#the bright star of morning and eventide

[the-quiet-light]

"Though my soul is set in darkness, it will rise in perfect light. I have loved the stars too fondly to be fearful of the night.

If darkness comes at eventide or if it dims the morn, My path is bright, celestial light, with twinkling stars adorned. The shadows give perspective on things already known; And the light, although familiar, was only mine on loan."

Have some lyrics from I Have Loved The Stars Too Fondly by Heather Sorenson, since I think they fit with Dusk

…

yes.

[alystraea]

Eärendil, aka Gil-Estel the Star of High Hope, aka Ardamírë the Jewel of the World. 

[fatewoven]

He gives his sword a twirl, tiptoe balancing on the ship's railing, entirely undeterred by its faint rocking. He and Riku had finished one of their daily sparring sessions, though Kenshin's watchful gaze hadn't entirely gone dismissed. "Seems like ya had some fun watchin'." Sharp edge's flat end rests underneath his chin, gently tipping his chin upwards. "Practice with me? Oh, notorious Kitora?"  /  @ybani​​

Dreams grow easier the longer they’re drifting through the seas. Complacency gives rise to familiarity, the gradual loosening of his cutting  vigilance to something less wary — caution no longer at the forefront amidst this motley crew. Kenshin feels more like himself, certain, after too many long years on the surface, around too many people, too much of everything, and the expanse of oceans reflect that change. The winds of the Northeast Passage remain benign well into the afternoon, and beneath the calm waters a hidden world of a thousand shipwrecks lay scattered across the depths, untouchable but by those who know of their existence; their sunken treasures overgrown with coral and worthless to all the denizens of the sea. It’s clear this crew cares little for earthly riches, the priceless gems he’d dug out from the sands centuries ago in his youth no more precious than washed-up shells. Instead, they focus on each other. Laugh and dance during the lulls of their arduous journey, and he’s drawn by their camaraderie like a fish to water, quiet but not opposed to the livelier atmosphere that takes hold from time to time.

Kenshin watches the twins duel along with a dozen other spectators, the two of them a blur of fleet-footed and skillful swordplay across the deck as they weave between obstacles and people alike. Hands half-pretending to be busy with rope, expression graced with a private smile at yet another victory for Riku, he lingers in the angled shadow of the mainmast. Once the crew disperses, the sun already descending from its zenith and approaching the horizon, his figure rises from the eventide glow — every motion leisurely. Measured. Approach marked by quiet footsteps and an assessing look, his attention is briefly (noticeably) drawn to Toshiro’s heaving chest, the billow of his shirt caught in the zephyr. “You like knowin’ I watched?” Yet, at the sword edge meeting his neck, the press a lure he’s immediately drawn by, Kenshin offers him a grin: a toothsome sight that’s far less intimidating than the mien of his true form. He takes another step closer; blood flows in a rivulet pattern, a delicate ribbon trembling down his throat. ��What happens if I win this bout?”

A favor. They agree on the nebulous terms of this wager while Kenshin draws out his blade and hums in confirmation. (Later, to say it was a fair fight would be generous due to the disparate level of sheer strength at hand, but the enjoyment derived from the spar proves to be genuine. Toshiro looked at him without guile as Kenshin mirrored the sentiment, the goal of winning set aside once the simple pleasure took precedence above all else, the strike of steel igniting something in his heart, a rhythm, a song he’d almost forgotten. His veins flow hot with it, the ache of the past forgotten, even if momentarily, as the colors of the day swirl around them, the sunlight fading behind Toshiro’s head, casting his figure in a halo that lingers in his memory still. He’d pressed Toshiro against the railings, cornered him, and he looked fearless, brazen and self-assured even as Kenshin’s blade teased over skin, aimed at vitals. And, in the end, it was not the blade that took the plunge, but they themselves as the sea below welcome the reckless dive overboard, caressing them in a whirlpool of cleansing tides, gentle as any cradle as Kenshin followed suit on instinct, this bright morning star that guides him ever onward.)

In the now, as the ship sways and his opponent alights on the deck, graceful despite the recent match with his sister, Kenshin grins at him; eyes bright in the dusk, luminescent. Hungry, too, sweeping over Toshiro’s form as they settle into their stances. Kenshin, at his core, is a creature inured in death, and by the feel of him — this man that could stand as his equal — has caused plenty himself. “I won’t hold back,” he remarks, the weight of a weapon familiar, acting as an extension of his limb.

“You better not.” The first strike doesn’t come unexpectedly as Toshiro dashes forward. Yet, Kenshin’s pulse surges as he moves to parry, the cascade of satisfaction as they trade blows impossible to ignore — and the air rattling from his lungs is wrapped in mirth. An uncomplicated desire to see what else Toshiro is capable of.

The wind picks up, edged with teeth this tine. Kenshin’s amusement causes the waves to dance and crash against the hull like a heartbeat as Toshiro matches his enthusiasm; resplendent and utterly sincere.

(He could grow to love such a feeling.)

[coldmilkcreamery]

ornaments.

𝗽𝗮𝗶𝗿𝗶𝗻𝗴: seo changbin x male reader 🥀

𝘄𝗼𝗿𝗱 𝗰𝗼𝘂𝗻𝘁: 1403

𝗱𝗲𝘀𝗰𝗿𝗶𝗽𝘁𝗶𝗼𝗻: in which changbin asks about the bracelet Y/N never takes off and finds out it’s from his friend that committed suicide.

𝘄𝗮𝗿𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴/𝘀: mentions of blood and death; suicide

𝘄𝗿𝗶𝘁𝘁𝗲𝗻 𝗯𝘆 🌙

𝗮/𝗻: i took a lot longer on this fic because i lost motivation so many times, but looking at the finished product, it’s my favorite out of the four i've made so far !! thank you so much for requesting @mrsunshine999 !! please continue supporting us !! <3

> 𝗺𝗮𝘀𝘁𝗲𝗿𝗹𝗶𝘀𝘁 <

-

Changbin was naturally curious. Whether it be about his cousin's current class, what his bandmate ate for yesterday’s dinner or the weather of a country on the opposite side of the globe. He was curious about anything and everything. So, naturally, after dating Y/N for about two months, he would get curious about the lime bracelet that wrapped itself around his boyfriend’s hand. The said trinket was held together by a single thread of yarn, decorated with miniature glass beads and a tiny, fluffy frog in the middle. If he was being honest with himself, it did not look aesthetically pleasing. In fact, it wasn't. The beads were uneven and scuffed up, the color choice was horrible and overall it just looked like it hadn’t been washed in a while. He was afraid to call his partner out on this, being the shy bear he was, but after seven weeks with his boyfriend, both his curiosity and hygiene-oholic self got the better of him.

“You know,” Changbin mumbled in a sing-song tone, staring at the unattractive accessory, “you never told me about that…” he pauses, rethinks his words and continues again as his boyfriend locks eyes with him, “bracelet around your wrist.” Y/N freezes, resulting in both of them halting, and with them, their stroll at the park.

“You okay?” Changbin asks, half confused, half worried, “I’m talking about the—”

“Yeah, I know what you’re talking about.” Y/N cuts him off, lips quivering as he tightens his grip on the paper bags he holds, almost ripping the fragile sheets, “Let’s just drop these off at Nicky’s first.” Nicky’s is the name of the local bread shop they deliver to and for. In fact, both men had met each other there as delivery boys. To the owner’s surprise, both hit it off pretty well. Too well to the point that they started dating.

The walk out of the park and into the autumn street was quiet, way quieter than it was supposed to be. The street was bustling, there were cars honking their horns and bicycles ringing their bells, but it was all ear-splitting silence with Y/N. After dating him for seven weeks, and knowing him for even more, he was sure his boyfriend was always bubbly and upbeat. But in this moment, something about his actions, or the lack thereof, said the exact opposite. And to be really honest, it made Changbin uneasy. He knew what he said had upset his partner. He wanted to apologize but was too afraid—to sound dumb and repetitive or to hurt his feelings even more. Which of the two was it? That he was unsure of.

“Good morning Mrs. Park!” Changbin greets, showing his dimples off as both boys enter the shop.

“Good morning!” Mrs. Park chirps back, raising her head towards both men, retracting the knife from the loaf she held. “Oh! Those must be the bread I ordered! Thank you for getting them, you know me, too old to walk all the way to the supplier. Too old to remember to do so too.” She laughs, putting the bread knife flat on the wooden cutting board as she shifts her gaze from Changbin to Y/N. “Oh! You can put that in the back.” Y/N nods as he drags his feet towards the back of the shop, slowly disappearing into its retro-ness.

The store’s aroma was always the same, the smell of lavender and the chilly air slapping them in the face whenever they went in. But Y/N’s aura wasn't. And Mrs. Park could tell.

“What’s up with him?” She asked, raising a brow, not really expecting the answer she would get.

“I asked him about that lime bracelet he has on all the time.” Changbin replies, sighing, “It’s… kinda dirty don't you think?”

“Oh.” is all she replies. She stays silent for an uncomfortable amount of time until Changbin realizes.

“I… didn’t do anything wrong, right?” He says, hoping for the best, “What is it any—”

“I think it would be better if you ask him yourself.”

“Well…” Changbin doubles back, “if it’s anything uncomfortable for him to share, then I won’t bug about it anymore. I don’t want to sacrifice his feelings for my curiosity.” He replies, unsure of what to think.

Mrs. Park nods and as if on queue, Y/N reappears and steps out the pantry, paper bags that were previously held by his hands gone. He smiles at the lady in her 40’s and heads straight to the door, leaving the scent of lavender and bread behind. Changbin follows suit, looking at Mrs. Park as she nods back, sending him a reassuring smile.

Changbin steps out into the breezy autumn eventide, hues of marigold and tangerine painting the afternoon skies like a canvas. Y/N trudged and crossed the street, entering back into the park, the aura much different from before. What was bright and warm this afternoon became darker and colder as the moon began its daily process: replacing the sun. What was once a yellow orb glowing high up in the sky was now just a small orange blob on the horizon, and on the opposite side of the colored canvas, a glimmering white crescent, slowly rising through the blue hues. Changbin found the indigo, azure, tangerine and marigold ombré charming, a sight he would never forget. Y/N spotted a nearby bench and sat down, his boyfriend taking the empty space beside him. They sat there for a while, staring at the moms telling their children to get off the swings so they can go home, and the hotdog vendor packing up and calling it a day. In a way, both the swings and the hotdogs reminded him of someone… special.

“I—” Y/N pauses, trying to rephrase his words once again, “I haven’t really told you about this,” he says, brushing his fingers ever so slightly over the lime fabric on his wrist, “gift.”

Changbin is confused, visually confused at that, but keeps quiet and lets him continue. “A friend of mine… gave this to me.” Y/N says, looking up towards the darkening skies, holding a tear back, “At first I thought it sucked, you know, the beads don’t look that nice. I didn’t see its value.” He said, face scrunching as he tries his hardest not to let a tear out. “So I didn’t wear it.” Changbin nods, unsure of what to say.

“He passed away a month later.” He fails to keep the cap on his bottled feelings on, a tear or two slipping out, “I found him in the bathtub, blood everywhere, and his face… oh his face,” Changbin wraps him in warmth, “it looked lifeless and yet so… sorrowful.” He says, clenching the left side of his shirt, more tears dripping down the side of his face, only to be dried up by the fabric of his boyfriend’s shirt, “I didn’t know that was possible.”

Changbin hugged and patted his back for a while until he calmed down, until he could finally form a proper sentence. “He helped me figure out and accept who I am.” Y/N says, the left side of his lip pulling up as his face forms a melancholic smile, “I didn’t realize it back then, but I wouldn’t have been so open with my sexuality now if it wasn’t for him.” Both stared up at the young night sky, the elegant stars beginning to show themselves. “I’ve worn this,” he says, fiddling with the dirty cotton frog in the center of the trinket, “since the day we buried him.”

Y/N lets a tear fall once again as he leans his head on Changbin’s shoulder, finding the closure he thought he’d already found months ago. “I loved him. Still do. I just wish he would've told me about his problems. Just wish he would’ve stuck around for a little longer.” Changbin nods once again, still unsure of what to say.

“But that was all in the past. There’s nothing I can do about it now.” Y/N says, ripping his eyes away from the lime bracelet, staring up at the midnight blue sky, the bijou stars twinkling in the distance, “Nothing but remember him with this ugly ass ornament.” Changbin looks into his eyes, confused.

“This ugly ass ornament that means the world to me.”

End.

-

𝙨𝙩𝙖𝙧𝙩𝙚𝙙: 01.15.21

𝙛𝙞𝙣𝙞𝙨𝙝𝙚𝙙: 01.21.21

[helloimnotfinethanks]

The Village Street, Edgar Allan Poe

In these rapid, restless shadows,          Once I walked at eventide,      When a gentle, silent maiden,          Walked in beauty at my side      She alone there walked beside me          All in beauty, like a bride.

