Sewing Seeds

Aurelia

and my hands aren't clean
maybe they never will be

The sun beat down on Aurelia's shoulders, its warmth welcomed. The ceaseless rhythm of the sea, the gulls' raucous cries, and the briny tang of the air filled her senses. 

She journeyed light of foot and burden, naught but a pouch holding a single, vital seedpod, accompanying her. Her task was simple: to find a haven for this precious cargo, a sanctuary where it might take root and flourish undisturbed.

Thus, she wandered the sun-kissed strand, her bare feet leaving fleeting impressions in the yielding sand. The allure of swift travel, a mere shift of form away, beckoned, yet she resisted. For too long had she roamed the world cloaked in fur. Now, beneath the open sky, she reveled in the simple act of being human, of feeling the sun's rays upon her skin and the sand's cool caress beneath her soles.

The hope was that if she got far enough away from the hustle and bustle of Haulani, she could plant it where no one would bother it - for a time. And time was of the essence, for within that golden husk lay the promise of renewal. What wonders might spring forth from its depths, was anyone's guess, yet Aurelia clung to the belief that good would triumph over evil.

It would seem that hope had become her constant companion lately. But once this task was completed, she would no longer be a passive observer. It was a start, at least.

"Guess I'm planting this one alone, then," Aurelia murmured, her gaze fixed on the golden seedpod nestled in her palm. With a resolute sigh, she turned her gaze towards the treeline, searching for the perfect spot.

but they can still carry you home
when you're ready to sleep

we keep on doing this again and again
the same old things expecting something different

A trip to Torchline was becoming more and more frequent as the season went on – making sure that he had everything in order for the event he intends to host with Flora at the Hanged Man. But it also serves as a way for the Flood to actually get some decent time at the ocean. The beach in King’s End was fine, but between all the shipwrecks and broken bits of wood and metal below the surface, it didn’t make for an easy trek for relaxation.

Torchline still reigned supreme in that regard.

It’s as such that the Flood slips from his orca shift back into himself, wading through the water up toward the beach until he can stand and dip the salty sea water onto the sand, squinting through the sunlight that reflects brightly as he glances over at the figure that seems to be staring at the tree line. Looking over to make sure there’s nothing too dangerous within it, his gaze snaps back when a sudden click of recognition breaks through his mind.

“Aurelia??” He calls out, brows pinched, taking a step that nearly has him stumbling for a moment with how the momentary pause had sunk him into the sand. Recovering, he takes a few steps closer, content to be made the fool if he’s wrong, and finding he cares very little whether he looks like an idiot or not.

but by now we know it's never gonna change
i'm not trying to complain, i'm just saying it's a waste

Aurelia

and my hands aren't clean
maybe they never will be

At the sound of her name, spoken in a voice both bewildered and surprised, Aurelia turned, a flicker of recognition stirring within her. Such calls had become a familiar refrain in recent days. Yet, this voice resonated deeper than any other.

Whirling around, she beheld him, stumbling through the white sands, his emergence from the watery depths a spectacle of ungainly grace.

"Sunjata!" The name burst forth, a joyful exclamation that carried the weight of the years. A radiant smile bloomed on her face. Her heart, heavy with the burdens of her past and the uncertainties of her return, felt a sudden lightness.

 Years of solitude melted away, replaced by a rush of warmth and affection.

Her steps quickened, closing the distance between them. As she reached him, her gaze searched his face for any sign of the playful spirit and unwavering support she remembered so well. Or had the sting of her absence left him bittered towards her too?

"It's really you," she breathed, her voice thick with emotion. "I can't believe it."

Her gaze traced the familiar lines of his face, the laughter lines around his eyes, the strength in his jaw.  Time had etched new stories onto his features, but the essence of the man she knew remained unchanged.

"I missed you," she confessed, her voice a soft whisper. "More than I can say."

The words hung in the air, heavy with the weight of unspoken longing and the bittersweet ache of lost time.  Tears welled in her eyes, threatening to spill over, but she blinked them back, determined to hold onto this moment of reunion, this precious reconnection with her greatest friend.

