She was soaked through, trailing water, the clash of thunder roaring overhead as wind buffeted between barren streets. The summer storm had caught them unawares, rolling in from the churning waves of the ocean, and Israfel felt both baffled over such a ferocious summer storm and positively furious that she had been caught out in it.

Uncharacteristically, the market streets were mostly empty save for others who were also unfortunate enough to not find shelter before the storm reached the shore, clutching their parcels or cloaks tightly as they rushed through the water-sodden streets, the rain pouring down over their heads in merciless rivulets.

Don’t think about it, she whispered to herself, over and over again, a mantra of determination, Do not think about it, Isra.

Thunder shook the very earth beneath her hooves, and only seconds later did lightning crack across the sky, illuminating the inky darkness that had taken over the markets after night fell with a clouded sky. Skin prickled in goosebumps, the Sun Daughter moved quickly through the streets, shivering fiercely as the wind whipped the sodden strings of her mane about her face. Ears pressed flat against her skull, gilded-hooves slapped against the standing water in her frantic rush, her intended destination now in sight as she turned a sharp corner of an alley and slipped while doing so.

She jogged the rest of the way, chest heaving, panic rising in her breast. No, no, no. It wasn’t the same.

They weren’t going to drown.

They would be fine.

They were going to be fine.

“Lu!” Her voice cracked as she shouted out, chest heaving, rose-kissed lips parted as she sucked in great, deep breaths as though she had been caught in the roiling surf of the very ocean and not just the storm that it had dragged in. Her throat ached, burning from the unsettling chill brought in by the fearsome thunderstorm.  “Lu!”

Telekinetic knocks were hammered fiercely upon the clinic’s wooden door, a hurried, rushed thud! thud! thud!

It was late. What if Luvena was sleeping? What if she was fine? What if Isra was panicking over nothing?

Well, it wouldn’t be the first time. A sardonic, terrible grin pulled at the mare’s lips, crooked and wrong as the dark thoughts roiled and churned in her mind, restless like the ocean, but no. No.

It was fine. She was fine. She had to be fine.


@Luvena

She wasn’t answering.

She wasn’t answering.

Israfel heaved, shivering violently where she stood, flashes of sudden floods spotting her mind, recalling visions of torrential landslides, of bodies caked in grime and muck that she had been too slow to save, too weak, to tired…

She took a step back, trembling, staring blankly, vermilion eyes wide as she stared at the wooden door. It was there. The door was there, the clinic was still there, so why was Luvena not answering her door?

Just as she opened her mouth to scream the mare’s name once more, something caught her ear. She paused, an ear lifting, straining to hear over the pouring rain, the merciless wind, and the crack of thunder overhead…

’Isra!’ Her name. It was her name. From nearby?

Panic stole her breath as she turned, her head swiveling almost too slowly when in reality there was nothing slow about it, wide eyes blinking at the sudden form of Luvena as the slight mare rushed up to her side. There was a slow moment, as though time halted, where Israfel’s panic-stricken mind refused to understand or comprehend what was happening.

Luvena was speaking. She was speaking, but her words were like water, spilling from her lips to be lost amidst the sodden streets. The smaller lady, so frail, so thin, goodness, but when was the last time she had eaten?, opened the door, ushered her inside into blissful darkness and out of the raging storm. It echoed around them, creaking the structure of the clinic, but for the moment they were safe.

Vermilion eyes were locked on Luvena, looking her over, assessing her, making sure she was alright. Was she alright? The poor thing, she looked cold. Israfel’s heart raced within her breast, her pulse pounding in her ears, panic still cloying her throat and making words impossible… The Sun Daughter had faced death, had died, had fought and bled and stood up against foes thrice her size and never, not once, had she experienced such a panic.

“You’re wet,” she wheezed out rather dumbly, only able to find the croaked words when the smaller mare offered her a pelt to warm up with, “Lu, I thought… I thought…” There were a few moments longer that lingered, passing by them to be lost amidst the chill in the air, before she reached out and plucked the pelt from Luvena’s grasp. She hesitated, thinking for a brief, foolish, cruel moment to wrap the pelt around Lu’s slender shoulders even though the said lady already shrouded herself in one, and even as the words caught in her throat she pulled the offered pelt over her own shoulders and folded wings.

Let me take care of you, she wanted to say, but the words would not come. I need to take care of you.

Instead, she croaked out, “I-I’m sorry. I’m fine, I didn’t mean to worry you, I just… I wanted to make sure you were alright.” She paused. Laughed once. Choked. Gasped. ”This storm? She’s a bitch.” The Sun Daughter heaved, trembling in a way that had nothing to do with the cold.


@Luvena

There was a touch. Gentle. Warm. Reassuring. Caring.