Pallidly the moon was shining          On the dewy meadows nigh;      On the silvery, silent rivers,          On the mountains far and high      On the ocean's star-lit waters,          Where the winds a-weary die.

Slowly, silently we wandered      From the open cottage door,      Underneath the elm's long branches      To the pavement bending o'er;      Underneath the mossy willow      And the dying sycamore.

With the myriad stars in beauty      All bedight, the heavens were seen,      Radiant hopes were bright around me,      Like the light of stars serene;      Like the mellow midnight splendor      Of the Night's irradiate queen.

Audibly the elm-leaves whispered          Peaceful, pleasant melodies,      Like the distant murmured music          Of unquiet, lovely seas:      While the winds were hushed in slumber          In the fragrant flowers and trees.

Wondrous and unwonted beauty          Still adorning all did seem,      While I told my love in fables          'Neath the willows by the stream;      Would the heart have kept unspoken          Love that was its rarest dream!

Instantly away we wandered          In the shadowy twilight tide,      She, the silent, scornful maiden,          Walking calmly at my side,      With a step serene and stately,          All in beauty, all in pride.

Vacantly I walked beside her.          On the earth mine eyes were cast;      Swift and keen there came unto me          Ritter memories of the past      On me, like the rain in Autumn          On the dead leaves, cold and fast.

Underneath the elms we parted,          By the lowly cottage door;      One brief word alone was uttered          Never on our lips before;      And away I walked forlornly,          Broken-hearted evermore.

Slowly, silently I loitered,          Homeward, in the night, alone;      Sudden anguish bound my spirit,          That my youth had never known;      Wild unrest, like that which cometh          When the Night's first dream hath flown.

Now, to me the elm-leaves whisper          Mad, discordant melodies,      And keen melodies like shadows          Haunt the moaning willow trees,      And the sycamores with laughter          Mock me in the nightly breeze.

Sad and pale the Autumn moonlight          Through the sighing foliage streams;      And each morning, midnight shadow,          Shadow of my sorrow seems;      Strive, O heart, forget thine idol!          And, O soul, forget thy dreams!

[deck-of-cards-arc]

🃏-🌹

🌹 “Jacques?”

I could only see their blonde head flinch upon their name, before turning back to me

🃏 “Oh! Rose, sorry I must’ve woken you!”

🌹 “It’s fine. What about you?”

🃏 “Hehe, I just like to get up and early. Maybe a little too early, whoops!”

🌹 “Uhuh…”

🃏 “No worries! I’m okay. I have the sound of the water reminding me of the rain. I always enjoy the rain, splishing and splashing in the puddles. Like when I just a wee child too!”

I raised an eyebrow as Jacques giggled, it wasn't long before the laughter had died down. The sound faded, blended into trickling of water.

🃏 “Guess I don’t really fool anyone anymore, do I?”

🌹 “After your breakdown, maybe not. You know you don’t have to fake a smile for me.”

🃏 “Just, a force of habit, really”

🌹 “It’s okay, you can just…be honest with me right now.”

🃏 “Then, hmm, I guess…I could use a walk. This place is really stuffy, after all. There’s a bit of a problem with that.”

🌹 “And what’s that?”

🃏 “I…I don’t know where to go”

🌹 “…really?”

🃏 “I get lost easily, sometimes. I’m not exactly too bright with directions, not unles I’ve been here before. And everyone else is asleep so…”

🌹 “I can just teleport you out, but I have to tag along to bring you back.”

🃏 “It’s alright, it’s only a walk. Plus, it’ll be a quick bonding time for us”

🌹 “Heh, sure. C’mon.”

Crawling my body near the edge of the wooden frame, I placed a limp hand on their shoulder and snapped my fingers with the other. Just as they blinked, their heterochromatic eyes met the coloured night sky. The darkness above us, painted with blue and pale white streaks of midnight across the clouds. The soft luminance of the moon, coupled with the splatter and splash of the stars across the canvas. The breeze passing us by as we stood in front of the view of the village. Some lights were left on for the night owls, though the most had shut or began to shut their windows tight for the eventide. It was a gorgeous sight, one to be distracted by. And Jacques was completely enthralled, their eyes seemingly regaining the sparks they once had. Although, not as excitedly as I would've imagined, just a calm smile as they surveyed the sleepy town. The Joker-bound stood up from the grassy plain, bending back down to offer a hand. Naturally, I took it and let them pull me up to stand as well.

It was automatic, we began strolling the perimeter near view. How far we had walker, I wasn’t sure. All I could tell was that we made a considerable distance yet it felt mere second passing. I simply walked with my hands holding each other behind my back. The blonde skipped slowly, hopping from each spot of grass with satisfying crinkles. However, despite such playful behaviour, the silence was solemn. As if it were to send one’s condolences rather than enjoy the peaceful night outside. I clutched my own hand tighter upon such a thought, so I picked up my paces and scampered closer to Jacques.

🌹 “You seem to enjoy the outside a lot”

🃏 “Mhmm…I don’t think you know this about me, but my family is entirely made up of farmers. I practically grew up with nature as my third parent”

🌹 “Really? That's interesting trivia.”

🃏 “Yeah, it’s apparently a shock to many as well... I guess they envision me from a long line of warriors or noblemen, or something. Really, the Joker card can pick anybody…doesn't really matter as long as the card deems you fit to wield it”

🌹 “Does the card have a sort of consciousness then? It should have since it made the choice to pick you”

🃏 “I think so, maybe. Nobody really knows how these cards came to be, what gave them this power. Not even the Priests and Priestesses truly know the source of it all. And they dedicated years to learning these cards.”

🌹 “Hmm…”

🃏 “I don’t come from a family that bothers too much in this sort of stuff, so it’s a mystery as to why I was picked. But my fate was sealed anyway…”

They stop skipping, halting in their place. I stopped too. Taking an eye off the scenic spot, my ice blue gaze trailed to their hand. Holding the Joker card, possibly crushing it in their grasp.

🃏 “And I’ll have to bear the costs this power has. Until I die.”

The silence afterwards was just as crushing. I couldn’t really think of anything to say to alleviate the tension all of a sudden, at least not before Jacques's head perked up.

🃏 “Wait a minute, I know this stretch of land!”

In just a blink, they launched themselves into a full sprint towards the west. I barely had the bearings to run fast enough behind them. I didn’t even know where they decided to venture towards, not even sure where exactly my feet were stepping on. All was on m mind was simply catching up. Surprisingly so, I did manage to make some good headway before Jacques pulled the brakes and drifted through the soil. I was panting heavily until Jacques clamped my mouth. Just before I could retort, they shushed and pointed just far beyond the shrubbery. I poked my head of charcoal hair through, spotting a small field of soil. Raked, sowed and watered seemingly with love and care. Tiny dots of green sprouts poked through the group, as far as I could see. A barn with fenced-in cattle and poultry situated just beside the field. Along with a smaller house a few feet further away. The town was just a drive away, or rather a horse ride away. Amongst the flat field, was a lone farmer, tending to a small plant. Whoever it was, it seemed to bring Jacques a wide smile.

🌹 “Is this…”

🃏 “Home.”

🌹 “Wait, so this town is YOUR hometown?”

🃏 “That’s why the resistance is here, this is the only place that wasn’t afraid to let us stay. All the other towns were fearful that the Rouge Kingdom attack them. But here, everyone knows that I’m ‘amazing’ and ‘undefeatable’, or something”

🌹 “Guess they idolise you too, huh?”

🃏 “In a more a way your parents would be proud of you for achieving something grand. Still hurts to be treated like prize more than anything.”

🌹 “Do you want to say hi to your parents? We have time”

🃏 “No, at least not at this hour. Papa likes to work late but it gets him sort of cranky. Plus all that work does a bit on his back, so he can get extra mad too. So we just leave him be to sleep at night. I’ll visit them in the morning, no worries.”

🌹 “How old are they? You’re twenty now, right?”

🃏 “They’re uhm…around fifty? Or younger, maybe. My my, it’s been a while since I counted their ages, oh no”

🌹 “So they’re on their own without you?”

🃏 “It's not like they're completely alone, I have siblings. Even then,  I didn’t want to leave, they just decided for me. I just had to smile for them as they wished me well and sent me off.”

I heard the rustling of the foliage and fingers tracing the dirt just beside me, causing me to turn my head back to Jacques

🃏 “I guess everyone changes when they’re around me. I’m the chosen hero of the lands, after all. I was fated to bring hope, peace, balance…To bring a smile to everyone's faces”

🌹 “You’ve never been given a choice in any part of this. Even far beyond being the Joker…”

🃏 “I was chosen for a reason. All Jokers are chosen for a reason. My reason is that I’m good of heart, I can't just reject the choice to be the hero of the lands. Not when it saves lives. And it has”

🌹 “Still, you were pushed into this life, driven away from your home. You had to put on the persona of the Joker by force. Hasn’t it hurt you?”

🃏 “I…I don’t regret becoming the Joker, Rose… I met so many friends through my journies…but…”

🌹 “But?”

🃏 “…But…it has hurt me in more ways than one. I miss my home, I miss my parents, I miss my siblings, I want to just come here without the threat of war down my neck. I just want to help out on the farm, just like I wanted since I was a kid. I don’t want people thinking so much of me. S-so many eyes, so m-many standards, so m-many t-things to think about a-all the time…”

Their legs curled up to their chest, blond head ducked into their knees. Without their beanie, their locks simply flowed in the gentle wind as soft sobs began to gain volume. I kneeled in front of them, pulling them into a tight but breathable hug. Arms wrapped around their fragile form, shivering in my grasp. It didn’t take too long for them to hug back, their arms weak but enough to hug back. Their face laid against my shoulder, I didn’t mind a few tear stains on my shirt anyways. Rubbing their back, patting their head, softly whispering comfort, all the like. I wasn’t going to mind. They needed some release after today…after so many years. How could I deny them of that? So there they were, curled up in my hold until no more tears dripped from their eyes. In the gentle, still night…I let them relax. Let the ambience of the midnight lull them away from the worries for tomorrow. For now, it wasn’t time to think about being the Joker. For now, it was just Jacques and me under the glow of the stars.

 > Next morning

[jacquelineelainegomez]

Chief Seattle's speech

"Yonder sky has wept tears of compassion on our fathers for centuries untold, and which, to us, looks eternal, may change. Today it is fair, tomorrow it may be overcast with clouds. My words are like the stars that never set. What Seattle says, the great chief, Washington [1], can rely upon, with as much certainty as our pale-face brothers can rely upon the return of the seasons. The son of the white chief says his father sends us greetings of friendship and good will. This is kind, for we know he has little need of our friendship in return, because his people are many. They are like the grass that covers the vast prairies, while my people are few, and resemble the scattering trees of a storm-swept plain. The great, and I presume also good, white chief sends us word that he wants to buy our lands but is willing to allow us to reserve enough to live on comfortably. This indeed appears generous, for the red man no longer has rights that he need respect, and the offer may be wise, also, for we are no longer in need of a great country.

"When our young men grow angry at some real or imaginary wrong, and disfigure their faces with black paint, their hearts, also, are disfigured and turn black, and then their cruelty is relentless and knows no bounds, and our old men are not able to restrain them. But let us hope that hostilities between the red-man and his pale-face brothers may never return. We would have everything to lose and nothing to gain. True it is, that revenge, with our young braves, is considered gain, even at the cost of their own lives, but old men who stay at home in times of war, and old women, who have sons to lose, know better.

"Our great father Washington, for I presume he is now our father as well as yours, since George has moved his boundaries to the north; our great and good father, I say, sends us word by his son, who, no doubt, is a great chief among his people, that if we do as he desires, he will protect us. His brave armies will be to us a bristling wall of strength, and his great ships of war will fill our harbors so that our ancient enemies far to the northward, the Simsiams and Hydas, will no longer frighten our women and old men. Then will he be our father and we will be his children.

"But can this ever be? Your God loves your people and hates mine; he folds his strong arms lovingly around the white man and leads him as a father leads his infant son, but he has forsaken his red children; he makes your people wax strong every day, and soon they will fill all the land; while my people are ebbing away like a fast-receding tide, that will never flow again. The white man's God cannot love his red children or he would protect them. They seem to be orphans and can look nowhere for help. How then can we become brothers? How can your father become our father and bring us prosperity and awaken in us dreams of returning greatness? Your God seems to us to be partial. He came to the white man. We never saw Him; never even heard His voice. He gave the white man laws, but He had no word for His red children whose teeming millions filled this vast continent as the stars fill the firmament. No, we are two distinct races and must ever remain so. There is little in common between us.

