'Cause I'm not in a right state of mind
I just wish I had strength to admit it
My stubbornness will put up a fight
But I don't deserve to win it.
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.
Luvena hadn’t seen a storm this fierce in ages. The wind had already torn the roofs off a few market stalls. More than once she had to detour through the winding corridors because swaths of vivid cloth, and their support beams were strewn across the path, and she dared not try to pick her way over them when she could hardly see the ground in front of her, or rather the water, which had started to run, and pool in various parts of the city.
It had come on quickly too, the dark clouds rolling inward from the sea. Even in the city, you could hear the crash of waves in the distance. She could just picture the spray that was coming off them. How glad she was that she hadn’t brought the girls out on her errands. Neither were fond of thunder, and getting them back would have been a fuss. Although she wouldn’t have minded having them at her side. With the way the wind was threatening to topple her with every gust. She only hoped Picoro had found somewhere to weather it out.
She hadn’t seen him since the spring. After the portals… the bog. He had left her, and hadn’t come back. She had held on to hope that he would, that he just needed some time to cool off, but as the weeks went by she realized that perhaps this was it.
By the time she had made it to her end of the market, she was soaked to the bone - as were the herbs she had been gathering out by the lake - and shivering, mane pasted to her neck, and tail weighed down behind her. As she turned the corner into her alley, which was mercifully just uphill enough that the water was running away from her clinic, she realized she was not the first one there. Even in this rain Luvena could have spotted those gilded wings from a mile away.
“Isra?”
The words came out a quiet rasp - She never did manage to shake the hoarseness she’d acquired that last winter. It had stuck around, tainting every word. She cleared her throat. “Isra!”she had to shout to be heard over the rolling thunder and rain. The other woman sounded panicked, desperate, as she slammed on the clinic door.
Luvena moved past her, swinging the door open, and stumbling as Yara and Mithra rushed past, quickly huddling together on her bed. “Come in!”she hurried, closing the door behind them. She dropped the sopping wet satchels onto the ground before turning back to Israfel.“Are you alright?”concern had crept into her own voice. She had never seen the mare look so distraught.“Here” still shivering herself she pulled two pelts out from under the dogs, holding one out to Israfel, and wrapping the other around herself “You’re absolutely soaked”
'Cause I'm not in a right state of mind
I just wish I had strength to admit it
My stubbornness will put up a fight
But I don't deserve to win it.
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.
She couldn’t help but tilt her head while watching the gilded mare. Usually she was so put together, the strength of Denocte, rolled into one lady. Not today, not now. Soaked through and shivering just as badly as herself she looked almost frail. But it was the panic in her eyes that worried Luvena. She was relieved though that she took the pelt. She had worried that Isra would try to refuse it out of some foolish pride.
“Well that certainly is the result of being out in a storm now isn’t it?” she laughed, trying to brighten the mood. She cleared her throat after, still trying to -futilely mind you - shake the hoarseness out of her voice. She didn’t want to worry Israfel more than she already seemed to be.
It was hearing her stammer that broke her heart in two. She moved over to the other woman. “Hey”she murmured, stretching up to drape her head over her back, laying it over the soft pelt. “It’s alright. I’m alright. I’ve made it through worse than a little storm.” she stood there for a moment, hoping she could reassure her. If even a little. Finally she pulled away, shaking some of the water out of her mane as she did.“Go lie down” She gestured to the bed, where the girls were laying already. It came out more of a gentle order than an invitation, the way the other woman was gasping for air, she was a little worried that she might collapse.
Luvena was already headed for the shelves that housed all of her herbs, and reached for a small cup. Carefully she stretched a piece of gauze over the top, letting the center hang into the cup. Into it she placed a few leaves of chamomile, and a sprinkle of poppyseeds. She pulled a second cup for herself, and did the same, though she replaced the chamomile with feverfew, hoping that Isra wouldn’t take note of the difference. But, knowing that she would regret it if she left it for later. Carefully she poured water over top, letting it seep down through the gauze into the cups, taking care not to spill any over. Finally squeezing out any remaining moisture, before disposing of the herbs and the mesh. Her tea was never really any good. She wouldn’t light a flame to heat up the water, so it was always served at room temperature. But, it served its purpose well regardless.
With a quick smile at Israfel’s remark she held the cup out towards her. “Drink. How long were you out in that storm? You should stay here, for the night just in case you’ve caught a chill. And you can’t go back out in that”She laid down herself with what could only be described as an ungracious flop, nestling into the moss. “What were you doing out anyways?”
'Cause I'm not in a right state of mind
I just wish I had strength to admit it
My stubbornness will put up a fight
But I don't deserve to win it.
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.”
Warmth rolled off the other woman in waves. It wasn’t the same as the heat that she often gave off herself. Not the feverish clammy kind of warmth that felt sickening on either end. And it wasn’t the ashen blaze that Obyana had emitted either. All fury and rage. (Once she had mistaken it for passion).
No
This warmth was more like that of the hearths she’d laid by so many times in her youth. Or the joyous bonfires lit in the outer ring, with campfire songs, and careless dancing. It was smoldering, and though not quite soft… comforting all the same.
She could feel the tension leaving Israfel, almost all at once. There had seemed to be almost an alarming amount of it, all gone as the blazing woman softened under her embrace. “You’re okay,”she murmured again.
She watched as the other laid down. She had never seen her move in any way that wasn’t coordinated and purposeful. It made her heart flutter, to see that she was just as normal as the rest of them. That she felt safe enough here to show it. Or maybe Luvena was just looking too much into it, and Isra was just too tired to care.
