Ashe
i find myself here alone on this dusty road
waiting for a sign to point me home
waiting for a sign to point me home
When Remi says he brings Vai back once a year, the rest of my thoughts scatter like ash on the wind.
I blink at him—like maybe I didn’t hear right, like my ears are playing tricks. But they’re not. It sinks in slowly, then all at once, a warmth flaring through me so bright it’s almost painful. Not the end. Not the last time. The hope that rises in me is wild and golden and blinding. My voice catches on the inhale before I can speak, before I can even process the enormity of it.
“That’s—Remi, that’s amazing—all of this has already been amazing,” I manage, my voice as breathless as my heart feels. “Gods, I can’t believe sometimes how much your power has grown. I still remember the alchemist from the Settlement, shy and sweet, helping me tinker with my janky little pinky.” I hold up my hand as if he could see it again, like we’re still in that grove, the three of us. “You were always brilliant. Just didn’t know it yet.”
I could cry again, but the tears feel different this time. Not grief. Just too much light in a place that’s been cold for a very long time.
When he mentions war stories, I let out a huff, a smirk tugging at my mouth. “Oh, I think isolating my kid in the mountains might count as a pretty dramatic parenting mistake.” I roll my eyes, but there’s no real bite in it. “We’ll call it… survival-based stupidity.”
Then Ronin mentions some incredible disaster of a story and my eyebrows shoot up like I’ve been personally challenged. “You definitely have to tell me that sometime. You can’t just say that and not explain. If anyone remembers anything about me, it’s that I’m nosy as fuck.” I poke a finger lightly into his ribs. “Especially when it comes to the juicy shit.”
And then Remi has the audacity to drop that story.
I stare at them both, laughter spilling out of me in an incredulous rush. “I need the entire story. I shouldn’t even be surprised. Ronin I swear you are the most accident-prone person I’ve ever met. No—danger-prone." I purse my lips a little, thinking back on our colorful lives. "But then again… I guess we all are.”
I lean in a little closer to both of them, as if I could absorb more of this ridiculous, golden comfort by proximity alone. The fire of it flickers low and warm in my chest, steadying me in a way I hadn’t thought possible when I first stepped onto the sand. Not just welcome. Wanted.
Home, maybe. At last.
I blink at him—like maybe I didn’t hear right, like my ears are playing tricks. But they’re not. It sinks in slowly, then all at once, a warmth flaring through me so bright it’s almost painful. Not the end. Not the last time. The hope that rises in me is wild and golden and blinding. My voice catches on the inhale before I can speak, before I can even process the enormity of it.
“That’s—Remi, that’s amazing—all of this has already been amazing,” I manage, my voice as breathless as my heart feels. “Gods, I can’t believe sometimes how much your power has grown. I still remember the alchemist from the Settlement, shy and sweet, helping me tinker with my janky little pinky.” I hold up my hand as if he could see it again, like we’re still in that grove, the three of us. “You were always brilliant. Just didn’t know it yet.”
I could cry again, but the tears feel different this time. Not grief. Just too much light in a place that’s been cold for a very long time.
When he mentions war stories, I let out a huff, a smirk tugging at my mouth. “Oh, I think isolating my kid in the mountains might count as a pretty dramatic parenting mistake.” I roll my eyes, but there’s no real bite in it. “We’ll call it… survival-based stupidity.”
Then Ronin mentions some incredible disaster of a story and my eyebrows shoot up like I’ve been personally challenged. “You definitely have to tell me that sometime. You can’t just say that and not explain. If anyone remembers anything about me, it’s that I’m nosy as fuck.” I poke a finger lightly into his ribs. “Especially when it comes to the juicy shit.”
And then Remi has the audacity to drop that story.
I stare at them both, laughter spilling out of me in an incredulous rush. “I need the entire story. I shouldn’t even be surprised. Ronin I swear you are the most accident-prone person I’ve ever met. No—danger-prone." I purse my lips a little, thinking back on our colorful lives. "But then again… I guess we all are.”
I lean in a little closer to both of them, as if I could absorb more of this ridiculous, golden comfort by proximity alone. The fire of it flickers low and warm in my chest, steadying me in a way I hadn’t thought possible when I first stepped onto the sand. Not just welcome. Wanted.
Home, maybe. At last.
i'll close my eyes and put my feet to the ground
'cause when i'm lost, i don't want to be found
'cause when i'm lost, i don't want to be found
