Call the wind and let her know

Maea

And I hope that you don't suffer
But take the pain

During the hottest time of day, even the Greatwood was comfortable for an Ancient. Sunlight filtered down through the dense canopies and dappled the forest floor with gold and green, turning the shaded areas into artwork - like a cathedral of light and shadow and growing things. 

Maea had settled down by the roots of an old tree, idling the day away with journaling and little sketches of whatever the pools chose to display. Landscapes and details of buildings marched up and down the margins, some neat while others had become muddled in the attempt to capture too many details. A blackbird serenaded her attempts from a nearby shrub - or possibly tried to chase her away from its nest, if the persistence was any indication. Choosing willful ignorance as a theme for the day, she paused only to brush a strand of hair from her face. Feasting on the vibrancy of colors displayed around her, for once Maea felt perfectly at ease.

Hope if everybody runs
You choose to stay

He said "I bet you don't remember me"

The heat presses down like a hand against the back of Remi’s neck, sweat slicking his curls to his forehead as he moves deeper into the Greatwood. His shirt—light linen, pale and already sticking to his back—is half-unbuttoned, the sleeves pushed up his forearms. Sandals crunch softly against the moss and roots beneath him, though his gaze never lingers long on the ground.

In his arms, he cradles a large canister of reinforced glass and metal, its lid threaded tightly and enchanted to seal without breaking the properties of whatever might eventually go inside.

The pools wait ahead—still and strange, nestled like forgotten thoughts in the ruined bones of the forest. The air feels thicker here, as though the heat can’t quite decide if it wants to evaporate or settle, and Remi exhales slowly as he steps closer to one of the waters.

The sound of the bird catches his attention before he sees her—an indignant trill layered with persistence, not unlike a voice he knows well. And then he spots her. Tucked at the roots of a tree like she belongs there—pale hair catching the light, journal spread across her knees, surrounded by sketches that climb across the page like creeping vines. For a moment, Remi simply watches, sea-glass eyes flicking from her thoughtful frown to the soft, defiant bird nearby."You always did have a knack for finding the most scenic spots," he says gently, breaking the silence as he steps forward into the dappled clearing. The thermos shifts under one arm, and he tilts his head toward the shimmering pools. "I should have expected to find you out here." His smile is warm despite the sweat curling at his collarbones, and though the heat of LongHeat clings to him, something in his posture softens around her presence.

and I said "only ever other memory"

Maea

And I hope that you don't suffer
But take the pain

Soft lavender eyes fell from the pattern of branches and leaves and settled upon the Bastion. A smile creased the corners of them, surprise fading into warm recognition at the sight of him. "And you have a knack for finding me at them," she replied, with a brightness like laughter threading through her tone. "For which I'm very glad, I might add."

Closing the journal so that she could give Remi her undivided attention, she stujdied the canister in his arms with some curiosity. "What are you working on this time?" It couldn't be the rose still... unless he needed another flower. Gods knew there were never enough of them to go around. "How's Ronin doing? And you?" He looked well at a glance, and she hoped appearances was a true indicator for once.

Hope if everybody runs
You choose to stay

He said "I bet you don't remember me"

Remi’s smile deepens, fond and a little crooked, the way it always does around Maea. "Well, if you're going to haunt the prettiest corners of the world, I suppose I'll just have to keep stumbling into them." His voice is light, playful, though something in the way his gaze lingers on her face—searching for shadows, for exhaustion, for anything more than what she offers—betrays how much he still worries.

At her question, he shifts the canister in his arms and ruffles a hand through his curls, exhaling a breath that carries more heat than weight. "Part quest, part anniversary gift," he admits, nodding toward the glimmering pools with a tilt of his chin. "Our ten-year wedding anniversary is next season, and I want to make it...something neither of us will ever forget." His smile turns briefly wistful, eyes flicking out over the mirrored surface of the water. "Mort’s helping me with it," he adds.

Turning back to her, Remi softens again. "Ronin’s good. Seren's death hit him hard, but I think his BBQ on the beach helped spark a bit of joy back into him. And I..." He pauses, thoughtful. "I'm better than I’ve been in a long while." His tone suggests gratitude more than pride, and the look he gives her now is quieter. "What about you, Maea? How are things in your world these days?"

and I said "only ever other memory"

Maea

And I hope that you don't suffer
But take the pain

Quiet laughter colored the air between them, shrinking the distance like it was only yesterday they spoke last. Haunting the landscape, was she? Apt, though she was reluctant to admit it. Better that than cursing it, she supposed, and worth it if she got visits every once in a while.

