the water's high

flora

The Sugartide cuts through the clouds with reckless grace, sails taut with defiance and grief. Flora doesn’t care about altitude protocol or assigned landing zones; her knuckles are white on the wheel, curls whipping around her like a gilded storm as Stormbreak’s skyline rises to meet her. She’s read the letter three times now and still can’t quite make her breath come easy.

Tarak is gone.

The Sugartide lands like a queen who forgot her crown at home and didn’t give a damn—right in the centre of the Pacifist Plaza. The grand square recoils and then rushes to adjust, startled birds taking flight and shoppers scrambling back with cries of protest as Flora leaps over the railing.

She’s empty-handed. No flowers, not even any wine; just a heart clawing at her ribs and the quiet certainty that her best friend is hurting—and that nothing else matters.
The plaza breathes around her—sunlight slicing through temple arches, market vendors blinking in surprise, whispers already curling through the crowd like tidefoam. Queen of Torchline, radiant and raw, arriving like a storm with no warning.

"SOH?"

I'm stupid but I'm clever
I can make a shitshow look a whole lot like forever and ever

Code blatently stolen from queen of codes, Sky!

And I feel like my castle's crumbling down
And I watch all my bridges burn to the ground

Sohalia looked, in a word, terrible.

Her eyes were red from weeping, and there were dark smudges beneath them from where Soh could no longer sleep, tormented by the sight of her beloved companion disappearing behind the dragon's jaws over and over and over again. Her golden hair was up in a messy bun - but unlike all the time she'd worn it like that before, this time, the look wasn't intentional. There was nothing polished about the simple wardrobe she'd chosen for herself, either - just a simple t-shirt and shorts. In fact, she looked utterly unremarkable, so much so that the people who had once called her their Heart barely spared her a passing glance.

She sat on a bench in the Pacifist Plaza, her knees tucked to her chest, one hand touching the shoulder where Tarak had always perched. It still felt impossible to believe that he was actually gone. It seemed like, at any moment, he should swoop down from the clear blue skies and begin preening himself like he always had. He'd always been vain that way.

A fresh wave of tears bubbled to the surface, but Soh blinked them away. She was not going to have a meltdown in public.

But as soon as a familiar ship touched down in the middle of the plaza and a familiar blonde disembarked, that thought went promptly out the window. Standing from her perch, Soh took a few short steps towards Flora, her lower lip quivering dangerously. "Flora," she said, her voice raw. "He's gone."

And you don't want to know me, I will just let you down
You don't wanna know me now

Sohalia

flora

Flora doesn’t hesitate. The moment Sohalia’s voice breaks across the plaza—cracked and raw and shaped around the word gone—she crosses the distance like it’s nothing, like the whole world has narrowed to this singular heartbreak, to the girl with salt in her lashes and an ache in her chest.

Her arms are around Soh before either of them can fall apart completely. No soft, delicate embrace—this is a hold made of muscle and conviction, the kind you use to pull someone back from a cliff’s edge. One hand curls protectively at the back of Sohalia’s head, the other wraps around her spine like a lifeline, and Flora crushes her close. "No," she says into gold-tousled hair, the word fierce and trembling. "He’s not gone."

She presses a kiss into the crown of Soh’s head, grounding and trembling all at once. "I’ll scream for Mort every day if I have to. I’ll go to my Dad and make him call him down from the stars. We're going to get him back."

Her voice doesn’t waver. Not once. Even with the burn at the back of her throat, even with the twist in her gut that knows exactly what it is to lose something irreplaceable. She pulls back just enough to look Sohalia in the eye, her hands still on her shoulders, fingers gentle but firm. "We are, okay?" she says again, slow and certain, like it’s not a wish but a vow. "I don’t care what it takes."

I'm stupid but I'm clever
I can make a shitshow look a whole lot like forever and ever

Code blatently stolen from queen of codes, Sky!

And I feel like my castle's crumbling down
And I watch all my bridges burn to the ground

Tarak was gone. And somehow, with his death, the world had stopped making sense.

Soh allowed herself to be crushed against Flora's chest, if only because she was no longer sure what to do with the body that she was certain had stopped living the moment the Void dragon's jaws had snapped shut on the little griffin. A strange, keening cry filled her ears, and it took a moment for the young woman to realize that it was her own sobs, strangled and muffled by Flora's shirt. A quiet, dim part of her mind recognized that people were staring, but it wasn't enough to calm her - no, now that the floodgates were open, it was too late for Soh to do anything other than watch the waves crash over her, pounding her soul to rubble against the jagged edges where her bond with Tarak used to be.