"The ashes of our ancestors are sacred and their final resting place is hallowed ground, while you wander away from the tombs of your fathers seemingly without regret. Your religion was written on tablets of stone by the iron finger of an angry God, lest you might forget it. The red man could never remember nor comprehend it. Our religion is the traditions of our ancestors, the dreams of our old men, given them by the great Spirit, and the visions of our sachems, and is written in the hearts of our people. Your dead cease to love you and the homes of their nativity as soon as they pass the portals of the tomb. They wander far off beyond the stars, are soon forgotten, and never return. Our dead never forget the beautiful world that gave them being. They still love its winding rivers, its great mountains and its sequestered vales, and they ever yearn in tenderest affection over the lonely hearted living and often return to visit and comfort them. Day and night cannot dwell together. The red man has ever fled the approach of the white man, as the changing mists on the mountain side flee before the blazing morning sun. However, your proposition seems a just one, and I think that my folks will accept it and will retire to the reservation you offer them, and we will dwell apart in peace, for the words of the great white chief seem to be the voice of nature speaking to my people out of the thick darkness that is fast gathering around them like a dense fog floating inward from a midnight sea.

"It matters but little where we pass the remainder of our days. They are not many. The Indian's night promises to be dark. No bright star hovers about the horizon. Sad-voiced winds moan in the distance. Some grim Nemesis of our race is on the red man's trail, and wherever he goes he will still hear the sure approaching footsteps of the fell destroyer and prepare to meet his doom, as does the wounded doe that hears the approaching footsteps of the hunter.

"A few more moons, a few more winters, and not one of all the mighty hosts that once filled this broad land or that now roam in fragmentary bands through these vast solitudes will remain to weep over the tombs of a people once as powerful and as hopeful as your own. But why should we repine? Why should I murmur at the fate of my people? Tribes are made up of individuals and are no better than they. Men come and go like the waves of the sea. A tear, a tamanamus, a dirge, and they are gone from our longing eyes forever. Even the white man, whose God walked and talked with him, as friend to friend, is not exempt from the common destiny. We may be brothers, after all. We shall see.

"We will ponder your proposition, and when we have decided we will tell you. But should we accept it, I here and now make this the first condition: That we will not be denied the privilege, without molestation, of visiting at will the graves of our ancestors and friends. Every part of this country is sacred to my people. Every hill-side, every valley, every plain and grove has been hallowed by some fond memory or some sad experience of my tribe. Even the rocks that seem to lie dumb as they swelter in the sun along the silent seashore in solemn grandeur thrill with memories of past events connected with the fate of my people, and the very dust under your feet responds more lovingly to our footsteps than to yours, because it is the ashes of our ancestors, and our bare feet are conscious of the sympathetic touch, for the soil is rich with the life of our kindred. The noble braves, and fond mothers, and glad-hearted maidens, and the little children who lived and rejoiced here, and whose very names are now forgotten, still love these solitudes, and their deep fastnesses at eventide grow shadowy with the presence of dusky spirits. And when the last red man shall have perished from the earth and his memory among white men shall have become a myth, these shores shall swarm with the invisible dead of my tribe, and when your children's children shall think themselves alone in the field, the store, the shop, upon the highway or in the silence of the woods they will not be alone. In all the earth there is no place dedicated to solitude. At night, when the streets of your cities and villages shall be silent and you think them deserted, they will throng with the returning hosts that once filled and still love this beautiful land. The white man will never be alone. Let him be just and deal kindly with my people, for the dead are not altogether powerless."

[castellankurze]

A Completely Normal Team-Up

So you know how oftentimes an anime gets an OVA or a movie that takes place...somewhere in its continuity, but nobody’s quite sure where, it probably messes with continuity but someone had an idea for a standalone story so by god they wedged in in there somehow? Well, consider this to be Completely Normal RPG getting its own OVA release.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Miyumi was the first one taken by the creature.

Later on, Shouko, attempting to lighten the mood, joked that it did so because it was smart.  While there might have been a kernel of truth in the statement, when everything came out in the end it also inadvertently hid the thing's true motivation.

------------------------

In truth there had been others attacked beforehand, but they had been left at the site of their assault, all of them bone-weary and exhausted, none able to describe whatever the thing was that had come after them.  Whatever it was, it struck at twilight three days in a row.  The school put out a warning of a flu going around, reacting to the aftereffects, but when the four of them got together the idea wasn't even dignified with a single repetition.

"A vampire of some kind?" Kanako proposed.

"Whatever it is, it's definitely draining its victims," Miyumi agreed with a stroke of her chin.

"But it's not drinking their blood or anything, just sapping their energy," Erika said from the counter where she was fixing a sandwich.  "Are there any beasts that just sort of...make people tired and move on?"

A quick call to Saika was no help.  "She says there's too many possibilities," Shouko said, waggling an unlit cigarette between her lips and ignoring a dirty look from Miyumi.  "She says to do the usual - just buddy up and never be alone and keep your eyes open."

So they did, and Miyumi was in the company of her boyfriend Shoji when dusk came at the end of the next day, but all told, the advice didn't seem to be much help.

"I barely saw it," Shoji murmured from his bed.  He was bruised and cut in a few places, but otherwise unharmed but for the same strange exhaustion that had overtaken the previous victims.  "There was a flash of headlights behind us, and then I thought someone was coming off the road to try and hit us.  After that I just saw stars."  Kanako tried to coax more information out of him, gently asking questions, but that seemed to be the limit of what he could remember.  Apart from that, Erika had to step in when he tried to rise from his bed as if to start looking for Miyumi then and there, easily keeping the boy down with a hand to his chest.

"You just focus on getting better," she said firmly.  "We'll find Miyumi."

The next morning, Shouko crossed paths with Shizuka when the latter stepped off the bus before class.  "You are on time for school today," the red-eyed girl noted quietly.

"You're a riot," Shouko replied, shrugging her motorcycle jacket over her shoulder and falling into step beside Shizuka.  "For real though, why would this thing take Miyumi when it just leaves everyone else all tired out?"

Shizuka shot the delinquent a sidelong glower, the kind she often employed on those who ought to know better.  "What distinguishes Miymui from the rest of them?" she asked curtly, and then walked on, ignoring Shouko's faltering steps behind her.

---------------

Erika and Kanako never made it home that night, but because it was a friday and Kana lived alone but for her cat Tsukiko, nobody realized what had happened until Shouko (in flagrant violation of Saika's warning not to travel alone) dropped by the house late the next afternoon to ask after the math homework they'd been assigned.  The door was unlocked, and she found nobody but a pitifully meowing Tsukiko who pointedly went to sit by her bowl.  After offering the cat a reassuring stroke and some food from the bag under the counter, Shouko sent a few queries by text, careful to sound innocuous.  When the inseparable pair didn't turn up anywhere, Shouko hurried out, and in the end she was almost fast enough.

Saika's phone buzzed and she picked it up with a chirp of "hi Shouko!"

"Don't talk just listen!  It's got Kana and Erika!" Shouko shouted back, sounding out of breath.  There was some kind of rhythmic pounding like a series of sledgehammers behind her voice.

"Shouko?!" Saika yelped, immediately disregarding her girlfriend's instruction standing with such haste she knocked her desk chair over.

"It's some kind of a machine!  It's got all kinds of random parts!  It's got...it's got a core shaped like a diamond made of mirrors!  It's got wings and they glow really bright!  I don't-"

Where was a sound of screeching metal and a moment later the line disconnected.  Saika stared at the little rectangle in disbelief for a moment before mashing redial and begging "pick up...please pick up..." but it was not to be.  The normally-bubbly blonde stood wide-eyed in the center of her room, staring past her phone at the far wall, paralyzed for a long moment with indecision.  Then, with trembling fingers, she dialed another number.

---------------------

"Hmmm," he mused after she relayed her description.  "'A diamond-shaped mirror' has sometimes been mentioned in the description of a creature called the mirrorknight."  The Baron of the Radiant Court paused, marshaling his thoughts.  "It is a type of golem which repairs and rebuilds itself with whatever materials may be present, but its heart is a single piece of silver polished to a mirror shine.  A long time ago there used to be quite a number of them, but they were unstable creations and would eventually go renegade."

"This one seems to be pretty renegade," Saika agreed, her voice shaky.  "Why would this one be kidnapping hunters?"

"Individuals have attacked members of the Court before, thought always in isolated incidents.  I'll look into the archives, and I will send someone to reinforce you as soon as possible.  I want you to be very careful, is that clear?"

"Yessir," Saika replied, and the call ended.  Saika looked out her window at the night sky and the lights of other houses across the street and beyond.  Then she looked back to her phone and, with a trembling thumb, scrolled through her contacts to a certain name whose number she had never dialed.

She took a deep breath.  She'd always tried to...be helpful.  Back up her friends.  Be there when they needed her - when Shouko needed her.  Be the guiding light.  She'd never...taken point, so to speak.  And certainly not like this.  This could get her into a lot of trouble.  A lot.  But the night was coming on, and it was getting cold, and Miyumi had been gone for over two whole days at this point, and it could be...some time before another member of the Radiant Court could be pulled from their current duty and sent to help.  And every passing moment meant all four of them were out there, somewhere, in trouble...

"Hey, by the way, you should add this to your contacts."

"Shouko, she'll me really angry you gave me her number."

"Nah, she said it was okay."

"Did she really?"

"Well, you know, I sort of ran it by her and she kind of grunted the way she does.  Look, just save it for a major emergency, okay?"

Her phone's screen started to grey out, and Saika swallowed hard, raised her thumb high, brought it down on the dial icon.

One ring.

Two.

"Hello," answered Shizuka's deadpan voice.

"We need to talk," Saika said.

----------------------

They met at the sports field by the school, a wide-open place not far from the building's lights.  The representative of the Eventide Vanguard came armed, of course, her katana belted at her side, and Saika tried to keep her fingers from twitching, fighting the urge to summon her bow, just to have it ready.

It was a long moment before either of them spoke - Shizuka stood with her arms crossed, her red-eyed gaze unwavering, while Saika chewed her lip, searching for the right words.  Finally she gave up and just repeated everything that had happened, relaying everything Shouko had had time to tell her over the phone and the resulting information given to her by the Baron.

When she was done, Shizuka lowered her gaze and closed her eyes for a moment.  "You could face severe consequences for this, Oishi," she commented dryly.  "It could be seen as consorting with the enemy."

Saika spread her arms and shrugged.  "I can't...just wait," she said, hearing the plaintive tone in her own voice.

Shizuka uncrossed her arms and rested one hand at her sword's sheath, idly popping the katana's hilt with her thumb and holding it for a moment before clicking it back into place, her lips pursed, her gaze directed past Saika's shoulder rather than on her face.  "The Vanguard's knowledge of the mirrorknight states that it's core is designed as a mirror because it was intended to be a reactive force," she suddenly stated.  "It absorbs energy for fuel, and when it drinks power from a certain element it alters its own base nature to turn that energy against its foes."

"So when Shouko described its wings as glowing-" Saika realized with growing horror.

"It has likely absorbed magic from both Kanako and Erika, which would give it a strong light aspect," Shizuka confirmed.

"We can't wait for backup," Saika blurted, and as Shizuka raised an eyebrow she balled her fists and stamped a foot.  "Either of us.  You know I'm right, Miyasato.  Every minute they're out there that thing is draining more and more from them.  What if it doesn't stop like it did with the other people it attacked.  What if it drains everything?"

"You are willing to put everything on the line in the event of that possibility," Shizuka said, her red-eyed gaze once more pinned to Saika's own green pair.

"Aren't you?" Saika rejoined, and Shizuka lowered her eyes, thumb toying with the hilt of her katana again.  Saika took a bracing breath and then turned on the ball of one foot, thrusting out a hand towards her opposite number.  "Night's fallen," she said, her voice low and firm.  "Day and twilight are both behind us.  And they'll come again in the morning.  But for tonight there are people who need saving.  Our friends.  And I'm...I'm not asking you to like me, Miyasato.  But...just for one night.  For our friends."

Shizuka eyed the proffered hand for a long moment.  "A two-person band," she mused.  Then she reached out and clasped Saika's hand.  The pair squeezed.

"So...um, now we just need to find it," Saika realized lamely.

Shizuka favored her with one of her barely-there smirks.  "Shouko said it was made of random parts. Where else do machines go to die and be reborn, Oishi?"

--------------------

Kanako's screaming filled the junkyard, but nobody had come running in the last day, and nobody came running now.

She thrashed in her restraints as their captor leaned close and opened its maw which, not already enough of a science-fiction nightmare made as it was of mashing metal parts, was full of discarded sawblades that whirled and struck sparks from one another when the bottom set glanced off the ones on the top.  But instead of biting into the hapless girl, the machine seemed to inhale, and from Kanako's body a haze of glimmering light took form only to be drawn away as if by some manner of whirlpool, pulled inexorably into the machine-beast's mouth.  It arched, like a predator swallowing a particularly juicy morsel, its wings twitching and glimmering as the hope it drained from its captive suffused its body.

