the sound of change

ASHE question: how do you make a monster stop feeling so monsterous? you give her something she can hold in her palms without crushing, you give her something sweet and tell her to keep it. Shit. Shit. I’d interrupted something. Of course she has other people to see, others who love her, because who couldn’t— She folds me into a tight embrace, and the breath is swept from my lungs, warmth I never thought I’d feel again encircling me, and gods when was the last time she held me? I think about it so much, too much, and my arms are automatically around her. She smells like home in a way I can’t describe. She isn’t angry. That sticks in my mind when all she says is, ”Tell me everything.” The thrum of her heartbeat is an instinctual comfort, even knowing how temporary it is. I clutch her tighter, and the tears are too hard to hold at bay. ”I’m so sorry,” is all I can manage. ”I’m sorry I left, that I wasn’t there. I should have been there.” I swallow down an outright sob. ”I fucked up.” It’s not the first time I’ve said it to her, and by the gods I wish she could just stick around to hear it again if I do. To help me figure this out. I take a deep, shuddering breath and straighten just a little, looking up at her, at every angle of her face, the matching blue of her eyes, the curve of her mouth and slope of her nose, the way her hair falls around her, everything. ”There are so many things I’ve wanted to tell you. To ask you.” you wipe the blood from her hands you say her name, over and over like an absolution. you forgive her. you forgive her. you forgive.

and I tried to remember how nice it had been

"Shhh..." Vai doesn't need the apologies, not when her daughter is safely tucked in her arms for the first time in years. All she needs is this - a moment neither of them could have expected or dreamed of having - and she won't let anything sour it, not for a second. "You were exactly where you needed to be," she corrects. "For yourself, for your own life. You know I'd never blame you for that." For being wild and untamed, for dancing on the wind and vanishing like a shadow in the firelight.

Smoothing a gentle hand through Ashe's dark hair, Vai plants a kiss against the crown of her head - and another to her forehead when she straightens up, however little it might be. "Then tell me. Ask me," she says, the words spilling out through a smiling whisper. Keeping her daughter tucked close, she takes them further beneath one of the canvas tents, where they can find a little corner to sit and talk.

"You haven't seen anyone else yet?" she guesses. "Not even the hosts...? They are going to lose it when they realise you're here."

a long long time ago

Vervain

ASHE question: how do you make a monster stop feeling so monsterous? you give her something she can hold in her palms without crushing, you give her something sweet and tell her to keep it. I don’t have to be convinced to follow her—hells, peeling myself away from her will be a feat all its own. I sit probably too close, and I keep a hand in hers, unwilling to let go. She’s lucky I’m not crawling into her lap. I blink at her mention of Remi and Ronin, quickly casting a glance their way. I’m more exposed than I’ve felt in years, nothing to hide me from the things I’ve been afraid of, the things I’ve run from. I look back at her and shake my head. “Maybe at the end of the party. I don’t want to spoil this for them.” Or.. after. Tomorrow? No time feels like a good time to bust back into their lives, like I’ve got a right to be there. I take a shuddering breath, trying to steady myself as I take her in. “Your granddaughter is here. Theea. She'll want to meet you,” I tell her, managing a smile then. “She's got all the fire and freedom and hope in her. And she looks so much like you, especially since she aged.” I glance around the party then, looking for her, but she’s nearly as good at staying out of sight as I am. “She was fourteen until she met with Frey. More like nineteen now.” I bite my lip and return my attention to Vai. I don’t even know where to start. There’s not enough time in the world for all the things I want to tell her, all the questions I’ve had over the years, learning to be a mother. If she’d been here, would I have done a better job? If I hadn’t been alone in raising her the last four years, would she have stayed? “Kalt is dead,” is the next thing I blurt, and that wound yawns open wide, threatening to swallow me whole. My eyes gutter. “Theea was only eleven, and I tried so hard to be what she needed but I wasn’t.” you wipe the blood from her hands you say her name, over and over like an absolution. you forgive her. you forgive her. you forgive.

and I tried to remember how nice it had been

There's no too close for Vai; her hand remains clasped tightly in Ashetta's, her free arm curled around her to tuck her in tight against her side. If she did decide to arrange herself into her lap, the witch would hold her there all night if that was what she wanted. And as her daughter speaks - already so quietly, sadly pessimistic - Vai can't help but give her an affectionately admonishing squeeze. "This would never, ever spoil it for them," she whispers. "You have been by yourself for far too long, sweet girl. You're being poisoned by your own loneliness."