"I'm back, Sunjata," she declared, her voice gaining strength with each syllable. "And I'm not leaving again. Not this time."
 A silent promise reflected in her eyes.

but they can still carry you home
when you're ready to sleep

we keep on doing this again and again
the same old things expecting something different

So many things start to flood into his mind the second her voice hits him. It nearly chokes him with the force of it and stills him to watch as she rushes toward him, sprinting through the sand toward him, arms outstretched, like it’s a movie he might have seen back in Korofi. Automatically, his arms reach out, catching her when she reaches him and pulls him into his chest, bent down to envelope her.

Much has changed since the last time they’d seen each other. The last time she had been one of the first to meet him after his betrayal of Safrin. It was before the war, before he lost Nate, before he’d hidden himself away in the Refuge and pretended he didn’t exist for years after. The twins, while the Flood still visited them on occasion, had been given to a home in Kings End that could properly care for them, while he worked on figuring out his life.

And since then, not only could he hear her in the attuned bond again, he’s become one of the strongest — something neither of them likely would’ve ever believed.

It’s evident in the ease of which he invites her into the crushing hug, the way his scars spark with light like lightning to fill the scars on his arms. It’s evident in how he may not smell the way he used to, but instead whatever the Fireheart preferred.

Hands keep her close even as the hug parts and his smile is crooked from the scar still bisecting his mouth, but its vibrant nonetheless. “Gods, I missed you too.” He says on a whisper of a sound, nearly dulled out by the wave crashing behind them. He scans her face, spotting the sheen of tears, and his non scarred hand lifts, still wearing Nate’s ring as he brushes back her hair from her face gently, as if feeling it and scanning her to make sure she’s just as real. “You better.” He says with a bit more to his voice, a sudden whipcrack strikes like lightning through the bond as he wars with the sensation of hope and grief. “Fuck, I’m so glad to see you.” Like little things slotting back into place, like things were slowly being made right again.

but by now we know it's never gonna change
i'm not trying to complain, i'm just saying it's a waste

Aurelia

and my hands aren't clean
maybe they never will be

The sudden warmth of Sunjata's embrace enveloped Aurelia, a comforting haven against the storm of uncertainty that had raged within her. His familiar scent - now mingled with the subtle tang of sea salt and a hint of something wild and untamed - grounded her in the present, banishing the ghosts of her past mistakes. Relief washed over her in waves, a tangible sensation that mirrored the rhythmic ebb and flow of the tide.

He was alive. He was here. And despite the years of silence, their bond remained unbroken. The ease with which he held her, the strength in his arms, spoke volumes. He had not turned away, had not let her absence extinguish the flame of their friendship.

As his scars lit up with sparks of lightning, a thrill of awe coursed through her. The Sunjata she had known had become something more.

Through their intertwined bond, she felt the echoes of his emotions, a bittersweet mixture of grief and hope. The weight of the war had left its mark on his soul. Yet, amidst the sorrow, there was also a glimmer of light; hope.

The tears that welled in her eyes, were not of sadness, but of overwhelming joy and gratitude. His gentle touch, the coolness of Nate's ring against her cheek, reminded her that she was not alone.

Her gaze lingered on the faint lines etched around his eyes, the subtle tension in his shoulders. "How have you been holding up?" she asked, her voice gentle, "The twins, are they alright?" A pause, then a hesitant question, her voice barely above a whisper, "And Nate.. how is he?"

Aurelia's heart ached with a mix of hope and trepidation. She longed to hear that Nate was safe, that their little family had weathered the storm. But the shadows in Sunjata's eyes told a different story.

but they can still carry you home
when you're ready to sleep

we keep on doing this again and again
the same old things expecting something different

He’s gotten more grey hairs since the last time they’d seen one another, a stripe of it nestled into the light brown behind his ear, withdrawing slightly to look at her and simply take in the fact that she was here, whole and safe. His smile remains just as lopsided, even as the question leaves her lips and his side of the bond starts to feel shaky and unstable, like an earthquake shattering through it.

