following your heart

Kamaria

only in light
can we see our shadows

One moment, the tall grass is billowing in the sea breeze. The road to nowhere was as quiet as ever, resting beneath the shadows of long-dead ships. Then, quite suddenly and quite unexpectedly, the grass was stamped down by two bare feet. A happy giggle broke the silence and a smile like the sun cast its light upon the scenery. Even a graveyard couldn't keep this spirit down.

Kamaria lifted her eyes and cast her gaze out upon the Boondocks. A great weight lifted from her as she found herself back in the place she once called home. Ah, but.. it was different now. Every blade of grass, every grain of sand, even the salty tang in the air was different. And so was she.

No longer a child but a woman now. And no longer was the Boondocks just a graveyard of ships. To her great delight, boats and stalls teemed along the shoreline. Traveling on the wind, she could hear the clamor of merchants hawking wares and customers arguing to stake their claims.

Yet, as amazing as it was to see the place transformed into a hub of activity, she was looking for something else. Someone else. Someone who, perhaps, was responsible for it all. With determined stride, her starry dress and long hair billowing in the wind, Kamaria made her way along the seaside. She could not help the smile that remained plastered to her face, for she knew that she would find him - or he would find her.

and only in shadows
can we see our light

code credits to LovelySkylark<3!

// now we are hanging out in the backyard //

The stars had never been the same for the Flood as they had been when he’d first arrived.

He’d dabbled with it, the whole expanse of cosmos bottled up into one singular goddess, transforming him from Accepted into Attuned, shifts that he had felt as if he’d owed her for. She had gained his loyalty and with it, the blades in his hands.

And then the stars turned dark, shadowed and hidden away, with deals made in order to keep loved ones alive (the bargain that had brought his daughter to him). And while the circumstances weren’t received well, he hadn’t regretted it. The reasonings, the ways he’d done it, sure.

But having the bright speck of his daughter in his life, even if Safrin whispered lies into her mind like snakes slithering through tall grasses, was one thing he was proud of. He’d always been so terrified of becoming his father, of letting himself turn into the iron willed monster that he’d hated ever since he could think for himself, even if he tried desperately to gain that man’s approval.

He had surprised himself when he’d been good at it. Up to a point.

Because then he had betrayed the stars. He had them burned out of him. He spurned the goddess that had granted him so much until he was incapable and unwilling to give her more.

And then, Kamaria, as a teenager still trying to understand and manage her emotions, warped by Safrin’s tongue rather than letting Sunjata explain, had slipped away into Ronin’s care — for however long it had been — before she’d returned to the stars.

Since then, he’d never looked at the stars the same again.

He tried to avoid them as much as possible, truthfully, and the only reason he did cast a glance up now and then to the glittering domain was the fleeting thoughts that maybe she was up there looking down. Maybe she wouldn’t hate him for the rest of his life. Maybe she’d understand one day why he’d done what he did.

So it had been another thought and series of feelings that had been long since buried amongst the abyss of another life.

He could only hope she was happy wherever she was. And he, himself, would try to be just as happy all the same. And one day, maybe, he would see her again.

Sunjata doesn’t anticipate that day being today, of all days. If he had, maybe he would have dressed a bit nicer. Instead, the Flood stands amongst the docks in naught more than a white sleeveless shirt, paired with jeans that seem faded at the knees, flashing a bright and crooked smile to the merchant who’s showing him a variety of fish while Petronella tries to pounce on the wiggling tail of a fresh catch, still in the water of a bucket on the dock. In his other hand, as he chastises the sea panther with a soft little laugh, he holds a bag with warm pastries from one of Hotaru’s favorite places here in the market.

Focused and busy as he is, he doesn’t notice his daughter from where he’s standing, but the wing tattoos that spread down the backs of his arms are quite visible from this distance, even as he gestures to the fish Petronella keeps tormenting.

the flood

// looking at a new point of view //

Kamaria

only in light
can we see our shadows

Kamaria’s boots crunched over the wet gravel as she strolled along the ocean’s edge, the sound of the sea slapping against the docks playing in the background like a song she’d forgotten the words to. She moved with purpose, but there was a kind of drifting in her steps, too. A meandering that mirrored the way her mind floated between memories. It was hard not to get lost in them here, where the air tasted of salt and fish, and the wind smelled like it had secrets to tell. Everything about this place was alive, buzzing.

Just like the stars.

But today, the stars weren’t there. Not really. She still felt them in some faraway way, a soft hum that was always present, even when she wasn’t looking. That’s how it had been, up there with her mother—Safrin always watching. It was hard to shake the feeling that you were being cradled and caged at the same time. So she’d left, of course, to come back here. Where things were messier. More… human.

