[o] chase the sky into the ocean

Theea

one day, I'll be out of time
And I just wanna feel alive

I find the big palm tree again.

Still alive, somehow, despite the lightning strike—whenever that was. A split runs down the middle, old and jagged. There, with careful fingers, I tuck a small letter bound in twine, two feathers threaded through the knot. One golden-brown from Remi, warm and comforting. The other fiery from Ronin, full of promise and life. I let my fingers trail over them before placing a loose piece of bark over the letter, hiding it from view, weighing it down against the wind.

The breeze picks up, sharp with the season’s change, rustling through the palms above. I glance around, half-hoping to catch her watching. A wolf. A hummingbird. Her face.

There’s nothing.

I always tell myself I won’t get my hopes up again—and still, I do. Every time.

I try to shake it off and keep walking, the sand cool now as it slips between my bare toes. My father’s old jacket hangs loose around me, sleeves rolled at the wrists, hem brushing the back of my thighs. Beneath it, the pale blue dress moves like water with every gust. The first one I’ve worn since turning nineteen. It still feels strange—soft, flowing fabric instead of worn clothes or travel gear—but I’m not uncomfortable. Just aware.

I know it’s close. Somewhere. I’ll stumble across it one day, won’t I? If I keep walking the shoreline, keep scanning the trees?

I frown and kick at the sand. Walk.

And walk.

And walk—

—until the coastline blurs together and I’m sure I’ve gone too far. So I turn back.

Back to the tree.

The letter is still there, bark undisturbed, guarding it like something sacred. The wind has picked up, dark strands whipping across my face. I sweep them away, reach for my canteen and take a long drink. I stare out at the water and the way the waves whisper and pull, whisper and pull, over and over against the shore.

“For fuck’s sake,” I mutter, voice low.

look mama, i can fly

suddenly i'm spinning like a ceiling fan, around and 'round we go

She’s honestly just exploring the beach to distract her mind - to let the wind whip around her blonde curls in a sun-kissed, salt curled embrace that feels more like home than the tangle of emotions in her chest. Ones she can’t accurately express, because she’s never had the reason to before. And while she’s typically very attentive of her surroundings, the young attuned doesn’t notice the letter as its placed. She doesn’t notice the letter left behind, despite having past the tree once in her attempt to get toward the water.

But she does notice Theea standing on the coastline, drinking from a canteen, staring at the waves like they’ve somehow wronged her.

And what a mood that is.

The young attuned breaks into Theea’s line of sight, a trajectory through the sand toward the waves before she casts a warm glance over her shoulder toward the other woman, snagging a stunning teal abalone shell poking out of the sand before she turns back toward the dark haired woman. “Hey Theea! You good?” She asks, flashing her a sunny smile before she approaches curiously, thankful for this lovely distraction.

Calypso

suddenly i will never be alone

Theea

one day, I'll be out of time
And I just wanna feel alive

I fidget with the sleeves of my jacket, fingers tugging at the too-long fabric like they might help quiet the low buzz of frustration still crawling under my skin.

And then I spot her—Calypso.

I blink once, a little surprised, though I guess I shouldn’t be. Torchline’s not that big. Crowded, sure, tangled and loud and full of hidden corners, but not big.

She’s down by the waves, picking up a shell like she’s in the middle of a sun-blessed painting. Even with mist rolling in off a choppy ocean and clouds gathering overhead, she somehow manages to look perfect. Golden hair catching the breeze just right. A glimmer of teal in her hand. Definitely Safrin’s genes, I think. As much as I’ve come to like Jack—and I have, surprisingly—he's a llittle rougher around the edges.

Still, when she turns and heads my way, I smile and lift a hand in greeting. “Hey, Calypso.” It’s warm, honest. I tip my head, voice dipping back into something a little more familiar—dry and a touch wry. “Yep. All good. Just brooding dramatically at the sea like some windswept sailor’s ghost. Y’know, real casual beach-day energy.”

I pause, wincing a little. It falls flat even on my ears.

