Chapter Text
It was a good while until that talkative moth returned. They looked much better than the first visit; their clothes were only a little dusty and their cape was intact. They flapped right up to my altar and lit the candles. “Elder? Are you still here?”
“Of course, little one.” I revealed myself from behind a pillar.
The moth immediately launched themself at me. I caught them and hugged them close with a laugh. “Oh my! You seem in much better spirits!”
“Meh. After going through Eden and realizing I can just fly over the boneyard, I’m having an easier time here. Plus, I wanted to see you!”
My Flame dropped. “Child. Did you say Eden?”
“Yup! My guide took me right through! They made it look so easy!”
I shook myself from the shock and set the child down. “Wait. Explain. You mean to say you and other children are going to Eden?”
They dusted off their clothes and nodded. “Everyone does! It’s part of this whole cycle. We collect light, then trek through Eden and give our light to as many husks as possible until we can’t anymore and we fly through this old castle way, way up into orbit and up to the stars! Then we come back! Getting light, extinguishing, and reincarnation. That’s this whole game, right? The cycle?”
My jaw clenched under my helmet. Cycle. A little word that caused me such grief.
I sat on my knees and took a steadying breath. “You children. You go through our realms. You see the ruins and free the husks of lost lights. You see how the darkness has left this land a shell of what it was.
“Then you go to Eden.” My tone lowered. “You willingly go where none of us have returned, to the source of this kingdom’s ruin. You… throw yourselves into that dark beacon and ascend to the stars. Then you fall back down? And you do it again? And you call this a game? ”
The child’s timidity returned. “Uh… well…”
“Have you not thought about how horrific that sounds?”
“It’s…”
“You have tasted death and yet you treat it like an obligation? A task? A game?! ” My voice assumed its booming nature and the child shrank back.
Empty fields of Flameless husks were burned into my mind and haunted my silent moments. My realm, my soldiers, my failure.
I knew what Eden was now. I knew what the king’s sacrificial foolishness had done to it. I dared imagine that hail-torn ruin with scores and scores of little children’s husks….
I felt ill. I covered my face and bowed myself over my knees.
Were these truly the descendants that Resh foretold? That holy fool! He caused the end of our cycle and triggered another for these children. But these children… their cycle seemed so cruel. To die and be reborn again and again, with no option to stay in their rightful starry place, it wounded me to my Flame.
I hadn’t realized how low I’d bowed my head until I heard the child’s hand slide across the scuffed metal of my helm. “Elder…?”
“Why children?” I asked the unhearing stars. “Why the ones most precious? Why could you not have sent us back to serve with the lives you cut short?” I put my fists on the floor and my voice rumbled dangerously. “You drag down the stars, bright and wondrous, and goad them to inglorious sacrifice for the sake of… destiny? In what world, in what cycle is it fair? We could have been their guardians in life, but now we only lead them to death. We push them onward, again and again, time after time, toward death… after death… after death…."
The moth was standing aside and held their arm timidly. I wanted to comfort them, to say I was sorry.
I’m so sorry. I really am just a foolish Elder. I can only be here and grieve for you. How can I call myself an Elder, a protector, when we’ve left you alone to shoulder the burdens of our kingdom?
My head hung low enough for the horns on my helm to touch the floor.
Must I always fail to protect what matters to me? Is that the cycle I must endure?
I felt little arms wrap around my neck. The warmth of a Flame seeped through my armor. Soft brown fabric pressed against my skin.
“Please don’t cry…”
I didn’t realize I had been.
I dared not move. The child was fragile. I didn’t trust my own hands, not with the remaining anger fueling my Flame. “I’m sorry, little one. I’m so sorry.”
“It-”
“I am meant to protect you.”
“I’m okay-”
“Yet I send you toward the very end I fought against, and I didn’t even know.”
“Elder!”
I startled. I didn’t think the child’s voice could reach that volume. Especially when they were right next to my head….
