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One.
The noise in the Academy clinic’s waiting room settled around them like a blanket, though less warm and more acutely present, with the quiet sounds of children crying and tired adults interspersing the space between the couple. Pierre held her arm in one hand gently, the other pressing the blood soaked cloth into the palm of her injured hand securely, murmuring softly under his breath when Sciel winced, her arm jerking minutely to get away from the intermittent bursts of pain.
“Just breathe in and out. Someone will be with us soon.”
Sciel merely let out a breath, a mix between a sigh and a groan and she shifted in her seat, eyes darting from the sniffling child bundled in his mother’s arms by the corner to the cross looking old woman who was holding onto her crying daughter’s arms. Closing her eyes, she tried to do what Pierre had gently instructed her to do, breathing in through her nose and exhaling through her mouth, willing the sharp throbbing on her palm away with each breath.
One-
Pierre hummed encouragingly.
“There we go.”
Two-
“We’ll get something sweet once we get your hand fixed.”
Three-
“Sciel?”
A kindly looking woman called out to them, waiting patiently as Pierre helped Sciel out of the chair and towards the room she gestured to, nodding along to the instructions the woman gave them.
“Lune will be with you shortly.”
The name had Sciel jolting to attention but the surprise was soon chased away by the ache paralysing her arm demanding most of her attention, leaving Sciel to quickly abandon the sudden surge of feelings in her chest. She merely nodded tightly at the woman before closing her eyes, turning her face into Pierre’s chest for comfort.
(Could it be-)
Pierre stroked her hair with his free hand, murmuring quiet words into her forehead.
“It’ll be better soon.”
The room was silent, apart from Sciel’s measured breathing, before the hustle from the clinic seeped through the room again, the door to the examination space opening and closing in a brusque manner. There was a huff, a mumble of a greeting from Pierre before a soft voice called for Sciel, familiar and yet long forgotten.
“Sciel? May I please take a look at your hand?”
Sciel lifted her head to the voice, blinking once, twice as Lune’s face greeted her, passive and professional as she stared at Sciel expectantly. A little taken aback, Sciel extended her hand out slowly, her lips quivering slightly as words lost its way from her vocal cords to the tip of her tongue, tasting like ash at the back of her throat.
(There was a flash of a memory, of a softer face, less angles, less lines, less stress, with a gentle voice and an equally gentle touch.
There was the briefest feeling of lips brushing together, of a sound that sounded like her name in a whisper, a prayer, a psalm offered to a goddess that was intent on destroying them all.
There was a feeling of safety, of home, before being greeted with the morning sun and the absence of moonlight.
There was a memory.
And that was all it was.)
Lune took her hand carefully, steady fingers peeling away the blood soaked cloth with slow precision, taking care to take appropriate pauses to wiggle any stray material catching against the torn flesh, revealing a deep and angry looking gash. Sciel’s palm was split almost all the way through, with the briefest hints of white, her fingers twitching intermittently as Lune prodded at the wound, the rough pads of her fingers almost comforting against the pulsating injury.
Pierre spoke up worriedly, one arm wrapped around Sciel’s shoulders and the other helping prop up the injured arm.
“Will you be able to fix it? Does she need surgery?”
Lune hummed, a soft string of a song unknown, and Sciel watched as green light began to form at her fingertips, warm and relieving, easing the harsh pain slowly into something a little more manageable. She opened her mouth to speak, words immediately withering away when Lune looked up at her, molten brown impassive but not unkind, a practiced smile stretching her lips.
“I’ll have to clean it first before I can fix it. Could you tell me how you got this? It would help with your recovery plan.”
Pierre immediately launched into an explanation about a kid running past a farmhand using a sickle and Sciel’s quick reaction in grabbing said sickle with her bare hands before it could make contact with the child and ending up splitting her palm open, leaving open spots for Lune to question about tetanus and the agriculture that was present in the farm. While the pair was conversing, Sciel sat as still as she could, staring unabashedly at the dark haired woman as the health professional moved about the room, collecting supplies to start cleaning Sciel’s wound.
She hissed when Lune dabbed a wet towelette over her palm, the white of the material immediately dyed red with her blood. The wound was scoured and disinfected thoroughly, Lune’s hands moving in practiced hand motions as the blood was cleared away to reveal the white of the bone underneath, pale and striking, all while explaining each step for the couple.
Pierre let out a pained whimper and his arm tightened around Sciel’s shoulders, vocalising Sciel’s internal feelings as they both stared at the aftermath of Sciel’s heroism. Lune, for her part, did not react to the pair, merely continuing her job efficiently, disposing the bloodied items into a yellow bin before pulling off her gloves, dropping them into the bin as well.
She walked back to them, the practised smile pulled into a slightly more expressive one as she regarded the both of them sympathetically.
“It definitely looks bad but it’s nothing I can’t fix up quickly.”
Sciel spoke up for the first time since they arrived at the clinic, her voice scratchy and low, watching Lune’s face carefully and feeling a small pocket of joy burst behind her ribs when Lune turned her full attention onto Sciel’s face, molten gold meeting with viridescent sea after years of eclipse.
“I don’t need surgery?”
Lune shook her head, a softer expression on her face, but nonetheless polite and impassive, and she waved her left arm, drawing the pair’s attention to raised gold lines that Sciel had missed earlier.
“I can knit flesh and bone back together with chroma with no issue. I’ll just prescribe medication and have you get some shots for any lingering infection.”
She waited for Sciel to nod in understanding before reaching out of her injured palm, bare hands facing upwards for Sciel to place her hand in. Sciel swallowed tightly, instinctively looking up to Pierre, who nodded encouragingly, before positioning her hand on the curve of Lune’s fingers. Warmth seeped through her skin, calluses brushing past the back of her hand and Lune spoke up again, her voice low and calming.
“You might feel a slight tingling or a ticklish sensation. That’s completely normal.”
As she spoke, green light enveloped Sciel’s palm again, running a little hotter than before, as heat suffused through her skin, sending sparks up Sciel’s wrist and through her veins, the tingling that Lune warned her about pooling at her elbow before travelling up her arm to her shoulder. An odd sensation gathered at her palm, sending an almost searing sensation down her fingertips, causing her arm to jerk involuntarily.
Lune adjusted her hold as though expecting it, her eyes focused solely on Sciel’s hand, murmuring gently as she continued her ministrations.
“You’ll be feeling as though there should be pain right now as I’m knitting back the median and ulnar nerves back to their respective thenar and hypothenar muscles. Just bear with it for the moment, it should be done in a minute.”
True to her word, the burning subsided after a while, leaving behind sparks of kindling that was comforting. Sciel let out a breath she didn’t realise she was holding and leant against Pierre, still watching Lune as the healing practitioner raised one hand to cover the top of Sciel’s wrist, fingers curling around the jut of the bone.
“I’ll be checking on the dorsal and palmar muscles now. They are responsible for finger movements which I assume would be very important for a farmer.”