But gods, then Ashe mentions her - a granddaughter - Theea - and Vai's blue eyes are already snapping up as if she might be able to find the girl in the crowd purely by wanting it enough, and it's with a delighted smile that she forces herself to give up the search until later. "Nineteen," she breathes. "Gods, I bet she's just like you as well. I can't wait to meet her - you'll introduce me?"

First, though, there's this. And as Ashe crumples with the explanation, Vai turns properly to hold her tight, silent for an unspoken stretch of time that needs nothing to fill the chasm of her grief. "That must have been so hard," she whispers. "For both of you - I'm so sorry."

a long long time ago

Vervain

ASHE question: how do you make a monster stop feeling so monsterous? you give her something she can hold in her palms without crushing, you give her something sweet and tell her to keep it. I do sit closer to her, a leg crossing over hers. How could I not? Her voice is such a balm—gentle and steady over a wound that had stayed raw for so long I’d stopped believing it could ever heal. I remember the moment I realized I couldn’t quite remember what her voice sounded like. How it broke something in me. That night I painted her from memory, desperate to hold on to her face if nothing else. I realize now how many details I missed. I’ll have to fix it. My brows furrow as the ache resurfaces. “Theea wrote me a letter,” I say, the words slow, careful. “And they had each sent a feather with it, inviting me here.” My hands tighten slightly in my lap. “Some part of me knows they want me back, but… I’ve just been away for so long. Changed so much. I abandoned them.” But then it’s Theea we’re talking about. And that name alone is enough to warm everything in me. To pull me gently out of my self-reproach. I nod, unable to stop the small, quiet smile that follows. “You’re going to love her,” I say, and I mean it with every part of me. And then she pulls me into a tight embrace—the kind I’d forgotten how much I needed. Condolences I never heard. Grief I never shared. And suddenly it’s there, too much to carry alone. I squeeze her back hard, breath catching as I take a shuddering inhale. “She was so strong through it,” I manage. “Stronger than she should have been.” I sniff against the rush of tears, and I rest my head against my mother’s beating heart. For a moment, I let myself pretend that she is going to stay. That this warmth, this tether to something I lost, won’t be pulled away again. I stay like that for what feels like forever—and not nearly long enough—before I finally lean back just enough to look up at her. “It hasn’t all been bad,” I tell her, needing her to know. “I was doing what I thought was best for her. Keeping her safe, out of the trials of Caido. It kept her alive while everyone seemed to be dropping like flies. And the three of us—we were happy. And we told her about everyone. About you.” you wipe the blood from her hands you say her name, over and over like an absolution. you forgive her. you forgive her. you forgive.

and I tried to remember how nice it had been

"So they invited you personally," Vai confirms with a kind smile. "Unprompted. And you are still finding reasons to think that they don't want you." Leaning in to kiss her forehead, she gives her cheek a gentle pinch as if that might help to snap her out of her spiralling. "With respect, sweetie," she whispers, "they are grown men. They've done their own fair share of changing and abandoning these past few years, so stop treating them like children and go and say hello."

Speaking of children, perhaps Ashetta can go and find their hosts once she's officially given her introduction to Theea, and Vai's smile warms again. "I have no doubt that I will," she says. "I can't wait to meet her." Squeezing her again and tilting her head to rest it atop her daughter's, they stay there, just like that, for as long as Ashe needs it. Longer still, even, because Vai needs it too.

"We've all of us been stronger than we ever should have been," she points out softly. "And in my experience, it's made us into incredible people. So I don't think you have anything to worry about, with Theea." Kissing her crown, she draws back enough to meet her daughter's gaze and smiles.