“Actually,” I admit, “I’m looking for a little house. One I used to live in. It’s tucked up somewhere along the shore—I know it’s close. Just haven’t found it yet.” I glance down, shifting my weight in the sand, then back to her with a sheepish kind of smile. “I love living with Soh, but I want something that's mine. And familiar.”

A pause, the corner of my mouth lifting into a crooked smile. “What about you? Out here collecting pretty shells to distract the rest of us from our existential spirals?”

look mama, i can fly

suddenly i'm spinning like a ceiling fan, around and 'round we go

“Oooh, my fave kind of brooding.” She chirps, flashing that equally sunny and gilded smile. Even if Theea thinks that the joke falls flat, Caly can appreciate it all the same as she brushes off some sands till clinging to the teal shell, straightening up to listen as the young woman continues. It’s a perfect distraction — action for the attuned to latch onto that allows her to not have to continue poking and prodding at the rawness she feels inside.

As for herself, she offers a little laugh as she glances back toward the waves. “I wish. Nah, just.. I guess my own kinda brooding but with an artistic flair.” She teases, lifting the shell for Theea to see, the abalone glittering in its teal, black, and dark blue hues. “You want some help lookin’ for the house? I’m good at findin’ shit.” Waggling the shell, Calypso bounces her brows playfully.

Calypso

suddenly i will never be alone

Theea

one day, I'll be out of time
And I just wanna feel alive

I grin before I can stop myself, the sound of my laugh cutting through the sea breeze. It’s quick and breathy, but real. Something in my chest lets go, just a little, the weight shifting off my shoulders like sand shaken from a towel.

I don’t know Calypso well—not really—but from what I do know, I like her. There’s something easy in her presence. Effortless. She doesn’t press too hard, and that makes me want to say more.

“That’s actually some solid treasure hunting,” I tell her, nodding at the shell. “Those abalone ones are tough to find intact. That one’s gorgeous.”

And then she offers to help, and I blink, caught off guard by the swell of relief I feel. I hadn’t realized how much I wanted someone to say that. “Yeah, that’d be cool.” I offer her another smile, softer now. “Thank you.”

I start walking, and before I know it, I’m talking again. Words spill a little faster than I mean them to.

“We lived in the house for about two years. That’s the longest we ever stayed anywhere.” I glance toward the trees as we pass, scanning for anything familiar. “It’s pale yellow, kind of soft and sun-faded, with light blue trim. My mom painted flowers on the porch railings, little stars on the shutters… birds on the banisters, I think. We built it ourselves, so everything’s a little crooked.”

I laugh again, self-conscious this time, and tuck a piece of windblown hair behind my ear.

“Sorry, I’m rambling. I do that a lot.”

A few more steps. The waves whisper on one side, the treeline rustles on the other, and I glance at her.

“Are you doing okay, by the way?” I ask, quieter now. “Things got pretty heated at the party. I didn’t want to pry, but…” I trail off, offering her the space to take it or leave it. “You seemed like you could use a breather.”

look mama, i can fly

suddenly i'm spinning like a ceiling fan, around and 'round we go

“Awe, thanks Theea.” Caly chimes, tucking the shell into a pocket so that she doesn’t lose it as she offers her help, perking up a touch with the distraction that the young woman offers when it comes to looking for this hidden house. She bounces on her heels when she steps up beside her, hands clasped behind her against the small of her back as she keeps her amber gaze peeled for anything of note.

Humming a note as she explains the house and what they’d be looking for, she turns toward Theea and flashes a sunny smile. “That sounds real cute. Crooked ’n all.” Tipping her a wink, she laughs softly, before she shakes her head immediately to the rambling. “Oh, girl, ramble away. I don’t mind.” She was a great listener, something she prided herself on. But it also meant she kept most of her thoughts to herself — or Vesper, in that regard.

