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The sun of Talos-II beats down on the off-white sand of the La Fantoma beach. A wave crashes against the sand with a dull roar, the water a liquid turquoise that turns to white foam as the ocean pours itself out onto the shoreline. Then, it recedes back into itself, leaving behind nothing but the pretty carcasses of many a mollusk long since consigned to become polished by the salty seas until they themselves are worn down to nothing but a grain of sand, one in a million. That, and a lot of wet sand. Though, if one thinks about it for long enough, seashells and wet sand are one and the same, and the only difference in a matter of time.
A Feline sits much farther up the beach, lounging on a comfortable chaise lounge beneath the shade of a pinstriped umbrella, a dark grey cat’s tail swishing back and forth as it hangs from the side of her seat. Her ears poke out from the holes in her bucket hat. They’re a little bit smaller than most Felines’, and some might even call the slightly rounded shape ‘cute’. But to this woman, it’s more of a hassle that causes hats to fit improperly on her head sometimes. Her clothing is light, but practical. Form fitting shorts, a snug and breathable sleeveless top, cropped just beneath her chest, a simple, unintrusive web of rigging across her bare skin, a black headscarf wrapped kept down around her neck, and a pair of chunky, milsurp boots. The last of those are perhaps ill-suited for the beach, but she finds there’s a limit to how much she can tailor her attire to be beach-suitable. And that aside, she knows that Lady Ceylon would find it humorous, perhaps even cute, in that bizarre way that Lady Ceylon might. She would laugh, a chuckle that grows until she feels compelled to cover her mouth, and then—
The growing smile on Reconvener Ladygrey’s face shatters in an instant, as ephemeral as seafoam.
Another wave crashes against the shore, drowning out the raucous noise produced by the other beachgoers. Another flick of her tail brings her a modicum of peace, and yet it’s not enough. Another heartbeat threatens to tear her heart asunder beneath its own weight.
Ladygrey sighs, a balmy, bright, beautiful day doing nothing to alleviate the cold emptiness that she feels. She recalls the day she emerged from the Originium Forest quite well; what Reconvener wouldn’t? Schwarz might have been a trained assassin, brought up to ignore all but the most severe pain and injuries, but nothing could’ve prepared someone that wasn’t even herself for the splitting headache and empty feeling brought on by scattered memories incongruent with who was there to take up her crossbow.
There’s still a copy of the documents Ladygrey was provided in her bag, alongside a heavy crossbow and a change of clothes. Warfarin had been the one to hand them out to her, and while most of it was filler, boilerplate jargon to her, some of it struck her to her core, a knife in her chest, torn between elation and abject misery, a confirmation that the unasked questions turning over and over within her head were not just the mad theories of a lunatic. The first thing she did after getting her things together was head out to La Fantoma, at Warfarin’s suggestion. Would those stark sands, so reminiscent of Schwarz’s Siesta, bring Ladygrey any answers? Could they even do so, when Warfarin pressed upon her the importance that Ladygrey is not Schwarz, and Talos-II is not Terra? All the same, those beaches called to her, and so she answered, hoping for something, anything to get a grip on the heartache that wracked her, in waking and in sleep alike.
What Ladygrey found instead was bittersweet nostalgia. The high-rise condominiums, the clear ocean view that stretched until it became one with the horizon, the hustle and bustle of a city so caught up in its own glint that it would fail to notice its own destruction, even if held at bolt-tip, it’s all so familiar. The city itself is blinding, and to some it may make all the more appealing. For Ladygrey, it’s disorienting, distracting, a flash grenade that drowns out all other mission-critical sensory information. Every one of Ladygrey’s nerves scream at her to find somewhere to hide, to run to any source of cover or vantage point before somebody gets the drop on her and her non-existent charge.
