Theea
there exists no mightier miracle than this:
“Wait, hang on—” I get out, half-choking around a bite of grilled chicken before Flora’s arm links through mine like a hook and I’m already moving. The meat is incredible, sweet with a little fire—definitely a dish worth dying for—but my hands are too full of nerves to carry a plate, so I set it down on the edge of a table as I’m swept after her, chewing fast like it’ll keep me grounded.
Turns out, it doesn’t.
The crowd thins and thickens in bursts, voices and laughter rippling like waves through warm air, and I’m swept straight into the undertow. Before I know it, I’m standing in the orbit of two men whose names might as well have been stitched into the sky. Flora announces me like a royal debut, her voice rich with warmth and a little mischief, and I can’t even roll my eyes—because my heart is hammering against my ribs like it wants to climb out and introduce itself first.
Vai’s granddaughter. The name lands like a stone in my chest—familiar, aching. My memories of her are more ghost than real. But my mother told me her laughter could clear a cloudy sky. How she made lovely wind chimes with shells and seaglass.. How she would’ve loved me if things had turned out differently.
I barely have time to process the ache before my eyes lift—and there they are.
Ronin and Remi fucking Taliesin.
It should be overwhelming, but somehow—like gentle sunlight filtered through palm leaves—it isn’t. It’s just… real.
I swallow the last of the chicken and find my smile before it can get lost in my nerves. It tugs crookedly across my face, wry and a little breathless. My voice isn’t steady, exactly, but it finds its footing.
“Crab-kicker, right?”
Turns out, it doesn’t.
The crowd thins and thickens in bursts, voices and laughter rippling like waves through warm air, and I’m swept straight into the undertow. Before I know it, I’m standing in the orbit of two men whose names might as well have been stitched into the sky. Flora announces me like a royal debut, her voice rich with warmth and a little mischief, and I can’t even roll my eyes—because my heart is hammering against my ribs like it wants to climb out and introduce itself first.
Vai’s granddaughter. The name lands like a stone in my chest—familiar, aching. My memories of her are more ghost than real. But my mother told me her laughter could clear a cloudy sky. How she made lovely wind chimes with shells and seaglass.. How she would’ve loved me if things had turned out differently.
I barely have time to process the ache before my eyes lift—and there they are.
Ronin and Remi fucking Taliesin.
It should be overwhelming, but somehow—like gentle sunlight filtered through palm leaves—it isn’t. It’s just… real.
I swallow the last of the chicken and find my smile before it can get lost in my nerves. It tugs crookedly across my face, wry and a little breathless. My voice isn’t steady, exactly, but it finds its footing.
“Crab-kicker, right?”
to feel.
