Her childhood is a mixture of confusion and blurry memories. She remembers what it is like to watch her mother suddenly filled to the brim with the magma of her magic. She remembers the fear in her father’s eyes, the knowledge that her mother was leaving, and the reconciling in the months to come. She was not born in Tephra but it has become the home of her heart. It is where her family came together again. Where she met with Midnight. Where she grew into a young adult.
There is a sharp pang in her breast when she looks across the water and realizes this.
There is a sharp pain when she realizes youth is ending.
She still feels so painfully young. She feels it like a vice around her throat, feels it like a stone in her chest. Her naivety is a growing, blossoming thing and she cannot deny the pieces of her that would clutch to what is familiar. That would keep her tucked away in Tephra forever.
She smiles when she feels the hip of her brother brush up against her and she reaches over to gently press her mouth there to the bristle of his hair. It is comforting to know that no matter what, her twin is still there. He is steadfast, even when the wildness of his heart carries him far.
After a moment of silence, contemplative and tense, she finally glances up. Her face is open and vulnerable, framed by wisteria and curling locks, with none of her sisters’ suspicion or hardness. She has none of their bitterness or anger. None of their rage.
“If that’s what you think is best, of course.”
She is a serious girl and duty is important.
Family is important.
More important than a childish need to stay young.
And when she looks around at the beautiful beaches unfolding around her, she cannot help but feel that perhaps this, too, could come to feel like home.
as the vale in whose bosom the bright waters meet