"It's been ten years already? Gods, it both feels like it and not." Shaking her head in disbelief, Maea dragged fingers through her salt-white hair. "Can I know what you're planning, or is it a secret?" Gazing at him fondly, she wouldn't mind either way – especially not since she was able to help out a bit. Gathering up pen and journal and stashing them into a generous skirt pocket, the pale little woman got to her feet and came sauntering over. Caught on a good day, the shadows of her heart lay tucked well away beneath the surface, only flickering past in her eyes occasionally when contemplating Ronin's grief, or the general state of her own life.
"That's wonderful to hear, for the both of you. I actually wrote to him the other day... just to tallk. That he is feeling better makes me look forward to his response even more."

She smiled at his inquiry into her goings-on, though the sigh she ket out was heartfelt. "The consequences of my actions keep catching up with me," she admitted, allowing the facade to slip just enough for a glimpse into how much it weighed on her. "I try to make amends where I can, but... I'm starting to realise just how deep the damage goes. Changing so many ingrained patterns of behaviour is easier said than done.. I'm doing the work, though. Looking forward, not back." Touching the journal absently, it stood as testament to the soul-searching she had been doing for the past months. Too close to it to see whether it was working yet, at least she found comfort in the effort she put in. "On a positive note, I've had some luck while I've been here. No less than two miracles sprouted when I least expected it - so I feel like it's been worth the change of plans." Not to mention the difference it had made to have a home to return to; a tent no matter how comfortable couldn't even compare.

Hope if everybody runs
You choose to stay

He said "I bet you don't remember me"

Remi grins, boyish and sunlit, the expression bright despite the heat clinging to his skin. "I know," he says with a soft laugh. "Ten years." He gives his curls a half-hearted ruffle, glancing toward the pools with a faintly dazed look, like the weight of that time is still settling into his bones. Then, turning back to Maea with a glint in his eye, he adds, "As for what I’m planning—well. Let’s just say I intend to make sure all of our friends are there." The wry tilt of his mouth and the glimmer of something unspoken in his tone say more than he needs to. "You'll see," he adds, because of course she'd be on the guest list.

Her mention of writing to Ronin earns a crooked smile. "Mmm, you might want to pop by and see him in person, just in case," he says with a chuckle. "Our companions like to make paper boats out of our mail. If your letter didn’t end up floating around the harbour, I’d be surprised."

As Maea goes on, Remi hums thoughtfully, the sound one of shared understanding. "The consequences of your actions, hm?" he echoes, his smile dry and knowing. "That’s a familiar kind of ghost." He shifts the canister to his other arm and leans against a tree beside her, his tone softening. " Patterns are like wounds. They don’t close all at once, no matter how much you want them to. Doesn’t mean you’re not healing or changing—just means it’ll take time. And it’s good, Maea. That you’re trying."

The mention of the miracles draws a more genuine surprise, and his eyebrows lift with delight. "Two?" he asks, straightening a little. "That’s amazing. By that score, you’ve contributed more to stopping the Family lately than I have." There's no jealousy in the words—only a warm pride, and the kind of admiration that’s earned, not assumed. "You’ve always had a bit of that in you, I think. Luck wrapped in grit."

and I said "only ever other memory"

Maea

And I hope that you don't suffer
But take the pain

If by all friends he meant exactly that, then the quest he was on - and Mort's involvement - could only mean one thing. Rendered speechless for several heartbeats, her open mouth curved into an eager smile. "Oh, I most definitely look forward to that!" she breathed, warmth flooding her chest at the unspoken implication that she was welcome to the celebration. "And I'll make sure to drop by to see you both before then... I had no idea your companions were such crafty little menaces." Chuckling at the image of her letter taking flight with Oria clinging to it and Sugar speeding along beside her, she couldn't muster any upset about it - not when there was zero ill intent behind it.

Leaning back against the tree next to Remi, she found his quiet understanding to be a soothing thing. No advice was forthcoming because the support was really all she needed. This quiet faith in her, that Maea didn't often feel even for herself, seemed convinced that she would figure it out - no matter how many setbacks or detours it took. And for once, she accepted his praise with a flush of quiet pride - knowing how much work had gone into the search, for all that luck remained a key component.
"It feels good to contribute," she replied. "We really can't have enough of them... It feels as though I hear about more infected as the seasons pass." Tapping the toe of her shoe against a knotted root, she frowned softly at the scowl she perceived in the bark. "I ran into a Villi as I passed the Barrows on my way home. It was infected, and almost raised the whole graveyard on us... I dont know if that's normal. Or if these creatures are getting stronger..?"

Which could be her imagination, but still raised questions of how long she would be able to keep scouring the woods for roses, before the Void came crawling back in. Would she have to relocate again, before long?