Lune shot her another smile, a little more playful, a little less professional and Sciel let out a breath of a laugh, responding in kind.
“I think finger movements are important for anyone.”
Lune nodded in assent, fingertips drawing a line down Sciel’s healed palm, before pressing into the heel of her thumb and pulling. She gave Sciel a satisfied look when Sciel curled her fingers in response to the ticklish sensation, her wrist jerking upwards when Lune tugged at each finger experimentally.
“Well, I can safely say all motor and fine motor functions seem to be working fine. I’ll have the assistants draw up some exercises to maintain it. Try to stay away from heavy duty work on the farm for about a month to make sure that it is all healed up.”
Lune returned Sciel’s hand with a sort of reverence that a scientist might have for a successful experiment, dark eyes alight with gold sparks and stardust. She gave Sciel another nod when Sciel answered obediently, head lowering in gratitude as the dark haired woman took a step back.
“I will. Thank you so much for mending my hand.”
Lune waved a hand in dismissal, the practiced smile sliding back onto her face as she headed towards the sink.
“It’s my job. Just sit here for a bit, someone will be in to administer those shots I told you about as well as the medication you have to finish for when you get back home.”
Wiping her hands with a paper towel, she gave Sciel and Pierre another nod before exiting the room swiftly, leaving behind Pierre who was stammering his thanks and Sciel who stared after her, feeling as though someone had dug at her insides, leaving her with a void that had not existed previously, the solid foundation of what she had built for herself shaken with Lune’s reappearance in her life.
The image of Lune haunted her through the shots and even through the night, as she laid in bed next to her husband, the claws of a memory curling around the edges of her dreams, where a kinder smile greeted her, before fading away into a practiced one, professional and impassive, as though that other smile never existed.
(And when she woke in the morning, the void she felt the day before had vanished, filled with the love and care heaped upon her by her husband and soon the memory of a kind smile, a smile that she could have loved faded back into the recesses of her mind.
Out of sight.
Out of mind.)
***
Staring into a world that only consisted of you.
You’re the end for me.
You’re the last moment of me.
***
Two.
Sciel let out a muffled groan as Sophie helped her through the clinic’s door, accidentally jostling her a little too roughly as the dark haired woman called out to the staff. She leant on Sophie heavily, keeping as much weight off of her right ankle, her face tight when a sandy haired man came up to her with a concerned expression, eyes flickering towards her foot which was bent in an odd ankle, his voice low and calming.
“Everything will be alright, Miss. Let’s get you sorted with a wheelchair.”
Another staff member rolled a wheelchair behind Sciel and eased her onto the chair carefully, taking care to raise the injured foot slightly. Sighing in relief, Sciel looked over to Sophie who had taken it upon herself to explain the situation to the clinic nurse, somehow able to confirm Sciel’s medical history and drug allergies. A wry smile pulled at the corner of her lips and Sciel shook her head, once again amazed at Sophie’s ability to retain even the littlest of details.
She looked back down at her foot, wincing a little at the sight of her broken ankle, the aftermath of snatching a running child off the streets before a cart could run over him. However, as much pain as she was in, Sciel couldn’t muster up any regret, not with the smile that had greeted her when she looked down at that chubby-faced toddler, bright and trusting and unafraid of the world just yet.
A soft creak jolted her out of her thoughts as the chair was wheeled into an examination room without fanfare, the severity of her injury allowing her to skip ahead a room filled with sniffling children and adults pretending as though they were coughing. Sophie followed quietly, accepting the clipboard the nurse passed to her with a nod of her head before taking her position beside Sciel.
“Do you want me to stay or should I run to get Pierre?”
Sciel paused for a moment, mulling on her choices before ultimately deciding on-
“Could you please stay? I’d prefer if there was someone around while they examine my leg and Pierre won’t be back till late anyways.”
Sophie let out a breath, a soft sound that conveyed her relief and her sympathy as her shoulders were still set in the tense position they had been in prior. She reached over and held Sciel’s hand gently, her thumb brushing against the faint scar on her palm and she murmured quietly, resting the clipboard on her lap.
“Once we get you situated, I’ll get Gustave to go look for Pierre.”
Sciel squeezed her hand in gratitude, her mouth opening and then closing with a click when the door opened unceremoniously, a dark haired woman walking briskly through the threshold, her face turned towards the corridor as she spoke to an unseen person.
“-could we see about getting a room in the hospice as well? Thank you.”
Her hand tightened around Sophie’s when Lune turned back towards them with that same practiced smile that had accompanied Sciel throughout her last appointment. Sophie, for her part, smiled brightly in return, her shoulders still slightly raised despite relief present in the lines of her face.
“Lune! I didn’t realise you were on duty today!”
Lune’s expression did not change, merely lowering her chin in acknowledgment of Sophie, a quiet greeting escaping her lips before her focus went back towards Sciel, her gaze lingering on the brunette’s face before her eyes dropped towards the raised foot. Sophie did not seem put off by the aloofness, instead settling back into her chair, tension easing slightly from her shoulders.
Lune took a step towards Sciel and knelt down gingerly, her fingertips lit with a soft blue glow and she stared at her ankle for a moment before looking up towards Sciel, her expression softening to that same sympathetic look that she had given Sciel the appointment prior. She placed her fingers on the injury, light and careful and she questioned Sciel gently, her body still.
“Is it alright if I take a look at this while you tell me what happened?”
Sciel leant forward, fingers tight around Sophie’s and responded tightly, feeling the pain ebb away the longer Lune’s fingers lingered.
“Yes, that’s fine.”
She began recounting the events that had left her in this position, pausing ever so often to gasp in pain when Lune manoeuvred her foot ever so slightly, Sophie jumping in to fill the space with her own recollections. Though disjointed and probably lacking in specific detail considering how quickly the accident occurred, between the both of them, they were able to paint a concise picture, all while Lune nodded along to the story, her fingers drawing minute circles and encasing Sciel’s foot in a shimmering green bubble.
“Fortunately, it seems like it is a simple compound fracture caused by trauma. Unfortunately, based on my preliminary findings, it seems to be a displaced butterfly fracture, which complicates the healing process a little.”
Lune ran her fingers against her foot, drawing silver lines across tanned skin before looking back up to Sciel, speaking in that gentle way that reminded Sciel of wind chimes, soft and unassuming, soothing Sciel’s frayed nerves with the gentlest of caress.
“I will have to reset your bones, which as it sounds, is a painful process but it is done under anaesthesia. Then I’ll place it in a cast to keep the foot stable.”
She waited for Sciel to nod in acknowledgement before continuing.
“After that, instead of doing open surgery to place implants, I’ll be manipulating chroma to aid in bone strengthening and as well as muscle formation. It will also help with any ligament or tendon injury.”
Sciel let out a breath, quiet and relieved and she shook her head, squeezing Sophie’s hand in hers.
“Sounds painful but uncomplicated. Is there something else that makes it complicated?”
Lune gave her an apologetic smile, this time taking care to address both Sophie and Sciel.