Flora's vow rang in her ears, and the Luminary couldn't find words to express the myriad emotions thrumming through her veins. There was loss, of course, and pain. And there was guilt, because it was Soh's fault that Tarak had been there in the first place. She never should have brought him somewhere so dangerous, and yet, here they were. My fault, my fault, my fault.

And then there was the quiet hope that blossomed, the wish that what Flora offered could actually become a reality. Soh gazed up at her best friend with tears in her eyes, a quiet hiccup breaking the sudden silence in the wake of her sobs. "I can't -" she tried, then swallowed against a fresh wave of tears. "How could I ask anyone to do that?" she said. "It's my fault he's gone. What if he doesn't want to come back?"

And you don't want to know me, I will just let you down
You don't wanna know me now

Sohalia

flora

Flora draws Soh closer still, uncaring of the circle of curious eyes gathering like sparrows on a rail. Let them gawk. Grief is a private tide, and she is the seawall—unmoved, immovable—until the storm recedes. Her hand cradles the back of Sohalia’s head, fingers threading through dishevelled gold as though gentleness alone might knit that severed bond. When Soh’s sobs hiccup to silence, Flora’s voice slips in, low and steady, the current beneath the breakers.

"You don’t have to ask," she murmurs, every vowel thick with certainty. "I’m offering. Tarak is worth every plea I could ever shout to Mort, and more." A thumb brushes a tear track from Soh’s cheek, the motion firm enough to anchor, soft enough to soothe. "And trust me—he will want to come back." Flora says this with the sort of certainty borne from experience; she'd been the reason Enzo had died, and no part of her doubted that he'd want to come back.

"Until we have him again, it’s going to feel like someone carved a hollow straight through you," she goes on, voice a warm braid of steel and sunlight. "But that emptiness won’t echo forever. It eases—slowly, stubbornly—and I’ll be here for every stumble and breathless night until it does." She shifts just enough to press her forehead to Sohalia’s. "One step at a time, okay?"

I'm stupid but I'm clever
I can make a shitshow look a whole lot like forever and ever

Code blatently stolen from queen of codes, Sky!

And I feel like my castle's crumbling down
And I watch all my bridges burn to the ground

Sobs eventually subsided to hiccups, which faded, in time, to silence. It was broken only by the whispers of passersby, who went entirely ignored by the two young women who mourned the vibrant griffin whose life had been cut too short as a result of his bonded's hubris. And then, when Soh had calmed, pressed against Flora like a lifeline, her best friend continued to reassure her, brushing away her tears, offering the sort of certainty that only she could.

And for the first time, Soh began to wonder if it was truly possible. Of course, it could happen - hadn't Alys returned her companion from the dead, after all? - but would it happen to her?

She'd never know if she didn't try.

So she listened as Flora warned her of the days to come, sniffling softly as her silver gaze met aqua, foreheads pressed together as though sharing a secret. "One step at a time," she agreed then, her voice a rasping whisper. It wasn't much, but it didn't have to be - she could take it day by day. She could survive this.

She would survive this. Tarak would have wanted her to.

And maybe, someday, she would bring him back.

And you don't want to know me, I will just let you down
You don't wanna know me now

Sohalia

flora

The hush that had wrapped around them like a cloak finally begins to lift, pierced by the rising murmur of the city. Somewhere near the edge of the plaza, a sharp voice rises above the din—indignant, nasal, and entirely unimportant.

“You can’t just leave your skyship in the middle of the plaza!”

Flora doesn’t even flinch. She merely tucks Soh closer, wrapping an arm around her waist and guiding her up with the quiet, practiced strength of someone who’s done this before. "Ughh," she mutters, lips brushing the edge of Soh’s temple. "Come on. Let’s get out of here."

Turning her back on the complaints and stares, Flora steers them gently but firmly through the square, her other hand gesturing Spice down from her lazy spiral overhead. "I’ve got snacks on the Sugartide," she says softly, offering it like a lifeline. "And blankets. And a ridiculous amount of soft pillows. We can curl up, eat something sweet, and nap above the clouds until things feel a little less awful."

The words are easy, light, but underneath them is the steady promise she’s always offered Sohalia: I’ve got you.

And with that, the Queen of Torchline ferries her best friend through the murmuring plaza and back aboard her skyship, leaving only glittering frost and furious officials in her wake.

~FIN

I'm stupid but I'm clever
I can make a shitshow look a whole lot like forever and ever

Code blatently stolen from queen of codes, Sky!