to put my arms in fragile hands

Sohalia

Not sure what tomorrow brings
Not sure why a caged bird sings

The Northaven was not at all what Sohalia had pictured when she'd imagined a houseboat, but she was almost glad to be surprised. It was indeed like a little house sitting upon the bottom portion of a ship, complete with a small patio, deck, and lookout perch. She didn't see a sail or a motor or anything else that might indicate how the houseboat moved, but that, she supposed, was neither here nor there. This was Caido, and for all she knew, the little ship could be magic.

Hoisting a bag upon her shoulder, Sohalia made her way up to the houseboat and rapped neatly on the door. While she waited, she looked around, admiring the myriad plants that had taken over almost every surface. It reminded her of Mateo - speaking of, she hadn't spoken to him in a while. Perhaps she should send him a letter, see how he was doing...

But that was not the reason for her visit to see Remi. 

She wasn't sure what to expect from this visit, really, except for maybe some closure. While she knew it was possible for Mort to return a companion from the dead, she wasn't sure if that was the right thing for her to do. What if Tarak was happier in Mort's halls? Would it be right to yank him back into reality? Perhaps it was these questions that Soh hoped Remi could help her with. Or that she could even see Tarak, one last time, to give him a proper goodbye and an apology. Something. Anything.

Don't ask cause I don't know
No idea just where to go

REMI

the bastion

What good are hands
if there's nothing that they hold

The door opens with a soft creak, and standing in its frame is a man with damp curls pressed back from his forehead and a loose shirt wrinkled from where he’s clearly been lying on something recently. Oria, a mossy blur with wings and attitude, peeks out from those curls like a suspicious sprig of thyme with eyes. Remi, for all his quiet renown, looks exactly like someone who’s just stepped away from a nap and isn’t terribly bothered by it.

"Sohalia," he says, with a voice warm and lightly accented, the soft edges of the travelling tongue giving her name a lilting rhythm. "It’s good to finally meet you." His smile is gentle, genuine, and shaded with a kind of understanding that doesn’t press too hard, as if it knows better than to crowd grief.

Stepping aside, he opens the door wider. "Come in." The interior of the Northaven is cosy in that lived-in way, light filtering in through trailing vines and hanging moss, herbs drying from one of the ceiling beams. A couch that’s clearly been used for brooding (or napping) is tucked in beside a low table, and the faint scent of sea salt and something spiced lingers in the air.

"Can I get you anything?" he offers as he shuts the door behind her. "Water, tea, coffee? Or something stronger, if you’d rather it." A subtle twitch of humour softens his expression, though the sincerity doesn’t waver. He’s used to starting these things gently. that's what he said

And what good are hearts
if you bury them all alone?

Code blatently stolen from queen of codes, Sky!

Sohalia

Not sure what tomorrow brings
Not sure why a caged bird sings

The door creaked open, and Sohalia took in the slightly rumpled appearance of Mort's demigod. He was not at all what she'd expected, having seen him only in passing at this gathering or that. A little sprig of something that looked a bit like an herb poked out from beneath damp curls, and it took Soh a moment to realize that it was alive - and looking at her very suspiciously, drawing a small smile to the young woman's face. "The pleasure is mine," she replied. "It seems mad that we haven't met properly before now." Either in her time as a leader, or in her time as Flora's best friend.

She stepped into the little houseboat with a word of thanks. The interior was cozy and bright, warm in a lived-in way that put Sohalia immediately at ease. The plants that seemed to have overtaken the outside of the ship had managed to find a hold in here as well, either as living things or as drying herbs hanging from the ceiling. Soh ducked under one such bundle as she moved out of Remi's way to allow him to lead the way to wherever they were going.

"Just water, please," she replied. Then, as though remembering something. "Oh! I did bring some wine for you -" And so she dug around in her bag to produce the bottle. "- I didn't know what you liked, so I just brought one of my favorites. As a thank you."

Don't ask cause I don't know
No idea just where to go

REMI

the bastion

What good are hands
if there's nothing that they hold

Remi huffs a warm laugh as he pads toward the small kitchenette, the soft creak of floorboards answering beneath his bare feet. "I’ve become a bit of a hermit the past few years," he admits, pulling a glass down from a shelf. "So that’s on me. I tend to let Ronin do most of the socializing on our behalf." His voice carries easily through the space, not loud but steady, as if pitched to gently fill any quiet with something grounding.

As Sohalia produces the bottle of wine, Remi glances back over his shoulder, curls shifting slightly as Oria readjusts atop his head like a watchful sprig of oregano. "That’s very kind of you," he says, a little surprised and visibly touched. "You didn’t need to, but thank you. It certainly won't go to waste."