She pushed a stray lock of hair out of her face and narrowed her eyes against the wind, scanning the market ahead. The stalls were full of life—merchants hawking their wares, children darting through the crowd, and the steady hum of people going about their business. All these lives, intersecting and continuing, as if the war hadn’t fractured the world she once knew. As if nothing had been broken.

Her heart beat faster the closer she got. Her thoughts skittered across the surface of her mind like a pebble skipping across water. What would she say when she found him? Would it be like the old days, when they’d sit together at the kitchen table, talking about nothing and everything all at once? Or had too much time passed, too many words left unsaid?

Kamaria stopped at a stall, her fingers brushing the cool, rough surface of a wooden carving—a boat, simple but beautiful in its way. For a moment, she was a kid again, helping Sunjata in their kitchen. The smell of pancakes and syrup so thick in the air it was almost tangible. His laughter—warm and full—bubbling up when he botched the flip, sending a half-cooked pancake splattering across the floor. She’d giggled right along with him, flour dusting her face like stardust, because those moments had been theirs. No gods, no war, no betrayal. Just them.

But things had changed. She had changed. The sharp edges of his betrayal had dulled over time, worn down by understanding. It had taken years of wrestling with Safrin’s honeyed lies, of untangling the webs of loyalty, love, and survival. She saw it now—his impossible choice. The war had loomed, a threat too real to ignore, and he’d acted out of love. A desperate, flawed love. It didn’t erase the hurt, but it made room for something else—something softer, like empathy.

She sighed and moved on, the crowd parting around her as she let herself feel the weight of the moment. She was almost there. Somewhere beyond the hum of voices, past the smell of baked goods and fresh fish, he was waiting. He didn’t know it yet, but he was. And so was she.

When she finally spotted him, standing by the docks with that crooked smile she remembered so well, her breath caught in her throat. He hadn’t changed much, at least not on the surface—same sun-kissed skin, same easy charm. He was laughing, something soft in his expression as he playfully chastised the sea panther at his side, one hand holding a bag of pastries, the other gesturing to a merchant showing him fish.

The sight of him was like a punch to the gut. She wanted to laugh, to cry, to run and stay rooted in place all at once. The years of separation, the anger, the hurt—they all felt like distant stars now, flickering in the background but no longer burning her.

Her eyes traced the familiar tattoos on his arms—wings that had spread so wide once, carrying her, protecting her, even when she didn’t realize it.

“Dad,” she called softly, the word catching in her throat as if she hadn’t used it in years, which she hadn’t. The sound was small, almost lost in the noise of the market, but she knew he’d hear it. He always had.

and only in shadows
can we see our light

code credits to LovelySkylark<3!

// now we are hanging out in the backyard //

Chastising Petronella as she tries her hardest to snag the fish in question, Sunjata’s glad that the fishing merchant isn’t upset by her antics. If anything, the man is curious — having never seen a panther, of course it would be a surprise that someone would have one as their companion.

It’s no surprise that it’s Sunjata who does, though.

And so, after a bit of bartering and easy chatting, the Flood has managed to secure the fish for the cub, and he’s nodding to her to tell her that she can collect it. She happily does, plucking it out of the bucket with sharp teeth to carry back off the boat onto land, pride lingering in the lines of her dark sleek body.

Turning away from the merchant with a wave and a smile, feet meet land again as he starts to head back the way home, the pastries held in his lightning scarred hand, steel eyes following Petronella as she happily waddles the fish back toward home, a happy hunter with her prize.

At least, until the Dad crosses the air, and despite all of the sounds in the Boondocks, the Flood would know that voice anywhere. And it’s with such a shock and surprise that he nearly drops the pastries, fumbling to try and grab it, and in the same span of time the emotions crossed are so strong that Petronella does drop the fish as her head lifts for the source.

And when Sunjata looks up, he sees her, like a brilliant blonde star amongst the darkened sea. There’s so many emotions that burst through his being, so much that it’s incapable to hold onto. But the one that shines out the most on his handsomely scarred face is happiness, while the rest of his neck and shoulders fill out with navy feathers of his surprise. He abandons every plan in mind and his strides are quick and fast as he crosses the distance to his daughter, trying desperately to not get choked up.

She’s older now, which surprises him, but she’s beautiful and radiant and Sunjata could not have imagined a better outcome to see her step down from the stars. “Kamaria,” it’s a whisper in his accent, immediately pulling her in for a hug like he used to, all encompassing, all protection, all love and adoration. Because for all of the faults between him and Safrin, he loves his daughter more than everything else.

And now she’s here. Tangible. No longer does he have to stare at the stars in the hopes she’ll see him back.

“Gods, it’s really you. I missed you, my kleintjie.” He doesn’t want to let go just yet, as if afraid that if he does she’ll vanish once again.

the flood

// looking at a new point of view //