Warfarin had warned Ladygrey that she might struggle to adapt to Talos-II’s current condition. There wasn’t nearly as much strife and struggle between the people of the civilization band as there was back in Terra, and especially not in La Fantoma. A cursory reading of Schwarz’s files and Ladygrey’s own welcome packet, as well as Schwarz’s previous lived experience, told her as much. Long before Schwarz joined Rhodes Island, she was trained in the art of killing. Not beasts or constructs or any other threats prominent across Talos-II, but her fellow man. Cold, and calculated, the who within her crosshairs turning quickly into a what and, shortly thereafter, a tally mark. There were several places she could’ve gone to that would’ve been less at odds with the ice in her veins. She could’ve gone north to the frontier, and offered her crossbow in service of driving off the Aggeloi. She could’ve gone to Wuling, where the Wuling Very Large Rift pushes Aggeloi towards another bastion of humanity on a regular basis. She could’ve even gone to Valley IV. There was no reason to go there, initially, but she caught wind of a massive coordinated attack from Landbreakers and Aggeloi alike, and Ladygrey knows such a battlefield would’ve been rife with targets more suitable for Schwarz’s prey of choice.
And yet Ladygrey found herself drawn to this city, glittering in its opulence and completely at peace with itself. It’s borderline delusional how these people could fool themselves into thinking that they’re safe from each other. But then again, maybe Ladygrey was just as delusional for coming here, hoping to chase some of the warmth that Lady Ceylon gave her in a past life, and falling woefully short when reality hit her, cold and hard.
“Hey,” A voice next to her says, callous and imperious in tone, “Do you want some?”
Ladygrey turns her head to the side to lock eyes with Laevatain. She lays across her own lounge chair, between Ladygray and the Endministrator of Endfield Industries, offering a popsicle towards the former. Beyond her, the Endmin happily licks her own popsicle, a bright blue brick of sugar and frozen cream.
Ladygrey hesitates, but takes the treat from Laevatain. “Thanks,” she mutters. She sticks her tongue out for a lick, and finds herself surprised by the sweetness, complimented by the slight, sour bite of blue buckberries beneath. It’s not her first time having ice cream, but she treats herself so infrequently that it always catches her off guard.
“Mhm,” Laevatain says, turning her gaze back out towards the ocean, the wooden frame of her lounge chair creaking slightly as she shifts her posture.
Laevatain and the Endmin both came to La Fantoma a bit suddenly, and even more suddenly got in touch with Ladygrey. While Ladygrey turned down the Endmin’s initial offer to come work for Endfield Industries, she certainly felt a bit tempted, but whether by sheer wanderlust or an innate pull towards the noble naivety of their cause — no doubt a remnant of Lady Ceylon’s purity within her memory, ripped from her heart and leaving only the void of what once was — she could not tell. Still, they insisted that Ladygrey accompany them on their impromptu vacation, the Endmin specifically invoking the time-tested adage ‘The more the merrier’.
While Ladygrey’s attire isn’t wholly inappropriate for the beach, Laevatain and the Endmin are much more appropriately dressed, wearing proper swimsuits unprepared for any sudden combat that was unlikely to break out in the first place. And yet, they’ve both seen far more real fighting in the past month or so than Ladygrey has seen since she ‘woke up’. Thankfully there was employment to be found in La Fantoma, and with Rhodes Island no less, but it was a far cry from the wetwork that she knows she’s familiar with.
“You know,” the Endmin speaks up, “We have plenty more at Endfield!”
“Does that work on people, usually?” Ladygrey practically snorts.
“Sometimes it does,” Laevatain says with a sigh.
“Speaking from experience, I see,” the Endmin chuckles.
Laevatain doesn’t look her way. “No comment.”
