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Two figures, one smaller than the other, stared longingly at the setting sun.
The smaller's braid had become loose and tousled. Her shorts were covered in dirt and grime. The taller figure had her leather armour damaged and ripped slightly at the seams.
The waves were calm and a gentle breeze made the trees lining along the beach sway. Orange and purple painted the sky in an enchanting imagery. The soft sand beneath their feet was a comfort from the state of overstimulation.
Their adventuring team had just finally completed a difficult and misgraded commission. What was meant to be a minion enemy based-dungeon raid had turned into an unexpected boss fight right at the very end. Fei had unfortunately gotten an unfortunate swipe from said boss and was now dozing off in a tent beside the two who were admiring the sunset.
Marcella and Ray had opted out of staying and guarding Fei, and instead had gone inside town in search of food for tonight's dinner and tomorrow's breakfast.
The two that had been left behind had droopy eyes to match their exhaustion.
In a strange sense of familiarity, they had found themselves gazing at the setting sun once again. In this subconscious routine the adventuring group had developed for themselves, their missions always ended with the evening sun. No matter how long the duration of the quest was, or if they had zero clue as to what time it was up in the overworld, they always came back to painting-esque skies and a half-sun.
A sudden slightly high pitched voice suddenly made itself known. "Miss Rosetta?"
Rosetta paused for a moment—the pair don't normally talk during times like these, due to a fear of breaking the gentle balance of calmness and peace—before she turned her head towards the child.
"Yes, Little Sun?" A melancholic smile made its way to her face.
"Miss Rosetta." Roxanne repeated as she stared up at the adventurer.
"Roxanne," Rosetta answered.
Roxanne paused to properly form her question before she asked with a tilted head. "Are you like me?"
Rosetta's eyes widened, unsure of what may be the correct answer to a statement like this. She took a deep breath before responding back. "Like how, child?"
"Are you hurt?" Roxanne questioned, pleaded.
"Not right now, no. Sometimes I am." Rosetta's heart ached. She knew what the child beside her wanted but ignorance is bliss, and she wished for Roxanne to be the happiest child.
"I don't mean it that way." Roxanne pouted.
Rosetta took a sharp breath in. "How so?"
"We look the same."
"Do we? Aside from our eyes, I can't see anything else." Rosetta lied straight through her teeth, her eyes locked on the horizon and not the second sun sitting beside her.
There is a lull in the conversation for a moment. Rosetta wondered if that would be the end of it. A few minutes later, Roxanne cut through the silence.
"Do you miss her?" Roxanne asked.
Rosetta shattered. Of course Roxanne would see through her fabrications. She should've known, the half-elf was always a smart child. Rosetta breathed out, and with blurry eyes she choked out. "Always."
"Me too." Roxanne looked away from Rosetta, burying her face into her crossed arms. "I don't remember much of my Mommy."
Rosetta rubbed the tears threatening to make it out of her eyes. "That's fine."
"Is it?"
"Yes."
"Okay."
Silence washed over them once more. Only a sliver of sun was left on the horizon line, which signalled that the other two would be back soon.
"...was your daddy bad too?" Roxanne asked with a small voice.
"He…wasn't. Not at first, he didn't like me after he found out I was like my mom." Rosetta admitted. And in a strange sense of completion, something finally settled in her chest. The simple act of admitting vocally that the man she admired for so long was not a good person was long overdue.
"My daddy didn't like me. I don't know why."
"Sometimes," Rosetta thought back to the night where she lost her only family, when she was denied her right of being a Mallory to only be a Bloom. "Bad people do bad things when they feel like it."
"...Miss Rosetta."
"Roxanne."
"Does—...Does the hurt ever go away?" Roxanne said, practically begging for the correct answer.
"It will take a long time. A very long time. However," Rosetta gestured to the now dark sky. "Time heals all. You see the sunset we saw just now?"
Roxanne nodded.
"No matter how much we're hurt, our world will keep revolving. The sun will always rise and set. The flowers will always bloom and wilt." A sense of nostalgia flowed through Rosetta. She remembered back to her mother's letters. Specifically, Letter 7.
Rosetta had honoured every last wish her mother had left her. And with that, came her mother's love for poetry. As expected, she found her own fondness for metaphors and analogies within the beautiful artform.
She has found that time heals all wounds. No matter if it leaves a scar or the impression of an unfond memory, it shall never appear the same as a fresh cut or bruise.
Even when hearts may burn and the mind screams, the world will keep turning. Spring will always come with fresh blooms, autumn will always come with graceful orange leaves, winter will always come with pure white snow and summer will always come with rays of sunshine.
And isn't that beautiful?
We may hurt, laugh, be euphoric, be in misery and change. As what we were made to do as living beings. And yet, our world does not change for us. The surface may look different then how it did in the past but the core will always be the same, follow the same routine and cycle, have expected reactions and discoveries.
We, as living beings, work in tandem with the world. Like a ship, we progress, improve, move and change, while the world will always be our anchor.
Throughout this whole phenomena, there is one key catalyst for this mutualistic relationship; time.
"Time is such a beautiful yet terrifying thing," Rosetta breathed. "The future is a horrifying fear and the past holds bad memories but I can never deny that the pleasant ones are splendidly breathtaking."
"...Miss Rosetta?"
"Yes, Roxanne?"
"I still don't like him."
"That's fine." A cold breeze flowed through the shore. Rosetta opened her arms in invitation. Roxanne shuffled closer to the taller's side and tucked her head on Rosetta's chest. Rosetta raked one of her hands through her hair.
"...is it?"
Rosetta hummed in confirmation. "I don't like mine either. You'll never see him again anyways so there's nothing to worry about."
A muffled sound came from Rosetta's side. Rosetta turned towards it. "Hm?"
Roxanne repeated in a whisper. "I'm scared."
"Why are you scared, Little Sun?" Rosetta's features softened.
"Sometimes," The child paused for a moment. "Sometimes, Roxanne thinks he isn't gone. That he can find Roxanne."
"Even if he can, you have a wonderful mama to protect you, don't you?"
Roxanne acknowledged the question with a small nod.
"You also have three super cool older siblings and a spooky little ghost-cat that'll make sure he'll never come within five feet of you. " Rosetta reassured her.
Roxanne looked up from her space beside Rosetta. "Promise?"
"Promise, from every daybreak to every lustrous moon." Rosetta confirmed.
Roxanne tucked her head back into Rosetta's side, the tips of her sharpened ears dusted with a slight red. "Thank you."
"Anytime, Little Sun." Rosetta grinned, tightening her grip on the child.
Two figures stared at the rising moon. Two sides of the same coin relishing in the beauty of change and time. Forever solidifying their solidarity to one another.