Water in hand, he crosses back and offers it to her with a small nod before sinking down onto the couch. He leaves space beside him, but also gestures toward the nearby chairs, his posture loose and unhurried. "Please, sit wherever you like." His expression softens as he glances toward her again, this time with a flicker of something older behind his eyes. "I imagine you’re eager to begin." Folding his hands loosely in his lap, he continues with quiet certainty. "Once I open the door, Tarak will come through. You can take as long as you like with him. There’s no rush, and no pressure. Just you, and whatever you need to say, for however long." His gaze meets hers with gentle steadiness. "Are you ready?"

And what good are hearts
if you bury them all alone?

Code blatently stolen from queen of codes, Sky!

Sohalia

Not sure what tomorrow brings
Not sure why a caged bird sings

Sometimes Soh thought it might be nice to become a hermit. To just go off into the wilderness, without a care in the world, to have some time alone with which to rediscover who she was. Especially now, without a part of her soul. She was many things: the Luminary, Stormbreak's former Heart, a friend to many - but these days it was easier to label what she was rather than who she was, and that was a distinction that chafed.

Handing off the wine, Sohalia smiled kindly at Remi, pleased to have been able to bring some small token of her appreciation despite his insistence that it hadn't been necessary. She accepted the proffered water in its place and took a sip, following Remi to take up a seated position on a chair. Her heart fluttered anxiously in her chest. What if Tarak didn't want to come? What if he was angry with her? What if, rather than closure, this meeting just ripped her heart into a million more tiny pieces, so fractured and jagged that she could never piece them back together?

But she was as ready as she'd ever be, so she nodded stiffly, suddenly rendered mute by the magnitude of what was to transpire next.

Don't ask cause I don't know
No idea just where to go

REMI

the bastion

What good are hands
if there's nothing that they hold

Remi nods gently, sensing the swell of nerves in the silence between them and the way it ripples through the attuned bond. He doesn’t speak—doesn’t try to soothe or soften it. Some things aren’t meant to be made easier.

Instead, he lets his breath settle. His eyes slip shut, lashes brushing his cheeks, and inward he turns, to that sacred place within where Mort’s touch still lingers like a fingerprint on his soul. There, nestled in memory and magic, is the thread—golden and fragile, yet unbreakable. He tugs.

The air shifts.

Beside him, space folds. It’s not violent, not loud, but still the houseboat seems to hush around it. A doorway unfurls like petals parting in slow bloom, gold light spilling softly onto the floorboards. Beyond the threshold is a world not unlike this one, but touched with something deeper—more eternal. Towering trees stretch into a golden sky, their leaves catching light that doesn’t seem to come from any single sun. The air smells like wildflowers and warm earth, and from somewhere just out of sight, the soft murmur of voices carries on a summer breeze.

Opening his eyes, Remi breathes out once more and looks to Sohalia. There’s reverence in his gaze, and something quietly protective beneath it. "Go ahead," he says gently. "Call for him."

And what good are hearts
if you bury them all alone?

Code blatently stolen from queen of codes, Sky!

Sohalia

Not sure what tomorrow brings
Not sure why a caged bird sings

Sohalia sat in her discomfort, her anxiety swelling in her chest until it her heart thundered so loudly that she was sure that Remi could hear it from his seat on the sofa. But it seemed that no words were needed. The demigod allowed her the space to feel what needed to be felt, and she watched him from beneath her lashes as he seemed to slip away to another time and place, until, suddenly, a portal unfurled beside him, offering her an unprecedented view into a world beyond this one.

It was warm. That was the first thing she noticed. That, and the golden light that seemed to filter through leaves too bright and vibrant for anything mortal. Sohalia had never been one to attribute dank darkness to death, but this small glimpse into Mort's halls was beyond even anything in her imaginings. She gazed at the doorway in silence, reverent and awestruck, until Remi reminded her that she was here for a reason. Go ahead, he said.

So she did.

"Tarak," she called, her voice quivering with an overflow of emotions that she couldn't quite tamp down. "Tarak, are you there?"

Don't ask cause I don't know
No idea just where to go

REMI

the bastion

What good are hands
if there's nothing that they hold

As Sohalia’s voice trembles into the golden light—fragile and full of all the things unsaid between worlds—Remi lets his gaze drift toward the threshold. Just briefly. Just long enough to feel the presence there begin to shift, to stir. Then, respectfully, he lowers his eyes and bows his head, offering them what privacy he can.

He doesn’t leave—can’t, not with the tether to Mort’s realm still held gently within his soul—but he becomes still and silent, a quiet anchor at the edge of something sacred. Letting the moment belong to her.

Oria, nestled in his curls, shifts faintly, the soft rustle of her leaves the only sound as Remi steadies the flow of magic within him. The golden light shimmers and pulses gently with life beyond death, and though he senses the veil beginning to thin—feels the approach of someone answering Sohalia’s call—Remi does not look up. Some moments aren’t meant to be witnessed. Only held.