"Oh, I have no doubt. You'd never abide complete misery," she says, giving Ashe a gentle nudge. "I bet she's been told all sorts of stories about everyone. And I imagine you took her on so many adventures. I'm glad, though, that she's able to meet her extended family."

a long long time ago

Vervain

ASHE question: how do you make a monster stop feeling so monsterous? you give her something she can hold in her palms without crushing, you give her something sweet and tell her to keep it. I glance down at the feathers tied to my belt. Her voice pulls a smile to my mouth, soft and crooked at the edge. “Funny, isn’t it?” I murmur, fingers brushing one of the feathers. “The things that start sounding reasonable when no one’s around to talk you out of them.” I glance back over my shoulder again. There they are—my brothers, grown and even graying, gods help me. I spot silver threading into my own raven hair here and there. It's a strange kind of theft, the way time takes your edges first. I was nineteen the last time I saw them. Nineteen. I finally nod. “I just want them to see everyone,” I say quietly. “Unlike the rest of you, I’ll still be here. After.” After everyone returns to Mort. After the world grows quiet again. There was a time I would’ve bristled at being offered comfort, some part of me still armored in guilt and stubbornness. But now, after so many years of wanting to hear her advice more than anything… now I just listen. I let myself feel it. I let her words reach the places in me I thought had hardened too much to absorb anything but grief. Theea has become more than I ever dared hope—resilient, luminous, impossibly good, even with the bruises the world gave her. I didn't fail her completely. Not if she turned out like this. “She was determined to meet them,” I say, my smile worn soft with memory. “That one’s on me—I told her everything. Every story, every stumble. I tried to keep it honest, but…” I chuckle. “She romanticized the hell out of it.” I reach for my mom’s hand, thumb brushing over her knuckles like I did as a child. “I told her about you. How you never stopped looking for me.” That old ache tightens in my chest again, the barb of guilt catching on the ribs. But I don’t speak it aloud. Not today. There’s no time for re-lit confessions or apologies that echo what’s already been said. If motherhood has taught me anything—anything at all—it’s that I would forgive Theea a thousand times over, for anything. So what right do I have to refuse my own mother’s forgiveness? “I don’t know if you ever got the message,” I start, a grin sneaking in, “but once, when she was little, she spent two whole days drawing what she thought you looked like. We stopped at one of Mort’s shrines, and she left it there. And I heard her—” I huff a quiet laugh, shaking my head. “She was asking him to let you come scold me.” I lift a brow at her. “Apparently, I ate the last of the sugared berries after she went to bed.” “Not just for that!” comes the indignant voice from behind me. “It was because you told me Dad did it, and I bit him!” I barely have time to straighten and react before she’s in front of me and in my arms. I wrap her up tight, one hand finding the back of her head, petting gently like I used to when she was tiny and furious at the world. “He deserved it,” I mutter against her hair with a laugh. She snorts, breathless. “You came.” “Not even I would miss this,” I say, drawing back to look at her properly. Then I turn, still holding her hand, and look to my mother. “Theea,” I say, heart beating strangely in my throat, “this is your grandmother. Vai.” And after a second, with the twist of a smirk I add, “Please do not bite her.” you wipe the blood from her hands you say her name, over and over like an absolution. you forgive her. you forgive her. you forgive.

Theea

and suddenly you're ripped into being alive

I watch her straighten up, and for a split second, there's this flicker of pride—she didn’t sense me coming. I caught her off guard. But then she turns, and the second her eyes find mine, it all hits me at once. The nearness of her. The weight of it. I don’t remember moving, but suddenly I’m hugging her, arms tight around her as if I could just hold her forever and never let go.

She holds me back just as tightly.

She’s smaller than I remember. I don’t know if that’s time or loneliness or just me having grown. But gods, she’s still her. She still smells the same—smoke and something herbal and warm—and her voice, when she says my name, wraps around my ribs like a memory I didn’t know I’d lost. It feels like no time has passed at all. And also like everything’s changed.

When she steps aside and gestures, my brain doesn’t catch up right away. Then I see her.

Oh gods. Vai.

My eyes go wide, and my heart punches into my throat. “Right. No biting. Hi,” I manage, and my grin just happens, crooked and way too wide and probably mildly unhinged.

Mom catches my hand, murmurs now is when you want to be shy?, and tugs me forward like I’m five years old again and hiding behind her legs. I go. Of course I go. My legs feel like they’ve stopped working properly but I take the steps anyway.

I look at the woman I’ve heard stories about my whole life. I want to say something clever, something meaningful. Instead—

“You’re… really beautiful,” I blurt, and yep, that sounded exactly as dumb as I feared.

and life is pain, and life is suffering, and life is horror,
but my god, you're alive and it's spectacular

and I tried to remember how nice it had been

"It's their party - I'm sure they'll see everyone whether or not you barge in and say hi," Vai quips with a gentle raise of her eyebrows, though her smile tilts towards something understanding. "You're right, though. You will still be here after." Somehow it sounds both like a statement and a threat, a silent don't you dare disappear right away after this in her tone. As for Theea, Ashe's stories and the inevitable romanticisation of the people that had filled her daughter's life, Vai shrugs her shoulders. "Tales are more interesting with embellishments," she trills - and as a storyteller, she would know, right?