Hope if everybody runs
You choose to stay

He said "I bet you don't remember me"

Remi huffs a laugh, the sound warm and tinged with exasperated affection. "Oria was a gift from Mort," he says, lips curving as he shakes his head, curls sticking slightly to his temple in the heat. "And then she met Sugar, and now the two of them are in a lifelong competition to see who can cause the most chaos while still pretending to be cute about it." There’s no real complaint in his voice—just the helpless pride of a parent utterly outmatched by the small, winged creatures under his roof.

But her next words drain some of the levity from his expression.

The mention of more and more infections...of the Barrows...of a Villi nearly unearthing the dead...Remi exhales slowly. His jaw tenses. His arms fold across his chest with a slow, deliberate motion, as if bracing against something colder than the LongHeat sun.

" When Dahlia got to Ronin," he says quietly, the words heavy as stones, "and infected him, she told him if we did anything—if we interfered in any way—she’d go after Flora and Mateo. She said she’d torture them. Kill them over and over past the point of Ronin being able to bring them back." His voice doesn’t rise, but there’s a current beneath it, dark and tight. The kind of fury that doesn’t burn hot, but deep.

"So we’ve done nothing." His mouth pulls into something that might’ve been a grimace, if it had the energy for it. He glances away, biting the inside of his cheek, hating his inability to contribute.

Thinking back to the Villi, Remi's brows draw together. "It wouldn’t surprise me," he admits, gaze distant now, eyes flicking across the still pools like they might reflect something deeper. "It might be a tactic. To force more of us to use the lilies and roses to cleanse our own regions so there's less to use to cure infections, and less to use on Starfall."

His fingers twitch against his bicep, restless.

and I said "only ever other memory"

Maea

And I hope that you don't suffer
But take the pain

Seeing the brightness fade in him was painful enough that she almost regretted saying anything about the Villi. His frustration and anger were plain to see, like heat rippling off a superheated surface - so quiet and intense that she would have felt sorry for the Family that had to face it. Would. If they hadn't been the cause of it in the first place. Now she was only sorry to see his hands tied and children held as hostage against their parents. Sah was another who had been likewise threatened, and the worst part about the insidious tactic was that it worked.

With a sinking feeling, she realized that she too was blindsided by the many needs the roses had to cover. Closing her eyes against a wave of guilt, she leaned aside to press her shoulder against Remi's - whether to offer support or receive it was hard to say. "They understand us well," she admitted grudgingly. "In fact, my first thought for the latest find was Halo, the Tundra... and Liam should be there now, to offer it to Deimos. Now I feel awful for making him choose between healing his land or healing the world." Would that she could make it for herself instead of entrusting it to others. But that was the usual lament of the powerless, and she had promised herself to stop whining and start working.

"I do know that it comforts us all to know that you and Ronin remain behind the lines, even if you can't fight." she added, smiling softly at her friend. "To patch us up, dust us off and remind us what we're fighting for. Your ten years is a miracle in itself - I dare say it's changed this world in subtle, but profound ways. I feel it. I think all of us who get to know you, can feel it."

Hope if everybody runs
You choose to stay

He said "I bet you don't remember me"

Remi huffs softly, the sound somewhere between exasperation and fondness as Maea leans against his shoulder. He doesn’t shift away. If anything, his posture softens, as if some of the pressure under his ribs gives just a little.

"The guilt’s not yours to carry," he murmurs, shaking his head. His voice is quiet, heavy with certainty. "Deimos accepted that weight when he became Warden. When he became one of Safrin's chosen. Whatever he decides to do, he’ll do it with his whole chest—and he won’t look back and second-guess it, not even for a moment. That’s what men like him do. They don’t dither. They just decide." There’s admiration in his tone, as well as the faintest envy. Remi was made of knots and contradiction, not iron like the Sword.

As for her attempt to console him, he snorts. The sound is not unkind—just dry. Tired. "Would you mind putting that on a magnet? I’ll stick it on the icebox so Ronin and I can read it over tea in the morning." He gives her a sidelong glance, wry. "Maybe it’ll keep us from wanting to scream into the pillows."

Still, his smile fades into something more honest, more worn. "When Flora told us what she'd agreed to with Dahlia, we thought she'd break her word immediately and stay in Haulani where she'd be safe. With she and Mateo inside, we thought we'd finally be back in the fight." He drags a hand through his curls and glances out at the undergrowth. "But of course she didn’t. And now we feel even more useless than before, truth be told."

and I said "only ever other memory"

Maea

And I hope that you don't suffer
But take the pain

Her nose scrunched in a faint grimace. "Alright, that was a bit much. All the gratitude in the world won't make it easier to sit out the fight." Something she knew all too well for herself. "Makes me think that Flora is more like Deimos in that way. She made a decision and stuck to it... I do wonder if she could be persuaded to consider breaking the deal at some point, though? Like a tactical decision, at some opportune moment... I can see her enjoying the idea of whipping you two out like an ace up her sleeve." Though, Maea also thought she understood why the queen refused to hide behind a shield and let her family face all the danger on her behalf. Fighting for someone or even fighting together was far easier to swallow than being fought for.