Ladygrey asks herself if this really is the Endministrator of Endfield industries. She strikes Ladygrey as a bit of a dork, even if it’s hard to read her through that mask. Perhaps it's how she keeps herself from going mad. If everywhere else is like La Fantoma, that may very well be the case. At least Schwarz had an outlet, someone close to her that she could confide in. Ladygrey… She has nothing. No, she has less than nothing, even. Schwarz’s purpose was found neither in Siesta nor Herman. La Fantoma only disgusts Ladygrey, and perhaps she would feel the same way about a bastard like Herman taking her underwing. And yet she has no choice but to steep herself in this misery because the alternative is to completely abandon all possibility of finding her very own Ceylon.
Ladygrey quickly finishes off her ice cream and pushes herself up off of her lounge chair, smoothing out her clothing as she stands up. “I’m going to go walk along the shore,” she announces to nobody in particular. Is it rude to her company? Perhaps, but they’re the ones that dragged her out here. She’s allowed some manner of antisocial behavior.
“We’ll be here!” the Endmin calls after her. She and Laevatain are quiet as Ladygrey walks away. Something is written on the Endmin’s face, patiently waiting for the Feline to leave earshot, and then waits a little bit longer before driving her elbow into Laevatain’s shoulder.
“Ow, hey, what was that for?” Laevatain says.
“Go talk to her!”
“Huh?” Laevatain cocks her head, confused.
“You know, about…” Endmin trails off, rubbing the back of her head.
“Oh,” Laevatain rolls her eyes slightly, “Being a Reconvener?”
“Yeah, that,” the Endmin confesses, “I know what it sounds like, but… She seems like she could really use someone to talk to about it.”
“And you’re hoping that she joins Endfield if she makes a friend here? You’re so cold and calculating, Endmin,” Laevatain jokes before swinging her legs off of her chair.
“T-That’s not it!” the Endmin says, flustered and shaking her hands and head, “It’s just…”
“Mmm, don’t worry, I know what you mean,” Laevatain says, giving the Endmin a lazy wink and standing up. “I agree. It sucks, seeing someone go through that. I’ll go catch up to her.”
At the same time, Ladygrey curses herself for wearing boots out to the beach. She’s far away from where the tide meets the land and yet already her feet sink inches into the sand with every step, seeking any kind of firm purchase and finding nothing. Her boots cannot deny their hard nature, and are destined to struggle in softer places. Still, Ladygrey trudges on, knowing that it’s all she can do, and hoping for a break.
After a moment of fruitless walking through wet sand, Laevatain approaches from behind, falling into step alongside her, still holding a popsicle aloft as if she wouldn’t be caught dead without one. “Ladygrey,” she says, raising her voice to be heard against the constant crashing of ocean waves, “Are we bothering you?”
“What? No, why would you be?”
“Then what’s got you so upset?” Laevatain asks.
Ladygrey, for a moment, isn't sure if she wants to answer, let alone how. She sighs, hoping that it keeps Laevatain from thinking she’s being outright ignored. Thankfully, Laevatain doesn’t press her for an answer right away. It’s only when Ladygrey’s footsteps slow to a halt that Laevatain follows up.
“Was there a beach like this?” Laevatain asks, turning to face the water.
The question brings Ladygrey’s mind to a grinding halt in its simplicity. Everything about La Fantoma, Siesta, Ceylon, Terra, and Talos-II is difficult to put into concise words, let alone ones that she can trust a stranger with. But the question of a beach like this one? It’s much easier to answer, so easy that the answer slips off Ladygrey’s tongue before she can think to hold it.
“Yes. Yes, there was…”
“Tell me about it.”
“Pardon?”
“The beach. That one from the other you,” Laevatain clarifies.
“It…” Ladygrey starts. She could talk about the bright sea that stretched before it. The boardwalk and all of its picturesque shops. The myriad people that came from all over Terra to relax and unwind. “It’s nothing I miss,” she says.
“And yet you’re still here,” Laevatain points out.
“It’s familiar,” Ladygrey counters. “Is it so wrong to seek out comfort in the familiar?”
“Are you comfortable here?”
Ladygrey’s tail flicks, annoyed with being unable to refute her.
