been real? Because, in the end, she had always remembered to straighten her back.)

"Verity," she whispered, her voice hoarse. "Verity, you... don't have to. Don't have to join me soon, I mean. I am patient. Stay as long as you need, my guiding star, and show others their way. I will no longer get lost, for I know exactly where to go. There, I will wait for you. It's... it's been an honor. I love you."

Wanting to focus on Verity's words, Iskra closed her eyes. One last story, the pirate thought. I can stay long enough for that. Because, you see, she still was, was, was--

--and then she wasn't.

Fin