They huffed and hugged my neck a little tighter. “Can I talk now? Can I explain?”
Stars, I’m such a fool! “Yes.” Had I so easily forgotten how to listen? Weeping my state while denying the very reason for it a chance to explain.
Foolish Elder.
The child exhaled and loosened their hold on my neck. Then they pried at my helmet, trying to lift its hinge. On that I stopped them. “Don’t. Please, just… explain.”
They gave me a look that reminded me too much of Teth’s cold stares. She’d never been subtle with her expressions, and she made known the depths of her disproval when I stopped lifting my helm for her.
Stars. Was Teth also in her temple? I never told her I was sorry….
The moth stepped back and sat on their knees in front of me. I straightened up, composing myself and sitting more comfortably. Then I kept silent, waiting for the child to tell their story.
They fidgeted a little before starting. “I… I hadn’t really thought about how it might sound. What happens to us, I mean. Yes, we started off by falling from the stars and yes the landing was a little rough. But we’ve never been purposeless.
“Our lives are not just go to Eden and die then go again, it’s about giving life back to this kingdom. My guide told me the kingdom used to be a lot more… plain. Like, the village we live in used to be empty, but now we’ve got neighbors and nests and places we can talk over a pastry bun.
“What’s more, we remember all of our past lives. To be honest, they don’t even feel like lives, just… continuations. Like Eden was a checkpoint, a reminder of what’s to come, and we go on like normal with all our friends. We’re still technically children, yes, but that doesn’t mean we don’t grow. We remember, we learn, we make mistakes, sometimes we get smacked by a red shard and end up in the void, and I wouldn’t trade that for anything! We come back stronger, wiser, and more connected than ever.
“We’re in a cycle, but we aren’t stuck in it. We’re part of something more than just one life can contain!
“So… so don’t be sad for me! I know why I’m here, and I’m okay with it. We’re doing what we were meant to do, and in the end, we’ll all be together again. That’s what makes this journey beautiful. We never truly lose each other."
The moth was propped up on their knees with their fists held up in front of their chest. A pose of determination. Their eyes were bright and their Flame burned strong.
I was stunned.
I exhaled with amusement. “Such wisdom.”
Their eyes widened and they made a little noise like a flute while swaying their head bashfully. “Oh, uh… thanks. Honestly, I stole a lot of that from my bird friends.”
I chuckled. “Then they are wise for sharing their words with you.” Inhaling slowly, I lifted my helm a little and rubbed previous emotions from my face. I could tell the moth was trying to catch a glimpse, but my hands covered what the edges of my helm didn’t.
I lowered my helm again and then held out a hand to the moth. They grabbed my fingers and I lifted them. Their feet dangled as they hung from my hand. I smiled at their antics and turned my hand over to settle them across the back and give them a surface to rest on. They giggled and stood just above my wrist, light as a butterfly.
“Thank you for your comfort, little moth,” I said. “You’ve done much to calm my grief, though I may forever wish you were allowed a better destiny.”
“Maybe someday we will!” The moth’s little feet tiptoed across the space allowed across the back of my hand. “This kingdom is already changing so much. So many more kids and spirits and even creatures! We’re learning more, too! There’s more memories and history and whole new places to go. We’re like archeologists!”
I tilted my head and smiled. “Little archeologists to better see the little details.”
“Hey!” The moth stamped their foot. “We’re not that small! We are reasonably sized! You’re the ones who are gigantic. All you elders are!”
I laughed aloud at that. I’d seen children of all sizes. Some were nearly as tall as adults, and others barely bigger than their red heart candles.
“Why are all you elders so big?”
“Ah. That, I’m afraid, is a long story.” I patted the child’s head with a fingertip. “One I will save for another time.”
The child whined. “Come on! You’re the only elder who actually talks to me! And I don’t wanna go yet!”
“You speak with the other elders?”
They sat down and pouted. “Not really. I talk at them but they never respond!”
