[o] There's no plan

// somebody told me that there's two sides to this life //

Ruby. Garnet. Jasper. Sunstone, agate, carnelian. Beryl, zircon, and that must be diamond. Crystal, glass, gemstone and something in between – there was no end to the formations clustering along the walls, dripping from the ceiling, growing like fractal trees from the ground in formations so delicate a single touch might break them. In the shimmering heat her single point of fire almost felt cool, a mere indulgence in order to better see the wonders spread out around her. Even her reflection was dyed red in the myriad facets, a million wan faces staring back at her with hollow eyes, asking questions without answers. 

Pausing before a particularly large prism - taller than herself, its facet polished like a mirror - Maea regarded the reflection without knowing what to feel. The black dress still looked odd, to her own eyes. It seemed too fine a thing for that skinny girl, with her lank hair and hungry mouth. Strange like the horns, so large as to be obscene,  and strange like that tail that moved with a life of its own. Swiping her tongue over the teeth, she pulled her lips back in a snarl and immediately grimaced at the effect; they were less strange, Maea had spent almost as many years with fangs as without them at this point, but the combined effect was... sharp. Harsh. Something odd and fey and different. It almost made her wish it was worse. Dragging on the tip of an ear,  she tried to imagine herself with the ears and wings of the fae, with scaly hide and spines jutting from the spine. Maybe that would ease this feeling that coiled through her gut. Like she'd come too far from who she'd once been, yet not far enough to forget that girl. The dress was for someone older and more cunning, the kind of person who could smile without meaning it and use words to get her will through when power was no longer an option. 
"It was a good thought," she told the reflection, "but it didn't quite work out the way we hoped." As it turns out, one couldn't simply change their nature by changing clothes. "The question is, what do we do now?" 

Sinking down onto the sticky floor, Maea drew her knees up against her chest and kept staring at her reflection. Maybe if she looked long enough she would see something she hadn't noticed before. Find something worth building on, something to love and cherish and be just a little bit proud of. The fire flickering over her shoulder was one thing; finding the spark of magic had saved her from despair once. The crow had saved her a second time. What else..? There had to be something else...

Maea

// I think I might've chosen darkness over light //

It was not often that the Tidebreaker became lost, but the confines of the Burrows were one such place. He walked by the faint starlight of his trident and the dark scales of his hippocampus form that lay across his shoulders and curved over his brow and cheekbones, the cosmic mirror with its distant suns and ancient nebulae that moved within them shedding only a ghost of galactic radiance by which to see. He had a lantern if he needed it, but for the moment it hung from his belt, unlit as his bare feet tread silently through the hot darkness beneath the Climb.

It was an accident that brought him to the glittering vault of Soulfire Reach. Or perhaps it was fate. His steps slowed as the reflection of a thousand stars caught facets beyond counting and scattered into the cavern. The scent of blood was thick, but he had come from contemplating the Mountain's Roar and it was not entirely strange to senses so recently inundated in the thick, coppery aroma of the waterfall.

But it was the glow of a single small flame that had caught his attention and drew him onward across the sticky floor. There in the red shadows huddled a form he knew well and he stopped again to study the fall of pale hair over black silk and armor.

"Maea." He spoke softly in the space that was so clearly not made for one such as he, but his deep voice echoed in sonorous whispers throughout the crystal-studded cave. "What is wrong?"

// somebody told me that there's two sides to this life //

Unlike Frey's Breath where the foot traffic was higher than anywhere else in the Climb, this was not the sort of place where she expected company. It should have alarmed her far more to hear footsteps spread their faint echo, steadily approaching, yet there was nothing threatening about their cadence. When Hadama's voice broke the silence she looked up, tilting her head back over a shoulder to catch a glimpse of him. It was an impressive sight, as always. Mantled in the symbols of his goddess he stood out here, like a knight of the moon gone astray into a nightmare. The irony was that this was holy ground too – only, sanctified by a different goddess entirely.

"Hey," she responded softly, hushed so as to avoid an echo. "Nothing is wrong. Just having a low day." Turning back to the reflection of herself, Maea gestured to it with the flick of a pale finger. "I'm looking for good things. Want to join me?" There was room for two, even if he would prefer to remain standing. She wrapped her tail around the legs so it wouldn't be stepped on, and returned her gaze to the image of the stranger in the ruby mirror.