She sipped her own tea as she joined Isra on the small bed, wrinkling her nose slightly at the bitter taste of steeped feverfew, waiting for it to kick in and quell the pain that was starting to bloom in her head. She hesitated for a moment, before curling herself into Isra’s side. Partly for warmth, but mostly… mostly to know what it was like to be close to her. (Though if asked, she would use the warmth as an excuse)
Oh and how quickly she knew that it was good. Even as she could feel the mare's heart hammering there was something so utterly calm about being near her. And vulnerable. As if the facade she’d seen upon every other meeting had crumbled, leaving a woman who cared far too much about everyone but herself. They were certainly alike in that sense.
Luvena flinched slightly as she saw the cup wobble in the air, bracing herself for the sound of shattering ceramic. It didn’t come though, instead only the small tap of it against the stone reached her. She softened at Israfels words, pressing her nose into her shoulder. “You don’t have to apologize,”she reassured. "You never have to apologize. not for caring"
She fell silent for a few moments then. Pondering her words. “You know I died once?”she started. “Not here. In Elysium, in the desert. I was done nursing my son, and that’s all I’d been promised. I’d accepted it. That fate would take me. It didn’t though. Someone decided that it was not my time, and I lived in eternity, for a little while. When Elysium fell, it did too.”She paused, remembering briefly what that had been like, to waltz around in a body strong enough to sustain her. “And yet I’m still here, and I don’t intend to leave anytime soon” she smiled.
“Though I suppose we should both stop prancing around in the worst summer storms I’ve ever seen.”
'Cause I'm not in a right state of mind
I just wish I had strength to admit it
My stubbornness will put up a fight
But I don't deserve to win it.
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.
She could feel every movement. Every twitch, or whisper of a breath. She had to stop herself from jumping, whenIsrafels wings spanned out ever so slightly, before settling back in their place. She spent a brief moment wondering if this was comfortable. Were her bones poking into the other womans side? Was this too much. But soon enough She could feel the other mare melt into it, and she quickly followed suit.
The heat that came off her was almost unimaginable. It didn’t burn, but she could feel it pulsating under the surface. Flickering and growing, like a flame. Yet it didn’t scare her. It was only warmth, and comfort, and good. Soon enough she managed to stop shivering, growing comfortably warm.
She could still fill Isras heart hammering. And wished she would touch the tea she’d made. Filled with herbs to calm her. But she knew that pushing never did any good. She was surprised by the touch. Not in a bad way.... But surprised none the less. Was this… an admission of something more? Or was she seeing things where there was nothing? Was she just hungry for love after losing it so many times?
She nodded. “Me too” she murmured softly. At The time… she had felt ready. She had accepted death with willing hands. Thinking that her boys were in safe hands. But now… now after having a taste of that. The thought of dying terrified her. She tried not to show it. But every day that fear curled tighter around her. She was getting old. Even now she was far older than she thought she’d ever make it too. She never thought she’d outlive her parents… her son, her friends. Yet here she was, and she didn’t want to let go of any of it.
She pulled herself out of that train of though quickly. Her ears perked as Israfel made her own admission of death. She grabbed her cup again, slowly sipping at the bitter drink. She shuddered at the mention of her burning, the image forming clearly in her mind. Israfel, writhing on the ground, buried in flames- She was shaken quickly by the thought as she nearly dropped the cup. She took another sip, the cub wobbling slightly in the air, before she finally set it down.
“I should not like to meet your father then” she replied simply. “He sounds a cruel man”
“I’m glad I ended up here too…” she replied quietly. “I miss…” she paused for a moment. “I miss Herstial, and Elysium… my boys… but… Novus has given me another chance. To start again. To redo it all.”she hesitated again, words hovering at the tip of her tongue. “And you’re here”
'Cause I'm not in a right state of mind
I just wish I had strength to admit it
My stubbornness will put up a fight
But I don't deserve to win it.
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.’
She disagreed. Only a cruel man could do that to his daughter. But then she understood as well. She had never thought Obyana cruel. Before that day, he had always been kind to her. Had brought her flowers from the meadow. Had laid beside her when she was too frail to leave her bed. He had been her comfort, her safety net. But he had also been a lie. She had never thought Cavalier cruel either. A woman who had had so much cruelty enacted upon her, by a wolf who couldn’t just let them live in peace. But how could you just leave, with a child, without a word. And just before she could have really, truly lived with them. If only for a moment.
She had never seen eyes so red. Striking as the flames they wielded. Looking at them, it was like there was nothing else in the world. Nothing but ember struck eyes, and moonwashed gold. Her words struck her sharply, and she made an effort to still her breath. What if this was just another false hope, of something more. She nodded. “Hopefully a while yet…” she murmured.
She closed her eyes for a moment. The poppyseed in her drink, the warmth, the hard trek through the storm… the weariness was starting to hit her. She looked up though. As Isra thanked her, and apologized. “Stop apologizing” she chided with a gentle laugh. “Where you lack in… emotional finesse I can make up for. And you can fill in for what I lack in strength. Which is a great deal”
And then they were even closer yet. This time she wasn’t the one to shift closer. It was the other mare. For warmth… of course for warmth. But Israfel was so warm already. She was all warmth. All soft fiery heat. And so… for something else. She closed her eyes again, laying her head gently next to the other woman, her head just softly pressed again her.
And as she drifted off to sleep. She knew… that though neither of them had said anything. Though it was tenuous, and new… This feeling, the air between them. This time it wasn’t a lie.