“Unfortunately, because it’s such a long and delicate process, our usual recommendation is for you to stay in the Academy’s hospice while treatment is ongoing to prevent any further injuries should we send you home.”
Sophie, however, leant forward worriedly, her previous demeanour replaced with a frantic sort of energy.
“But you can fix it? You wouldn’t need to amputate?”
They both turned to look at Sophie, Sciel taking in the hard set of her jaw to the serious look in her eyes, dark and fearful as memories swirled behind a setting sun. They were memories that Sciel shared, as the image of Gustave, clutching at his arm, face wrought with pain and desperation as he tried to pull free from a machine wreckage that had claimed lives and maimed others.
Sciel remembered the vigil Sophie had kept by Gustave’s bed, hands lingering at the space that used to make up Gustave’s left arm.
Lune reached forward, slowly, hesitantly, and placed a hand over their joined ones, patting once, twice before pulling away, her aloofness replaced with something quieter, tender.
“Yes. Thankfully, despite it being a butterfly break, it is a clean break. We just need Sciel to stay with us so that she’s not on her feet before it’s recommended to do so.”
Sophie hummed thoughtfully, her gaze sliding over to Sciel, her demeanour slightly playful now that she was no longer wracked with worry.
“That makes sense. Someone like Sciel might think she’s all healed up because it’s no longer hindering her and she might come back with an amputated foot.”
Sciel reached over and hit Sophie in the shoulder, her mouth opened in mock outrage.
“I know better than to not listen to a professional!”
Sophie let out a snort, drawing her eyes towards Lune who had straightened up in front of them.
“What do you think, Lune? Do you think Sciel would be the type of person to sit quietly at home?”
Lune let out a laugh but did not answer, merely shaking her head and getting to her feet, opting to move towards the sink with the whispers of her laughter sinking into notches of Sciel’s mind and burying itself within them. Sophie grinned at Sciel, clearly taking Lune’s silence as agreement and nudged her in the shoulder, a giggle escaping her lips when Sciel pouted at her, the throbbing in her foot forgotten.
(Out of the corner of Sciel’s eyes, she spied an open expression on Lune’s face, that kind, soft smile that remained in the recesses of her memories playing on the dark haired woman’s lips before it was hidden away, tucked behind that impassive expression that she sported so often.
Unbidden, Sciel folded it into the crevices of the pillars she had built inside her chest, easing it beside the soft breath of laughter that ran through her veins like lava.)
*
Sciel was admitted almost immediately, rushed towards the treatment theatre after she had filled out the appropriate paperwork. They laid her out onto a metal table, icy cold even through the thick cotton material of the hospital gown they had given her to change into, and bustled around her, propping her injured leg up onto a stirrup, the green bubble still shimmering around the ankle. The anaesthetist spoke to her quietly, concisely but gently and began administering the dose upon her acknowledgement, setting up IV lines that ran up both her arms, small and unassuming as white medication ran through the tubing.
The last thing Sciel remembered was a mask being placed over her face and the flash of golden chroma at the corner of her eyes.
And the first thing she saw upon waking up was Pierre’s worried face and the white cast encompassing her entire foot, propped up in the air by straps tied to the ceiling, with flower arrangements decorating one side of her room. The pain that was previously missing due to Lune’s magic was back, if only in a dull throbbing sensation, wrapping around the base of her foot in delicate claws and reminding her that it existed and it was here to stay.
Or at least until Lune worked her magic.
(Literally.)
Pierre, busy as he was trying to run the bustling farm without her, came by almost every day, usually towards the end of the day, with flowers in hand and something sweet from the bakery down the road. Sometimes, he would appear with Sophie and Gustave and on one rare occasion, Emma had pulled herself away from council duties to visit, her face set in mock frustration at Sciel’s tendency to be a hero.
But Lune was noticeably absent.
She had to have come by, as a nurse had stated that Lune was one of the few people who could manipulate chroma with the right amount of care and delicacy required to stitch tendons, ligaments, and nerves to bone to have a working ankle again. But Sciel doesn’t see Lune for the duration of her treatment, not even a glimpse of golden chroma or dark hair, just the fading sensation of pain in her leg and painted pictos on her cast arranged in constellations.
These constellations served as her companion, giving Sciel something to pick apart those quiet moments at night when she was alone, left to her own devices, decorating the spaces in her dreams with wishes made from stardust and smiles that spoke of things that were holy and true.
And then-
*
She woke up suddenly, the sudden kind of waking brought on by the briefest of whispers, the barest of movements, light as she was in her sleep. Blinking once, twice, staring at the ceiling, Sciel laid there, momentarily confused as to why she was awake when she realised there was a faint glow of light in her room, dim enough not to draw attention, yet bright enough to illuminate the end of her bed.
She looked down towards the source of light, jolting slightly when she saw Lune standing there, two hands over her lifted foot, the source of the light cupped delicately between her palms and the white of her cast, her brow furrowed in concentration as she concentrated on Sciel’s foot. Holding her breath, Sciel continued to observe Lune, eyes flickering from the soft white light to the tiny peek of Lune’s tongue poking out from her lips, trying her best to stay as still as possible.
And then Lune’s face pulled into an odd expression, her eyebrows meeting in the middle as the faint pearlescent glow faded. Sciel watched as she frowned to herself, absentmindedly turning towards the head of the bed and then jerking back in a stilted manner when she saw Sciel staring at her, a wrangled yelp tearing from her throat.
“Holy-”
She slapped her hand over her mouth, muffling the curse that was sure to follow, a dull thud ensuing as she stumbled on her back foot, her eyes wide with shock.
Sciel slowly rose to a sitting position, a smile tugging at her lips at the sight of Lune’s reaction, open and honest and real, the sharp cut of her jaw and the tattoo running down the left side of her face lovingly framed by the moonlight that filtered through the window. Lune lowered her hand slowly, taking a deep breath as her expression smoothened out, stepping towards Sciel with light steps, speaking in that low undertone that was often heard in places of healing and prayer.
“When did you wake up?”
Sciel rearranged her pillows haphazardly, hands pausing when Lune moved in to prop them up behind her back securely, leaving her to breathe her answer in that momentary space of breath that they shared.
“Just a few moments ago. There was something that nudged me out of my sleep and then I saw light at the end of my bed and-”
She trailed off, gesturing to her foot, Lune frowning in response as she stepped away from Sciel.
“I was manipulating your chroma as part of your treatment while you were asleep as it would cause you less discomfort but if you felt pain during it, maybe I need to check-”
Sciel interrupted her quickly, hands flapping in a circle.
“No, no- There was no pain, it’s just one of those things where you just wake up in the middle of the night for no reason.”
There was a pause as Lune took the time to stare at her appraisingly, eyes glittering and flaked with silver, stardust spilling from behind dark eyelashes, causing a lump to form at the back of her throat, molten heat that spilled from her sternum and into the spaces between her ribs.