Maea

// I think I might've chosen darkness over light //

He nodded in silent acceptance of her correction and then turned his attention to her reflection as she explained her purpose. Studying it in the combined light of stars and flame, he nodded slowly and settled himself upon the floor beside her with solemn grace. He took no pleasure in looming over his friends, and the sea water he would inevitably return to would wash away the blood in time.

He sat cross-legged, leaning his trident against the wall beside them so that his hands were free to rest upon his knees. His back was straight but he looked more comfortable than if he had been slouching, and he joined his friend in contemplation of their now-shared reflections in the crystals that glittered before them.

He let the silence sit with them awhile, warm and comfortable before he broke it again in his softest voice, a gentle curiosity inviting Maea to speak her mind. "What good things do you see in these crystals?"

// somebody told me that there's two sides to this life //

He loomed over her even while seated, but it was nice that they fit into the same frame together. Hadama was a warm presence by her side, his calm a rock to buoy her through the worst of storms. Today was more of a dreary gray, like endless rain and a return of winter's chill even though the world ought to be green and vibrant. He was all the more welcome for it, because it was a rare thing she could offer him, this glimpse into her inner workings. Not entrusted to many people at all, these days.

"I see this," she replied, raising a finger to stroke the wispy flame, heedless of the heat. "I love magic. I'm very grateful that I have it." Manipulating the fire, it took the shape of a bird and flitted across the mirror. "The wings are a good thing. Flying... it's like inhaling after holding your breath for too long. I don't have to stay anywhere, there's no cage that can hold me."

Tilting her head aside, her pale eyes traveled to his reflection, and with a quirk of her mouth she tapped on his nose, or rather the mirrored version of it. "That stranger there is also a good thing. Keeps me honest. Reminds me of what's important." Leaning ever so slightly aside until her shoulder connected with his arm, Maea sought out his emerald gaze. "What do you see?"

Maea

// I think I might've chosen darkness over light //

It was nice to sit with a friend and simply be for awhile. With all that he had taken upon himself, it was the moments like these that were the balm and renewal that kept him standing tall and give him the strength to continue. He listened to the revelations that Maea had found within the reflective stones, a small smile softening his expression as she shared the precious pieces of herself with him. And when she leaned into his shoulder he gave a little pressure back, his smile flicking up a little wider for a moment as his 'nose' was tapped.

"Mmn. I see no strangers here. Only friends." His low rumble was as warm as the Burrows themselves as he allowed himself to relax. He stretched out his other hand, an unhurried gesture, to indicate some of the stars that glittered in reflection from his trident. "I see the power I have dedicated myself to. My strength. Enough, now, that I can protect what is important to me." Strength he had only begun to explore the limits of when he had first taken his crown on the eve of War. When he had been too weak to face even the Kingmaker upon Torchline's shores. It seemed half a lifetime ago, now.

And then he tilted his head to the side, his smile growing softer. "And I see her." He let his fingertips brush over the reflection of Maea's forehead before his hand returned to rest upon his knee. "A woman I admire greatly. Who I trust to have my back. Who is stronger than she knows. And who I should confide in more often than I do." He pulled away from her shoulder then, but only so that he could offer the woman gazing back at him from crystal a bow before he straightened and returned to his previous position, his arm pressed against her shoulder.

// somebody told me that there's two sides to this life //

Color rose into her cheeks at the praise, and she shifted where she sat. The impulse to brush it off was strong, but she resisted; if that's what he saw, then it was his vision. Not necessarily how she saw herself... and Maea did look again. Searched for a long time for that strength he spoke of. In the end she shook her head just a fraction, smiling gently at their reflections.

"No, no should. We both know I haven't been receptive for a long time. And you have responsibilities I can hardly fathom... I never hold it against you if you can't or won't talk about things with me." Even if it hurt sometimes, it was only because of her own lacking, the realisation that she was leagues behind her friend - that even if he trusted her with his back, she might never be equal to the task of defending it.