Glancing at Remi, his decision not to fight for the sake of others was just as resolute as any the Warden had to make. No easier, no less admirable - and she could never blame him for choosing between family over the world, no matter how easy it would be for a bystander to do. Who wouldn't, really?

"Imagine if the Family could be made to give up the idea of invasion... Do you think that could ever happen? Or are we just too different to ever coexist...?"

Hope if everybody runs
You choose to stay

He said "I bet you don't remember me"

Remi laughs under his breath, the sound low and edged with irony. If he knew the full tangle of things between Flora and Maea, he might have given her a more pointed look—but as it stands, he just shakes his head, curls shifting with the motion. "Mmm. I think you’re underestimating how stubborn Flora can be," he says dryly. "But also, unlike with Ronin and I, Dahlia didn't just threaten Flora's family. She threatened everyone she cares about. Which, judging by the crowd at the Hanged Man the other night, is...a lot of people."

He leans his shoulder back against the tree and exhales slowly. "Everyone would have to stay in Haulani to keep Dahlia away from them, and I just don’t see that happening." Those his daughter were closest to weren't the sort of sit behind barriers and play cards while the rest of the world was fighting. His voice holds no judgment—if anything, there’s a note of reluctant admiration in it. Flora wouldn’t be Flora if she weren’t feral at the edges, and he supposed really he only had himself to blame for that.

As for the rest, his brows rise and fall with the kind of slow, sardonic flair that says he’s already dismissed the idea before Maea finishes asking. "Oh, I’m sure we could coexist," he says, gaze tipping toward the dappled canopy above. "So long as we all accept the Family as the superior race and agree to become happy little Friends of the Family." His mouth curves wryly. "Then we’ll all get along just fine."

He pauses, then sighs. "There's literally nothing in it for them to compromise with us. They're...winning by all accounts, for all that we've done to push them back."

and I said "only ever other memory"

Maea

And I hope that you don't suffer
But take the pain

"Mmh. That's truly an awful situation to be in. With the risk of sounding callous, though, if you're right then there will come a point when we all have to choose between being safe and being free." Maea's jaw clenched, a familiar old sense of claustrophobia rearing its ugly head the more Remi went on. She hated it. That the alternative stood between bowing in defeat and accept something worse than slavery, or dying in gloroious defiance as they fought to the bitter end, was such bullshit. And while she knew what option she would choose, it just didn't sit right. She hadn't come this far just for her life to end now.

"Is there really no third option..? Nothing we can do to make sure there's ways to keep fighting even if the flowers turn out to be too few? I just can't accept that all our gods and demigods and mages and brave people combined can't put at least some small measure in place..." Even though nothing came to mind immediately, there had to be something. A haven to shelter in, a mental shield against the void, a weapon or strategy or... anything at all.

Hope if everybody runs
You choose to stay

He said "I bet you don't remember me"

Remi nods, slow and heavy, his gaze fixed on a patch of sunlit moss as Maea speaks. "That’s about what it comes down to," he murmurs. "Safety or freedom." His thumb scrapes absently across his opposite forearm, like he’s trying to brush off the weight of the choice. "And as much as it knots something in my chest, I am proud of Flora for that. She gave people a place where they are safe. Where the Family and the void can’t reach them. But..." His voice thins with something rawer—grief, maybe. "Watching her walk out of it anyway is not something I’ll ever be able to enjoy as her father."

When she suggests a third option, Remi stiffens slightly beside her, the line of his jaw sharpening as he turns his head—not sharply, but enough that she’ll feel the shift. "That’s all we’ve been doing," he says, low and steady, though there’s a new tension threaded through his voice now. It isn’t anger. Not quite. But it’s something close. Something edged with the weight of hard choices and sacrifice.

"Flowers have been quested for when they can't be found by chance. Flora’s made her city a place people can be safe." His sea-glass eyes sweep toward the still pools, though they don’t really see them. "Those who go to Starfall have shared what they’ve learned. They’ve trained. They’ve taken on quests. They’ve risked their lives to cleanse it, to protect it."

His arms fold again, tighter this time, and when he glances back to Maea, it’s not with hostility—but with something like disbelief. "What more would you have us do?"

and I said "only ever other memory"