we know very well who we are

// down by the river i was drawn by your grace, into tempest of oblivion and to the lover's place
i was stuck in a puddle, full of tears and unwise, dark doings now i know, that we've paid unlike //

She’s home, finally, and despite being dry from Halo’s trek, she’s still frigid and freezing – keeping the coat tucked around her and the egg as she makes her way into her apartment. From the windows, she can spy the hustle down below, and where she might usually sit and watch it idly while reading a book in her downtime, this time she focuses on finding a box of sorts. She rummages through her bedding, searching for something soft and warm to tuck into it and place the egg upon, and she stands there staring at it.

It was heavy, but it wasn’t moving. But she can tell there’s something important inside. She just doesn’t know what lays beyond the opalescent shell. So she does what she knows, reaching out to those that would know. She’s just simply lucky it’s her sister.

By the time the note is sent, she’s settled along the couch with her jackets from Halo shed, warmth slowly beginning to leach into her skin as she sips from a cup of tea, watching and waiting for her sister to arrive.

Seraphina

Lena

and sweetest in the gale is heard
and sore must be the storm

Lena hadn’t taken her time.

She’d wanted to – to be enthralled in the midst of the Celestine for lifetimes, the ornate gardens a call to bliss, to merriment, to peace, to salvation. Except the inklings of curiosity had been slipping for a long time now, overpowering, overwhelming, until they assembled into a rogue formation, and she had to be very careful, very precise, over how she worded inquiries. Over how she questioned. Over how she wondered and pondered out into the ethers, standing amongst other transfixed, creature eyes, the thoughts bending and brewing again the moment the note was slipped into her hand.

Her sister was home, back from portals and worlds apart.

A race along the blooms and the summer heat had left her cheeks rosy-hued and her smile undampened the moment she arrived at the Tower, the grin emboldened and spirited, ducking into her sister’s chambers. “Hello!” Bounding and leaping into the parlor, taking note of the tea and helping herself to a mug, her eyes shot over to her sibling. “Okay, spill.”

Then, there was the movement, the motion, the glimmer of something from within, much like a shudder, an undulation, in the back of her mind – her gaze slowly sliding over to where the egg rested, a light gasp on her lips as she was instinctively pulled over. Lena placed the mug down on a nearby table, the resin no longer occupying her interest – gaze not sweeping away from the opalescent orb. “Where did you find it?”

that could abash the little bird
that kept so many warm

// down by the river i was drawn by your grace, into tempest of oblivion and to the lover's place
i was stuck in a puddle, full of tears and unwise, dark doings now i know, that we've paid unlike //

When Lena finds her, it’s with her back against the counter, tea clutched into her hands. Her attention strays only to flash her sister a bright, glimmering smile before she’s settling in again and staring at the egg. Her lips part, trying to figure out where to even start, before her sibling’s eyes drift to the opalescent egg settled in the nest, sitting and waiting while the Artificer has little more to go off of.

So she steps toward it, a hand jutting out to tug at her sister’s elbow to come closer. “Halo.” She begins, a breathy word before she turns to face her sibling more fully, wide grins spreading across her face. “Surrounded by a bunch of random people and alone in the frigid tundra. It chose me, Lena.” She says, surprise simmering in her voice as she turns to look back at it.

“I figured if anyone would know what kind of egg it is, it’s you.” Nodding toward it, she takes a sip from her tea, patiently and excitedly waiting.

Seraphina

Lena

and sweetest in the gale is heard
and sore must be the storm

Another to Halo – and Lena left behind, to wonder, to inveigle into her own inquisitive depths. “Luciana said she went to Halo too. How did you find it?” She didn’t want to hear that it was inhospitable, that the worlds beyond were far out of reach, that something would hold her back from wanting to explore – yearning for a reason for her enticement, rather than just craving to see what other kingdoms and thresholds were like. And still, her eyes only flickered over to Sera, attention diverted between shells and fissures, a world of snow and ice and everything else notched, embedded, in between.

Chosen - and how many people could say such things? Chosen by gods, chosen by creatures, chosen by the way life settled over them. Perhaps Sera had done something to earn the recognition, the merit, the potential lodged within. Perhaps the fauna had recognized the weight and ambience of her sister’s soul, and found itself beholden only to her, and to no one else – the random people, the frigid tundra. No jealousy, no envy, no avaricious gleam melded to her surface, only a gentle reverence as she hovered above the egg; proud of her sibling’s accomplishments. “Hello, little one,” she cooed with a similar essence to those she cared for amongst the Celestine.