“Better now.” In terms of how he’s holding up. “I…” He trails off with a little sound, his hands lowering to rest around her shoulders, his steel gaze shadowed as he looks away from her vibrant gaze, to the way her hair curls against her temple, how it tickles against his hands at her shoulders. “Nate’s gone.” It’s a soft whisper, loud enough to be heard over the waves and the hels screaming down the breach. “He, uhm, died in the war.” And I wasn’t there. I was in the Refuge, I didn’t know until it was over. I had nothing to bury. “So I gave them to a good family in King’s End that would take better care of them than I could.” Because I couldn’t take care of myself.

His smile twists to something masked, something she’d see straight through with how close they were. “I couldn’t even go and see Frey for a while.” He admits a touch ruefully, fingertips twitching against Aurelia’s shoulders.

but by now we know it's never gonna change
i'm not trying to complain, i'm just saying it's a waste

Aurelia

and my hands aren't clean
maybe they never will be

The seismic shift in Sunjata's emotions reverberated through their attuned bond, a jarring tremor that shook Aurelia to her core. The warmth of their reunion shattered, replaced by a cold dread that seeped into her bones. His words, whispered like a mournful lament, confirmed her worst fears.

Nate's gone.

A gasp escaped her lips, a strangled sound that echoed the hollowness in her chest. 

Tears, once held back, began to flow, blurring her vision as she reached out to cup Sunjata's face, her fingers tracing the jagged scar that marred his once carefree smile.

The anguish radiating from him, a raw and unfiltered torrent of grief and guilt, threatened to overwhelm her. She felt his pain as if it were her own, a shared burden that pressed down on their intertwined souls.

"Oh, Sunjata," she breathed, her voice choked with sorrow. "I'm so sorry."

Her own regrets, her own guilt for not being there, intertwined with his, creating a tangled knot of shared loss. She leaned into him, her arms wrapping around his broad shoulders, offering a silent promise of support and understanding.

"We've both been through so much, Sunjata," Aurelia murmured, her voice thick with emotion. She pulled back from the embrace, wiping the tears from her cheeks. "The war, the losses... it's almost too much to bear."

Her eyes, glistening with tears, searched upward to meet his, holding a silent acknowledgment of the shared pain that bound them together. "But we're still here," she continued, her voice gaining strength with each word. "We're still standing. Scarred, maybe broken in some ways, but not defeated... We're survivors, Sunjata. And we'll keep fighting. For Nate, for each other, for a better future."

"That's why I came here today," she half-sobbed, a choked laugh escaping her lips as she fumbled with the pouch at her hip, "I guess this is supposed to help... I don't know." She held up the seedpod, its golden shell gleaming in the sunlight, but the gesture felt hollow. A desperate grasp at a fleeting hope.

but they can still carry you home
when you're ready to sleep

we keep on doing this again and again
the same old things expecting something different

There’s that hollow void that blossoms in between them when her tears start to free fall, when the news hits, and it feels like it had when the war ended and he’d gone home to a house that still smelled like Nate. Her hand cups his face and the Flood lets her, tilting his head into it ever so gently as she traces along the scars and any smile that had graced them fades quickly.

Never knowing what to say when people apologize to him, Sunjata simply nods and bends ever so slightly to help her embrace him around his broad, tattooed shoulders. Her voice a thread that keeps him from letting himself break into those shards of pieces he had been years ago when the war ended.

“One thing after another.” He supplies instantly, jaw working slightly as he exhales a slow sigh, before clouded steel finds her own stormy gaze. “I had to tell myself that a lot.” Comes the quieter admission, before he’s giving her a light squeeze and pulling back as she reveals the golden pod.

Something of extreme discomfort settles in his gut, nose wrinkling as he releases her and looks at it. “What is it?” He asks on a breath of confusion, a lingering oily feeling of distaste through the attuned bond he tries to hide.

but by now we know it's never gonna change
i'm not trying to complain, i'm just saying it's a waste

Aurelia

and my hands aren't clean
maybe they never will be

A sudden chill crept into the warmth of their reunion, a discordant note jarring Aurelia's senses. The shift in Sunjata's demeanor, the subtle wrinkle of his nose, was mirrored in the attuned bond, a wave of unease washing over her. It was as if a dark cloud had passed over the sun.