And then Lune blinked, dreams that consisted of starlight chased away by the dim radiance of reality, her fingers reaching out and running past Sciel’s cast gently.
“Okay. But if there’s any pain, you need to let me know. There’s still time to correct anything that feels out of place.”
Sciel nodded tightly, her eyes drawn towards Lune’s arm, where the gold of her tattoos seemed to draw out a soft shimmer from the constellations painted on her cast. Unbidden, the tightness in her trachea relaxed, giving just enough space for Sciel’s words to spill forward, her mind desperately turning away from the stories and wishes tucked away behind molten brown.
“Are those also part of the treatment?”
Lune’s gaze followed hers, landing on the drawings and she let out a soft breath, chin tucking downwards as though she was embarrassed.
“Oh, those-”
There was a hitch in her breath, before she released it slowly, her face turned away from Sciel as she continued.
“They aren’t part of the treatment. They are just-”
Her fingers flexed against the cast, gold splayed across white before balling into a fist.
“These are just amalgamations of pictos and constellations that speak of well wishes and good dreams. Of everlasting health and happiness, that you should never feel discomfort or pain throughout this.”
Sciel wrung her fingers together, feeling that same searing heat run past through her chest and into the notches of her spine, twisting and wrapping tendrils of something into the deep recesses of her chest, in sections that Sciel didn’t even realise existed. She leant forward, the hammock straining with the sudden shift of weight, her words clumsy and inadequate.
“They seem to work quite well, I’ve not felt any discomfort the entire time I was here. Thank you for that.”
Lune’s shoulders jerked slightly as she kept her face turned away, her voice even and subdued.
“I’m glad.”
Her fingers brushed against the edge of the cast before pulling away, leaving Sciel with that odd sort of loneliness lingering in the pits of her stomach, a strange ache that seemed to crop up every time she had a moment with Lune.
“I should leave you to get some rest. You will only get better if your body has the energy to heal.”
Without waiting for a response, Lune left the room quickly, sweeping across the floor almost as though she had flown across the space, leaving Sciel staring after her, the ache in her chest present and real and something Sciel does not want to quantify.
(And there was that memory again, of kind smiles and soft touches, a whisper of a psalm, delicate and quiet and offered up with open palms that seemed to hold the skies and the stars and everything in between.)
*
Lune was not present when the cast was removed, the carefully drawn constellations cut through mercilessly by the same therapist that had helped Sciel previously with her hand, a bright young woman who split plaster open with a wide smile and a happy countenance.
“Aren’t you so glad to be rid of this thing?”
Pierre piped up merrily, happiness lining his face and his hands comforting on Sciel’s shoulders, present and warm and real.
“She’d be ecstatic to get back on her feet, that’s for sure.”
The therapist laughed along with Pierre, placing the pieces of the cast to one side as she continued to remove it.
“Well, not quite yet. There’s still quite a ways to go, starting with some physical therapy to get Sciel back into shape.”
Pierre nodded, attentive and conscientious as the therapist rattled off the plan she had for Sciel, adjusted for someone as active as Sciel, with an ankle made whole by magic.
“-we would have to do some resistance exercises as well to help with the muscle development and strengthening-”
Sciel, for her part, listened partially, as she stared at the ruined pieces of drawing, feeling as though she lost something precious, something she was unable to voice.
(There was a moment in the past, when she woke up alone, bathed in sunlight and warmth and feeling indescribably cold as she looked around, feeling the space beside her acutely as though something precious had left her.)
***
The voice that called to me.
The song that flowers sing to birds.
Faded away into a shimmering silver fog.
But forever in my memory, held in the arms of the person who had left.
***
Three.
There was only pain.
There were thorns in her throat and fire in her lungs. There were ashes lingering in the abscess of where her heart should be, an empty space filled with nothing, nothing, nothing, not since he left, not since he was taken-
There was a taste of something cold and unforgiving at the back of her tongue, coals raked through her as her hands, wretched and scarred tried desperately to part water and find him-
And it burned.
It burned and it burned and it was all Sciel could feel.
Searing white heat that ran through her veins as sharp bursts of agony filled her body, salt and brine coating her tongue with the taste of time gotten and time lost, the image of something good and kind lost beneath something that she could never fight.
And then-
*
Her eyes flew open, the feeling of ashes and dust falling with her tears, and a cough wracked out of her, anguished and desolate as the taste of metal and salt heaved itself from her chest. She groaned, tired and deplorable, as her eyes were kept open by cold fingers, icy and wet against her face as rain fell around them, the storm raging in the background.
Lune, drenched in water pelting against her, hair sticking to her forehead, a grim expression plastered across her face as she looked down at Sciel, eyes dark and tumultuous. There was a brief flicker of fire behind brown eyes before it was snuffed away, Lune adjusting her hand to cover Sciel’s eyes resolutely, blocking the brunette from her surroundings.
Surroundings she soon recognised as her friends shouting for her, with the feeling of many hands upon her, drawing away the searing heat she felt on her body.
She opened her mouth to speak but Lune shushed her gently, voice carried over the sound of thunder and waves, her thumb brushing against her forehead.
“Go back to sleep, Sciel. It’ll be over soon.”
She tried to fight it but Lune’s hand suddenly glowed, heady and potent and she found herself slipping into the void.
And then-
*
When she woke, she woke with grief in her chest, clawing through her throat with vengeance and a void in her heart, her stomach, her being, her love leaking out of her without any place to go.
Sciel woke feeling everything and nothing, staring blankly at the wall opposite her as the therapist from before, the therapist who was bright and young, spoke to her sombrely and softly, words falling from her mouth carefully as though it would shatter Sciel.
(Sciel thought nothing could break her after that.
But-)
She woke with grief in her chest and grief in her veins, running through her body till it reached the ends of her fingers. She pressed her fingers deeper into the stitches that held her body together, trying to claw against herself, to bring back the piece of Pierre that she had thoughtlessly thrown aside, fingers which were pressed tightly against a barren abdomen.
Barren from the choice she had taken, a choice she made without knowing and a choice that had ultimately led to more loss.
When she woke, Sciel woke with the feeling of loss and heartache, to the looks of sympathy and fear, to the sound of a storm that had taken so much from her and still continued to take and take and take.
(They tell her that it wasn’t impossible but it would be difficult should she want children again, battered as her body was from the ocean that was both unforgiving and ruthless.
She only heard of the way she had failed at something Pierre had entrusted to her without even knowing.)
The therapist smiled, sad and small and she reached out to touch Sciel, her touch so light it felt like wind against Sciel’s skin and she said-
*
(They tell her that she was lucky to be alive.)
*
(She swallowed her words, irate and irrational, riddled with spite and poison.
What is so lucky about being alive?)
*
A cool hand pressed against her forehead, drawing her out from the clutches of a fitful sleep, where the pale face of Piere stared at her going, why, why, why, with a scream clawing at the back of throat and drawing the taste of metal onto her tongue. Sciel blinked rapidly, hands fisting the bedsheets, breath coming in gasps as she tried to gather her wits, a brief moment where everything was dark and terrifying and bad before her eyes landed on Lune standing beside her, eyes glittering under the illumination of moonlight.
