the rocks might melt; the sea may burn. || exist

[exist]

while collecting the stars, I connected the dots.
I don’t know who I am, but now I know who I’m not.

During the day, Tephra was beautiful. The land was nestled in the lap of a volcano, drenched in rich greenery from the intense humidity and an endless steam that fell like white lace around the edges of the springs and lava beds. There were fewer trees here than in some of the other places she had visited with Leliana, and so the sky seemed vast and unending, an aching blue that rivaled the oceans lapping at Tephra’s beaches. But the most beautiful part of this land was when night fell, when the sun dipped beneath that stony horizon and darkness rose up to greet them. With oceans on all sides and water to catch and reflect what little light did remain, this was when Tephra truly came alive.

There is a smile on her lips as she climbs out of the ocean, racing the dark so that she can be buried further into the heart of the land when night comes. She is fast, weightless with the new magic that feels like gentle fire thrumming through her veins. It is wholly hers, wholly beautiful, and she can feel it in her chest, in her bones, in the soft whirl of every russet feather along those glorious wings. But there is other magic, too, a magic that is only hers by gift, not by birth, a magic she had poured first into Leliana. It was a giving magic. It had taken hold inside of her sister and, like when it had been given to Exist, she found her sisters traits restored. This other magic burned inside of her, it was hers and it wasn’t, it was good and it wasn’t. So much power, so much responsibility, and it filled her with a wildness, an ache that had lessened just slightly when she poured it into her sister.

Keep giving.

She could hear it whispering inside her chest, timed to the rhythm of her heart and her hooves as she closed the distance between herself and the volcano. Keep giving. Just a hum or an echo, but she knew she would for as long as it roared inside of her.

Breathless and wet, damp with the humidity, damp from her swim back to Tephra, she slows to a stop beneath the deepest shadows of the volcano and lifts her delicate face upwards. “Oh!” It is just a gasp of sound, an echo of the awe that fills her chest. All along the volcano, and even meandering through the plains of Tephra, are glowing veins of red and gold, thin streams of smoldering lava that paint the night like the tails of falling stars. She is about to step away and follow one of the molten paths out into the night again when something hard and heavy collides with the curve of her flank. Surprised, she turns, the uncertainty that had etched itself into the shadows of her copper face smoothed away immediately by the sound of a familiar voice and the face that belonged to it.

“Canaan,” she greets him warmly, touching her nose fleetingly to his cheek, and then, “I know.” She did know, she even understood the way the stars pulled his heart to them in the same way the lava trails sang out to her. They had never really spoken about it, there hadn’t been a need, but it didn’t mean that they hadn't noticed. In fact, his affinity for the universe nestled in silver above their heads had always made her fond of the older boy. It was his peace, his quiet, his weightlessness.

She smiles at him again, a more distant smile as she borrowed one last look up the mountain at the veins of sunset gold, and then turned her green eyes on pale glow of a quiet face the color of cold starlight. “We’re always out late.” She replies pointedly, the corners of her bright eyes crinkling with mischief. But then the breeze rose again, breathing life into the feathers on both of their wings and she froze, wide-eyed, as the magic in her chest roared again. As if she had no say in the matter, those russet wings unfurled to cup the watery starlight, glinting red and bronze in the glow of the nearest lava. “Canaan,” she says breathlessly, restlessly, pushing her forehead against his nose, “something happened to me today.” It is like electricity in her veins, lightning worming through her skin and she aches with it. “Run with me.” Breathless, wild, just the echo of a plea and then she is off.

Exist