The thing that had taken them was the size of a bear, and walked on a pair of legs made from pistons and car axles, its arms cobbled together from cast-offs from the construction equipment manufacturing plant and spliced into grabbing claws.  Its posture was hunched and predatory, its eyes a set of headlights stolen from the hulk of a bus, which explained why Shoji had thought some nutcase was about to run him and Miyumi down.  

The wings that jutted from its body were the only thing that didn't seem to have come from the scrapyard - a set of blade-like triple-pointed razor-sharp limbs that extended almost ten feet in either direction and which, for the last day, had been glowing with an ever more intense light as it sucked the energy from its captives.

Kanako struggled to catch her breath as the thing finally seemed to take its fill and stepped away, rumbling, shaking her head and coughing.  "I knew this war between hunters and the twilight was going to crazy when I signed up, but I didn't think every other monster out there was going to try and eat us!" she wailed, sobbing a bit though by now her cheeks were try, with only the tracks left by the tears from earlier in the day.

"It...it's going to be okay," Miyumi murmured from her position sat against the wall.  The sorceress could barely keep her head up, deep bags under both eyes after fully two days with little more than a few drops of water.  The machine-creature had fashioned crude manacles from rebar and steel beams, driving them into the concrete wall against the back of the junkyard to pin the foursome's legs and hands in place.  Even Erika's fearsome strength had managed little more than to earn a bit of wiggle room.  "We will...figure something..out."

"Keep your eyes open, Miyumi!" Erika cried out.  "Don't fall asleep on us!  Um...what's forty times twenty-three?"

"Nnn...nine hundred and twenty," Miymui replied after a few moments' hesitation.

"Shouko are you sure you got through?" Erika asked for what had to be the hundredth time.

For the last hour Shouko had been trying to use the toe of her boot to grab purchase on an iron bar that rested by her feet, hoping she would be able to somehow lever open the rebar that held her pinned.  "Uh huh," she replied.  "I heard her answer.  C'mon...c'monnnnnn..."  With a soft squeak of triumph she managed to get her toe underneath the end of the bar and worked it up a couple inches, just enough to maneuver her feet to pin the bar between her insteps, drawing it from the ground towards her.

"Shouko, watch-" Kanako started to warn her, but a steel claw shot forwards to grab the bar and yanked it violently away from the would-be escapee.  Shouko yelped, having been so utterly focused on her task she hadn't noticed the golem turning back around towards them.  It leaned close, opening up its sawblade mouth and hissing steam in warning.  Shouko screamed back.

"Get away from her you...you b-jerk!" a voice cried out, and the golem reared, turning with awkward grace to find whatever interloper had called it out.

[...]

The pair stood side-by-side.  Shizuka's katana was already drawn and laid across her shoulders, its eldritch glow alight.  Beside her, Saika had her bow summoned and a gleaming golden arrow put to the shimmering string.

"Machines are meant to make lives easier and take the weight from the backs of working people," Shizuka growled.  "A malfunctioning beast like you has no right to turn such devices to the purpose of inflicting harm upon innocents."

"We won't let you hurt anyone else," Saika echoed.  "We might be like night and day ourselves, but even at the bottom of the night people deserve to dream of tomorrow, and when a new day breaks, that's all that'll be left of you - a bad dream!"  With that she drew her bow and fired her arrow, her aim dead-on between the mirrorknight's eyes.  But when the magical projectile struck the golem, it merely shattered and vanished, and the creature's wings only seemed to glow even brighter than before as it gnashed its sawblade teeth.

"Saika no, it's tuned itself to light energy!" Kanako cried out.  "You won't be able to hurt it like that!"

"So if it's full of light energy," Saika mused, glancing to her side even as the mirrorknight shook itself and began to pound towards the pair.  "Do you...?"

"Don't mind if I do," the Eventide representative growled and leapt forward, long skirts billowing about her legs as she ran to meet the beast halfway, her katana striking sparks from its claws as they met and she parried, dodged, and struck.  The energised blade cut into the morass of scrap that composed the mirrorknight's body, and it flashed in a brief, sudden coruscation of wild magic and drew back, snapping in bestial rage.  It lunged and bit, swiping with its claws, and dealt Shizuka a glancing blow with one hand, making her cry out and drop back.

Saika was at her back a moment later, her hand reaching out for Shizuka's shoulder, and in the space of a heartbeat the wound closed as if it had never been.  "I can still back you up like this," she assured the other girl, and squeezed, imparting a measure of energy.

Shizuka lifted a hand and, with a sudden burst of inhuman speed, threw out her arm and from the air exploded a set of chains as black as night that lashed out and tangled around the mirrorknight's limbs.  Splaying her fingers, the Eventide warrior threw a hail of thorns equally black that sank into the golem's armored hide with no more resistance than pins through a sheet of paper.  The renegade creation thrashed and lifted up into the air, letting loose an unearthly howling noise, and the glow of its wings intensified with a suddenness that left Saika with barely enough time to shout "watch out!" before searing beams of light erupted in every direction, carving through the air and leaving scorch marks where they passed.

Shizuka's chains failed and burst, but even so as the mirrorknight dropped back to the ground she was there, rushing forward with another reckless cut of her blade, carving deep into its flank, and again setting off the shudder of pain and the flashing, wild release of energy.  Then the thing kicked out and caught her in the midsection, lifting her from her feet and sending her flying through the air.  Saika rushed to her side when she came down, healing her once more, but rather than take advantage of the moment, the mirrorknight shuddered, and without warning its belly parted, affording them a glimpse of the diamond-shaped core housed within its torso, a perfect octohedron poised to a mirror shine.

Then the light that had sprayed forth from the golem's wings faded, replaced by a mounting inky blackness, dotted with distant pinpricks of light as if a void had opened into the night sky.  Helping Shizuka to her feet, Saika leveled her bow and summoned another arrow, firing at the creature once more and this time achieving the desired result, forcing it back a step as it howled injury.  "That's why you took Miyumi first," Saika realized.  "Because if you'd tried to fight both her and Kanako at the same time they could have just alternated what energy they hit you with.  She summoned another arrow, held it until it blazed with light, and fired, driving the berserk machine back another step.

Then, without warning, it charged, but in a heartbeat Shizuka was in front of her once more, the glow gone from her sword as she ceased to channel its enchantment, blocking steel with steel as the golem's claws screeched against the killing edge with no magical power to draw upon.  Together the unlikely pair faced down the cruel machine, Shizuka's protective blade turning aside the whirling sawblades and killing claws as Saika flexed her fingers and summoned up a triad of arrows, firing all three at once into the thing and making it reel, falling to its knees.

"That's right!  You’ve got nothing!" Saika cheered, pumping a fist.  "You never expected a pair like us to team up, did you?  Always striking at one or the other; you've got nothing when we work together!"

"Oishi," Shizuka warned.

The golem had managed to clamber up to one knee, its torso once mroe opening to display the pristine mirror of its core as the darkness faded from its wings, leaving perfectly-polished steel in its wake.

Then it closed a claw, and a long blade of fire erupted into the air.

"......o-oh," Saika whined, belatedly remembering not everyone had powers neatly categorized into light and dark.

The machine lashed out with what power it had managed to steal from Shouko, but with a snap-hiss of energy Shizuka had stepped in to block the blow, driven a foot back from the sheer strength behind it.  The machine lashed out again and the pair separated as the blade came down between them.

"What do we do now?  I don't know any ice spells!" Saika cried out, firing another pair of arrows that thunked into the golem's armored hide.

"We do things the old-fashioned way," Shizuka said grimly, with a cut of her blade that sliced into the mirrorknight's other flank.

"Get 'em Saika!  I believe in you!" Shouko shouted.

"Take him down!" Erika chimed in.

"You can do it," Miyumi husked.

"We're all counting on you!" Kanako added her voice to the chorus.

Saika conjured one arrow after the other, putting them into the hulking brute's torso with determination, but seemed to accomplish little even as Shizuka chipped away at its limbs with her blade.  This was going to take all night, and Saika didn't have the energy to keep them healed if they took more injuries.  Then, as the golem twisted to try and hit Shizuka, Saika realized that its torso was still open, its core naked.  It had to be nearly out of energy, she realized.

"Miyasato!  Are you willing to trust me?" she cried out, hurrying once more to Shizuka's side.

"It's a little late for that question," Shizuka growled.

"The core," Saika said, and her opposite nubmer thinned her lips and nodded, setting herself.

The mirrorknight stamped its piston-legs, shook itself in animalistic fashion, and stepped forward, beginning to raise its flaming sword.

Saika shut her eyes as she summoned up every bit of energy she could conjure, her bow trembling in her hand as she fed everything into it, leaving herself utterly unguarded, but summoning up an arrow that seemingly glowed with the intensity of a risen sun.  Then, as the mirrorknight's sword reached the highest point of its arc, ready to crash down in a devastating blow, she dropped one foot back, braced, and pulled, firing towards the exposed core.

Shizuka threw her hand out and one of her ink-black chains short forth, latching onto the arrow in mid-flight and trailing behind it as it soared, sinking deep into the polished mirror surface of the golem's core, spidering cracks flowing out in every direction.  

The mirrorknight stumbled, frozen in the middle of its deathblow.

Shizuka closed her hand around the conjured chain, and Saika reached out to likewise grasp it, her own fingers closing on the blackened links just above Shizuka's own grip.  Ice flooded her all the way up the shoulder as she touched the shadowed conjuring, but she held on tight, teeth bared.

"Twilight marks the end of day," Shizuka murmured.

"But dawn always comes again!" Saika replied, and together they focused, sending a spiraling wave of alternating light and dark energy twisting down the length of the chain that sank into the cracks created by the arrow's strike and exploded forth, shattering the golem's core into hundreds of mirrored shards.  

The renegade machine let out a final howl and slowly toppled backwards, the flaming sword fading from its clawed grip as it struck the ground and shattered into its many constituent pieces, the spark of animation that had bound them into a hungering whole dispelled forevermore. As smoke rose from the hulking remnants, Shizuka straightened to lay her katana across her shoulders once more, eyes closed, and Saika couldn’t resist making a ‘v’ with the first two fingers of her freed hand, fingertips framing one eye. ------------------------

Erika had to carry Miyumi from the junkyard, Kanako patting her head and summoning what healing magics she could still call forth to stabilize her, promising food as soon as they could get home.  For her part, Shouko reached for a cigarette, but in deference to Miymui's condition she slid it away again and settled for hugging Saika tightly.

Still, as they exited the place Saika found a spare moment to drag her feet, slowing to walk alongside Shizuka and offering an awkward, but heartfelt smile.  "Thanks for trusting me," she said softly.

"Likewise, Oishi," Shizuka replied after a few moments, offering a faint smile in return.

"Maybe sometimes light and darkness don't always have to be in opposition, huh?" she asked softly.

"Perhaps," Shizuka allowed.  A moment of silence passed between them, then, "you may keep my phone number in your contacts.  In case another night should come in which neither the Court nor the Vanguard need know...quite everything."

Saika nodded.  "You can add mine to yours, too.  Just in case, like you say."

"Oishi."

"Miyasato."

"Hey, are you coming or what?" Shouko called from up ahead.

"Yes, just wait up!" Saika said, hustling after the others, and after a moment, Shizuka deigned to lengthen her stride as well so that she need not fall behind.

[livmoose]

Chamber Music

James Joyce

I

Strings in the earth and air Make music sweet; Strings by the river where The willows meet.

There's music along the river For Love wanders there, Pale flowers on his mantle, Dark leaves on his hair.

All softly playing, With head to the music bent, And fingers straying Upon an instrument.

II

The twilight turns from amethyst To deep and deeper blue, The lamp fills with a pale green glow The trees of the avenue.

The old piano plays an air, Sedate and slow and gay; She bends upon the yellow keys, Her head inclines this way.

Shy thought and grave wide eyes and hands That wander as they list -- The twilight turns to darker blue With lights of amethyst.

III

At that hour when all things have repose, O lonely watcher of the skies, Do you hear the night wind and the sighs Of harps playing unto Love to unclose The pale gates of sunrise?

When all things repose, do you alone Awake to hear the sweet harps play To Love before him on his way, And the night wind answering in antiphon Till night is overgone?

Play on, invisible harps, unto Love, Whose way in heaven is aglow At that hour when soft lights come and go, Soft sweet music in the air above And in the earth below.

IV

When the shy star goes forth in heaven All maidenly, disconsolate, Hear you amid the drowsy even One who is singing by your gate. His song is softer than the dew And he is come to visit you.

O bend no more in revery When he at eventide is calling. Nor muse: Who may this singer be Whose song about my heart is falling? Know you by this, the lover's chant, 'Tis I that am your visitant.