That said, she would be honored every time he did choose to share something with her. And she found it a bit easier for each time to tell Hadama things that were on her mind. 

"I made a new friend, during my time in the Greatwood. Liam - he's a former dragoon. We almost talked ourselves into trying to revive the region, maybe even become leaders... but Flora talked me out of it again almost as quickly. Given my lack of diplomatic connections, and the Family... and by virtue of being a limp noodle if it comes to a real fight... And I can't bear the thought that I put a whole region at risk just because I want something to care about. Beyond myself." She rolled her eyes at her own image, recognising the deeply selfish tendencies in the pale little figure. "Sometimes I really wonder if I'm good for anything other than books and smalltime scrapping with creatures. I want more out of life – but..."

Shrugging helplessly, her upended hands remained empty. Perhaps it was her fate, to read and write about the adventures of others, and at best remain a footnote in the margin. No one would ever remember the people who brought the roses, though; there were no songs for gardeners and vagabonds.

Maea

// I think I might've chosen darkness over light //

He tilted his head in partial acknowledgment of her correction, and in appreciation of her graciousness. Still, he met her reflected eyes when his head rose again and there was no pride in his gaze. "Mmh. Thank you. But sometimes it is not responsibility to others that stops me." He shifted his gaze so that he met his own regard, facing himself in silent judgment. "The last time, when we met with Thalassa in the Greatwood, it was fear." He fell silent then and turned his attention back to Maea in quiet contemplation, and soon enough she filled the comfortable silence with words of her own, secrets of her own heart shared in the soft glow of fire and starlight.

He listened, taking in the name of this dragoon, the proposed partnership not unlike what he shared with Flora... and then his co-ruler's name. And some of what Maea had spoken of in the recent past clicked into place with a soft sigh of understanding from the Tidebreaker as he waited for his friend to trail off with the worries that harried her heart.

"Mmh. Perhaps there is something to what she told you. But... I had nowhere near your current strength when I took the crown of the Merfolk." He tilted his head at their reflections, before turning to look at Maea directly, studying her face in profile. "Neither did Flora when she came to me to demand I make her my co-ruler." He had forgiven her that, though it had taken time for him to see how earnest she was and how responsible she could be. "There is more to ruling than brute strength." He flexed his hands slowly, looking down to consider the calluses upon his fingers and palms. "It helps. But it is not necessary." And then he looked back up and the softness in his eyes was not without its own strength of a different kind.

"Doubt yourself. Question the decisions you have made. But take responsibility for them." He pulled away from her so that he could free his arm, lifting his hand to rest it on her shoulder - stronger indeed than she realized - and squeezed it gently. "And if you are not yet ready to take up the crown now, it does not mean you will never be."

// somebody told me that there's two sides to this life //

It seemed a contradiction, to question herself yet trust herself and also take responsibility for her choices. Her brow wrinkled in confusion, wrestling with the concepts until Hadama's hand settled on her shoulder - a warm weight of reassurance that made it seem alright to not understand right away. And perhaps that was why she didn't feel ready, why she let herself be talked out of her plans, why the grace of 'maybe later' felt like such a relief.
"I think I need to work on myself first," she confessed, pressing her cheek against his hand in a rare show of affection before lifting it again to strare down her reflection. "If I can't even accept who I am, how could I possibly accept the myriad others who I'd be responsible for?" As her tail slithered past, Maea caught it in her hands, fingers restlessly digging into the extremity, like she could force herself to get used to it that way. Some days it was like she'd never been anything but Ancient, while days like today she felt like a fraud, wearing the horns and the tail but being nothing at all like one on the inside.

"What's on your mind, lately?" she asked her friend, when no answers appeared no matter how she glared at herself. She wanted to know his mind, his concerns, what silenced him in fear and what kept him going despite it. Because she cared. And because maybe the answer to her worries lay not within herself, but in the people around her.

Maea

// I think I might've chosen darkness over light //

Life and people were often filled with contradictions, and in Hadama's experience rulership was no different. The test lay in learning to balance the contradictions to find a path that one could live with, and that allowed him to sleep at night. Confidence, but not overconfidence. The strength to stand by decisions once made and not waver in the face of disapproval, but the willingness to reconsider them under new information. The humility to admit when he was wrong, and the strength to take steps to mitigate any damage that came of it, while staying sure enough in himself and his intentions to not give up in the face of such setbacks.