An answer, a response, audacious and quick, caused a sharpened grin as she finally lifted her sights, her eyes, back to the Artificer. “A dragon.” An arch to her brow resided, and the smile softened then, as her palms melded and folded back together. “Congratulations.”

that could abash the little bird
that kept so many warm

// down by the river i was drawn by your grace, into tempest of oblivion and to the lover's place
i was stuck in a puddle, full of tears and unwise, dark doings now i know, that we've paid unlike //

“I saw Luciana there, too.” She comments offhandedly, shuddering slightly at the memory of the woman crawling toward her – releasing truths of Abandoned children being birthed and killed while before it having decided that she’d instruct Sera to be careful because of the Abandoned man that stood beside them on that platform. Her lip feathers in distaste, but she pushes it off and away, deciding that it didn’t matter at this present moment.

Because whatever was in the egg mattered far more – a soft smile crossing her face as Lena coos to it, a warmth spreading in Sera’s mind in a space carved out that had never been there before. “A dragon?” She repeats, stepping closer and reaching out with a hand to place along the edge of the egg, unable to keep the smile from her lips. But she does lean over and nudge her sister with an elbow, amusement flickering in her dark flint gaze.

“Oh! Lena look!” She chimes, pulling her hand away as the egg wiggles slightly, as a small crack begins to form through the scaly opal exterior.

Seraphina

Lena

and sweetest in the gale is heard
and sore must be the storm

Her brows furrowed slightly at the lack of information, and then the notions that Luciana had been there again, despite her earlier misgivings. Some of those she knew and cherished were still some of the most perplexing people – but perhaps that was what made the world interesting, facets upon facets, layers upon layers, of beings who wove their way into fragments of the unknown and the strange.

With nothing more on the matter, she’d most certainly pry later, her attention deviated straight back to the dragon egg, stepping out of the way so Sera could fully occupy the expanse, be the first to stare upon its essence, to occupy the bond meant to solidify. Souls to contain and exude, a wonderful experience where they’d lace together and form something enigmatic and beatific, an affection, a link between spirits, a gift from celestial stars. “A dragon,” she repeated and whispered with a wrinkle to her nose, to a delight grown on sprigs of blossoms and light.

Then, as she’d known, the fledgling began its trek towards the open world. “Best let it on its own. They’re very proud.” As a species as a whole; to display their prowess, their strength, as soon as they occupied the realm, as soon as they entered, as soon as they drew first breath. But she quietly surveyed, eyes rapt and riveted just like her sister’s, awaiting that fateful moment – for cracks and scales, for leathery wings, for draconic interludes.

that could abash the little bird
that kept so many warm

// down by the river i was drawn by your grace, into tempest of oblivion and to the lover's place
i was stuck in a puddle, full of tears and unwise, dark doings now i know, that we've paid unlike //

There would be time later to go over the specifics as to how Sera had been there, how she’d left the Climb and stumbled across the group of people with the nest. For now, however, the dragon seems determined to make a statement – and Sera listens to her sister, turning slightly from the egg to not outwardly watch, but still be there all the same. There’s something new and shiny that glimmers in her mind, and while she can’t quite figure out what the sensation is, she knows it to be the dragon.

“Sounds like it’ll fit in well, then?” She murmurs, flashing Lena a grin – referring to their family and the pride their parents bolstered for such accomplished children. But the egg begins to crack more, spiderwebbing out as pieces begin to fall away. There’s a pale snout that appears, popping out of the egg and letting a purple tongue flicker out to scent the air, the tea, pausing as its heart thunders and he takes a quiet break to rest.

“I had to go to the Climb with Doctor Hart.” She explains, trying to talk around letting the pang of Levi’s bond growing anew in her mind. “We got some water from Frey’s Breath there.”

Seraphina

Lena

and sweetest in the gale is heard
and sore must be the storm

Pride a forgone conclusion in their particular household, Lena slipped into a more mischievous grin too – but her sights, her bounds, her notions had to be reserved for the creature before them. The cracking continued, fostered by the diligence and strength of the child within, the forged determination shattering shells and protection, where it would find its own once it emerged, and began its own dawn. “Oh, very well done,” she proclaimed to the fledgling, stepping closer but not to hover, not to take away any of the remnants; merely to share in the moments, to observe in case any future intervals took place within the Celestine. “Do you feel anything yet?” Her eyes went to Sera briefly, quickly, to the notions of bonds; uncertain how quickly they began to share minds and attuned complexities, to regard in wisdom, emotions, and other bounds. She presumed her sibling would be able to describe the sentiments firsthand, and with a studious mind, the Caretaker would listen.