The mention of her birthday party, though, she laughs before she winces a little, looking back to Theea with a small shrug of her slender shoulders. “It wasn’t like… The worst at least. I mean… We hadn’t really been together that long and I hadn’t asked much about his past or whatever, so I guess I kind of shouldn’t have been so surprised by it, but.. Gods boys are stupid.” She groans, hands unclasping to run through her salt-kissed curls, flashing Theea a rueful smile. “I’m gonna see him again, but I think I wanna take my time. See how much he misses me first.” A little bit manipulative, sure, but hey. At least then she’d have an idea of where exactly she could go from. "Aside from that, though, did ya enjoy the party without the damper?"

Calypso

suddenly i will never be alone

Theea

one day, I'll be out of time
And I just wanna feel alive

I listen as we walk, eyes scanning the treeline for that soft wash of yellow I’m half-convinced I imagined. Calypso’s voice is easy to follow—light even when it dips into something heavier. I can feel how fresh it all still is, even if she’s trying to laugh it off. Fledgling lovers, maybe, but that doesn’t mean the feelings aren’t real. I’d seen them at the party—the pull between them. The sting when it frayed.

“You know,” I murmur, lips twitching into something wry, “it’s kind of incredible how many girls I’ve talked to in the past month have said the exact same thing about boys.” I glance sideways at her, amused. “At this rate I’m thinking I should stay far, far away from boys altogether. Like, a full cautionary tale level of distance.”

A dry chuckle escapes me.

“Still... for all the drama, I actually had a really good time.” I nudge a bit of driftwood aside with my foot, eyes flicking back to the trees. “I don’t have a ton of friends. And I’m not… great at people. Like, at being around them. Or knowing what to say, or how not to be really fucking weird.” I shrug with my arms opening, hands still tucked in my jacket pockets. Self-aware but not self-pitying. “But I’m trying to learn. Second time drinking at the Hanged Man, and sometimes it feels like I'm reading one of those narrative books about nature and animal behavior in the wild."

I grin a little at the memory. “Jack made me a really good drink though. He’s always been kind to me, actually.” That still surprises me, though I don’t say it out loud. “And there was this woman—you-level beautiful, just grabbed me and looped me into your group like we’d been friends for years. And your brother was nice. It's still disorienting sometimes, to be included.”

I glance back at her and smile. “So yeah. Birthday party success. Especially since the party pooper got tossed out on his ass—metaphorically, anyway.”

look mama, i can fly

suddenly i'm spinning like a ceiling fan, around and 'round we go

She too tries to scan the surrounding area for the splash of yellow – one of her favorite colors – amongst the coastline, hidden behind trees or amongst the mixture of everything else. But, without any luck so far, it leads her to be able to listen and continue her search, letting a soft laugh leave her as she catches Theea’s gaze. “Yeah, might be the plan.” Comes the little groan, her dramatic exasperation evident in the panes of her face.

But then she’s talking about the party, about how she doesn’t haver a lot of friends and being not great with people, something that admittedly surprises her because from what Caly could tell, Theea was pretty damn good about it given the awkward situations that seemed to keep occurring. So her smile brightens, nodding as she pads through the rise and fall of the sand at their feet. “I’m glad that ya had a good time.” She hums, each word harboring honesty. “An’ for the record, I think you’re pretty good at adaptin’. Could’ve fooled me at the not bein’ great at people line.” She grins over at Theea before she looks back to try and spot the house.

“An’ not havin’ a ton of friends, well, let me know if ya ever wanna go out on the town or shop or get your nails done. I've got lots of spots.” There’s a slight bounce in her step that hadn’t been there before, as if the idea of spending more time with Theea was elating in more ways than one. It brightens her mood, distracts her from the stupidity of boys, and allows her to focus on fun. Something she feels like she’s craving lately.

Calypso

suddenly i will never be alone

Theea

one day, I'll be out of time
And I just wanna feel alive

For a second, I think I see something—just a flicker of pale yellow through the trees. My breath catches. But when I shift for a better angle, it’s nothing. Just light on bark. A scrap of driftwood caught in some brush.

I let out a slow exhale and keep walking, the sand shifting beneath our feet, a brisk breeze tugging at loose strands of hair and pulling my jacket out behind me. Calypso’s easy to walk with. I don’t feel like I have to fill the silence, which somehow makes me want to talk more.