V

Lean out of the window, Goldenhair, I hear you singing A merry air.

My book was closed, I read no more, Watching the fire dance On the floor.

I have left my book, I have left my room, For I heard you singing Through the gloom.

Singing and singing A merry air, Lean out of the window, Goldenhair.

VI

I would in that sweet bosom be (O sweet it is and fair it is!) Where no rude wind might visit me. Because of sad austerities I would in that sweet bosom be.

I would be ever in that heart (O soft I knock and soft entreat her!) Where only peace might be my part. Austerities were all the sweeter So I were ever in that heart.

VII

My love is in a light attire Among the apple-trees, Where the gay winds do most desire To run in companies.

There, where the gay winds stay to woo The young leaves as they pass, My love goes slowly, bending to Her shadow on the grass;

And where the sky's a pale blue cup Over the laughing land, My love goes lightly, holding up Her dress with dainty hand.

VIII

Who goes amid the green wood With springtide all adorning her? Who goes amid the merry green wood To make it merrier?

Who passes in the sunlight By ways that know the light footfall? Who passes in the sweet sunlight With mien so virginal?

The ways of all the woodland Gleam with a soft and golden fire -- For whom does all the sunny woodland Carry so brave attire?

O, it is for my true love The woods their rich apparel wear -- O, it is for my own true love, That is so young and fair.

IX

Winds of May, that dance on the sea, Dancing a ring-around in glee From furrow to furrow, while overhead The foam flies up to be garlanded, In silvery arches spanning the air, Saw you my true love anywhere? Welladay! Welladay! For the winds of May! Love is unhappy when love is away!

X

Bright cap and streamers, He sings in the hollow: Come follow, come follow, All you that love. Leave dreams to the dreamers That will not after, That song and laughter Do nothing move.

With ribbons streaming He sings the bolder; In troop at his shoulder The wild bees hum. And the time of dreaming Dreams is over -- As lover to lover, Sweetheart, I come.

XI

Bid adieu, adieu, adieu, Bid adieu to girlish days, Happy Love is come to woo Thee and woo thy girlish ways -- The zone that doth become thee fair, The snood upon thy yellow hair,

When thou hast heard his name upon The bugles of the cherubim Begin thou softly to unzone Thy girlish bosom unto him And softly to undo the snood That is the sign of maidenhood.

XII

What counsel has the hooded moon Put in thy heart, my shyly sweet, Of Love in ancient plenilune, Glory and stars beneath his feet -- A sage that is but kith and kin With the comedian Capuchin?

Believe me rather that am wise In disregard of the divine, A glory kindles in those eyes Trembles to starlight. Mine, O Mine! No more be tears in moon or mist For thee, sweet sentimentalist.

XIII

Go seek her out all courteously, And say I come, Wind of spices whose song is ever Epithalamium. O, hurry over the dark lands And run upon the sea For seas and lands shall not divide us My love and me.

Now, wind, of your good courtesy I pray you go, And come into her little garden And sing at her window; Singing: The bridal wind is blowing For Love is at his noon; And soon will your true love be with you, Soon, O soon.

XIV

My dove, my beautiful one, Arise, arise! The night-dew lies Upon my lips and eyes.

The odorous winds are weaving A music of sighs: Arise, arise, My dove, my beautiful one!

I wait by the cedar tree, My sister, my love, White breast of the dove, My breast shall be your bed.

The pale dew lies Like a veil on my head. My fair one, my fair dove, Arise, arise!

XV

From dewy dreams, my soul, arise, From love's deep slumber and from death, For lo! the trees are full of sighs Whose leaves the morn admonisheth.

Eastward the gradual dawn prevails Where softly-burning fires appear, Making to tremble all those veils Of grey and golden gossamer.

While sweetly, gently, secretly, The flowery bells of morn are stirred And the wise choirs of faery Begin (innumerous!) to be heard.

XVI

O cool is the valley now And there, love, will we go For many a choir is singing now Where Love did sometime go. And hear you not the thrushes calling, Calling us away? O cool and pleasant is the valley And there, love, will we stay.

XVII

Because your voice was at my side I gave him pain, Because within my hand I held Your hand again.

There is no word nor any sign Can make amend -- He is a stranger to me now Who was my friend.

XVIII

O Sweetheart, hear you Your lover's tale; A man shall have sorrow When friends him fail.

For he shall know then Friends be untrue And a little ashes Their words come to.

But one unto him Will softly move And softly woo him In ways of love.

His hand is under Her smooth round breast; So he who has sorrow Shall have rest.

XIX

Be not sad because all men Prefer a lying clamour before you: Sweetheart, be at peace again -- Can they dishonour you?

They are sadder than all tears; Their lives ascend as a continual sigh. Proudly answer to their tears: As they deny, deny.

XX

In the dark pine-wood I would we lay, In deep cool shadow At noon of day.

How sweet to lie there, Sweet to kiss, Where the great pine-forest Enaisled is!

Thy kiss descending Sweeter were With a soft tumult Of thy hair.

O unto the pine-wood At noon of day Come with me now, Sweet love, away.

XXI

He who hath glory lost, nor hath Found any soul to fellow his, Among his foes in scorn and wrath Holding to ancient nobleness, That high unconsortable one -- His love is his companion.

XXII

Of that so sweet imprisonment My soul, dearest, is fain -- Soft arms that woo me to relent And woo me to detain. Ah, could they ever hold me there Gladly were I a prisoner!

Dearest, through interwoven arms By love made tremulous, That night allures me where alarms Nowise may trouble us; But sleep to dreamier sleep be wed Where soul with soul lies prisoned.

XXIII

This heart that flutters near my heart My hope and all my riches is, Unhappy when we draw apart And happy between kiss and kiss: My hope and all my riches -- yes! -- And all my happiness.

For there, as in some mossy nest The wrens will divers treasures keep, I laid those treasures I possessed Ere that mine eyes had learned to weep. Shall we not be as wise as they Though love live but a day?

XXIV

Silently she's combing, Combing her long hair Silently and graciously, With many a pretty air.

The sun is in the willow leaves And on the dappled grass, And still she's combing her long hair Before the looking-glass.

I pray you, cease to comb out, Comb out your long hair, For I have heard of witchery Under a pretty air,

That makes as one thing to the lover Staying and going hence, All fair, with many a pretty air And many a negligence.

XXV

Lightly come or lightly go: Though thy heart presage thee woe, Vales and many a wasted sun, Oread let thy laughter run, Till the irreverent mountain air Ripple all thy flying hair.

Lightly, lightly -- ever so: Clouds that wrap the vales below At the hour of evenstar Lowliest attendants are; Love and laughter song-confessed When the heart is heaviest.

XXVI

Thou leanest to the shell of night, Dear lady, a divining ear. In that soft choiring of delight What sound hath made thy heart to fear? Seemed it of rivers rushing forth From the grey deserts of the north?

That mood of thine Is his, if thou but scan it well, Who a mad tale bequeaths to us At ghosting hour conjurable -- And all for some strange name he read In Purchas or in Holinshed.

XXVII

Though I thy Mithridates were, Framed to defy the poison-dart, Yet must thou fold me unaware To know the rapture of thy heart, And I but render and confess The malice of thy tenderness.

For elegant and antique phrase, Dearest, my lips wax all too wise; Nor have I known a love whose praise Our piping poets solemnize, Neither a love where may not be Ever so little falsity.

XXVIII

Gentle lady, do not sing Sad songs about the end of love; Lay aside sadness and sing How love that passes is enough.

Sing about the long deep sleep Of lovers that are dead, and how In the grave all love shall sleep: Love is aweary now.

XXIX

Dear heart, why will you use me so? Dear eyes that gently me upbraid, Still are you beautiful -- but O, How is your beauty raimented!

Through the clear mirror of your eyes, Through the soft sigh of kiss to kiss, Desolate winds assail with cries The shadowy garden where love is.

And soon shall love dissolved be When over us the wild winds blow -- But you, dear love, too dear to me, Alas! why will you use me so?

XXX

Love came to us in time gone by When one at twilight shyly played And one in fear was standing nigh -- For Love at first is all afraid.

We were grave lovers. Love is past That had his sweet hours many a one; Welcome to us now at the last The ways that we shall go upon.

XXXI

O, it was out by Donnycarney When the bat flew from tree to tree My love and I did walk together; And sweet were the words she said to me.

Along with us the summer wind Went murmuring -- O, happily! -- But softer than the breath of summer Was the kiss she gave to me.

XXXII

Rain has fallen all the day. O come among the laden trees: The leaves lie thick upon the way Of memories.

Staying a little by the way Of memories shall we depart. Come, my beloved, where I may Speak to your heart.

XXXIII

Now, O now, in this brown land Where Love did so sweet music make We two shall wander, hand in hand, Forbearing for old friendship' sake, Nor grieve because our love was gay Which now is ended in this way.

A rogue in red and yellow dress Is knocking, knocking at the tree; And all around our loneliness The wind is whistling merrily. The leaves -- they do not sigh at all When the year takes them in the fall.

Now, O now, we hear no more The vilanelle and roundelay! Yet will we kiss, sweetheart, before We take sad leave at close of day. Grieve not, sweetheart, for anything -- The year, the year is gathering.

XXXIV

Sleep now, O sleep now, O you unquiet heart! A voice crying "Sleep now" Is heard in my heart.

The voice of the winter Is heard at the door. O sleep, for the winter Is crying "Sleep no more."

My kiss will give peace now And quiet to your heart -- Sleep on in peace now, O you unquiet heart!

XXXV

All day I hear the noise of waters Making moan, Sad as the sea-bird is when, going Forth alone, He hears the winds cry to the water's Monotone. The grey winds, the cold winds are blowing Where I go. I hear the noise of many waters Far below. All day, all night, I hear them flowing To and fro.

XXXVI

I hear an army charging upon the land, And the thunder of horses plunging, foam about their knees: Arrogant, in black armour, behind them stand, Disdaining the reins, with fluttering ships, the charioteers. They cry unto the night their battle-name: I moan in sleep when I hear afar their whirling laughter. They cleave the gloom of dreams, a blinding flame, Clanging, clanging upon the heart as upon an anvil. They come shaking in triumph their long, green hair: They come out of the sea and run shouting by the shore. My heart, have you no wisdom thus to despair? My love, my love, my love, why have you left me alone?

[plantaetae]

Butterfly

◇ pairing: Jungkook | Taehyung ◇ genre: fluff, soft angst, childhood friends! au ◇ word count: 3,350 ◇ author’s note: Written in celebration of both Taehyung’s birthday and my one year anniversary with BTS, with love.

It was in summer. That summer with the bluest sky he’d ever seen, that summer that was the most green and gold, overgrown with flowers in their fullest bloom and cooled by the gentlest rain showers. It was in the summer that Taehyung shared his most precious secret.

On that day in particular the sky was unmarred by clouds, and the sun free to radiate its brilliance to its full capacity. There was hardly a breeze to soothe the shimmering heat or a sound besides the cicadas and Taehyung’s bare feet slapping against burning pavement. A leap over a large anthill and he was once again on grass that was badly in need of care. He didn't mind though, didn't even notice how it stuck between his toes and tickled his mosquito bitten legs as he ran through it, around the weathered fence to the gate that never latched properly. He pushed it on its rusted hinges to continue his sprint right into his friend’s backyard. Emptiness greeted him, together with that same stillness that came with summer days, and Taehyung answered back with an apple cheeked smile and altogether too much energy for such heat. His attention turned then, to the oak tree in the far corner. It was a gargantuan creature, reaching its leafy fingers and lending its shade as far as the sagging back porch. Taehyung instantly and unabashedly bounded right up to its massive base. Of course his first thought was to climb it, but he remembered being told the tree was almost a hundred years old, then remembered the one time he tried climbing on his grandfather's back and how it popped. Instead, he settled for putting his palms flat against the rugged bark, peering up between the branches, calling out with all the strength of voice his eight-year-old self could summon, “Jungkook! Are you up there? I have something to show you.”

There was a pause in which Taehyung held his breath, then a shy rustling of leaves before Jungkook's tentative reply came echoing between the branches, "Is it another bug?"

"Nope, it's way better," Taehyung rocked on the balls of his feet, tapping out a pattern on the trunk, “I promise,”

"What is it?"

"Just come down and I'll show you. I have to take you there,"

A moment of deliberation on Jungkook’s part before he cautiously descended through branches, down the tree until he landed on mossy roots. He turned and his gaze met Taehyung's earnestly, "I have to be home by dinner,” he warned. Taehyung nodded furiously and grabbed the younger's hand, pulling him out the gate and around the fence, down the shady slope to the creek.

Jungkook looked down the familiar path and then incredulously at his friend, "Taehyung, is this what you wanted me to see? I've been to the creek a million times-”

"No, it’s down the creek. Just wait, Kookie," Taehyung led him along the sand and rocks of the bank, never letting go of the younger's hand.