Lune drew her hand back, lips pulled into a thin line as Sciel followed the golden glow of chroma that was etched into her skin with her gaze. There were no words exchanged between them, Sciel staring at the golden lines while Lune bore holes into the side of her face before Lune shifted away from the bed, feet shuffling silently against the floor.
She made it about two steps before Sciel spoke up, tired and accusing, sheets rustling around her as she sat up heavily on the bed.
“Why did you save me?”
Lune paused, her shoulders drawing up to her ears before she turned around slowly, the expression on her face hidden by the gloom.
“What do you mean?”
Sciel repeated herself, her words choppy and heated as the energy that she lacked suddenly surged in her chest at the sight of Lune and the memory of her leaning over Sciel’s prone body, resolutely pulling her from the quiet embrace of death.
“Why did you save me?! I wanted to- I would’ve- If it weren’t for you pulling me out of the water, I would’ve-”
(-joined Pierre. Never known the ache that came with a womb that had its occupant forcefully torn from her insides. Never have to live with the knowledge that she did this, that this was her fault-)
Lune did not move closer, nor did she raise her voice to match Sciel’s increasingly loud questions but her words cut through the noise easily, with the same calm that Sciel has come to associate with her every time she set foot into this place of healing.
“I did not pull you out of the water. I found you, by the docks, tucked away carefully in a crook away from the waves. All I did was heal you, as is my responsibility. The person who pulled you out was someone else.”
Sciel drew in a shaky breath.
“Then why did you heal me- You would’ve known, you’re smart enough to have known-”
Lune took a step towards her, her face coming into view under the moonlight, a muted sort of expression that hid tumultuous anger beneath it.
“Did you expect me to leave you to die? To turn a blind eye and let your time be cut short? Just because you think it’s okay to cut yours short doesn’t mean I have to stand here and help you!”
She pressed on, ignoring Sciel’s attempt at cutting her off, her tone even, her words hard.
“I dedicated my whole life to research for the sake of Lumiere. What little rest I can take, I give it up so that I can use said research to heal the people of Lumiere and despite you preemptively trying to end it, you’re one of them! ”
Sciel flinched back, stricken as Lune glared at her, the dark haired woman taking another step forward, brown eyes dipping into molten lava, flashing dangerously under the silver of the moonlight. Silence hung over them heavily, settling onto Sciel’s shoulders with a weight that she had carried inside the ruins of her chest, heavy and leaden.
She inhaled sharply, a hitched sound that seemed to echo through the still room, before reaching up to wipe at her face, her eyes, pressing her fingers into the indents of her cheeks before dropping her hands. She looked at her hands, looked at the new scars that marred the back of her hands and accompanied that one old scar at the palm and she whispered softly, breathing her question out into the open as the grief settled into her chest again.
(Where it nestled into an empty home, marrying the walls with its tears and its screams.)
“What time do I have when I feel like my insides are spilling out with every breath I take? What is time to me when it has taken everything that is precious to me?”
She looked up to Lune, her voice wavering, her fingers trembling.
“What does time matter to me when everyone I love has left me?”
Lune met her gaze steadily, the righteous fire that was present behind brown eyes earlier dying down a gentle kindling of a warm hearth, her expression softening to something from Sciel’s past, the kind of look that had lingered at the edges of Sciel’s dream, present but never fixed.
“Time should matter to you. Because if you had succeeded in cutting it short, who else would be around to mourn and remember Pierre?”
There was a sound in Sciel’s ears, the sort of shattering that came with a piercing honesty, that cut through the sludge that had mired her into the ground after the news of Pierre’s death was delivered to her. It slammed into the back of her mind like a hammer, breaking through the wall that she had erected as she stared at Lune, eyes wide and breath shaky.
“What-”
Lune took a step forward, her shoulders dropping, her stance a little less tense.
“Death only applies to us if there is no one to remember us. As long as you draw breath, as long as you continue to keep love in your heart and his memory in your soul, Pierre will be with you always.”
Sciel felt like she had been punched, her chest growing a little too tight as tears gathered at the corner of her eyes.
“I-”
Lune moved to her side, bringing her hand towards Sciel’s upper arm and she patted it once, a gentle tap that bloomed warmth on her skin, radiating from the spot her hand had touched and through her body. There were no words that left her lips but the small gesture spoke volumes, for Lune does not give out comfort freely.
(Not since-)
She swallowed tightly and lowered her eyes, tears running down her cheeks as she spoke at her hands.
“I don’t know if I have that kind of strength.”
There was a brief moment where the air hung still before Lune’s hand pressed against the side of her face, drawing Sciel’s gaze away from her lap and towards her, brown eyes soft and kind and open, the kind of openness that Sciel has only seen once, briefly, momentarily, accompanied by a softer smile coloured by the silhouette of the stars.
“What’s your favourite colour?”
Sciel blinked, once, twice, confusion pulling at her lips and she stared up at Lune. Lune’s lips twitched a little and she let out a soft breath, head lowering just so, hair falling over her eyes.
“Sorry, it’s a bit left field. But I promise there’s a point.”
Sciel continued to stare before closing her eyes, her answer breathed out quietly into the space between them.
“Purple. The kind of purple that comes with the sunset, just as the sun is dipping beneath the waves.”
“Okay.”
The hand cupping her jaw grew warm, blooming and fanning out till it was just shy of uncomfortable. Lune’s palm left her face moments later, her fingertips lingering at the sharp edge of Sciel’s jaw before it drew a path down the side of her neck, her touch so light that Sciel could almost swear she was hallucinating it if it weren’t for the resulting heat that seeped into her veins.
Lune’s fingers lingered over her pulse point, tapping to the steady thump, thump, thump of her heartbeat, and she drew a shape, formless and imperceptible, her thumb brushing against the divot between her neck and her chest.
A soft glow accompanied the warmth and all Sciel could see was the dark and black and shimmery purple that emanated from her body, forming lines in the air before coming towards her, pressing kisses on her skin, light and airy. There was a beat and another burst of purple swirled in front of her, luminescent and pastel, wrapping itself into constellations that were filled with stardust.
Sciel looked up at Lune, eyes wide with wonder.
“Lune?”
Lune pulled her hand away, drawing a line of lilac towards her body before it dissipated, glitter lingering in the air before vanishing into the dark of the room.
“You’ve always weathered through everything with the kind of strength and kindness that most people struggle to even comprehend. But strength can break, even if it’s someone as good as you.”
She waited for Sciel to nod before continuing.
“These pictos, there isn't any value to it in an expedition. But before this, when time wasn’t against us, people used to use these as part of a prayer.”
Her hand stretched outward, as though wanting to touch, but never quite reaching.
“They are filled with wishes, thoughts, and prayers. Not just from me, but from everyone else who loves you.”