When Maea tilted her hand against his hand his gaze softened and he nodded in acceptance of her decision even before she explained it to him. He let his hand remain a little longer, offering his support in silence while she worked through what she needed and finally releasing her shoulder with a gentle squeeze of understanding. As she caught her tail in her hands he returned to his previous pose of relaxed dignity, gaze returning to the crystals and content to sit in comfortable silence until a question came his way and he drew in a slow breath.

"Mmh. I have been to Starfall," he said slowly. "With Deimos and Sunjata. We planted a second flower. One in the first level of its depths." He hesitated then, considering his reflection with grim solemnity. "It was... a difficult battle. And though we succeeded in our task, we did not defeat the guardian of the tunnels. In the end it was the flower that chased it to a lower section of the island." He flexed his right hand closed into a fist, slowly and deliberately, and then forced it to relax once more. "It remains. Recovering. And the next battle will be more difficult because of it." He turned his head to meet Maea's reflected gaze with tension in the line of his jaw and shoulders. "But I will not ask others to face what we could not finish. So I will be returning there soon. To end the fight that we began a few weeks ago." And there was a quiet rivulet of fear in his gaze, recognizing the danger of that next undertaking now multiplied by the Wyrm that got away to brood and seek revenge at the next incursion to the Void's stronghold.

// somebody told me that there's two sides to this life //

And just like that, all her worries were as nothing. Like stepping out atop the peak of a mountain and seeing the sheer scale of the world spread out beneath your feet, and realising just how small you were. Not insignificant, because if her therapist was right then everyone had their own value, but more like a luxury problem afforded one with too much time on her hands. There wouldn't be any room for self reflection where Hadama was going, no time for anything but raw, grim, ugly survival. No matter the cost.

A sudden chill of dread at the thought  that he might not come back caused a shudder to ripple down her spine. She banished it right away, refusing to entertain that kind of negativity, but it was hard when she saw emotions reflected in his gaze. Rare, and vulnerable like she rarely saw him.

"Can I do anything?" she wondered, thinking about roses, about the awful wait in the days to come, what other burdens he must be bearing in the meantime – things she might be able to do that had nothing to do with the island itself or the horrors that dwelled there, but might help him all the same. "If you want to talk about it... or I can try and distract. Whichever you prefer."

Extending her hand towards him, palm open if he wanted something real to hold on to, it was to the man beside her that she turned this time, reflections forgotten when the real person was suffering.

Maea

// I think I might've chosen darkness over light //

There was no hesitation as he reached back to enfold her small, calloused hand in his own, squeezing her fingers with gratitude for both the offer and the physical connection. He turned his head only afterwards, meeting her gaze properly with his own solemn weariness as he tilted his head in acknowledgment of the choice she gave him. But first he gave thought to her initial offer, considering what lay ahead of him, and what help he would need.

"I will have tasks in the days ahead. Quests from Safrin, to make myself stronger. And to strengthen my magic. I do not know if I will be able to complete them before we go..." He hesitated, and then shook his head. "I will go, regardless. But I could use a training partner for my Gravity Spike, if you are willing?" A dangerous request, and one he only made because of his trust in Maea's own strength and resilience. "There will be hunts as well, to clear the Void from areas not yet protected from it." The Wilds, mostly, though soon enough an invitation would arrive to meet him in King's End.

And then he looked down at their hands, emerald gaze resting on their fingers but seeing something distant. Violet instead of red. Shadows that slithered and gas that rose to choke and blind. A foe that attacked from distance and hiding, battering them relentlessly while remaining out of reach. Blue eyes narrowed in paranoia and suspicion. A panic he had not felt in years burrowing deep inside his chest.

He sighed.