There were other explanations unwinding through though, and she took a moment where her warm gaze wasn’t on the egg or the hatchling, but rounding back to Sera. “Oh? Is that to help with-,” she cut herself off, because she wasn’t certain of the implications; could guess, could estimate, could predict it had something to do with the sickness outside their walls, with the individuals presenting symptoms. No one had come to her with the semblances, as it wasn’t part of her repertoire, but she’d heard them throughout the gardens, discussing the bizarre circumstances. “Will it do anything?”

that could abash the little bird
that kept so many warm

// down by the river i was drawn by your grace, into tempest of oblivion and to the lover's place
i was stuck in a puddle, full of tears and unwise, dark doings now i know, that we've paid unlike //

The praise from Lena is met with a grooming sound from the pale dragon, and Sera can’t help but to let her gaze snap to the dragon once more as another piece of the shell falls away. She feels… Pride, determination, power, and fearlessness radiate from that space in her mind. And then she settles down as soon as half the shell is gone, able to turn her attention back to her sister with an easy smile.

“I can feel him, yes.” She says softly, almost as if voicing the feeling would mean that it disappeared. It doesn’t, and she sips from the tea as she considers how to describe it. “It feels like… There’s a new space in my mind. A new thought that is and isn’t mine.” Her brows furrow slightly, a small shrug given to her sibling before the conversation is swept away again.

The water from Frey’s Breath. “She’s hoping it might help. I don’t know yet though, I only just got back. She got a head start.” She’d find out soon enough, however. “I channeled for the first time too…” She murmurs softly, into the cup, as if the thought still surprised her too.

Seraphina

Lena

and sweetest in the gale is heard
and sore must be the storm

New spaces, new feelings, new connections forged; beautiful things meant to be sacred, wholesome, and pure. Lena’s grin never faded, a bright, blooming conviction in the midst of it all, watching, chin in her palm, with a quiet reverence. These seconds were blessings and gifts, and thereafter would only be as sweet and fortified; content and happy for her sister, to have been chosen by such a creature. Didn’t it only foster more strength? Didn’t it only proclaim more determination? Didn’t it mean she’d been enough for the divine beasts to have thought her worthy? She could only grow from here, wonderful and effervescent Seraphina, Artificer extraordinaire. Pride for her sibling merely continued with an arch of her brow, a tilt of her head to insinuate she was listening while gaze remained riveted and tied to the babe making his presence known in the world – through Sera. “And what does he say?”

For Lena could always ask the youth of his own accord, but something felt like going too deep, into disrupting something newly formed and forged.

She wouldn’t be able to shrug it away, too enamored with the possibilities, with the brilliance, with the sheer cosmic and celestial sanctuary. It was why she tended to the Celestine, why she stuck to her gardens, for it was a shelter, a guiding whim for everyone here.

The subject altered, but her attention didn’t. A thousand other statements yielded and composed into those words, and while the pale hatchling continued his work, her warm gaze swept back over to her sister. “If it does, will you go back there again?” A question on the tip of her tongue managed to not spring forth (and if you do, will you take me with you?), and instead, she meandered back to the other subject, the grin broadening. “Who did you call?” She could guess; because Lena would never be able to – the Attuned nature affording a great many wonderful things, and she’d never take it for granted – but the ability to summon a deity, a herald, was an amazing gift all its own.

that could abash the little bird
that kept so many warm

// down by the river i was drawn by your grace, into tempest of oblivion and to the lover's place
i was stuck in a puddle, full of tears and unwise, dark doings now i know, that we've paid unlike //

Her brows furrow, trying to pick out words from the connection with the tiny dragon as rests. And all she can see and hear are images and feelings, no words, no nothing. Stumped, she cocks her head toward her sibling, confusion flaring across her face as she tries to word it. “Nothing. At least, no words.” She begins, taking a soft and gentle inhale and exhale – acceptance for the dragonling new and fresh to the world. “Brief pictures here and there, mostly his feelings.” She offers quietly, as if her sister would have the answers she seeks of whether or not that was normal and okay.