Sciel reached for her neck, fingers following the lines that marked the affection that Lune is trying to remind her of. Lune’s hand closed the distance and her fingers lingered on the back of Sciel’s hand, her voice quiet and unassuming.
“You might not have the strength for it now. But I believe you’ll find it again. Just like how you did all those years ago at the Crooked Tower.”
She withdrew her hand, stepping away from Sciel, leaving Sciel to cup at her own neck, cradling the heat between her fingers, where the whispers of wishes and psalms and all things holy were etched onto her neck temporarily, heat travelling from her pulse point and down her veins, bringing back warmth into her cold, cold heart.
“In time, you’ll manage. With time, you’ll love again. And at the end, you’ll see Pierre again. But only when time comes for you.”
She turned towards the door, steps quiet against the tiles, pausing only when Sciel spoke up, voice filled with unshed tears.
“Thank you, Lune.”
*
(She doesn’t see Lune again after that, not at night when she pressed her fingers against the lines etched onto her body, bright and true and filled with wishes made of stardust, or in the morning when Gustave came with Sophie and Emma, relieved smiles plastered across their faces as they tried their best to support her.
She doesn’t see Lune when she was discharged, or when she made the decision to join the Academy, folding herself into the ranks of expeditioners who wanted a better future for Lumiere, holding the fading lines of purple that spoke of Pierre’s smile and his gentle cadence when he called for her.
She doesn’t see Lune till after, after, when the lines of purple were marked upon her permanently, by a hand that was decidedly not Lune.
And by then, the Lune from the Crooked Tower, Lune who had pushed her to live and remember, Lune who had taken the time to carve out pictos that were ultimately useless to her research-
She was not the Lune from the time in the dark, illuminated by moonlight, with a quiet voice and a softer smile.
But Sciel watched this Lune and waited.
Because there was strength in living and there was strength in memory and there was strength in waiting for something that would not appear for a long time.
And just as Lune said, Sciel is filled with that kind of strength.)
***
Memories so clear that I’ll never forget.
These beautiful moments that you left behind just like a song.
Even when stars fade, you’d still be with me, held between my fingers so close to my heart.
***
Four.
She found Lune by the tables, staring down at the maps that she had drawn for their expedition, black lines inked across brown parchment, corners dotted with small writing that could only be notes that Lune had frantically scribbled down. Sciel stepped closer to the table, mouth opening to call for Lune, the hand holding the half empty liquor bottle raising slightly before she paused, watching Lune’s expression carefully as the dark haired woman’s brow furrowed, her eyebrows meeting in the middle, her lips moving silently as the mage continued to peruse her maps.
Curious, Sciel took a glance at the maps on the table, wanting to suss out the issue that was troubling Lune. Frowning, she found herself looking at maps she can’t decipher, maps that were a little too different from when she last saw them.
(The last time she had gotten a glimpse at them, it was during a routine clinic visit, one of the many that the expeditioners had after a scuffle during training.
From memory; and Sciel had a good one considering that she worked with children who loved to challenge her at every turn; the maps hanging on the wall of Lune’s clinic space did not match the ones that are currently strewn all over the table in front of them.)
“Sciel?”
Lune’s voice rang out, surprise colouring her words as Sciel looked up to find that same surprise painted across the lines of her face. Smiling sheepishly, Sciel raised the bottle in her hand and gestured with it, the gentle sloshing of liquid audible in the cold night air.
“Hey, didn’t mean to bother you. I just thought you looked-”
She trailed off, her lips coming together in a line as she watched Lune’s face go from surprise to confusion then to disbelief, her eyes flickering from Sciel to the table that the brunette had been seated just moments earlier. Puzzled, Sciel turned towards the table before looking back at Lune, catching the tail end of Lune wiping away the look on her face and replacing it with a wane looking smile.
“Is there a problem?”
Lune’s eyes darted to the side before settling on Sciel’s face, her hands going to the edges of the maps and rolling.
“No, no, it’s just-”
Her eyes flickered over to the table filled with bottles again before she continued, the smile on her face fading away tiredly as words spilled out of her mouth almost mindlessly.
“You shouldn’t be here. You’re usually drinking over there.”
Sciel blinked, registering the words almost at a glacial pace before it clicked at the back of her mind, the odd way Lune had been sure of Sciel’s lack of interest in anything other than her drinks. Lune, for her part, seemed to realise that she had made a mistake, as her expression grew shuttered, physically turning away from Sciel with the maps in her arms, her shoulders drawing to her ears in a defensive manner.
(A sudden realisation jolted at the back of her mind as she recalled the maps on the table, dark lines drawn against a faded continent with a little too much clarity for someone who has only ever read about the Continent and has never stepped foot on the land beyond their waters.)
She swallowed her burning questions down with difficulty, feeling the heat of it lingering at the back of her throat as Sciel tried to go for a less affected demeanour, jiggling the bottle in her hand in what she hoped to be a carefree manner.
“I got lonely over there, drinking by myself and Gustave rejected me in favour of sparring with Maelle down by the docks so here I am, asking my other friend to join me with the festivities.”
Lune took a moment before she turned back around, maps carefully deposited on a chair behind her, that genial smile that Sciel was accustomed to seeing back on her lips, an eyebrow raised in her direction.
(Unbidden, Sciel remembered the last Gommage they had spoken, up high in the sky with only stars for company and the brief sounds of laughter hidden behind cupped hands and unburdened smiles.
And then, she blinked-)
“I’ve seen the amount of drinks you partake in your festivities. I don’t want a hangover tomorrow when we have such an early set off time.”
Sciel grinned, easily slipping into a more rascally persona as she shook the bottle in her hand again.
“Come on! Instead of looking through your maps again, you could spend your last night in Lumiere happily blank before we set off on an adventure of a lifetime.”
Lune’s face grew pinched, an edge to her shuttered expression that looked like it was shattered and then pieced back together haphazardly before she schooled it away to an unimpressed smile, wavering and weak even to Sciel who was allowing Lune to hide. The dark haired woman glanced to the side again, as though waiting for someone, before returning her attention towards Sciel, her arms folding in front of her chest.
“I’d rather not get on a boat with a hangover, Sciel.”
Sciel let out a laugh, forced even to her ears, before bringing up a hand to her chin in contemplation, furrowing her brow in mock seriousness.
“Oh, now that you’ve said that, I am not liking my chances tomorrow on the boat.”
Lune’s smile widened slightly, her lips pulling upwards before she took a step towards the table. She unfolded her arms and shook her head, a hand coming up to cover her mouth when Sciel bemoaned theatrically, emboldened by the small smile on Lune’s face.
“Alan is going to think I’m an alcoholic!”
Lune let out a breath, a whisper of laugh escaping from between her fingers, accompanied by words filled with a lighter cadence.
“He will not think you’re an alcoholic, he is also drinking the night away.”
Sciel leant forward, almost slumping across the table as she continued to act, even as she was cataloging the haunted look that was present behind Lune’s eyes, visible only because she was staring from a low vantage point, looking past that sharp jaw that still held tension even though the dark haired woman was laughing.