Israfel stilled, lips parted, doleful eyes blinking slowly as she realized the resulting warmth spreading through her shoulders was from Luvena herself. Quite honestly, the Sun Daughter had completely missed the movement, but the warmth that seeped between them was enough to begin thawing the chill that had rooted so deeply within her core.

Luvena was hugging her, that slender neck pressed intimately against the strong slope of Israfel’s shoulder, and she found herself unable to comprehend how to respond. Emotion roiled within her breast, cloying her throat, and her eyes burned. When was the last time anyone had hugged her? When was the last time that someone had regarded her with such fondness, such affection, such unabashed care?

It was a foreign, intimate thing, and it burned.

For so long, Israfel had to be strong. For so long, that was all she knew how to do. For so long, she had to carry herself, protect herself, fight for herself, and weep for herself, because no one else would.

Yet here, with Luvena, standing dripping wet in the foyer of her home… Israfel did not have to be strong. She could let her guard down, her shoulders could release the tension, the poise, her blood could finally cool the churning burn without the constant need to fight, protect, compensate, impress, dominate.

She could just be, and Lu would never ask more of her than that.

Luvena pulled away and cast her a smile, so tender, so precious, and Israfel was undone. ’Go lie down,’ the order was spoken, and the Sun Daughter was powerless but to obey.

Long, trembling legs carried the pyromancer towards the mossy bed. She lowered herself with little grace, no longer caring about appearances or facades because she knew those in her company wouldn’t care, either. Vermilion eyes, far more aware and alert than they had been only minutes before, followed the movements of her host as she busied about the quaint chamber to prepare them something to drink. When Luvena lowered herself and presented her the cup of tea, Israfel graciously accepted it with a quirked, weak grin.

“Thank you.” A quick sip bloomed warmth in her chest, despite the temperature being room temperature at best. Instinct almost had her calling for the fires that were hers to control, the element of her Godly birthright, but she refrained. The last thing Isra wanted was to scare Lu even more than she had that night.

When the questions came, the Sun Daughter paused. She lowered her cup, frowning, brows furrowed and ears tipping back as she thought. “I… Can’t recall,” she mused, finding no reason to lie. Something told her that Luvena’s keen eyes would see right through it, anyway. “Most of the evening. I was patrolling when the storm rolled in, and at first I didn’t think it was anything other than a summer rain, but…” That clearly hadn’t been the case. Then the lightning and thunder had moved in, and the winds, and the pouring, torrential, unforgiving rain, and with the arrival of such foul weather came an onslaught of unrelenting memories.

Pulse beginning to quicken, Israfel gasped for breath, her chest growing tight as her grip on the cup faltered. She set it down before dropping it. “There were signs of fl-flooding, and I was worried. About you. I didn’t want…” She didn’t want Luvena’s corpse, twisted and broken, to be one of the many that still haunted her deepest nightmares.

Shame filled her and she glanced away, pale lashes hiding troubled, vermilion depths. “I’m sorry.”


@Luvena

Somehow, they end up curled together.

Israfel does not trust herself to hold the cup of tea without the risk of dropping it, and so she hopes that Luvena doesn’t mind that she withholds picking it back up. There is too much on her mind, a roiling mess of confusing thoughts and rising anxieties, and they are both magnified yet calmed when the slighter mare presses herself up against the Sun Daughter’s ivory bulk. It was hard to say if it was out of necessity, driven to act by the sheer chill in the air and their still-damp bodies, or if it was from the desire of something more.

She barely resisted a sardonic snort. Surely not.

The muscles in the joints of her wings twitch and feathers stretch in response to the now-foreign stimulation, fanning outwards for but a moment before settling with a ruffle against her back. Isra freezes, breath halting in her lungs, watching, waiting, wondering… And the tension loosened its hold, a breath of anxiousness leaving her nose in a long, deep exhale as she allowed herself to truly relax into the touch.

An ear tipped towards Luvena as she began to speak, and Isra held her silence to simply listen. There was no rush here, no hurry. She could simply relax, just breathe, and relish in the company of someone she was quite fond of.

The panic of racing the storm was beginning to fade, yet it left her body thrumming with lingering dredges of adrenaline and her heart quaking. The shiver that raced up and down her spine and fled to the edges of her hooves had begun to fade, as the unnatural burning warmth that filled the ivory dun’s body began to burn hotter. It would do wonders for the both of them, really, and Israfel had never found herself more thankful for the innate, unnatural heat of her body temperature than in that very moment.

