[Training] Heartbreak survivors

Hels had never been among Hadama's favorite creatures. Their cousins, the humble seagulls, might be joining them towards the bottom of his list after today. For a brief moment their wings cleared, giving him a clear look at Sohalia - closer than he had realized, but already moving again - and then the swirl of feathered bodies became blinding once more.

Only this time it was also deafening as raucous screeching filled his ears.

If he had been more ruthless, more willing to harm the innocent birds, he might have had less trouble... but he chose to give the Luminary the benefit of the doubt. Chose to assume that she had selected this gambit because she knew that he would not sacrifice her pawns. A final Gravity Spike was summoned and loosed in the last direction he had seen her moving, a blind attempt at best, before he retreated from the feisty flock.

"I yield," he called, his deep voice raised to cut through the cacophony.
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4/4

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

There was a vague sense of satisfaction for a moment as Hadama yielded, and Sohalia banished the gulls as quickly as she'd summoned them with a silent pulse of gratefulness through the Attuned bond with them. The birds fled, squawking and wheeling above, to find somewhere less dangerous to hunt for food. With their departure, the shore was suddenly very quiet, and the satisfaction that Soh had felt at her victory disappeared as quickly as it had come.

She studied Hadama, her arms crossed over her chest, unsure what she was supposed to have learned from this little exercise and wishing very much that she could go back to a time when she'd felt more confident. "Your Spikes are impressive," she offered, grey eyes stormy as she tried to puzzle through her thoughts and emotions. Had this been some kind of test? Had she passed or failed?

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

Sohalia

He held his arms up to continue guarding his head until he was certain that the birds were leaving - that his surrender had been heard above their raucous calls. The weight lifted from his shoulders, his head, his arms in a rush of feathers and the stink of dead fish from their earlier meals and only after three full breaths free of their beating wings did he lift his head, allowing his defensive stance to relax once more.

He took a moment to brush off feathers and neaten his hair as best he could before he finally returned his gaze to the Luminary. The weight of her own eyes upon him had been palpable but he did not rush his ministrations. And once he looked her over once more - noting the injuries left in the wake of his power - he inclined his head in acceptance of her compliment as much as in apology for the wounds inflicted. "Thank you. May I heal us?" There were questions in her eyes but the reading of minds was not among his powers. He could not answer what was not asked, and so he contented himself with a query of his own, quietly rumbled across the breaking of the nearby surf.

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

With the birds gone, silence descended between the pair, broken only by the gentle lap of waves upon sand. Questions swirled in Soh's mind, nearly eclipsing the tingling pain of her injuries - so much so that when Hadama offered to heal them, the young woman blinked with surprise. "Oh - yes, of course. Thank you."

Once they were healed, Soh cast her gaze out to the sea. Her gull friends had disappeared down the beach, but their brethren wheeled and soared out over the ocean, dipping periodically to nab something from the water. "Things have been strange between us," she commented at last. "I... thought we were friends. Are we still?"

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

Sohalia

The mist rose around them, pale and wispy in the light of the sun but no less powerful for its thinness. In its wake bruises and cuts were healed and their bodies were left refreshed even if their souls were still burdened. Hadama watched Sohalia afterwards for a long moment before turning his gaze out to sea to follow hers, content as always to stand in silence even if that silence no longer held the easy warmth it once had.

The words that broke that silence were not unexpected. Hadama drew in a deep breath of salt-laden air before letting it out slowly. His thoughts were held close, each word examined with care before he spoke it with quiet deliberation.

"I was... uncertain. After Flora was healed of the Infection." He turned his head to look at the Luminary once more, unsmiling. "I had prepared a ruse. To pretend that I had not received her letter and therefore the Rose it led me to. So that she would let her guard down and let me close." He paused, waiting to see if the former Heart understood. "But... she informed me that you had told her about delivering the letter to me. Her healing came down to luck and brute force, Sohalia. It was... terrifyingly near to failing." He watched her without anger, but also without forgiveness. "I lost trust in you." The admission was deceptively simple for all the weight it carried.

He drew in another deep breath and looked away, back out over the endless waves. "But I did not fail. And now the Family and their threats are gone. Most of them." His jaw tightened briefly. "Tarak's loss was... painful. A reminder of how unexpectedly we can lose the ones we love. I... regret the distance that I have put between us now. But I do not know how to mend it."

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

It was not unlike Hadama to speak with care, but today it seemed that he spoke with even more than normal, weighing and deliberating each words before it emerged. And Soh listened, her heart sinking in her chest as her fears were confirmed. And not just fears that there was something wrong between them, but that it was her fault. The Luminary snuck a quick glance at Hadama, turmoil in her silver gaze, before looking back out to sea. Still, even then, she didn’t interrupt. She needed to hear where they went from here, if there was indeed anywhere to go at all.

When he finally fell silent, Soh gave him the courtesy of weighing her own response. Where she might once have protested, or found some excuse, perhaps Tarak’s death had tempered her impulses somewhat. So instead she spoke softly, but her voice was firm. ”I’m sorry that I failed you.” That her actions, however seemingly innocent they might have been, might have led to Flora’s loss. ”I wish… that things were different.” That she was different. But she was what she was, and there was no going back to change it now.

”Perhaps,” she started after a long moment. ”We could… start again. I understand that regaining your trust is no small thing, but… I am willing to try, if you would let me.”

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

Sohalia

He would not offer her less courtesy than she had given him, and he waited in patient silence while she absorbed his words. He had nowhere else that was as important to be as this place in this moment, and he stood at apparent ease as he looked out over the horizon, though the tension was faintly visible in his shoulders for those who knew him well enough to see it.

And when Sohalia finally found the words that she wished to speak he nodded carefully, once, in silent acceptance of an apology that mended a great deal. So it was that her suggestion was met with due consideration. His answer was not swift, but it was certain when it came, as sure of his words as he could be.

"I would like that. Very much."

He breathed deep of the Leafchange air, salten and still warm in spite of the changing seasons, and then turned to Sohalia to offer his large hand with due solemnity.

It was not trust yet. But it was forgiveness. And a place to begin once more.

~Fin