Her compliment catches me off guard, though, and I glance over with a small, sheepish smile. “Thanks,” I murmur, though it comes out a little skeptical. “I don’t know about good at people, I grew up mostly isolated with my parents. But they made sure I knew how to survive. Adaptability’s kind of... required for that.” I flash a grin, dry and a little self-deprecating. “I just hope I’m not constantly putting people off while I fumble through it.”

When she offers to take me out sometime—to shop or get our nails done—I blink, surprised again, but this time it lands somewhere soft. Familiar. The kind of invitation I used to watch other people get and wonder what it felt like. I brighten a little and nod, earnest.

“I’ve never really done anything like that with anyone but my mom.” I glance at her, a warm smile curling at the edges of my mouth. “It’d be really nice to hang out again. For real.”

The breeze brushes my hair across my face, and I tuck it behind one ear.

“I’m actually kind of curious about you, too.” I admit, tilting my head slightly. “I grew up on stories. That was how I understood the world. And you…” I give her a sideways look, a little grin forming. “You definitely seem like someone with a story of some sort.”

look mama, i can fly

suddenly i'm spinning like a ceiling fan, around and 'round we go

Seeing Theea perk up, even in Caly’s peripheral vision has her hesitating and looking a touch sharper around just in case she can see the pale yellow house. And despite it being a false alarm, Caly’s guard doesn’t drop – she just drifts further along the beach and scans the area more, I between imagining taking Theea out to get their nails done or hair trimmed, even maybe to her favorite boutique to get a variety of different attires made.

“Nah. You haven’t. Besides, if Jack’s been kind to ya then obviously you’re doin’ somethin’ okay.” Comes the gentle tease, the flash of a sunny and warm smile toward the other young woman. She didn’t know her father well, but she knew him well enough to know he was an asshole at the best of times. Apparently it’s part of his charm. But even still, Caly idolized him for that fact, because it was just as much a part of her as her mother was.

She catches Theea’s smile when it comes to the offer of taking her out and Caly makes a mental note to randomly show up and invite her out one of these days – gods knew she could use a day of spa treatment after everything. “I usually do it with my sister but it’d be nice to switch it up here and there. ‘Sides, I think she’s been goin’ without me anyway.” A trickling laugh leaves her lips, softening against the warm sea salt breeze whipped up by the coast, vanishing into quiet that makes it easier to shift gears into things about herself.

“Mm, well, I guess we both kinda did the same thing. Stories.” Scanning the edge one more time and spotting a windblown tree half hanging on by a thread with very little yellow around it, her amber gaze flits back to Theea with a softer smile. “I grew up in the stars. I’m one of Safrin’s kids, so… We grew pretty quick up there, watched Torchline from afar to get an idea how it worked down here, then we made our big dramatic appearance.” Her fingers wiggle in front of her to sell the point, her smile brightening over at the young woman before she’s looking up toward the partly cloudy sky. “Guess I watched the stories unfold, made my own kinda thoughts on ‘em ‘til I got here and realized it was a lot harder to see what was really happenin’ when you couldn’t watch it all unfold.”

Calypso

suddenly i will never be alone

Theea

one day, I'll be out of time
And I just wanna feel alive

I snort at her comment about Jack, and the sound surprises even me with how fond it is.

“I’ve already made a mental note to stay on his good side,” I say with a crooked grin. “Which, as far as I can tell, mostly involves not being annoying and drinking whatever he gives me without complaining.”

I glance at her again, watching the way she talks about him—warm, sure, in that way you don’t fake even if he insists he’s no kind of father. It surprises me, but I don’t judge. I’ve only seen the surface of him. Just like I’m sure people have only ever seen the surface of me.

“I really do appreciate the invite, though. Especially if it’s usually your sister’s thing.” My smile softens. “It’ll be nice to go out with someone that isn’t my mom. No offense to her, we always had a good time, but… She’s my mom.”

I catch the wind tugging at Calypso’s hair as she starts talking about the stars, and for a moment, I forget to keep searching. I just… listen.