So she focuses on something else for the time being, letting his feelings and images flood that part of her mind. “We may. I might try to recreate the springs here for our own treatments. But I have to speak to Frey first. It is theirs after all.” She hums with a quiet laugh, without a doubt her sibling would be on that list of helpers to get things in order.

As for who she called? She sets the tea down and focuses her attention on Lena with bright flint eyes of excitement. “I tried to call for Frey, but… I think it was an eel made of light. It appeared and gave us a rather large container to bring more of the water back.” Excitement oozes from her with this, hands clasping together now that there wasn’t a cup of tea within it. “And get this… It was weightless, even full of the water.”

Seraphina

Lena

and sweetest in the gale is heard
and sore must be the storm

“It won’t always be words.” Sometimes communication lilted through songs, through thoughts, through feelings, through emotions – energy poised, reverence refined, confusion imminent as the two became acquainted. Lena leaned back in her chair, sipping at her tea, pondering how best to describe the anomalies. Eventually she swallowed the hot drink, contemplating, notions conveyed in her usual rhapsody and cadence. “It will come with time too. He’s quite young.” A smile, tender and warm, followed, eyes darting back to the babe. “And experience. Once you get to know one another, and go out to see the world.” Once they understood what life had to offer beyond shells and fortifications – gaze down at the floor for a brief second, something flashing in her gaze, before it dissipated completely, and she listened to everything else flickering and basking along her sister’s intervals.

“Oh. That sounds divine.” Hot springs for any occasion, treatments or repose, held a particularly nice note of possibilities and tangents. Sera’s further excitement, the potential in calling Frey but the opportunity missed for an eel, was intriguing, and she arched her brow in her calm, compassionate composition, and then the grin embellished into its effervescent haze. “Amazing! Hopefully it will help.” And her sibling would be able to keep the container, which could only serve her well in coming days and seasons.

that could abash the little bird
that kept so many warm

// down by the river i was drawn by your grace, into tempest of oblivion and to the lover's place
i was stuck in a puddle, full of tears and unwise, dark doings now i know, that we've paid unlike //

There’s comfort in what Lena says that has her relaxing, nudging on the companion bond with shiny newness of not quite having an experience like this. It was strange to say the least, but she’d take it. There wasn’t anything she’d trade to give it away. So it’s with that in mind, she focuses on explaining her thoughts with her sibling, feeling mentally and watching from the corner of her eye as the dragonling moves again, pulling itself from the egg and up to the corner of the box — bright vibrant eyes focused entirely on Sera.

“I hope it will.” She says quietly, unsure how much information was out in the open about who was sick in Stormbreak, and from there what else anyone knew. So much like the rest of it, she keeps it close to her chest. “What have you been up to while I was gone, Lena?” She asks softly, turning her attention to the dragon in the box that’s begin a high pitched whine, reaching out so the little creature might crawl into her lap for warmth. He does exactly that, scrabbling for purchase on an outstretched arm, before quite ungracefully flopping down into her lap and curling up.

Seraphina

Lena

and sweetest in the gale is heard
and sore must be the storm

Another sip of tea, another watchful gaze upon the dragon, an uncertain coil building in the pit of her heart. Her sister said nothing more on the matter, and she wondered what else was flickering and bounding there, things that couldn’t be said, things that couldn’t be revealed, or naught at all? She couldn’t recall a time they kept things from one another – so perhaps it was just the same uneasy shift in her pulse, in her soul, as other nuances and notions took effect. As the world continued to change, without prompting or known parables, or alongside a pressing of divinity, celestial beings mooring themselves into play. The youth looked down at the mug in her hands, at the way her fingers clutched tightly around the resin, and wondered how much longer they’d have until normalcy, until these calm moments, were mere nuances of the past.

Or if she was just being melancholy – drowned out by the chaos instilling and ensuing.

Lena didn’t expect the question, these moments and intervals had been about Sera, and not her; head lifting promptly, gaze settling on her sibling, before coasting elsewhere – to the hatchling, to leathery wings, to pearlescent glows. “Same as always.” Taking care of everything within the Celestine, emboldened and warm in the tranquil, serene world; curiosity stretching and reaching for what laid elsewhere.

Wanting a chance for herself.

The smile dimmed a fraction, head tilting precariously, studying artifacts in the room, and seeing none of them. A time to be brave, the phrase sticking to her tongue, a moment in stalwart capacity – and for some reason she couldn’t look at Sera, perhaps afraid of the ensuing response. Either way. “If you go back, can I come with you?”

that could abash the little bird
that kept so many warm