My mind went to Teth. “Have you… spoken to the… um… well, she’s a blacksmith. Tall, long hair—”
“Forest mom!” chirped the child, hopping to their feet.
I choked on my voice. “Excuse me?”
“A lot of kids like to visit her. She’s kinda rude, though. I tried talking to her but she yelled at me, all ‘Give me the flame! My diamond is broken!’.” They crossed their arms and pouted again, squeaking indignantly. “Didn’t even say thanks. Just put it back together and sent it off.” They then stood akimbo. “Whoever Tsadi is, they better be important enough for her to send them so many diamonds.”
My Flame lurched. “She’s been sending diamonds? You’re sure she’s sent them to Tsadi?”
“Yes?” The child tilted their head at me. “At least, I think that’s what she said. Last time I saw her, she sent the diamond up and didn’t kick me out right away. I heard her say something like ‘Where are you Tsadi?’ then hecking blinded me on my way out of her space.”
The child suddenly felt heavy on my hand. I lowered my arm and they floated to the floor while I stood up and turned away, staggering to one of the pillars and leaning against it. My shoulders heaved and I slipped my hand under my helm to stifle myself. This time I was all too aware of tears in my eyes.
“Elder?”
I muttered behind my hand. The child voiced confusion so I repeated. “I am Tsadi.”
They gasped, then looked confused. “You have names?”
My hand went from my face to my chest. My Flame felt too hot and my armor too tight.
All this time, she’d been trying to send me messages? I’d long since lost my message stone. I wasn’t sure if any stones could find my temple in the rolling darkness that blanketed my realm. Did Teth know what my realm had become? Did she know how bad the storms had gotten? I never knew how soon she perished after the Shattering….
“Elder… uh… Tsadi?”
I turned to the child. Dozens of thoughts flickered through my mind.
The child climbed a dune closer to me. “I can go to her again. I can tell her about you! I promise I can!”
“Would you?” I stepped up to them and knelt. “Would you tell her about me? It’s been so long, there’s so much I want to know!”
The child got up on their toes and nodded. “Of course! What do you want me to tell her?”
At this I went silent. There were so many things I wanted to say to her. I wanted to say that I missed her, that she was right, and that my shield was still intact. But most of all, I had to tell her… “Tell her I am sorry.”
The child’s expression fell a little. “What are you sorry for?”
I sighed. “Many things. But she will know what.”
They seemed displeased at my vague reply but didn’t press. They ruffled out their cape and gave me a little salute. “Alright! I’ll fly right there right now!”
My helm lifted with a smile. “You are immensely kind, little one. I’m so thankful. Truly, this means more than you know.”
“Hug?” The child spread their arms out wide. I scooped them to my shoulder and pressed them against me. Their little arms wrapped around my neck and they honked softly.
I let them go and they knelt down. “I’ll be right back!” they promised. Then they vanished.
I needed to sit down. I went back to the pillar and sat heavily against it, letting my head lean back with a dull metallic thud.
I stared at the rolling clouds through the gap in the ceiling.
Teth was out there. She was awake and stuck in her temple, just like me. She was trying to reach me. After all this time, after everything, she was still trying to reach me.
Megabird as my witness, I didn’t deserve her. This foolish old soldier didn’t deserve that elegant crafter. I still don’t. But she chose me and I her. Through our angers and responsibilities and sacrifices and stealing away moments to ourselves, we kept coming back to each other.
Even when I stopped lifting my helm to let her see my face and comfort me with those feather-light kisses….
I sighed heavily. My Flame felt dim, like it was seeking another source of fuel.
Teth was out there. In her temple just two realms away. So close yet out of reach.
I touched my helm. I don’t remember the last time I took it off or even opened its hinged faceplate.
I lifted it a little. Unhindered air hit my jaw and mouth.
Then the entry gate sent a low echo reverberating through the walls and shifting the topmost layer of sand.
My helm retook its place and I vanished into the depths of my temple. There I waited for the moth to return.