“You grew up in the stars,” I blink at her, properly dazzled. “That’s really damn cool.”

My brain skips to the stories I used to hoard, like treasures. Ronin and Vanya sailing the cosmos together, his death turned into starlight. I used to imagine what that was like—floating in the sky, watching the world like it was a bedtime story meant just for you. But I never thought about the other side of it. How it might feel kind of like what I know: watching, but never quite living. Being outside the world, instead of in it.

I glance at her again, something unspoken and kind humming between us.

“That’s… pretty relatable, actually,” I say quietly.

And then I remember the house, remember we’re supposed to be looking, and I blink, coming back to myself. I scan the trees again, slow my steps, and then laugh as it hits me. “Ah, shit. I think I’ve been going the wrong direction from the tree marker.” I turn and point back down the beach toward where we came from. “The big lightning-struck palm tree—that’s where I always started.”

I turn around, retracing our footsteps in the sand, boots kicking up little puffs of sea-washed grit. “Sorry,” I toss back to her with a rueful grin. “It’s just been a while. We left when I was like… seven? Everything’s taller now.”

The sea breeze picks up again as I keep walking, and I draw the jacket tighter around myself.

“Honestly, I’m not even sure if the house is still standing,” I admit, glancing back at her. “But I hope it is. I don’t think I have a single bad memory from it. Just… warmth. Safety. Belonging.” A pause. Then I add, with a rueful smirk, “Feels kind of rare, doesn’t it? Belonging.”

look mama, i can fly

suddenly i'm spinning like a ceiling fan, around and 'round we go

Caly’s laughter is bright when Theea lists off the things that it took to be on Jack’s good side, and it has her flashing a brilliant smile over at the young woman with a nod. “Yeah. Yet somehow everyone seems to act like it’s the hardest thing to do in the world.” Which it wasn’t. Just don’t be stupid and he might not treat you nice but it was better than half of Torchline on the regular — in her experience at least.

Nodding to the offer of taking her out, Caly’s softness blooms a touch brighter for the younger Accepted, her laughter bubbling out of her as she nods. “Yeah, no, I get it. It’s not that it’s bad it’s just.. the vibes aren’t exactly there.” Her agreement comes in tenfold, because it was similar to how she felt when people reacted so obviously to her mother being Safrin, bewilderment and more interest in that than it was herself.

Maybe it wasn’t completely relatable, but Caly does her best to try and connect what little few dots she can.

So she peers into the coastline for the yellow house as she explains how she grew up, catching Theea’s gaze with a soft little laugh and a nod. It was pretty cool. But it meant that she also didn’t experience the full thing of her childhood. Like a scraped knee in her youth, something she’d had to experience as an adult, which had been a strange experience to say the least.

Pausing in her step when her friend does, she turns back toward her with her brows lifted, trailing after where she points to with a hum of oh!

Her steps pick up as she catches up to the dark haired woman, shaking her head and waving off her apology. “Oh you’re good. It never hurts to look and know for sure, y’know?” She hums softly, turning her amber gaze into trying to spot through the breaks in the trunks of the taller trees. “Yeah. It does. Harder to find, too, seems like.” Sighing lightly, she reaches up to tuck some wild blonde strands behind her ear. “I guess I’m lucky ‘cause I do get it with my siblings, y’know, but ya can’t help but to hold onto ‘em.” The people or the places that had meant so much once upon a time.

Calypso

suddenly i will never be alone

Theea

one day, I'll be out of time
And I just wanna feel alive

I keep scanning the trees, every break in the green making my heart tick a little faster, sure I’m about to see it. The wind picks up, brushing loose strands of hair into my face, and I push them back as Caly’s voice drifts beside me.

“I always wondered what it’d be like to have siblings,” I say, still keeping my eyes forward. “I wanted a little brother or sister so badly growing up. Or two. Or three.” A small laugh escapes me. “But my parents said they wouldn’t bring any more into it.” I don’t say lonely, but it hums there, under the words. I glance at her, smile softening. “I’m glad you have that, though. Your siblings. Especially when parents aren’t very hands-on anymore.”