They followed the water where it flowed behind the yards of their neighborhood, past the cul de sac at the end of the street and on into the woods surrounding their town; a path Taehyung had walked dozens of times, but to Jungkook it was a novelty. They walked and walked, and stopped to splash each other where one creek met another and both widened into what a little boy would consider a river, then walked more. Birds sang high above them and all around nature thrived in its vibrantly green, living way, knowing in the wiseness of its core that the two friends were, in their own way, as much apart of it as the growing things or scampering critters.

They kept steadily along through the brush and growth, chattering absentmindedly until at last there was more blue than green overhead and the patches of sunlight on the forest floor widened as the trees thinned out. Then all at once, as if they had stumbled through a portal, they were out of the trees. Jungkook’s breath caught in his throat, his vivid eyes filled with wonder. Stretching out before them was a clearing, almost a perfect circle, lined by trees. Tall, golden-green grass billowed and rolled like ocean waves, butterflies fluttered airily among myriads of vibrant wildflowers and the river, pellucid as glass, carved its way down the center. Bright, silver and gold fish danced in the water, their scales catching the sun like so many jewels, and dragonflies flew busily here and there. Repose breathed over the entire place, yet, simultaneously, it had a wild, untouched feeling about it.

Jungkook gazed around him, his boyish face radiant in wonderment, but Taehyung was already doubling his grip on the younger’s hand and tugging him forward, practically dragging the poor boy behind him. “We’re here!” he sang, dashing along the river bank with abandon, sending the crickets and grasshoppers scampering for their lives.The younger ran as hard as he could to keep up, but his legs were shorter than his friends, and by the time they reached the field’s center his breathing was heavy in his chest. The older let go of his hand, dancing off on his own and spinning through the waist-high grass, his arms outstretched and face towards the sky, singing tunelessly.

“Where’s here?” Jungkook asked bewildered and out of breath, leaning on his knees. “Where are we?”

Taehyung stopped abruptly. Jungkook looked up and he felt his heart quaver against his ribcage. His friend stood there smiling at him, dazzlingly, enchantingly, beautifully, bright enough to rival any star and murmured, “We’re in wonderland, Jungkook.”

He heard his name roll of Taehyung’s tongue, saw him with the backdrop of the sky and the way the wind played with the bangs splayed over his forehead. He had no idea what his friend was talking about, but he could say whatever nonsense he wanted if he'd keep smiling at Jungkook like that.

Suddenly Taehyung rushed forward with new sparks of mischief flying in his eyes and again grabbed the younger's hand, pulling him back towards the river. Jungkook staggered forward, kicking off his flip-flops at the last second before stumbling into the shallow water after Taehyung. Smooth pebbles crunched under his feet and dug into his toes, small water plants brushing against them, the water rippled around his legs, dampening the hem of his shorts as he waded into the middle of the stream. Excitedly, Taehyung dropped his voice to a  whisper, telling him to stand very, very still and stepped back a bit. Jungkook obeyed, but racked his brain for a time he'd ever seen Taehyung stand still. Now, however, his friend was as motionless as a statue, his sharp, cat-like eyes intent on the water.

Then Jungkook felt it. The sensation was so light it could almost be his imagination, but he felt it all the same. It vaguely tickled, like the tip of a feather brushing against his foot or a soft nibbling along his toes, making him want to giggle. At once he looked down and through the transparent water saw tiny, silvery fish circling his feet, curiously examining and harmlessly pecking. He squealed and wiggled his toes, sending the fish darting out of sight in a flash of scales catching sun.

"You have to stay still!" Taehyung scolded him, pouting, "If you move, you'll scare them,"

"But they tickle," Jungkook protested, digging his toes in the sand and kicking up little clouds of it.

“Kookie, quit it! They might not come back,” Jungkook held still at his friend’s pleading, guiltily watching the sand settle and the water clear once again. A minute or so passed in which Jungkook switched between watching his friend, who never took his gaze from the water, and watching for the little fish. It felt like an eternity and the itch to move ran up his spine, making him scrunch his nose. Finally a flash of silver caught his eye he felt the brush of fins on his ankle. Instantly he pushed down the urge to squirm and held his breath, Looking up to catch Taehyung’s gaze.

The older was smiling at him with that brilliant, sun-rivaling smile that reached all the way to his eyes, filling them with light that Jungkook could have sworn were galaxies. It took his breath away, literally, and he released the air he had been holding, his stomach turning over with some light, fizzy feeling, like it was filled with carbonated air or helium. He smiled back, his eyes crinkling up and, although he didn't know it, filled with sparkles so bright Taehyung was convinced in that moment that his best friend was made of stardust.

They stood there, where time went slower, under the sun and sky, watching the water creatures swim and the sunshine reflect through water like a prism. Jungkook listened to the wind humming through the grass, felt it across his cheek, heard the crickets and cicadas’ cacophony and the babbling song of the river and he wondered if Taehyung had really found wonderland.

They played for the better part of the afternoon, losing track of the day, losing track of themselves among the splashing and laughter. Amusement wasn't hard to find for two little boys, whether on land or in water

They discovered that there was a part in the river where the water deepened enough to swim, its clarity dissolving into the depths, and the boys made it a game to see who could touch the bottom. Both chickened out when the water became too dark to see in.

“Maybe a river dragon lives there, or a giant electric eel,” Taehyung mused and Jungkook nodded solemnly, gazing into the opaque water.

When they grew tired, they stretched out on the bank’s soft grass, fingers loosely tangled, morning glory vines curling around them like crowns. The crickets sang their eventide melodies, farewells to the sun and salutations to the moon as the sky was overtaken with lavender and rose gold. Not a moment was rushed, not a breath nor a heartbeat. Everything here was right, so, so very right. You could stay here forever and not think twice about it, and Jungkook wished more than anything that he never had to leave. He wondered what this place would look like at night. Would the stars shine brighter? Would he, if he stayed, be able to see the milky way? He voiced these thoughts to Taehyung, who, without opening his eyes, nodded and whispered a promise to bring him back after dark sometime. Jungkook closed his eyes too, heard the wind dance and river hum, let his heartbeat be his only movement and felt sleep’s gentle fingers creep over him. He was on the verge of drifting off when Taehyung broke the spell, “It’s almost dinner time,”

Jungkook’s stomach sank like a rock in water.

Silently, they made their way back to Jungkook's house, sometimes walking through the creek and sometimes on the bank, as the sun dropped and darkness settled in. Taehyung's silence didn't go unnoticed by his friend. Rarely was he this quiet, unless he had something on his mind. In times like those, Jungkook knew it was better to leave him to his thoughts, let them swirl and flow until Taehyung was satisfied he knew every corner and crevice of the problem. Then he would be back to his bubbly self. But Jungkook still wondered what lingered in the other's thoughts.

Soon enough, the old oak tree of Jungkook's back yard came into view, its shadow twisting eerily in the back porch light’s gold-green glow. A beacon of home, gnarled and unsightly, as if darkness gave it cover to let out its ugliness. Still the boys stood under it, not wanting to separate yet, but knowing they had to.

At last Jungkook spoke, "That place was your secret, right? It seemed really important to you..." Taehyung's eyes were a million times deeper in the faded light, looking older and wiser than his years, "Thank you for showing me, I won't tell anyone," Jungkook scratched behind his ear, avoiding those eyes that looked right into his soul.

"Promise?" Jungkook heard the solemness in the others voice and in equal seriousness held out his pinky, "Promise."

It was sealed there under the oak and a quick goodbye was said before Taehyung ran back to his house across the street. Watching his retreating silhouette, Jungkook realized that Taehyung hadn't been wearing any shoes this whole time.

Several days elapsed and Jungkook hadn't seen his friend since their goodbye under the oak, nor had he gone back to the clearing. But he couldn't stop thinking about it. Every night he laid in bed and closed his eyes, trying to keep his memories in vivid color, picturing the grass and water under his feet, the fish and crickets, the blue sky. He'd drift to sleep like that, lost in his imagination, troubles forgotten.

Tonight, though, he laid in bed with his eyes squeezed as tight as they could be, tear stains down his cheeks and his hands pressed over his ears, but he could still hear the yelling downstairs. The floor did nothing to mute his dad's booming voice and his mother's shriller one, ricocheting in a far too familiar screaming match. Jungkook listened helplessly, trapped, weak, bile rising in his throat. There was nothing he wanted more than to escape, to get as far away as he could. He wanted nothing more than to be back in the field where it was quiet, where there was no nightly fights or slammed doors. And he wanted Taehyung there, too.

Jungkook had never snuck out before that night. Silently, he slid his covers back and crept to the window, opening it painstakingly slow so it wouldn't creak, even though he knew it would never be noticed. He hooked a leg over the sill and slipped out.

Taehyung was halfway done with his lunch when his mother pulled out the chair next to him and sat. He looked at her curiously, and the expression she wore said without words that she had something to tell him. It wasn't the look she got when she found him being bad, or when his teacher called, it was a look he had never seen before and something about that made his stomach feel funny.

"Taehyung, sweetie, do you remember the last time you saw Jungkook?" Tae cocked his head, not expecting to hear his friend's name.

"Saturday night, right before he went to eat dinner. Why? Is he in trouble?"

"No, no, that's not it. You didn't see him yesterday?"

"I went and played with Hoseok in the cul de sac yesterday," Taehyung watched his mother's face grow grimmer and grimmer, "Mama, what happened?"

She took his hands in hers, warm and worn from housework, motherly and comforting, and looked in his eyes, "Sweetie, no one has seen Jungkook since last night."

Taehyung thought he was going to throw up.

A day passed with that twisting knot of fear constantly in his gut, then another day. It was a weight impossible to shake that didn't let him eat or sleep or do anything but worry and drown in helplessness and beg the universe to be able to see Jungkook again. To see his glittering eyes and soft hair, hear how his laugh squeaked and his nose crinkled up. Taehyungs thoughts circled in a never ending prayer: “Please, let him be safe. Please, let him come home.”

It felt like a parasite on his back - the worry - feeding off of and draining his life, weighing him down, killing him slowly. Every day that blurred into the next dragged on as if it were a million days and Taehyung's eyes burned and his limbs felt like led. He wanted it to end. He wanted things to go back to before. He wanted Jungkook.

It was one night after dinner when he was supposed to be asleep that he heard his parents say that it had been too long since Jungkook had gone missing, that the search parties weren't looking for him alive anymore. Taehyung didn't think the world could shatter anymore than it already had, then.

But one thing sat heavily on his thoughts. He had seen the maps of where the search parties went, and he knew one place where they hadn’t looked, the place held in secrecy by Taehyung, and before, by Jungkook, too. The place that Taehyung knew his friend would go to if he had run away. But if he had gone there, even by himself, why hadn’t he come back?

Taehyung hesitated a moment. He thought of the promise under the oak tree, the seriousness in Jungkook's eyes when he realized how important that place was to his friend, then back to them in the field, chasing grasshoppers and splashing each other in the river. He thought of the paradise he had wanted to share with his best friend and no one else. He would have to break that pinky promise and give up that special place if he told someone. But then the memories of Jungkook's laugh bubbled to the surface and in an instant Taehyung knew that there was no place more dear or promise more important to him than Jungkook.

He went and told his parents.

The search party found Jungkook's body on the bank of the river, cold and still, his glittering eyes closed forever. It was accident, they said. He had slipped, and the water was deeper than he expected. In the middle of the night and so far out there was no one to hear him if he screamed. Taehyung tried not to think about his friend scared and alone in the dark water.

The funeral came and went. Taehyung didn't remember much. He moved on autopilot. Loose hugs and stiff smiles to all those who came to give their condolences. Their words were undoubtedly kind and well-meaning, but they fell on numb ears.

Summer passed, too, in hazy grey. A grey of learning how to live without him, how to breathe through the guilt and act like he was some kind of okay. Taehyung didn't play as much as he used to, didn't smile or eat or sleep as much either. He cried until he didn't think he'd ever have any tears again. But, after a while, it stopped feeling like knives through his heart and settled into an hallow ache, an ever-present incompleteness in his core. The pain came in realization, mostly, and accepting and getting used to the fact that an end had come, that there would never be a next time to look forward to.

He missed him most in the the little things. When he played piano and the space on the bench next to him was empty. When there were no glittering brown eyes to meet his. When he went to the places they used to go, or saw something that reminded him of the shy smiles and squeaky laugh he’d never hear again. It was the little things, like eating and breathing and getting out of bed and living, that were the hardest without him.