Laevatain sighs, “I’m not trying to corner you here… But I’m really curious. You don’t seem like the kind of person that gels with the whole ‘sand, sun, and sea’ kind of thing.”
Ladygrey doesn’t console her, instead she just stares out over the water. It’s true, she isn’t. None of this suits her, but then again, what does? “But she was,” Ladygrey says, after a beat.
“She?”
“Not Schwarz,” Ladygrey specifies, “As far as I knew, she wasn’t a good fit for it either…”
“I figured,” Laevatain says, “I read about her, a little bit."
The sentence sinks in Ladygrey’s gut like a rock. Laevatain had every right to, of course, but it's a unique feeling of vulnerability, learning that someone knows the mold she was cast in. She swallows. “Then you should know whose side she rarely ever left,” is what she answers with.
Laevatain remains quiet, either putting the pieces together, or having already done so.
“Ceylon isn’t here,” Ladygrey continues, “I know that. I know that this isn’t Siesta, and that I am not Schwarz, but… How am I supposed to get over this feeling of missing someone I’ve never met?” Laevatain is silent, and Ladygrey takes it as a sign to continue. “You asked me why I’m here, and if I’m comfortable here.”
“I did,” Laevatain says.
Ladygrey huffs, bending down to untie her boots, sliding her feet out before tying them together and slinging them over her shoulder. She steps out towards the ocean, her bare feet leaving a trail in the wet sand that Laevatain follows. When a wave crashes in and water rushes over her toes, frigid and sharp, that’s when Ladygrey stops. Would she have already gone out further into the water if Ceylon were here to urge her?
“Everything is almost the same,” Ladygrey says, “The water, the beach, the stores, the city, even the biggest music festival. It has the exact same name as the one Siesta would host on Terra. Did you know that?”
“The Obsidian Festival?” Laevatain says.
“Mhm. From what Schwarz remembers, it’s mostly the same too. Loud, flashy, and annoying… But sometimes the music is decent.”
“Where are you going with this?”
“It’s so close to what I know from Schwarz’s life, all of it,” Ladygrey says, “Are these memories here to tell us what we’re supposed to be doing? If so, I’ve been doing everything I can, but it’s not good enough. It’s not… It’s not right, Laevatain, and nothing I can do can make it right, because the one person that brought it all together for her… She isn’t here. Even if she was, would she be Lady Ceylon, or would she be pretending, like me?”
“Oh, that’s…”
“Depressing? Pathetic?”
“I was going to say ‘nightmarish,’ actually,” Laevatain responds.
Ladygrey can’t bite back. There’s no pity in Laevatain’s tone to be pridefully indignant over. Just acknowledgement that her life is the living hell it seems like.
“You’d be right,” Ladygrey says after a long pause.
“Can I ask you something else, Ladygrey?”
“You’re asking permission now?”
Laevatain ignores her. “Tell me about yourself.”
“Huh?”
“You, Ladygrey, who are you?”
“Well, I’m…” Ladygrey stops dead in her tracks. She knows what Laevatain is getting at, and yet Schwarz’s name still hangs on the tip of her tongue. Everything about her really is something borrowed from Schwarz’s own life, and everything about her really does feel like a pale imitation of someone else.
“That’s a dirty question,” Ladygrey sighs.
“I don’t know what you mean,” Laevatain deadpans, rolling her eyes, “Unless it’s so hard to come up with even a single thing you can call your own?”
Ladygrey’s eyes give Laevatainn a sidelong glance, spying the stained stick of wood between her fingers. “...I liked the ice cream you gave me earlier.”
“Hm? The ice cream?”
“Yeah,” Ladygrey says, “I don’t think she passed on anything about ice cream, so… I can call that one my own.”
“Hmm…”
“Not good enough?”
“I didn’t think I’d get any kind of answer out of you.”
“Maybe I changed my mind.”
“So suddenly?”