For a moment, the ache of it lingers—no siblings, and now no real parents in the way I had before—but before it can dig in, I push it aside.

“I’m glad I met you, Calypso,” I admit, voice lighter but no less honest. “I’m usually scared out of my wits in social situations, but… it’s been reassuring. To actually make friends.” I grin, wry but warm. “Feels less like I’m flailing when someone’s got my back.”

And then—my breath stops.

Through the trees, there’s a splash of pale yellow.

I slow for half a heartbeat, making sure I’m not imagining it. But no—”There!” I point.

It sits at the end of the sand-packed path like it’s been waiting for someone. Pale yellow, worn soft by years of salt wind, with blue trim that’s more memory than color now. Faded flowers trail up the porch beams, peeling in delicate curls where the paint has let go. The roof is a mess of palm fronds, dry and rustling, the yard overgrown. The windows—most of them—are still intact. One in the back is cracked through, and the glass glitters faintly in the slanted autumn light.

It shouldn’t be in such good shape after all this time, especially after the war. But the bones are solid, straight through. Even under the weathered paint and overgrown yard, I can see it—how it might look clean, mended, and alive again.

Something in my chest swells, sharp and sweet all at once. For a moment I’m seven again—bare feet on these steps, my mom smiling as she painted the shutters, my dad pretending not to get frustrated when the banisters didn’t line up straight. The air feels heavier and lighter all at once, and I realize my eyes are stinging.

I jog toward it. The sand gives under my feet, jacket flaring behind me as I race toward it. My heart is hammering, not from the sprint but from the sheer rightness of seeing it still standing.

I leap up the porch steps, my hands finding the railing just like they used to, gripping the wood where the flowers still bloom in faded paint. The porch lists just enough to make the step feel uneven under my boots. I can’t stop smiling. The banister is rougher now, but it’s the same. All of it’s the same.

“It’s still here,” I sigh. “And it still feels like mine.”

I spin on the porch and flare my hand out like I’m presenting a mansion. “Welcome to my new abode!” As if it’s something grand to look at. I turn to open the door—it sticks, but then cracks open, spilling pale light over dust motes.

“Want to come in?” I ask over my shoulder.

look mama, i can fly

suddenly i'm spinning like a ceiling fan, around and 'round we go

Chiming a soft little laugh, Caly glances at Theea sidelong as they continue their search, hopefully in the right direction this time. “It’s real nice most of the time. But… Y’know, there’s also times it’s a bit much.” Heaving a soft sigh, because she doesn’t want it to seem like she wasn’t grateful for them. She was, so immensely so, to have her siblings in the way that she does. “They can be real protective sometimes to the point I think I’d rather just stay in an’ take a nap.” Her laugh returns, soft and edged with a bit of nostalgia, like these are things she’d admire later on when she was older and they weren’t all wound at the hip like they were now.

But when Theea speaks next, her voice is lighter and dripping with honesty that warms the attuned’s heart. “I’m glad I met ya too, Theea.” She murmurs with an equal amount of honesty - because it was nice to have someone in your corner, especially ones that weren’t forced to be like family was.

Stilling immediately with the sudden way Theea’s breath catches, her brows lifting as she whips her head over to where she’s looking and she can also see the pale yellow splash of wood, the house still standing despite the years, harboring multitudes of memories that Caly can’t even imagine what it might be like to have.

“Yay!” She chirps for a moment, running after her friend through the sand as they approach it and she takes in all of the wind swept appearance, the dry wood, the cracked paint. The history that lingers in the home that she can’t even imagine what it ight be like. She stops abruptly behind Theea, reaching out to touch the paint on the bannister of the porch before she beams a vibrant smile over at her. “’Course I do!” She agrees, hopping up to join her on the porch to enter the dusty interior.

Stepping in once Theea lets her, Caly's smile brightens even further, taking in the interior with a swell of happiness for her friend. "I'm so happy for you. Oh! We can make lists of stuff to get ya like a lil house warmin' thing. An' I can help ya clean it if ya want?"

Calypso

suddenly i will never be alone