A pale ear tips forward just as she catches the words that steal her breath. ’You know I died once?’ The image comes again, unbidden, terrible flashes of a broken, battered corpse covered in mud, ichor, and blood… She grimaces against the unwanted siege, teeth grinding, and unconsciously lowers her head to press the velveteen of her rose-kissed muzzle against Luvena’s thin shoulders. It wasn’t a kiss, just… A touch of affection, of understanding, of relief. The rising distress at such an admission gradually begins to wane, however slowly, due to their proximity.

Luvena was fine. She was alive, and safe, and alive, and soon to be warm and dry. No harm would come to her here, Israfel would make sure of it.

Still… The tale was not about her. The Sun Daughter swallowed hard, tongue parched and mouth dry, yet still she did not trust herself enough to reach for the cup. Hearing Luvena speak of her death with such grace and dignity shook something in her core, and only then did Isra find her voice.

“Only by experiencing death can we truly be able to experience life,” she murmured wisely, thinking momentarily of her mother. A shame that she never knew what became of her. “I’m glad you’re here.” Selfishly, so. She didn’t want it any other way.

Sucking in a deep breath, the ivory maiden held it for a few moments. She remained pressed intimately close to Luvena’s smaller, frailer form, letting her greater size and the burning warmth that radiated from her very body soothe the chill from their bones. Letting out the breath, the Sun Daughter spoke gently.

“... I died once, as well. When I was much younger.” Israfel grimaced, the memories unpleasant and painful. “My father was the Sun God of my old home. His blood runs through my veins… Perhaps that’s why I burn a little hotter than your average mare.” She could barely force a small, quirked grin, but it was weak, far less arrogant and more relieved than such a crooked expression typically was. “He turned my fire against me on the night of a terrible storm, like tonight. All I remember is burning, and.... Then nothing.”

“My father meant everything to me, but he sacrificed me, to instead bring life to my half-sister. ’The Second Flame’, they called her. I’m fairly sure she’s dead now.” Bitterly, Israfel hoped so. It was petty, foolish, and immature… But even now, she could not help but feel betrayed by her father.

He was dead now, as well. They all were. The knowledge didn’t make her feel any better.

Breath shuddering, she cleared her throat, pools of glittering vermillion focusing on Luvena’s bright, brilliant turquoise eyes. ”And then I woke up, here, on Novus. I’m glad I did.” And she held Luvena’s beautiful stare, imploring, willing her to understand the words that Israfel herself barely did.


@Luvena

Ivory brows pinched together at Luvena’s comment.

“I had never found him cruel,” Israfel admitted softly, yet her torn expression said otherwise, laying to bare her uncertainties, “Stern, perhaps… But never cruel. I worshipped him. I aspired to be like him. I never thought that he would…” The softly spoken words trailed off, not needing to be repeated. She found that she didn’t have the heart to.

Luvena had heard them the first time, and what was done was done.

Vermilion depths lifted to refocus back on Luvena’s gentle face, and the Sun Daughter sighed. She waited, pensive, thoughtful, curious, her traitorous heart giving a mighty kick within her breast at the simple statement of ’And you’re here.’

She was. Against all odds, the Sun demi-Goddess of Helovia had died, come back, and had made her home here, in Novus. They had both suffered in life, she and Luvena. They understood.

Death was not uncommon in these lands, but to be given a second chance, to come back, to potentially correct mistakes and build a better life was a gift. As Israfel held Luvena’s turquoise eyes, a moment passed between them, a breath left her lips, and she knew there could be no greater gift than the one laying before her.

Giving a wry smile that began to feel normal once more, that settled onto her lips like it truly belonged, the ivory maiden spoke. “Then perhaps we should make the most of it, while we’re both here.” And with that, she reached out and once more picked up the cup of tea, holding it close, letting it warm within her mental grasp before taking a few small sips. The herbal blend rested comfortably upon her tongue, and almost unconsciously she slowed her breathing, relaxing, focusing, letting her lungs expand and empty as the panic and anxiety slowly continued to ebb.

This evening had been stressful. Even now, the summer storm continued to rage outside, the wind and sheets of rain buffeting the clinic walls… Yet they were warm. Comfortable. Safe.

“... Thank you. For taking me in like this, for talking with me. It’s been a long time since I’ve been able to talk to someone like I can talk to you, Lu.” She frowned briefly, lowering the cup of tea just slightly, brows furrowing as she mulled over the complexity of such a statement. It meant far more than what she could articulate. “I am sorry, though, if I scared you. I.... Don’t have moments like that often. I’m way more adept at handling the physical battles than the emotional, I guess.” And Israfel chuckled, warm and humored, letting herself shift just so to ensure that she and Lu were pressed just a little closer together.

For warmth, of course. And definitely for no other reason. Definitely not.

In the back of her mind despite the vast open distance between them, she could hear Solaris’ humored, knowing, and exasperated comment of, ’Liar.’


@Luvena