“No,” Ladygrey confesses, “But… You’re the first person I’ve had to talk to about it in ages. And I think… Maybe Ceylon would want me to talk about it.”
“Did it help?”
“No. Yes. I’m not sure,” Ladygrey says. It’s true. It didn’t help, but her chest feels lighter, the empty ache in her heart receding as the ocean’s backwash nips at her heels. She closes her eyes, and tries to think of anything else to call her own. It strikes her that Laevatain may have been onto something, because wherever her mind wanders, it finds itself in a cage of its own making.
“We should head back,” Laevatain says, after a peaceful moment, “Endmin’s probably going to get worried about us soon.”
“Us? I didn’t know I was on team Endfield,” Ladygrey says.
“Yeah, yeah, like it or not, the Endmin is a worrywart sometimes.”
“I see… Can I have a moment, then? I came out here to collect my thoughts before I was interrupted.”
Laevatainn chuckles. “I can hold her off for a bit, sure. Take all the time you need.”
With that, Laevatainn takes her leave, and thus is Ladygrey left alone with a bright and clear sky, a calm horizon, warm skin, and cold feet. For a moment, that’s all the world is to her. Each successive wave of ocean foam that crawls up past her toes, up to her ankles, does it erode the boundary between herself and she who came before her? Or does the sharp sting keep her tethered to the here and now? Is she seeing the skyline for what it is, or is she choosing to hope against hope that this is all some kind of bad dream, and that the phantom of Talos will fade away as Lady Ceylon comes to collect her? Ladygrey said she came out here to collect her thoughts, but now they only seem to wash back and forth.
“What should I do?” Ladygrey asks aloud, to nobody in particular, and to somebody very specific.
“I don’t know why I’m here,” she continues, “The city is here, the beach is here, but you aren’t… What did she have besides you?”
The ocean, in all of its constant, deafening roaring, is silent as another wave crashes against Ladygrey’s feet.
Is there no answer, or is the silence itself the answer? If Schwarz is nothing without Ceylon, then what does that make Ladygrey?
What would Schwarz think? Ladygrey is sure she should know, but of all the things Schwarz left her, an answer is not one of them. Would she think Ladygrey laughably pitiful or disappointing and pathetic? Or would she be more understanding? Which would be better? To be able to cast off her yoke, or to know that somebody was there to share it with her? It’s all hypothetical nonsense, of course. That Ladygrey is standing here is proof that Schwarz could never be; she would be long dead and gone for good, her ashes scattered to the winds. Perhaps they might even have ended up in the sand beneath Ladygrey’s very feet by some freak coincidence. It would be the closest Ladygrey could ever be to her.
Ladygrey shakes her head, and turns her back on the water. That’s when she sees it. A small stick, standing upright in soggy sand. Laevatainn’s popsicle stick, no doubt dropped by her as she left. Was she really so forgetful? Ladygrey finds herself stooping to pick it up without much thought. She has half a mind to chuck it into the ocean, but a small bit of text burnt into the wood catches her eye.
Try Again!
It almost makes Ladygrey laugh. Is it supposed to be mocking her, or is it encouraging her? The thought of even a piece of soon-to-be driftwood trying to cheer her up is somehow worse than the former. Is she really such a sad sack of wet sand? Her fingers keep the stick in their grip as she lowers her hand to her side, gaze turning back toward the city of La Fantoma itself in all its glitzy glory. The bright, tall buildings that continued to grow higher as the city sprawled into the wilderness beyond the beach… It’s why Ladygrey came here in the first place. Each day she wakes up is another slap in the face, another Try Again! in her hands, so close that surely, one more day and everything will fall into place, right?
Ladygrey snaps the popsicle stick in half without realizing. How long has she been standing here, just thinking? How long has she been living here, just thinking?
She doesn’t turn back towards the ocean as she walks off, eager to get back to her lounge chair after having exhausted herself with a line of thought that went nowhere fast. Maybe she should try something else entirely, rather than trying all this all over again tomorrow.