She felt his discomfort, a visceral sensation of aversion that prickled her skin and tightened her chest. It was an unexpected reaction.

"It's a seedpod," she explained, her voice carefully neutral, trying to quell the rising tide of confusion and doubt, "From a tree in the Suvahasi. Hadama, the mer-king, told me about it. He believes it can... help. Against the Void."

She stared down at it, slowly turning it over in her hands.

"I'm not sure exactly what it's supposed to do," she admitted, her voice faltering slightly. "But... maybe... hopefully it can counteract the corruption. Maybe it'll bring some balance back to the land, or cleanse it. Maybe it'll act as a protective barrier... or a conduit for something..." The possibilities felt literally endless.

Her words held a tentative hope, a fragile optimism that wavered in the face of Sunjata's unease.

Aurelia fought to maintain her composure, to project a sense of calm amidst the emotional turmoil. But the questions lingered, unspoken: Why does he feel this way? What does he know that I don't?

but they can still carry you home
when you're ready to sleep

we keep on doing this again and again
the same old things expecting something different

“Ah,” Sunjata says, starting to try and mask that oily sensation growing in his gut – because he realizes, now, why it feels so wrong to be around. And in an effort to not simply advertise his current situation. Sunjata steps back and nods toward her. “It might.” Unsure what else to add other than he really didn’t want to be around it, Sunjata glances toward the water and notices a glimpse of something pink cresting above the wave.

The encantado seems to be a perfect distraction, though, and in a strange whiplash for his friend, the smile he flashes her is crooked due to the scar, but genuine. “If you wanna go and plant it, I’m gonna see what kind of shit the encantados are up to today.” An excuse, of course, but one that hopefully doesn’t get read into too much.

He won’t go far, but he also doesn’t want to be involved with the whole seed pod ordeal, so keeping his distance until she’s free of it and they can continue their reconnection would make it that much easier for him to not sour their reconnection.

but by now we know it's never gonna change
i'm not trying to complain, i'm just saying it's a waste

Aurelia

and my hands aren't clean
maybe they never will be

She paused, watching him head back towards the waves, a bit shocked. But then she turned, walked along, and found a secluded spot further down the coast, where a cluster of palm trees offered dappled shade and the sand was soft and yielding. The rhythmic lull of the waves, the distant cries of seabirds, and the gentle rustle of palm fronds created a hum of tranquility.

Aurelia knelt in the sand, her fingers tracing the intricate patterns etched into the seedpod's golden shell. It pulsed with a subtle energy, a life force waiting to be unleashed.

With a deep breath, she began to dig, her fingers sinking into the cool, damp sand. The earth yielded easily, its embrace welcoming the precious cargo she held. She created a shallow cradle, carefully placing the seedpod within.

As she covered the seed with a layer of sand, a silent prayer formed on her lips. May this seed take root, may it flourish, may it bring light to this world.

She stood, brushing the sand from her hands, her gaze lingering on the unremarkable patch of earth that now held so much potential. A sense of peace settled over her, a quiet confidence in the seed's power and the promise of a brighter future.

As Aurelia rejoined Sunjata, her smile was a mix of warmth and mischief, the lingering unease of the seedpod forgotten for the moment. The sun dipped lower on the horizon, casting a golden hue across the beach, painting their reunion in a soft light.

"So," she began, her voice light and playful, "what secrets have the encantados been whispering to you? Any prophecies of impending doom or rumors of hidden treasure?"

but they can still carry you home
when you're ready to sleep

we keep on doing this again and again
the same old things expecting something different

Content to leave Aurelia to plant the strange golden seed, Sunjata utilizes his magic on the shore to play with the encantados – drawing wave after wave up and down like it’s a little ride for them to navigate, and as they start to figure out the motivations and movements Sunjata supplies, he starts to change tactics here and there. Only when Aurelia’s voice reaches him does he pause, stealing a stream of water and huffing a soft laugh to her playful tone as he turns toward her and lets the water sparkle between his fingertips in the golden light of the sunset, marred with a streak of purple.

