once and twice again

you wouldn't be the first renegade to need somebody

The salt-slick stairs of the lighthouse spiral upward, familiar under Flora’s bare feet even after all this time. Her voice had been little more than a whisper to Hadama when she called to him near the rocky path below—soft, but unmistakably hers. A warning and a welcome all at once, offered so that he'd know where she was, given she'd rendered herself invisible since having left Pierce's party.

Now, only the muffled hush of waves and the groan of wind through stone fills the air as she climbs, unseen but present. The evening sky outside has long since turned the colour of darkened pearls, and the lighthouse’s watchful eye remains unlit, casting no guidance save for what they bring with them.

At the top, Flora moves with purpose. Her invisibility doesn’t falter as she works—striking a match, cupping her hand around the flame, and lighting the first of the sea-glass-hued candles arranged in a loose crescent around the shrine. Their flicker adds a soft glow to the stone walls, catching gently on bits of mother-of-pearl and broken shell scattered nearby.

She kneels then, pulling from her satchel a single white feather—one of her daggers, cleaned and honed until it gleams—and places it at the centre of the arrangement. Beside it, she lays a strand of golden chain from her own wrist, something beautiful and personal, followed by a polished orb of obsidian, dark as the sky between stars.

Hadama was a regular visitor to the lighthouse and he brought offerings with most of his visits. There was nothing unusual about the treasures that he carried as he made his way around the shore of the blessed isle, nor the way he stopped and looked up at the sky, seeking out the first stars of evening. He tilted his head to the side, catching a whisper on the wind, and after completing his meditation he moved to the steps inside the pale tower, taking them at a slow but steady pace.

The candles were lit when he arrived, an obsidian orb appearing from thin air upon the altar. He could not see his co-ruler, but he found a small, weary smile for the thin air. "Good evening," he rumbled - to the shrine, the goddess, the queen, or all three - before pacing with careful deliberation to the side of the altar to add his own gifts. A glass orb mounted on a base of polished black wood held within it a second, smaller orb, frosted white and carefully detailed with the craters and features of the moon's surface. Silver glitter rested at the bottom of the outer sphere and when Hadama tipped it over and then set it down beside the obsidian orb they sparkled around the moon like tiny, glittering stars.

He tilted his head at what was already present, and seeing the chain he smiled a little. He reached up to unfasten one of his earrings, a finely wrought braided hoop in gold that had been with him for many years, but he parted with it now for the sake of Torchline - and Flora. It joined the other offerings, and then the Tidebreaker's calm, quiet voice broke the silence once more.

"Safrin," he rumbled, sinking to his knees. "We are ready to extend the protections of Haulani against the Family to Kaiholo Port, if you will give us your blessing."

it's fine to fake it 'till you make it

The candles flicker, but there is no wind. Instead, the shimmer begins subtly—first in the shells, then the pearls, then in the very air itself. A pulse of starlight hums low through the stone, and between one breath and the next, Safrin is there. She stands with all the majesty of the night sky wrapped around her shoulders, constellations shifting gently in her hair, her gaze like galaxies turned inward. The hush she brings is absolute, but not cold. Not here. Not with them.

"My darlings," she says warmly, her voice curling through the candlelight like velvet smoke. She steps closer, the shine of her bare feet kissing the lighthouse stone with grace, and casts a look over the gathered offerings. Her eyes linger on the moon in its globe, on the feather like a sliver of war, on gold given freely. "You never disappoint me."

Then her gaze shifts, and though it softens with affection, it sharpens with amusement as it lands on the empty space she knows to hold Flora. "A risky thing you did at the beach," she says, lilting, almost teasing. "Let me guess...your idea?" She tilts her head just so, one elegant brow rising; there was no guessing required.  But before Flora can argue—or Hadama can deflect—Safrin lifts her hand, brushing the moment aside like stardust on a sleeve. "I'm proud of the both of you." Her gaze falls upon Hadama, then. "For keeping a level head in the heat of the moment." Before turning back to Flora. "And doing what needed to be done."

As for the coastline? "Of course I’ll help," she says, her smile returning in full.

---

Torchline has received a RQ!

Tasks. There is no time limit. There are currently 16 active Torchers. This means 8 unique characters have to participate. Characters can participate more than once. Hadama and Flora must participate in at least 2 threads each.

1. A thread of at least 3 torchers gathering shells from the Ahi Coast
2. A PQ placing the shells all around the coast. Must have 8 rounds in total.
3. A thread with at least 1 torcher capturing a physical piece of a member of the Family.

~FIN

'till you do. 'till it's true.