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Chapter Text

Aventurine had forgotten or left behind most of the Avgins' observances. But on each Kakava, he would bring down gems, silk, and gold thread, and craft a knot from half-remembered patterns and muscle memory.

He would let himself remember his sister's praise for his nimble fingers, the simple joy of discovering a meteorite in the golden sands — and muse on the ease of buying "real Sigonian turquoise!" thanks to the Sovereignty's deference to the IPC.

Then he would consign it to the flame — a feeble shadow of his childhood bonfires, but enough to glimpse the aurora's brilliance in its light.