Then on the last day of summer, he picked himself up. He made his bed, opened his curtains and watched the sneakers in the old oak across the street sway in the autumn wind. He remembered climbing it with Jungkook, playing in it's shade, making a promise under it, and there at his window, Taehyung made new promise. He would think of Jungkook how he was in the clearing: bright, happy, laughing and alive, more beautiful than any wildflower. He’d remember him with the sun in his hair and his hand in Taehyung's, he’d live the life Jungkook never got the opportunity to. Taehyung’s lips moves in a silent swear, never to forget Jungkook, never to stop loving him.

Because people can disappear from us on this earth, but once they’re in your heart, they cannot disappear completely.

[libidomechanica]

A race of mere insanity

(A race of mere insanity,  a bath and fertile, among  the object graces spied, of  whore, and station, till my good! His lady  smile that no just last by the  sea in the dying who lookd 

more lovely knights, placed it by the timeless  mist have secure, her down. “T was  no other think? I lay on it as  on a day of youth, forgiveness:  yet her eyes had yet discern the  way by now the long-boats condition 

was smitten rock that gan weepe: for  a kitchen, unload my bundle yourself  in her arms round them,  shedding air bubbled up with that  even to this, Times fool, seekst not  bite so fondly part from one she loathe, detest, 

as the river where Guadalquivir,  juan slept all dreariest is most  hoarded chest, I want mine.” And thus their  two small birds were cast me downe hys packe, all over  them, treachery of friends; I haue  my silence and was feminine 

enough to grace a doubt, a  good do “t ye, gentle Carian  lord, whose spotless Surface neither hopes  infest; where time where by the dewy  eve and smelling even then spoke The  Shah;—‘Salámán’ fell short fever-fit; on which 

make a stage presenteth nought beside  his very night of that wastes, and  darkens, and of them shot by thy  father of tears, Piteous plighted on  panthers furs and softly from the  speaking day Bewitchd I sure must have victual. 

kept still have shown; a though chequerd, calls  Ilions den, so it cant feel pain, yearnings steep, and,  gazing from Him—by Him directed  by the  Kirke pillours eare day light enough  to make country house, the fifth 

day, more delicate; but thought a languish;) she  only said: ‘I would have the fullness than  they wander in and moistend love, yea,  this our long-hid love confess th an a mantle in the world dreaming—  and merriment of existence.’ 

I see thereof some hands” worked busily  seeking the fifth day, and all think  to make the Bodys very tree,  mocks married early; and wild, even as  where these, or eventide. My river-lily  cups with the rabid 

wolf whose recreation go and play till  the daisies pied and bright signals, even  in death to tak me frae my mammy  yet. Survive their time, all you why I send you  of her bonie lass that it takes seen  by the honeyed years; yet often 

see. So Juan wore them appeard distinct,  and her boy, and near the world  your wings, those nonsense of pleasures real may  betide, we dance with which her  idiot boy, shes high and dryd him, on  the long brides paths, embellishd more lovely 

seemd taking     their desperate now a  spirit flit alone one who, in  the afternoon, and that I  love me for greed o the stars: come  hindmost, holds her young, twad be a sin  to tak me frae sun that rich in 

my bosom? All heard of morn arose, her  young the grave: and her quick wave, and  such graceful ladies hes bold, throbbd me of them  send, reapen the towers are thee,  Cynara! My King; which makes me sin awards  me pain.  Like rays Fold myself to sea, when 

thou hadst thou wound with  Me! into the match till  then new East Until away between,  above his youth sincere the Youth pined  away with them to each  other, she is, how you hurt ! will wonder 

in three of credulous heart! The Deluge  or else swoon to death, thought, and  makes me laugh to see the hot day,  or do, as ever shaken; it is  the Promethean vulture in hand  painters art. Cold in the Browne, 

hire yën blake; with many a  sound them appeard; yet she waken envy  of our happy; all who fry cold  as ice, or copper—the death be  rude. but when he had been scorchd,  thus lorn to seal joint upon the 

breath was gone down, Say, will the  chamber fair eyes are blue stones i th  year, at last, is her state: His  joy. and devout kiss her bed; he snored  all his second and lookd kind (as  it weather formd of clay.) I leave with 

[theinsouciantscribbler]

Not Another Vampire Romance: Chapter 4: “Coming out of Retirement because I can’t live off of Social Security.”

‘What are you thinking?’ I asked myself as I watched Alyra walk out of the apartment complex without so much as a goodbye from my end. I haven’t her digits, address, or any sort of plans to meet with her again.

“Don’t be foolish,” I chided aloud, turning back to my door and walking inside. “It is better this way.”

“It’s not like it could go anywhere,” I continued muttering to myself, “We have no future together.”

Still arguing with myself on whether I should run after her or let it be, I found myself gravitating towards the fridge to grab a fifth out of the fridge. The soft smack of bottles in the door jingled, bringing back a flash to Alyra doing the same thing, thumbing through the lack of options. I couldn’t help but remember how her hair draped down, twisting in gentle coils at the ends, or remembering the arch in her back as she bent down.

“Damn it.” I didn’t even bother closing the fridge door or the door to my apartment as I raced down the hall, out the door and using intuition and a keen sense of direction, took a left. The ‘Blue Goose’ was just a few blocks over, and perhaps she had left a vehicle of some variety there. 

I pushed passed the very few people that walked the streets this early in the morning on a Sunday, staggering to keep my pace as I was weak from my basic diet of liquor for the past few months. Jerking right, I was about to come across an alley when a bright as day motorcycle ripped out in front of me. I recoiled back before it ran me over, and found myself in a stupor as I saw the driver wearing a bright pair of red stilettos. 

“Alyra?” I could hardly breathe, realizing she was gone and I was too late. 

I stumbled to my feet to watch her disappear as my fascination with her seemed to grow.

“Too bad i’ll never see her again.” I kicked my boots against the brick of the building before turning back home.

I took considerably longer to make my way back to the dingy one bedroom apartment I considered home. It didn’t smell, which was an improvement from the last rental I had procured a year ago, but it was clearly dilapidated. For the past couple weeks now I had considered ending the terms of my rental agreement early and heading off to a new place. The winds were seemingly calling me up till now, telling me it was time to go. Now, I couldn’t bare to move an inch beyond the small three block radius from my home to the ‘Blue Goose’ in the hopes I were to ever see her again.

For weeks I made sure to arrive at the ‘Blue Goose’ upon opening and stay till closing, keeping my eyes glued to the door. Perhaps the bar keep, found me odd that I had suddenly stopped ordering drinks from him regularly yet still frequented his establishment; but he wouldn’t say it. Instead, the keep would always ask what I was having, and I would wave him off; far too preoccupied with my foolish hopes.

“Waiting for someone, eh?” He asked, breaking the mold from the routine we had shared. I turned to look at the burly man, a bit gruff, but it seemed to suit him fine. Seemed to suit the fashion of the times anyhow, which I cared for not.

“In fact,” It wouldn’t hurt to ask if he knew her. I hoped to god she was a local and hadn’t jetted away to a distant land. “A few weeks ago, a girl I met came in here. Long, blonde hair, red stilettos.”

“A lot of blondes and red heels around the place.” He shrugged, and it was only then that I looked out and realized just that. It was a sea of them, unoriginal as the last; yet somehow, she stood out amongst all of them.

“Besides,” He interrupted my train of thought. “I thought you were retired.”

“I am, and she isn’t a mark.” I muttered, eyeing the man suspiciously. Did he know something I didn’t?

“Huh, not from what I heard.” He whispered, pouring me a drink and shoving it over. I stared at it as it was a foreign enemy; a stranger. 

For a while I sat in silence, we both did it seemed, till the bar grew quiet and empty.

“What have you heard?” I asked at last, leaning in to take the drink in my hand and gently swirl the brown liquid in the glass, watching it move like a seductive, hypnotic dance.

“A couple weeks ago,” He looked around to make sure we were alone. “A Saecula was reported missing. You wouldn’t have anything to do with that, would you?”

���Depends. Who’s asking?”

His eyes narrowed, watching me closely.

“Everyone.” 

“Everyone?” 

“Well,” He shrugged. “Turns out he was on an important mission and was interrupted before he could finish it.” 

“How important?” I asked, perking up. How bad did I mess up, getting involved with the Saecula this time?

“So important they have put a huge head on it for anyone to finish what he couldn’t… Caught the attention of a local Head hunter.” 

“Who?” I shot up from my seat, yanking my jacket back on. I was ready to fly out of here if needed.

“I think more than hundred and fifty thousand Euro’s if she is brought back dead, even more if she is alive.”

“Westin.” I growled at the bar keep. I hated the games he played.

He stared at me with an eyebrow raised and a growing grin. He was expecting payment. I shoved my hand into my pocket and threw a few big denominations at him. She was worth more than legal tender.

“He goes by the name of Jackrabbit.” He told me, and I knew of the sleazy monster he spoke of. He didn’t ever stick around one place long, and never caused so much trouble to ever require my intervention. Once, long ago I had even tracked someone down with him. We didn’t suit each other, so after the job I was more than happy that we took our separate ways. He was immature, and liked to play with his hunt.

“I know him.” I confirmed, ready to find the man.

“Then you already know he won’t have the restraint to take her alive.” He warned.

“Where does he plan-“

“Downtown, in the old district. Apparently, this one plans on making a big show of it too.” He told me, anticipating my question.

“Thanks.” I muttered, about to leave when he looked like he had more to say.

“So… Not so retired after all?” He smirked.

“Spit it out, I have somewhere to be.” Annoyed that he was wasting time on something so personal.

“I hope she is worth the trouble, because from what I heard, the order comes from up top.” He warned me, his smile gone.

This gave me pause.

“What could they want with her?” I asked aloud, my mind grinding like gears in a clock.

“That is something you’ll have to ask. All I know is that they won’t stop till she is taken care of, properly.”

“Yeah and they don’t take too kindly to their plans going sideways either.” I agreed.

“So, is she worth it?” He asked again.

“Never mind the girl, I think is it about time I finish what I started.”

“Then you might want this.” He reached from under the bar counter and pulled out a small wooden box. It was plain and had simple brass mechanical pieces. To most, it would seem to be worthless and would never house anything of importance.

“Are you sure?” I asked, taking the box in my hands.

“You’re already the enemy of the state. Doing this will alert them to your whereabouts. There is no running from this once you start, so you might as well take it.”

“True, but helping me will make you one as well.”

“Yeah.” He shrugged. “But you actually have a chance of taking them down, so take it and don’t make me regret it by dying before you get the job done, okay?”

“Even if I don’t, it’ll make for good entertainment. A must see.” I joked, opening the box and taking the Morning Star in my hand. Were my hands not gloved, the handle would have seared my flesh for it burns all that is unholy.

I brought the long, silver blade up to my eyes to inspect the beauty of the sword. Forged to slay devils and tempered in holy water to banish demons from this world, it gleamed even in the dim lights of the bar. Latin inscription, the same as the one on my cane, was engraved in a beautiful manor. 

Morning Star was only one half to a whole, and when combined with its sister blade, it was a weapon meant to rid the world of every last Monster and beast that infested this sickly world.

“Do you still have the other half?” Westin asked, unable to draw my full attention away from the blade.

“Eventide has been kept away safely from any disturbance.” I assured him. I sheathed the blade and hung it on my hip. I looked up to Westin and gave him a single nod to say salute before I turned my attention to what I would face. A past I had tried to escape, a life I had wished to end. Both now coming to face me like a nightmare I was forced to finally remember. Time would tell if I would be able to slay this beast, or if it would consume me whole and bring me to death; a companion I thought I would never meet.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The market was quiet this late in the day, letting each footstep I take upon the cobblestone walkway echo through the street. It was just past five and several vendors had already gone home; but I preferred it that way. The shops that remained were willing to make sales at a discount cost to get rid of inventory, which made my abysmal budget allow in fresh produce.

“Uh, I’ll take 3 bell peppers, a cucumber…” I muttered as the woman behind the mock counter began packaging my order and ringing it up as I went so I could see the total. “I’ll take a bushel of your Roma tomatoes.”

“This is our last one, a bit shabby if that is okay?” She showed me the basket, and they were a bit soft and some were wrinkled. They were perfect for the purpose I had in mind, but I didn’t want the sales woman to know, so I scrunched my nose.

“I can offer the whole bushel for twenty.”

“I’ll take them.” I smiled, offering my linen shopping bag I had brought for such an occasion. I continued browsing her goods while she bagged my produce, going through an internal list of the things I needed and what I could live without.

“Do you have any potatoes left?” I asked, not immediately seeing any out.

“Oh, yes we do, a couple bags.” She smiled, bending down and disappearing for just a moment behind the counter to rise with two five pound bags of red potatoes. 

“How much?”

“3 each.” It was a bargain.

“I’ll take both.” I agreed. I also picked up a bag of onions from the same vendor and paid for my goods.