“I’m pretty sure he would change his tune once I start vomiting over the side of the boat the whole ride to the Continent.”
Sciel turned her face towards the side and grinned up towards Lune, still watching her eyes that were filled with suppressed torment, a metaphorical storm hidden behind a dying hearth of molten brown.
“Unless, you know, someone, say a very talented healer, has a cure all for hangovers.”
Lune let out another breath, pulling her hand away from her face and unfolded her arms, shaking her head exasperatedly at Sciel. She reached down towards Sciel slowly, her fingers lingering a breadth’s pace away from her head, a short spark of colour dancing between her fingers before it settled on a soft pastel purple. Without warning, she pressed her glowing fingertips against Sciel’s temple, sending a burst of warmth through the haze that Sciel had not realised had settled in between her skull and her spine, cutting through it resolutely before diffusing through her back, comforting and calming all at once.
Sciel blinked, her head clear, her thoughts sound, not actually expecting for Lune to have a cure-all for a hangover.
“What-”
Lune patted her gently on the head before pulling her hand away, a small smile lingering on her lips.
“There. Don’t say I never did anything for you.”
Sciel straightened her back, her eyes just barely skimming past Lune’s nose, catching the tense lines that made up the side of her neck and the tick at the corner of her lips, the kiss that Sciel had always seen lingering there chased away by ghosts that Lune carried without anyone knowing. Once again, she swallowed down the urge to grab Lune by the shoulder and question loudly, demand an answer for her odd behaviour, unravel the secrets that Lune seemed to hold behind her eyes.
Instead, Sciel made a face, a teasing smirk playing on her lips as she nudged Lune’s shoulder with a fist, grin widening when Lune made an annoyed sound in return.
“You’ve been holding out on me. I could’ve been drinking more-”
“Please don’t. I cannot cure liver failure.”
“Have you tried-”
“No, and you won’t be my first patient.”
***
Like a passing breeze, through streets unfamiliar.
Countless silent memories I’ve encountered.
Carved traces will fade, but your song remains in my head.
***
Five.
She turned to see Lune running towards her, just as Visages fell to the ground in front of her, masks crumbling into ashes as the body laid prone, chroma floating from it as it disintegrated. Her arm was outstretched with chroma leaking from her fingertips, her lips forming into a shout that Sciel cannot hear as she dropped to her knees on the ground, her hands going to her abdomen that had just started burning through her.
She looked down and saw crimson flowing from her, vermillion that stained her palms and the bare patch of space between her pants and her jacket, blending into the black of her uniform. She gasped, feeling a rattle at the back of her throat and the taste of metal and her vision blurred, first white then the same red that she tried desperately to hold inside her, something bursting within her as she slumped to her side.
Lune crashed into the ground next to her, ungraceful and heavy as she fell to her knees, kicking up sand and dirt and leaves. Her hands replaced Sciel’s on her torso and a bright burst of green light lit the darkened area, Lune turning to the side and shouting, muted and muddy to Sciel’s waning consciousness.
“Does anybody have a tint! Sciel was hit!”
Verso came crashing by moments later, both hands holding a bottle of healing tint, his voice low and gruff as he helped Sciel off the ground, one arm braced around her protectively.
“What happened- I didn’t see-”
Lune motioned towards the tint frantically, her hands firm against the gaping wound that ran across Sciel’s abdomen.
“Visages- He swung his sword twice and Sciel couldn’t dodge the second one then the masks came and-”
Verso poured the tint down her throat forcefully, unflinching when Sciel hacked violently, liquid splattering across his face and his clothes. He uncorked the second bottle with haste, bringing the mouth towards Sciel’s lips and tilting, looking over his shoulder for another teammate.
“Gustave! We need more tints!”
There was the sound of scrambling coupled with Gustave’s panicked rambling, Maelle’s voice coming in shrill and incomprehensible as Verso fed Sciel the healing tint, holding her tightly as she began to thrash in his arms.
“Hold on, Sciel. Give the healing time to work.”
She struggled to keep her eyes open but the effort to stay awake was terrifyingly difficult. Sciel tried turning her head but then a sharp burst of pain curled from her gut, sending shocks up her spine and into her chest, her body wracked by another fit of coughing.
Her eyes slipped shut, the call of sleep too strong for her to fight off, her mind waiting for the blissfully pain free reality that would greet her with it.
And the last thing she saw before she fainted was the haunted expression Lune had on her face, gaunt and dark as she desperately summoned more magic to heal Sciel.
*
When Sciel opened her eyes again, she was greeted by Gustave hovering by her side and Maelle sitting at the foot of her sleeping bag, both staring at her with stricken expressions that melted away into relief when they saw her awake. Maelle jerked slightly, her body turning in a way that Sciel could tell was an aborted attempt at lunging at her. Instead, the redhead settled for patting at her calf repeatedly, tapping away as though she was reassuring herself with Sciel’s continued presence.
Gustave placed a hand over her forehead, heavy and comforting and he murmured a soft prayer, his words washing over Sciel’s frayed nerves like a balm.
“Thank you, whoever is out there, for this miracle.”
Sciel coughed lightly, reaching to Gustave’s hand and resting her fingers on his wrist, his pulse strong against her skin.
“What happened?”
Gustave’s other hand came around Sciel’s wrist and held it gently, an odd sort of gesture between two old friends.
“You were split nearly in half by Visages’ gigantic sword. By some miracle, Lune managed to knit the wound back together while we poured every available healing tint down your throat to keep you stable.”
Sciel nodded, her arm dropping back to her side tiredly.
“Where are they? Verso? Lune? Is everyone alright?”
Gustave opened his mouth to answer but Maelle cut him off derisively, almost spitting out an answer to half of Sciel’s question.
“Verso’s taken off with Monoco to clear his head. Really, it’s just him nursing his bruised ego because Lune wouldn’t give up on you and blasted him across the clearing when he said you were a lost cause and we needed to reserve some supplies for the Paintress confrontation.”
Gustave made a sound but did not contradict Maelle, choosing to keep the peace and answer the other half of Sciel’s question.
“Lune’s asleep. She overexerted herself using chroma but she should be good to go by tomorrow.”
Sciel strained to speak again.
“And she’s okay? No injuries?”
Gustave’s hand slipped to the side of her face, patient and quiet as he reassured her, Maelle patting against her leg steadily.
“She’s fine. Just sleeping, I promise.”
Sciel nodded, slipping back into unconsciousness herself as she pressed her face against Gustave’s hand, savouring the warmth that was anchoring her to reality. Gustave’s thumb made broad strokes against her skin and he started humming, a toneless, wordless tune that she had heard him comfort Maelle with and she drifted off back to darkness, Maelle’s words lingering at the edges of her awareness.
“Thank you for staying, Sciel.”