And it's refreshing to be the one listening for once, as Ashe delves into Theea's invocations of witch-based vengeance, Vai's laughter like the musical peal of a bell. "I see a lot up there, but I can't confess that I was witness to any biting--" she begins, before realising that another voice has come to join in with the story.

As her eyes land upon Theea, gods but Ashe is right - it's like looking into a mirror of youth. Some changes here and there, naturally, because Theea is not only her mother's daughter, but her father's too, and yet the resemblance is still uncanny. "Hi," she says with a small smile, releasing Ashe so she might take her granddaughter in properly. "You stole my line," she adds with a chuckle, "you're really beautiful. It's good to meet you, Theea. You have no idea how good."

a long long time ago

Vervain

ASHE question: how do you make a monster stop feeling so monsterous? you give her something she can hold in her palms without crushing, you give her something sweet and tell her to keep it. I don’t mean to cry. But the moment I see her—really see her—with her arms around Theea, I know I don’t stand a chance. My mother and my daughter, folded into each other like two parts of my soul that had been torn apart and finally, finally stitched together. Gods, I never thought I’d live to see this. Tears slip before I can stop them. I swipe them away with the heel of my hand, but I’m still smiling. Wide. Full. My heart is overflowing, and somehow it feels like it can hold all of this—grief and joy in equal measure, not battling, just… coexisting. I ache, yes. I ache down to the marrow. Kalt should be here. He should be here with his stupid sarcastic comments and his overwhelming pride and his reverent, steady love. He should be standing beside me with his hand at the small of my back, watching our family become whole again, even if it’s only for tonight. But even as I ache, it doesn’t feel like a wound anymore. It feels like something sacred. Like carrying a locket you never open, not because it hurts—but because you know what’s inside. I miss him so badly it’s a burn in my throat, but for the first time in years, the pain isn't sharp. It’s warm. Heavy. Real. He’s still with me. With us. I don’t know how I know, but I know. I feel him like a shadow behind the flame, like a heartbeat under the skin. And one day—gods willing—I’ll see him again. Maybe not like this. Not in laughter and firelight and hugs. But seeing my mother, feeling her whole and alive even just for a night—it tells me he’s waiting. I believe that now. I feel it in my chest like a tide turning. So I step forward, still sniffling, and I wrap them both in my arms. My mother. My daughter. The roots and bloom of me. “I’ll be right back,” I murmur, voice thick but steady. I press a kiss into Theea’s temple and then Vai’s cheek, as if that might somehow imprint this moment onto my skin. And then I step away—not far, just enough to breathe, to steady myself before I come apart entirely. Gathering myself before I go and see my brothers. you wipe the blood from her hands you say her name, over and over like an absolution. you forgive her. you forgive her. you forgive.

Theea

and suddenly you're ripped into being alive

The moment her arms wrap around me, I hug her back just as tight—maybe tighter. My breath catches in my throat, and I can’t stop grinning, wide and ridiculous and maybe a little teary too, but I don’t care.

“It’s so—so good to meet you,” I say, all in a rush, like if I don’t say it fast enough the feeling might burst out of my chest anyway.

And then Mom kisses the side of my head, and gods, I could float. My face is gonna split from smiling, it actually hurts, but I don’t stop.

Until—

Wait.

She’s leaving me. Alone. With Vai.

My stomach does a thing. Not a bad thing, just a… moment-of-panic thing. Like when you think there’s one more stair and there isn’t, and suddenly your soul is outside your body for a hot second.

I met Ronin and Remi, sure, and I somehow survived that without imploding, but now it’s just me and her and this moment and my brain is already sprinting in six directions.

Still, I square my shoulders. I can do this. I am doing this. I’m nineteen and winging it and standing in front of one of my heroes and I don’t spontaneously combust. That’s something..