The bags were heavy, but I paid them little mind as I walked them back to the old, dingy jeep I used to drive up here. It was my first vehicle, given to me on my sixteenth birthday. It was reliable, and served its purpose when I needed to get more than just myself around.

After I had heaved the heavy bags into the back of the jeep, I reached up to close the hatch. Gripping it with my hands I yanked it down with a resounding grunt. 

“Damn,” I breathed as I headed back to the market. “That gets harder each time.”

I still had a few things left on my list before I would allow myself to indulge in the beautiful music playing from the plaza at the center of the market. It wouldn’t take long, and hopefully it wouldn’t distract me too much so I didn’t forget anything; a tendency I seemed to have.

It was almost six when I had finished packing my jeep with the last of the things I had planned on stocking up on for the month, and felt myself ready to finally relax for just a moment as I made my way to the plaza. The music playing had shifted from gentle and calm to a more upbeat tune, the change due in part to a new local band playing.

As I walked towards the plaza, which was separated from one side of the market by main street, I felt a buzz coming from my purse. Looking both ways before I crossed the street, I flipped open the flap and dug till my hands met the phone and pulled it out. I wasn’t sure who could be calling me at this hour, but it seemed these last few weeks were full of surprises.

For just a moment I thought of Esheton Grey as I looked down at my phone. For some reason, a small piece of me thought it might have been him, but that was a silly thing. He didn’t have my number, and I was sure he had forgotten about me long since.

BEEEEEEEEP!

SCREECH!

I looked up from my phone as two blinding headlights stared me in the face like two demon like eyes. I could hear the blare of a horn like a trumpet in a choir and the screech of the brakes like nails on a chalk board. I stood motionless, a silent whisper to move but an overwhelming urge to stay put kept me there. Right on impact I felt an immediate jerk bring me flying backwards.

When the sound of the horn faded, I opened my eyes to see the darkening sky overhead with just the first stars twinkling out tonight. Shifting my eyes just south, I saw the reason for impact was not the car.

“Grey?” I felt my heart explode with excitement while my mind twirled around in circles trying to understand how he had once again been in the right time and place to save me. Perhaps he really was my Dark Knight.

Leaning back in his arm as if we had just done a dip in a dance, he helped me slowly rise upright until I was firmly on my feet.

“You were right,” He frowned, “You do have a penchant for bad luck.”

Subconsciously, I thought hundreds of eyes were on us to witness this embrace, but when I looked around I saw not a single soul paying us any mind. 

“Are you alright?” He asked. I felt my mouth gape but nothing came out immediately. I still felt in awe that he was right here when I thought I would never have the chance to see him again. 

“Uh, um… Yeah.” I nodded, finally forming a jumble of words. “I’m… fine.”

“What were you thinking, trying to take a Sudan head on?”

“Honestly, when I looked the street was clear of any traffic.” I shrugged, unsure where that car had come from.

“What was so important to distract you?” He asked as he grabbed the small phone in my hand, the evidence written all over it.

“A phone call?” He rolled his eyes and looked at the screen of the phone. His teasing smile fell when he looked at it.

“What?” I asked, grabbing the phone out of his hand. I looked at the screen and seen I had missed a call from an unknown number.

“Nothing to worry about, most likely a telemarketer.” I shrugged it off and pocketed my phone.

“Anyways,” I started when his moody silence didn’t break. “I’m surprised to see you here.”

“I was told this was a great place to meet new people and socialize with the locals.”

“Uh, yeah I guess.” I chuckled awkwardly. “You just don’t strike me as the type of person who goes out of their way to do that.”

“Perhaps not, but I had hopes that I might run into you here.”

“You… Did?” I was shocked by his frankness.

“I went after you when you left me at my door.” He began. His very words made the beating in my heart stop. “But before I knew it, you were zipping past me in a yellow motorcycle.”

“I can be a bit reckless with that thing.” I admitted, kicking myself for flying off.

“Reckless, or fearless?” He smiled.

“Oh, most certainly reckless.” I laughed.

“Uh, hey, would you like to listen to some of the local talent playing tonight?” I asked him, somehow blurring the lines of my recklessness and fearlessness once more. 

“Well…” He let out a big huff of air.

“Oh come on,” I begged, “I hear they are supposed to be pretty good. For a small town band that is.”

“Um…” He seemed unsure at first, perhaps music wasn’t his thing. “Yeah. Okay.”

“Good.” I smiled, taking his arm in mine. “They are playing just over there in the plaza. You’ll have fun.”

[deck-of-cards-arc]

🔥-🌹

🌹 “Ai?”

She turned around, her midnight black hair flipping over her shoulder. Actually, midnight and soft, azure blue hair. Though, the flames began to change to a toxic purple as soon as I announced her name.

🔥 “EEP!- O-Oh, it’s j-just you Rose.”

🌹 “You can’t sleep?”

🔥 “Narcolepsy is a fucking bitch, I need melatonin”

🌹 “Well, I can just conjure that up-“

🔥 “No, it’s not…not just the narcolepsy. It’s…well..”

🌹 “It’s what?”

🔥 “Thinking too much, really…Even if I could sleep, I don’t think I want to”

🌹 “Ah…”

🔥 “…Can you spar with me tonight?”

🌹 “Wow, just like that?”

🔥 “I mean, if you can, what with your arm and all.”

🌹 “My arm isn’t too badly scratched, I’m okay for a friendly match”

🔥 “R-Really? You’d want to?”

🌹 “Sure, why not? I’m up for it anytime.”

I could tell, her eyes were glistening once more, in a tired sort of way. Her hair changed to a bright dandelion orange. I merely chuckled, standing up and offering a hand to the hermit. She took it gladly, and with that, I snapped my fingers so we would stand under the night sky The darkness above us, painted with blue and pale white streaks of midnight across the clouds. The soft luminance of the moon, coupled with the splatter and splash of the stars across the canvas. The breeze passing us by as we stood in front of the view of the village. Some lights were left on for the night owls, though the most had shut or began to shut their windows tight for the eventide. It was a gorgeous sight, one to be distracted by. The pretty illuminations didn’t seem to move Ai at all, though. Her gaze was focused on the fresh grass by our feet that swayed in the winds. On the dagger still in her hands, one she trailed a finger across the flat surface before her eyes moved back to me.

🔥 “So…”

🌹 “So? Let’s get to it then.”

🔥 “Wait, you didn’t bring your weapons though…”

🌹 “Or did I?”

Like magician unveiling the rabbit from a hat, I pulled out a long bamboo bo staff from just behind my hand. And as expected, Ai was the bewildered audience to witness the reveal. Wasn’t much of a trick, per se, I just wanted to get that out of my system. But it was still nice to know, even after seeing the extent of my powers multiple times, she could still be star-struck.

The innocent joy from it soon was shaken off, much like how Ai shook her head of midnight. She took her stance, and I took it as a go for the first swing. Naturally, she dodged it easily. It was then her turn to strike me with a slice, that one I blocked easily too with the staff. Ai didn’t wait for my next move, she kept striking the same spot in the staff. No other choice but the back up as she struck. I managed to find a small opening to push her back, but she managed to step forward the same distance. I could block all of her swings, but I knew she already had something else up her hoodie sleeve. And I was right. Enough distraction to the centre of the staff made me forget she could strike the ends and send me off guard. Once she saw her chance, she lunged forward. Unfortunate for her, I grabbed the end before it could fly off to parry. With a swing, I pushed her down. Like slamming a hammer down in those carnival games, except the game was pushing back with all of her might. The blade dug deep into the wood, perfect. I swayed the staff away, the dagger along with it as it bowled away to the grass. It only took Ai a second to realise she was weaponless to roll away too. It only took one last swing down, being barely blocked by her arm to down her. I loomed just above her, staff pointed to her face, one of possible horror. I still couldn’t tell. Either way, with the poke of the bo staff on the forehead, I let out my giggle.

🌹 “I win”

🔥 “Jeezus fuck, yeah you did”

🌹 “Wanna go again? That was fun”

🔥 “Sure, I can- ACK!”

As soon as she began to push her self up, she doubled back down with a scream. I dumped the staff aside and kneeled to her level. To the centre of her chest, she was clutching her left wrist tightly. I must’ve been too eager in that match.

🌹 “Here, let me see-“

🔥 “NO DON’T TOUCH ME!”

I reeled back my hand before I could even touch her wrist. Ai covered her mouth over her mask, upon the awareness of her instinctive shout.

🔥 “I-I-, sorry I d-didn’t mean to shout…”

🌹 “It’s okay, just…can I see your wrist?”

The hermit let go of her wrist, using the uninjured hand to push her to a sitting position. She handed over the wrist to me like I was confiscating it. With careful steadiness, I pulled back the sleeve and touched the blue-black spot. As expected, she whimpered. From what I could tell, it wasn’t too bad of damage that I couldn’t patch up. I hovered my hand over it and let the strands of light wrapped around the injury. I could still hear the faintest whimper from Ai fade, but not the sight of the azure flames from the corner of my eye.

🌹 “Ai, do you have any other injuries? Knees? Arm?”

🔥 “N-No…just the wrist…”

🌹 “Sure?”

🔥 “Mhmm…”

🌹 “Are you okay? The flames are acting up again.”

🔥 “H-Huh? Oh.”

🌹 “What’s wrong?’

🔥 “…Rose, remember the one time you barged into the bathroom?”

🌹 “I…I think you might need to specify which bathroom”

🔥 “In Ko House”

🌹 “And?”

🔥 “I was in there, crying my eyes out”

“…It still doesn't ring bells.”

🔥 “It was just…basically, I was going to have another panic attack then you lockpicked the door and ran to me in a hug. And Mia was there.”

🌹 “Oh. Oh?”

🔥 “I have a weird memory, Rose. I remember a lot of things. It’s not consistent”

🌹 “Or I just wiped it from my head, maybe”

🔥 “I have…uhm…bad memories associated with this wrist. Only the left…but it’s a lot. I locked myself in the bathroom because of it. I locked myself in the bathroom many times before coming to Ko. I panicked and then locked myself in rooms after coming to Ko, such as…”

🌹 “…Don’t tell me you were going to-“

🔥 “Don’t remind me…please?”

🌹 “S-sorry.”

🔥 “You know, I don’t think I've ever felt so stressed being in Ko…I don’t know if you’ve seen the house in its glory before”

🌹 “Only heard, saw some”

🔥 “You know, it was peaceful…peaceful as in chaotic. But the fun chaotic, you know? Everyone was happy, and sure we had our downs. Many downs, but we’d be there for each other. God, everyone in Ko, the first family that ever was a family to me...”

🌹 “But then what happened?”

Ai remained silent.

🔥 “I don’t know…but a lot of stuff happened. Let me see, uhm- the principal, demons, powers, Mynn was acting up- Gah, everything’s a blur.”

“And that was BEFORE I arrived?”

🔥 “Mhmm, now there’s even more things to be worried over. All of my friends…I don’t know where they are, I don’t know how they're doing…even now I can’t help but think, when can we go home?”

🌹 “Ai…I’m worried about them too.”

🔥 “At least you have all those cool powers. Me? I’m stuck cowering over the next disaster of the month. God, it just hurts to worry over my friends. I just want them to be happy, I just want them to be happy with me…I sound like a whining kid, fuck”

🌹 “It's natural for you to be scared…you’ve seen so much, I can’t blame you for worrying.”

🔥 “I can just blame myself then…no matter how much I’ve seen, I’ve never been able to help.”

I lifted my hand but grabbed it again before she could slip it away.

🌹 “Ai…you told me something, didn’t you?”

🔥 “I…what-“

“You said, ‘I know you want to, badly want to solve everything. But you can't do everything on your own’, you said that didn’t you?”

🔥 “Oh…the sparring ring”

🌹 “I can’t solve everything, that’s what I remember you saying. Neither can you. Problems will always arise and you can’t get through them on your own…that’s why we have each other. I’m still here, so are many of the others. It’s okay to be scared, we’re still here for you.”

🔥 “Yeah…you are still here...even after so long…”

🌹 “And I don’t intend on leaving you behind”

The blue flames still were ignited, now with the golden pyres to accent it. She ran her free hand through her alight hair, her fingers trailing to behind her ears. In a fell swoop, the hermit leaned forward to lay her forehead on my shoulder. I didn’t move away, as I promised. I almost expected her to burst into tears, her ever-familiar cries to echo in the night. No…I didn’t hear any of it. All I heard in the passing winds were a “thank you” before I felt her body go limp. I patted her head, feeling the harmless flames extinguish themselves. Her arms loosely around my body were only something I noticed as I moved my arm away. The only thing I didn’t notice was the glasses left in my lap, and the mask she clutched onto in her palms. Either way…she was asleep. And I didn’t intend to move her just yet. It was a rare moment to enjoy the peace without the stuffiness of the cave in my windpipe. Suppose I should let her enjoy it for a little while longer with me…

> next morning