*
When Sciel woke again, the camp was quiet, the silent crackling of the hearth the only sound permeating the atmosphere. She stared at the stars for a moment, two- before attempting to sit up, bracing herself for any ache or pain she might feel, one arm wrapping around her torso protectively as she leant on the other to push herself into a sitting position.
But true to Lune’s ability, there was no debilitating pain nor was there any hindrance to her movement. Her body made a mild tweak of protest, the barest silver of pain sliding down her back as aches greeted her, from her shoulders down to her hips and towards her toes, making her feel like a gigantic bruise rather than a person.
She sat there for a moment, taking her time to catalogue her limbs and her appendages, pressing against her muscles and her body with careful fingers, catching herself when she felt the scab across her abdomen, delicate and raw and raised. Her fingers lingered over it, tracing the line with her thumb, feeling the remnants of Lune’s chroma scattered across it, present and steady, still lingering even after the job was completed.
Taking a deep breath, Sciel slowly slipped out of her sleeping bag and onto her feet, craning her neck to check for Lune’s cot. After a brief moment, she spotted her sleeping area towards the edge of the camp, underneath a tree in a slightly quieter area, an exclusive sort of privacy given to the healer who did the most.
She lumbered over slowly, taking her time to watch for any stray twigs or leaves, finding her footing carefully as she crossed the distance. The heat of the dying campfire was on her back as she moved over to Lune’s side, sitting down gingerly and crossing her legs slowly, mindful of Lune’s prone form.
The blanket was pulled up to Lune’s nose, covering half her face from the environment but showing just enough of her face for Sciel to see that she was frowning, brow furrowed and rapid movement behind her eyelids, sleeping yet restless.
A different sort of ache echoed in Sciel’s chest and she reached out towards Lune’s head, pressing her palm against the dark haired woman’s forehead and rubbing softly, trying to smooth out the lines that were marring her beautiful face.
Lune jerked slightly, her eyes fluttering open as she left the edges of a nightmare, eyes looking up towards Sciel, bleary and confused. Sciel stopped her motions but left her hand on Lune’s head, attempting to pull her lips up into a smile as she greeted Lune softly.
“My saviour.”
Lune blinked once, twice, a stricken expression flashing across her face before it was shuttered behind closed eyelids, Lune taking the time to breathe once, twice-
And then-
She sat up slowly, gently putting Sciel’s hand back onto the brunette’s lap, her face turned away from the other woman as a relieved sigh escaped from her chest.
“I’m glad you’re alright.”
Sciel reached out again, her fingers wrapping around Lune’s wrist in a loose hold, feeling ice beneath her fingertips, shards of cold piercing through Sciel’s skin and into her veins. Blinking, Sciel looked down to see if there was any burst of chroma but found none, just the faint scarring and nicks that Lune had accumulated over the years, familiar and unfamiliar at the same time.
Shaking the feeling off, Sciel edged closer to Lune, whispering her gratitude into the quiet night, her words lingering in the space between them like wisps of smoke.
“I’m lucky that you’re always around to heal the worst of my injuries.”
Lune froze, just a brief tensing of her shoulders before she turned to Sciel, that same gaunt and stricken expression on her face, the death of galaxies and universes behind dark, haunted eyes.
“You need to be more careful, Sciel. I can’t work any more miracles. Not like this.”
Sciel’s grip tightened and she moved to speak, recalling the night before the expedition set off, the same expression on Lune’s face, the odd slip up and those maps, unsettling and disconcerting, as though something wasn’t right with the picture painted in front of them.
Like as though someone else had run a brush across it, covering the nightmares that only Lune could see.
Before she could speak, Lune continued, her whispers breathed out almost desperately, weak and quiet, almost lost in the night’s air.
“I can’t lose you. Not like this again. There isn’t any time left, I don’t have any time left to give, I don’t have anything left to give-”
Sciel tugged on Lune’s wrist, almost pulling Lune forward into an embrace, stopping just as the other woman was in front of her, eyes wide and filled with fear.
“What are you talking about? Lune, why are you speaking like we’re running out of time? The Paintress is right there. We are that much closer to changing our fates.”
(As she said that, there was an image in front of her, an image from a dream, or a nightmare, or some other form of torture that Nevrons could wrack upon them.
The image of Gustave’s broken arm laid on the ground, above an empty grave while they crowded around it with silent tears that served no purpose.
But-
Gustave was right there-)
She shook her head, dismissing the image from her mind and continued, shifting her hold to grip at Lune’s hands, feeling frost lingering on Lune’s skin, unnaturally frigid, unnaturally clammy.
“We’re all here. As a team. You don’t have to do this alone. I’m right here, Lune.”
But Lune did not seem to hear her, glancing across the way and at the campfire, lost in her thoughts and her worries, the lines on her face sombre and dour.
Sciel tugged on her hand once, twice, drawing Lune’s attention back towards her.
“I’m right here, Lune. So stay with me, okay?”
Lune blinked, eyelashes fluttering over dark eyes like butterfly wings skimming across a pond and she let out a tired laugh, head angling towards her shoulder.
“You want me to stay with you?”
Sciel squeezed her hand tight, watching again as she retreated into herself, burdened with some knowledge that she will never share.
“Once everything is done and over with, we would have all the time in the world. We could explore the rest of the continent, see more of the legends and myths, even expand Lumiere. And we can do it together.”
Lune closed her eyes briefly before opening them, squeezing Sciel’s hand back in return.
“That sounds like a plan.”
And she smiled, tired and broken, her expression as haunted as ever as she turned towards the Paintress pillar, her eyes transfixed over the glowing number, murmuring low, leaving Sciel alone on this island she tried to call theirs, losing her to an ocean of uncertainty and tribulation.
“Once everything is done and over with.”
And Lune’s hand drifted up to the left side of her chest, her hand clenched into a fist over it as she continued to stare at the pillar.
And Sciel continued to stare at her, willing her to talk, so that she could understand, so that she could share whatever burden that had Lune looking and feeling like a corpse.
But Lune doesn’t speak any further, nor does she acknowledge Sciel after that.
She just stared.
And Sciel-
Sciel sat by her quietly, watching her carefully, tenderly, wishing that she could just understand.
(-she blinked and suddenly, she saw flower petals surrounding her, the essence of a Gommage swirling around her disintegrating body. Sciel turned, in a panic, looking over to Verso who was resigned but determined and she understood instinctively the choice that he made.
The choice she can’t fault him for.
Then she turned to look towards Lune, beautiful, powerful, graceful, the essence of a deity that deserved psalms and songs and worship-
And unrelenting as she glared at Verso with so much hatred and betrayal, sitting down on the ground with folded legs and tilting her chin up high, dignity and pride still present even when her choice was never considered.
As petals took her vision away, Sciel blinked and the last thing she saw was Lune going-
I don’t accept this. We are real, despite what you say.)
***
Broken mask in the mirror revealing the hidden secrets.
Trapped in the uncertainty of swirling colours.
Even when everything is a blur.
You’re the one thing I’d recognise in the shattered puzzle pieces.