I glance up at her, still a little breathless. “Um—what… should I call you?” I ask, and then my mouth keeps going because it always does. “I’ve been so excited to meet you ever since Remi told me you were coming. Like, actually buzzing.”

and life is pain, and life is suffering, and life is horror,
but my god, you're alive and it's spectacular

and I tried to remember how nice it had been

"Take as long as you need, sweet girl," Vai whispers to Ashetta, leaning in to kiss her temple as she hugs them both, before she's retreating and the witch gets a chance to fully take in her granddaughter in her arms. "Not as good as it is to see you, I promise," she says through a peal of laughter, reaching out to tuck Theea's hair back behind her ear, her fingers softly brushing the curve of her jaw as if to memorise her every feature.

Keeping one arm around her, Vai guides them back a few feet to where they can sit and talk properly. It helps, too, that there's a table of food and drink nearby, in case Theea needs something to do with her hands. "Well," she says warmly, grinning and nodding out at the crowd to where, if they look just right, they can catch glimpses of Flora, Enzo and Mateo respectively. "They all call me nonna. It means grandmother in a very old tongue, and you are more than welcome to use it as well."

Trying to find Remi in the throngs of partygoers as well, Vai scoffs and shakes her head. "Well he never told me you were going to be here, which I find quite rude. But gods... it's amazing to know you, Theea. Tell me about you - are you staying in Torchline? Have you gotten yourself into any trouble yet?" She grins.

a long long time ago

Vervain

Theea

and suddenly you're ripped into being alive

Gods, her laugh is so pretty. She is so pretty. I've never doubted my looks, really, my mom is beautiful too, my dad—I’ve got good genes. But somehow Vai seems otherworldly. Maybe it’s Mort’s realm on her, or could just be that I’m absolutely dazzled at meeting a witch like her, my grandmother, my—

”Nonna,” I repeat, my eyes shining, and I nod. Perfect. That’s perfect.

I do reach for a drink, something fizzy with a little bit of a sting as it goes down. I hold it in my lap, glancing back at my mother as she stands nearby, wiping her tears. Then I turn to Vai, and my smile lights up.

”Yeah, I’m staying! Torchline is great. Remi and Ronin are here. And Flora!” I take a quick drink. ”She’s the first one I met. I’ve hardly seen her since I got here though—but she’s the queen and all, she’s busy.”

As for trouble, I shake my head, and then wince a bit. ”And yeah, mostly. I did have a run in with some void luxere, but Deimos was there. I held my own well enough that he said I could join the monster hunters.” I thumb the hole in my jacket at the arm—I haven’t mended it just yet. ”I got got, but his unicorn healed me. And then there was the beach party with the Family, that went south, but… Ronin sent me off.” I shrug a little. ”Probably for the best though. A little out of my league.”

I twist my glass in my hand. I’d known in the moment he was likely sending me away, but looking back, no one had needed the spring water in the end, but I’d tried right?

”I’m really trying to live up to all these family legacies,” I say on a laugh, waving it off as light even as it constricts around my throat.

and life is pain, and life is suffering, and life is horror,
but my god, you're alive and it's spectacular

and I tried to remember how nice it had been

"Nonna," Vai repeats in agreement, her eyes stinging a little at the corners as she nods and also reaches for something to drink, though she opts for a glass of sweet, chilled wine to nurse in her hands instead. "Torchline definitely has its merits," she agrees with another nod, sitting to properly face the party and the torches and the stretches of sand. "I used to live here as well, for a time. There's nowhere quite like it. In the end, though," she admits, lowering her voice like it's a secret between them, "I've always belonged in the woods. And that's okay too, if you find yourself drawn elsewhere."

Sipping at her wine as Theea continues, Vai raises her eyebrows, impressed, to hear at her encounter with the void luxere and Deimos's offer. "That will definitely keep you in trouble," she says through a chuckle, "but it's rewarding. I might be a witch more than anything now, but I started as a hunter and a tracker. Those are skills you can pick up in a place like the monster hunters guild."

As for Ronin, she scrunches her nose affectionately and gives Theea a gentle nudge. "Don't think too much on it," she tells her with warmth in her voice. "He's got the title of White Knight, and he's lost enough family to be overprotective with what he's got left. Him sending you off was more about him than you."

At her laughter, more telling than her words, Vai scoots closer and wraps an arm around her shoulders. "Fuck their legacies, sweetheart," she tells her with a fiendish smiles. "I mean that. Fuck 'em. Make your own - don't ever walk in the shadow of those who came before you. Just because they're impressive, doesn't mean you aren't. Only thing you need to live up to is your own goals."

a long long time ago

Vervain