“Ladygrey!” the Endmin calls out once she spots her, “I was getting worried about you for a bit!”
Ladygrey approaches her lounge chair, taking down the umbrella. “Is that so?”
“After I left you alone, you were out there for like…” Laevatain trails off, looking towards the Endmin.
“Thirty-two minutes and thirty-three seconds,” the Endmin answers.
“That,” Laevatain says, “We were starting to think the ocean had taken you.”
Ladygrey scoffs, setting down the collapsed umbrella next to her duffel bag. “I’m not so stupid as to get taken by the tide.”
“Oh, you’re packing up,” the Endmin notices.
“Mhm,” Ladygrey says, “Sorry to cut our little playdate short, but I’ve got to head back to my apartment.”
“Leave the oven on?” Laevatain teases.
“No, I’ve got to start packing,” Ladygrey folds up her lounge chair.
“Packing?” the Endmin tilts her head. “Are you moving somewhere?”
“I’m taking your offer,” Ladygrey admits. “Endfield isn’t so gracious as to let me stay here, is it?”
The Endmin and Laevatain exchange a look, the former accusatory and the latter just confused. “I didn’t talk her into it, I swear,” Laevatain says.
“She didn’t,” Ladygrey confirms, “But… She helped me realize some things.”
The Endmin puts her finger on her chin. “Well, if you’re certain…” She snaps her fingers, a thoughtful frown turning into a soft smile, “Then we’d be glad to have you come join us, and we’ll look forward to working with you. Presuming, of course, nothing falls through.”
Ladygrey nods, hefting her bag over her shoulder and carrying the rest of her things. “I’ll put in a word with my boss about getting an interview with your people. And Miss Laevatain?”
Laevatain glances towards her with a raised eyebrow.
“You have my thanks,” Ladygrey says with a heavy sigh. She doesn’t wait for an acknowledgement before she starts marching off toward the promenade, away from the Endmin and Laevatain.
“Just like that? Really?” Laevatain wonders aloud after Ladygrey leaves.
“Well of course,” the Endmin says, “You are rather convincing!”
“Oh, please, you only say that because you like when I boss you around.”
“Guilty as charged!” the Endmin teases, “But… I do think she just needed somebody to talk to. Reconveners… Each and every one of you… I think there’s a certain sense of loss and confusion that’s difficult to relate to.
Laevatain doesn’t say anything in response. Instead, she bends down, and picks something up off the sand.
“Oh, would you look at that,” Laevatain comments.
“What is it?”
Laevatain holds up a thin wooden stick, stained blue and discarded in the sand. “Ladygrey left her popsicle stick behind.”
Laevatain turns it over in her hand, holding back a chuckle when she sees the letters in the wood.
Winner!
“C’mon, let me see what’s so funny?” the Endmin says, pushing her way into Laevatain’s space. “Oh! Haha, it’s too bad she’s headed home for the day, huh?”
“It just means I’ll owe her ice cream once she onboards with us.”
It would be a lot of paperwork, getting transferred to Endfield Industries, but Ladygrey is certain that it’ll go smoothly. Warfarin nearly sent her off to Endfield, and the Endmin herself just succeeded in headhunting her. There’s no way she wouldn’t be introducing herself to new coworkers by the end of the month. As for the process of packing… It would be fine. She lives in a cheap, unfurnished studio, her mattress sits on the floor, and everything she owns can be packed up into a single suitcase. There’s no guarantee she’ll be moving anywhere less bleak and depressing… But at least it’ll be novel. At least it won’t be here. And that’s the most important thing to Ladygrey at the moment.
The walk home is a blur, bare feet burning on sun-baked pavement, people passing her by, going about their ordinary lives that they don’t seem to have any problems living. Maybe they would send her to the chilly north. Schwarz never had to wear winter clothes. There was one such outfit she owned, but… It wasn’t truly made for the cold. Wuling, though, might be far more suitable for a huntress like herself; humid and covered with dense foliage. Perfect for prowling through undetected. There’s plenty of Talos-II Ladygrey hasn’t seen for herself, things that only she can see.
