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“You can’t stay here, it’ll destroy you.” Shorekeeper says, her voice shaky. Here she laid in her abode, where destruction was inevitable. As a guardian of the Black Shores, she was doomed to die, doomed to sacrifice - so why were you making this so difficult? If she had realised her overwhelming feelings of want, love and affection for the ‘you’ in another timeline, perhaps she could’ve stopped everything from happening. She failed once, she can’t fail again.
A lonely girl who treks the lands wrecked by lament alone, crosses paths with the one doomed to save a falling world - she remembers the facts you’ve unravelled like a manuscript, the way you opened her eyes into a new way of living - maybe she was dreaming, but she soon made her way of living to be about you.
And when you’re sitting at that grand piano in the tiny island where no tacet discords ran their way, playing a tune that calmed all of the world’s chaos - Shorekeeper kept that in her memory - years and years threaded together.
“Would you like me to teach you?” You ask. The girl who dons a veil looks up at you in surprise, face in a flush. You’ve met her on separate occasions, saving each other's lives from the chaos that happened time and time again. The world wasn’t stable, nor was the port of Guixu - where destruction manifested initially. She called herself the Shorekeeper, destined guardian of the Black Shores. You were affiliated with the Black Shores for a while, being their mercenary. You’ve never dealt with her during your errands with the Black Shores, but you figured she had her data on you.
The girl smiles, nodding. You gesture to the empty space beside you, and she sits down next to you.
You start to play a tune, familiarity streaming through her veins. It’s short, yet it lingers in her eardrums like an endless chorus. She can’t comprehend the waterfall of emotions she feels watching you run your fingers on the keys so delicately, the way your spectro-gold eyes gloss over every inch of the piano like an artefact. And when you teach her how to play your tune, she’s sitting with your hand over hers, moving in sync with the sound of your voice hovering over hers.
The melody tugs at one’s heartstrings, ripping any bit of mortality apart. She smiles, looks up at you with admiration and you try not to choke on your words. She was beautiful - breathtaking, her eyes swirled colours of azure, just like how your world’s milky way should’ve been. If you stare for too long, you swear you’d be dragged into another dimension all together - so you avert your gaze in embarrassment.
“Thank you for teaching me, Rover.”
“You knew my name?”
She laughs again, leaning closer to you, her breath tickling your ear. With one sigh, she lets out a confession she’s been hiding.
“I’ve been with you for your entire journey, watching over you. I’m the Guardian of the Black Shores, Rover. My job is to protect you. That’s my only wish.” She admits - and you feel a tug on your arm.
Her hands reach for yours, intertwining them. They’re cold - though the scorching heat from your palms warms them up in an instant.
“May you always stay safe, Rover. Safe travels.”
And the girl is gone, and so are you.
You’re here again, at the same exact spot you were light years ago - according to Shorekeeper’s recollection. You don’t remember her, nor the significance of both of you - all you remember is that familiar tune dancing around the both of you - one that resonated from the piano she’s playing.
“That tune seems familiar.”
“You taught me.”
“I did? I don’t have any recollection…”
She chuckles, waving a hand that prompts you to come closer to her.
“I’ll teach you, like how you taught me back then.”
You shudder at her offer, sitting down next to her at the piano. She moves a finger, so delicately across the keys - playing the familiar tune you’ve mastered for your entire life - back to your ears. The clashing memory floods your brain, though no remnants piece together. Grabbing your hand tightly against hers, she guides you to play the same melody - her hands are cold, like the lands you’ve traversed on your way to save her.
She ends off the laminating chorus with a gentle touch of the last key, it’s sound delicate like nova flowers hitting the sea. A parade of butterflies flutter around you like a serenade, luminating a soft blue glow.
Then she takes your hand, pulling you into her - her embrace cold yet worthy of a thousand words. She smiles when you hold her gaze, drowning into a slumber her eyes hosted.
When you feel her lips on yours, the pit of your stomach burns with passion - and somehow you remember, subtle remnants of what had manifested in the past. You remember fog, endless fire that took over every single building, the screams of the civilians - their pleads that never got heard, how you fought your way like an innocent child who didn’t know any better.
“We’ll meet again. I promise.” Shorekeeper says, threading her fingers into your hair.
“You said you’d never put anyone in danger.”
“I did, I’ll be fine. Please, you have to leave soon. Black Shores needs their leader.”
Just like pulling your heart out of your chest would hurt - she dives you back into the archipelago - away from her abode where she sleeps for an eternity. You’re lost, though your terminal rings an urgent call from Aalto when you rouse up.
“Rover, think you could make it to the hub? Time for appointing the Chief - I don’t think you’d want to miss that.” Aalto’s reminder snaps you out of that dazed state and thoughts of missing Shorekeeper. You trek through the archipelago, making your way to don the title - one you’re reluctant to take, but one your body has subtle familiarity to.
When you don the title, the system registers you as the chief, much to your amusement. You’re in control of the Black Shores after Shorekeeper’s demise, having saved the corruption. Whilst you’re on the way out of the hub, someone tells you Shorekeeper’s lingering on the overworld, so you scout out to meet her.
There she laid, in the domain you expected, playing that same tune on the grand piano. And when the melody ends, she turns to look at you, a soft smile registering on her face.
“I told you we’ll meet again, Rover.”