"I nearly lost Flora to the Family," he admitted quietly, his voice a low rumble whispering back at them from the crystals embedded in the cavern's walls. "Again. She was... infected. And counting on me to save her. I was... very close to failing." No easy admission as he dragged his thoughts from Starfall's shores to the cleansing steam of Frey's Breath. He breathed deeply, steeling himself for what came next, but his voice remained steady, even as the words were dropped slowly, one by one, like stones into a still pond. "I lost my brother to sickness when he was younger than she is now. A sea shrine's curse, before the Heralds were freed. I watched him waste away to nothing. But..." A hesitation, a catch in his breath as he bowed his head further, shoulders rounding beneath the weight of memory and regret. "At the end, I fled. I could not be with him in his final moments. I was not strong enough to see him off to Mort's Halls. And so I abandoned him. Flora's... state... has brought back difficult memories of that time." At a time when he needed to be at his strongest, unhindered by old wounds, long-since scarred over but not forgotten.

// somebody told me that there's two sides to this life //

His hand was warm. Large enough to envelop hers almost entirely, it was hard to say who found more comfort in the connection. A faint sigh escaped the cage of her lips, expelling tension from her petite frame and a good deal of darkness from her thoughts alongside it. Perhaps it was a sign of what she needed more of, in her life; but for once Maea didn't dwell on her own state, entirely focused on what she might do for her friend as she was.
"I'd be happy to train with you, as many times as you need," she replied, immediate and without reservations. "Same for culling the Void. Just tell me when and where, and I'll be there." All the fire and all the bloody power in her veins was at his disposal; it might not be the only thing she wanted in life, but she was confident enough in her abilities to at least take on the small fry and the skirmishes. Grateful for every burden she could lift off his shoulders.

A pale thumb absently rubbed the side of his hand as further shadows uncoiled off the king's mind, like a veil coming undone. Possibly she was a bit surprised to learn that he too was haunted by the past, and Flora being infected caused her breath to catch, shock and a surprising amount of concern for the young woman stilling her tongue for a while.
"Mmh, but... you did not, in fact, fail," she murmured eventually, "right? Knowing you - and I think I do - you did everything in your power to help her. Even if you had failed, what more can any of us do but our best? Sometimes it won't be enough. Sometimes it will make everything worse. But sometimes it's just enough to accomplish what needs to be done." Casting a glance to her reflection mirrored in the crystal, she thought back to her own catastrophic attempt to help Asta. The outcome might haunt her to the end of days, but she also didn't feel as terrible as she could have. Her intentions had been good, though poorly executed, and now there was an option - an opportunity, even - for her to learn something from the incident.
"We can't change the past... Gods know we'd both make different choices if we could. But we can learn, and change, and make sure that we don't repeat the same mistakes twice." 

Something told her that Hadama wouldn't abandon another person again, no matter what. She couldn't speak for his brother, because she didn't know him or their relationship, but knowing Mort's Halls as she did it felt unlikely that his specter held many grudges.

"Did you know that Remi still can speak with the dead?" She squeezed his hand gently. "Perhaps he would be able to help you find some closure, if you'd like." Whether through a message or a meeting, if it helped him set his doubts aside... perhaps it was worth taking the time.

Maea

// I think I might've chosen darkness over light //

He squeezed her hand gratefully at her swift willingness to help him however he needed, no questions asked beyond 'when' and 'where.' She had been gone so long and so suddenly, thought dead or lost, that he had been uncertain whether the shape of their previous bond still remained. And in truth, it had not. But what had grown from it was stronger and deeper for the honesty now between them, and how easy it had become to rely on each other. "Thank you," he murmured, and in those two words was the promise that he would rely on her, trusting her as she trusted him.

Was it strange, to hear his own words given voice by another? He sat quietly beside her, his large hand held in hers as he drew comfort from what she told him, and from their physical connection in hands and shoulders. It was nothing he had not told himself in the dark hours of the night, but it did make a difference, hearing it from another.

"I did not fail," he confirmed slowly. Torchline's Queen was herself once more, fire and flash and stubbornness, beholden to no one but her own heart. "And I..." He trailed off, brow creasing in thought at the suggestion of speaking to Remi. "... Perhaps. I have been meaning to speak to Remi for some time. My brother is not the only ghost I would seek forgiveness from." He sighed, pensive as he sank into his thoughts for a short time. When he raised his head again, however, his eyes were clearer and there was a little less weariness in them.

"Thank you, Maea. These were words that I needed to hear."