A small part of Ladygrey thinks that one day, she can tell Lady Ceylon about them. Even if it’s a farfetched hope that keeps her feet moving, it sticks around in her brain. It’ll take a long time to be truly free of Schwarz’s burdens, if she ever can be.
It doesn’t take long for Ladygrey to find something truly unique to her.
“Alright, We’ll buzz your pager when we’re ready for you, Miss Ladygrey!” says the cheery receptionist stationed on the side of the central ring.
Ladygrey nods, having reached the final step towards grasping her partnership with Endfield Industries. It’s nothing like she could’ve imagined, the feeling of being on ground that isn’t quite solid. The view from the OMV Dijiang, even just the thin sliver of the bridge visible from the central ring, is something Schwarz would never find on Terra. Ladygrey rests on a bench, sitting motionless amidst a tide of employees coming and going. She clutches the pager between her hands. Her eyes are glued to the small chunk of Talos-II visible to her if she can just crane her head. It’d be impossible to believe that she was floating around the planet itself were her feet not firmly on the deck at that very moment.
“You came after all,” Laevatain’s voice says.
Ladygrey doesn’t turn her gaze from the bridge. “Of course. It would be hard to complete my interview if I didn’t.”
“You could probably unplug Martin and pass the interview, I’ll be honest,” Laevatain says, “The Endmin was really excited about you joining once we returned from vacation.”
“I’d like to refrain from making a poor impression during the interview,” Ladygrey says.
“You wouldn’t be the first to.”
Ladygrey doesn’t respond. Her attention isn’t on Laevatain, still, and she barely notices the uncomfortable, awkward silence that grows longer by the passing second. That is, until Laevatain clears her throat.
“So… What’s got your eye?” Laevatain says, clearly hoping to drag the conversation along herself.
“The bridge,” Ladygrey admits, “The view… It’s hard to see from here, but it’s still quite impressive.”
“Oh, yeah, Talos-II… I know how you feel. A lot of folks here do, even. It’s a lot to take in all at once.”
Ladygrey hums in affirmation.
“Would you like a better look?” Laevatain offers after a beat.
Ladygrey hesitates for a moment. If Laevatain is offering, though, surely it isn’t a problem. “If you wouldn’t mind,” she answers. She stands from her bench, letting Laevatain lead her out of the central ring and into the bridge.
Laevatain is right. It’s a lot to take in, it’s difficult to take in. The planet sits in the dead center of the bridge’s viewport, slowly spinning, an intricate marble of green and blue and white and grey. The off-red hue of the blight tide dots the planet, and it strikes Ladygrey just how huge any given speck must be if she can see it from here.
Ladygrey’s fingers grip onto a railing for support, the deck spinning under her feet.
“Pretty impressive, huh?” Laevatain asks, taking pride in the view as if it were her own.
“Yes, it’s…” Ladygrey is at a loss for words. Beautiful. Terrifying. Unbelievable. All of the above. It’s exactly what Ladygrey needs to start over.
But her chest only feels cold. A steely bolt of reality piercing through her, creeping outwards into her whole body. She’d long since shaken the habit of trying to speak to the dead, but it rears its ugly head as Ladygrey turns to find that Ceylon isn’t by her side.
A tear stings at her eye, rolling down her cheek. It might be the first time she’s cried since she awoke as Ladygrey. At that moment, Ladygrey knew why she stayed in La Fantoma for so long. Because this is something Lady Ceylon would never be able to see with her own eyes. And it’s something that Ladygrey would never be able to pass on to her, no matter how much she wanted to. It all finally sinks in, that Ladygrey is by herself, and would be forever.
Here Ladygrey stands, in a world full of Reconveners just like herself, and she’s never felt more alone.