And what good are hearts
if you bury them all alone?

Code blatently stolen from queen of codes, Sky!

Sohalia

Not sure what tomorrow brings
Not sure why a caged bird sings

There was a moment, however brief, where Sohalia wondered if Tarak would even answer her call. Perhaps he was angry with her - and why shouldn't he be, when she was the reason for his death? But the moment passed quickly enough, until finally upon the threshold, Soh saw a blur of sapphire; and then Tarak was in her lap, peering up at her through golden eyes. Tears overflowed as Soh made a strangled sound halfway between a laugh and a sob, and despite her companion's weak protests, she scooped him up into a crushing hug.

Which, naturally, lasted only a moment before Tarak wiggled free, perching daintily on the floor in front of his bonded with a look of fond reproach. This was a game they had played too many times before: Soh smothering her companion with affection while Tarak pretended to hate every moment. He'd never quite been able to hide the satisfied warmth that came through the bond, though.

But the beauty of the reunion was short-lived, if only because Soh was aware that they were on borrowed time. The brilliant smile fell from her face as she reached a trembling hand out to stroke her companion's head, scratching beneath his beak just the way he liked it. "I'm so sorry, Tarak," she whispered, her voice breaking. "I should have protected you, but I failed." The little griffin began to purr as he climbed halfway into her lap, leaning into her scritches. "Are you okay in Mort's halls?" she asked, worry coloring her tone. "It looks beautiful there, but... are you lonely?" Gods knew she was. She could never replace the piece of her soul that her griffin had taken with him on the day that he died, and she knew she'd spend the rest of her life trying to bury the ache.

Later, Soh would have to wonder how their bond still worked even after death, now that they were reunited. But for now, she simply marveled as a slew of images and emotions flooded her mind. A flock of griffins of all shapes, colors, and sizes. A hollow high up in a tree, clearly lived in and cared for. Plenty of food. All the things she could dream of and wish for were there in her mind's eye, clearly provided for her companion in the afterlife. Tarak was content, it seemed - far more so than the bonded he had left behind. Oh, he missed her, that was true - but he had everything he could ever want in Mort's Halls, and that knowledge brought with it a sense of peace that the Luminary had been sorely lacking in weeks past.

In what felt simultaneously like all afternoon and no time at all, Tarak shifted from her lap, rubbing his head against her hand with a final croon of goodbye. And Tarak was moving away, pausing to chirp cheerfully at her in the doorway that Remi had opened. Then, as though he'd never been there at all, he was gone, leaving only a pair of bright blue feathers in his wake.

Don't ask cause I don't know
No idea just where to go

REMI

the bastion

What good are hands
if there's nothing that they hold

Remi sits like stone, his presence little more than a shadow at the edge of the world Sohalia is momentarily allowed to touch. Through the bond between companion and bonded, through the golden light of Mort’s realm, he can feel the flicker of their reunion like warmth on skin just beyond reach—a balm for grief, edged with the ache of goodbye.

Only when Tarak retreats and the feathers drift softly to the floor does the Bastion move. He exhales, a slow and quiet breath that seems to carry with it the weight of the moment, the way a tide recedes only once it’s certain the storm has passed. With a gentle gesture, the golden doorway slips shut, light folding in on itself like the end of a dream, until only the hush of the Northaven remains.

He doesn’t speak right away, just clears his throat softly and glances toward Sohalia with an expression full of quiet empathy. "It’s never easy," he says, voice low. "No matter how beautiful the place, or how well we know they’re cared for...it still feels like losing them all over again."

Leaning forward slightly, his fingers steeple loosely between his knees. "But Tarak is only ever a call away, if you need him again." Then, with the faintest tilt of his head: "Would you like to talk about it? Or...can I get you anything?"

And what good are hearts
if you bury them all alone?

Code blatently stolen from queen of codes, Sky!

Sohalia

Not sure what tomorrow brings
Not sure why a caged bird sings

With Tarak gone, Soh sat momentarily in a solemn silence that stretched throughout the room. She wasn’t sure where to go from here, except that Tarak was reasonably happy and content. Though she’d heard of people bringing companions back from the dead, she wasn’t sure it would be right to pull him away from an eternity of contentment until such a day that she would join him. The young woman stared at the space where her companion had disappeared for far longer than she could see him.

Eventually, Remi cleared his throat and offered words of support that had Soh blinking, dazed as she returned to the reality in which her companion was gone. ”No,” she said distantly. ”I… thank you. I appreciate this more than words can say. I hope you don’t think me rude, but I think… I think I need to be alone.” She got unsteadily to her feet. ”I hope one day I can repay your kindness.”

And then, after she’d said her goodbyes, she wandered back out into Torchline, not sure where she was going, but knowing that it needed to be anywhere but here.

fin

Don't ask cause I don't know
No idea just where to go