“I think they’re cursing me for making the game too hard.” He admits with a slight whisper, flashing a crooked smirk toward her before he shrugs a tattooed shoulder. The smirk fades after a heartbeat of a second as sentimentality creeps in and he scans her face, once again reminded of just how much he’d missed her. Letting the water slip out toward her, the little stream latches onto her wrist and he gives her a small tug with it to try and bring her in for another hug. “So, are you planning on staying here?” He asks quietly, curiously, wondering if she wished to remain in Torchline’s shores or if she’d crave a change of scenery.

He can’t blame her for either. Both Torchline and King’s End had been hard to navigate for the Flood after Nate’s death. It’s what kept him huddled away in the Refuge for years after – apparently getting stronger and stronger without realizing it from the amount of time he’d tried to ignore how the world simply just moved on.

but by now we know it's never gonna change
i'm not trying to complain, i'm just saying it's a waste

Aurelia

and my hands aren't clean
maybe they never will be

Aurelia's eyes followed Sunjata's playful manipulation of the water, a subtle display of power that sent a shiver of awe down her spine. Even in this lighthearted moment, she couldn't help but sense the immense strength that flowed through him, a testament to his transformation into a demigod. Her curiosity piqued, she watched with a playful wariness as he summoned a stream of water into his hand, its shimmering surface reflecting the vibrant colors of the setting sun.

Her playful suspicion turned to surprise as the water suddenly wrapped around her, a gentle yet firm embrace that pulled her closer to Sunjata. A startled yelp escaped her lips, but it quickly dissolved into a soft laugh as she found herself enveloped in another of his warm hugs. Her arms instinctively reached out, finding purchase around his waist, and she leaned into him, a sense of comfort and familiarity washing over her.

When he asked about her plans, she pulled back slightly, her gaze meeting his with a mix of honesty and vulnerability.

"Honestly?" Aurelia began, her voice soft and laced with a touch of vulnerability. "I'm not sure. I hadn't really thought about it beyond coming back here." She looked out at the vast expanse of the ocean, its endless horizon a mirror of her own uncertain future.

"Torchline... it still feels like home, in a way. But so much has changed. Jack wants nothing to do with me, Melita is... well, she's hard to read sometimes but I didn't exactly get a warm welcome," Her voice caught in her throat, the weight of loss pressing down on her, "Milo's gone... Maeve... even you-- my best friend's not there anymore."

She turned back to Sunjata, her eyes shimmering with unshed tears. "I feel... adrift. Untethered. I don't know where I belong anymore."

A fragile silence settled between them, the only sound the rhythmic lapping of the waves against the shore. Aurelia's shoulders slumped slightly, the weight of her confession heavy on her heart.
"But I'm trying, and I'm not giving up," she murmured, trying to find strength in her voice but failing.

but they can still carry you home
when you're ready to sleep

we keep on doing this again and again
the same old things expecting something different

With the looming distaste of the seed pod gone, all he can do is focus on the return of her — it’s what prompts him to tug her in for another embrace, like he’s silently proving to himself once again that she’s actually here, that she’s actually real.

He tilts his head down toward her as she pulls back to answer his question, nodding slightly in understanding — and before his smile is shifting a touch sad. “Well, pretty sure Jack hates me for leaving Torchline still. Mel’s probably the best grudge holder I’ve ever seen in my life. We’ve only recently gotten back to family levels since the whole thing happened.” The war and even before it, where his choices weren’t the best ones but the only ones he thought he could make.

His arms lessen their tight hold and he reaches up to squeeze her shoulders, the steel of his gaze scanning her face and spotting those unshed tears. His warm hand moves to cup the side of her face, a gentle and tender touch that almost seems to say I know the feeling.

“I felt the same.” After the war. “I made King’s End into a liveable space because of it.” He’d made his own section of the world, where he could fit in finally rather than be reminded of the ghosts of everywhere else. “It’ll be shitty but you’ll find your place again.” Blunt and to the point, because he’s been there. He’s done that. And gods, it fucking sucked.

But he’s made it.

but by now we know it's never gonna change
i'm not trying to complain, i'm just saying it's a waste