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“Sister, look at this—look what I found!”
A younger Kakavasha proudly ran to home. To a familiar presence. A warm presence that felt like rays of sunlight wrapping around him—of flowing blonde hair. One of calloused hands created not by choice, but by the discrimination they adapted to endure. The position of caring for a little boy that should’ve been in arms she missed.
She sharply turned to him—their matching eyes reflecting in each others. She ran to him—fell to her knees, and grabbed him by the shoulders.
”Kakavasha—what have I told you about running off!? Don’t you understand—it’s dangerous! You could get caught in a storm, in the sand—or by those bloodthirsty Katicans-“
Kakavasha went quiet only a moment, before proudly beaming—showing off the necklace he found. Surely, he could fix Big Sis’ upset with his success.
“But—look! I found mama’s-“ He was promptly cut off, Big Sis wrapping her arms around him, holding his small head to her collarbone. What that was made all too thin because of sacrifice.
“Kakavasha—I don’t want you risking your life away for jewelry. You are all I have left, do you understand..? I couldn’t…” Kakavasha knew-even then, he read silence better than he did words. He knew all she was trying to convey with her fingers pressing his small body closer, her honey hair falling around him. Like a tide, drowning the two in their grief. Her tears trailing through the golden strands of his hair, like morning dew through petals and grass.
Big Sis and Mama both said it rained when he was born. That it meant he was blessed. Beloved by the shimmering auroras and Gaiathara above…but did it really? As he felt the wet of the despair leaving his sister, he wondered. Wondered if the rain was the product of the sky grieving. Maybe deities felt their own guilt-ridden grief too.
Maybe no one truly understood what it conveyed. Because Kakavasha certainly knew that all it brought was misery upon himself and his family.
—————————————————
Aventurine was sat in the bounds of his grandiose office. That’s all he ever seemed to be in. Bounds. Binds. Confinements. Ever since this new life he found himself in a mere couple of weeks ago…his thoughts couldn’t help but drift to her. To Big Sis. His thoughts…they worked so, so much like the tides of the tears his sister shed, those years ago. Filled with despair and memory neither asked for.
He looked to the very polished, very pristine surface of his new desk. ‘His’…what a concept. To have something that was his. Belonging to him. On Sigonia, having even scraps you could call yours was a privilege. But now—now many things were his own. Or so he was told. In a way, maybe it wasn’t truly ’his’ at all. It certainly didn’t belong to Kakavasha.
It didn’t belong to that small boy, with nothing but the light in his eyes, a small tent, and the only family he had left. But really…those ‘things’ weren’t his either. Not really. Big Sis was her own person. That tent—it was their Mothers, their Fathers. ‘His’ eyes were anything but his own. They were Gaithara’s supposed sign of favor. They were sister’s reassurance he had awakened to see another day. They were his ‘Masters’ to ogle at. They were the IPC’s to put to use. To profit.
Nothing was his own. To be honest, he wasn’t entirely sure his body was, either. He wasn’t in physical binds with wandering, cruel eyes after him anymore, sure. Instead he was in a golden cage. His hands were free to wander, but his body could not. He was still trapped, but in an illusion of autonomy. He still belonged somewhere—had belonged to a lot of somewheres. But none of them were where he wanted. He was owned but never wanted. Admired—through green eyes and lust—but never cherished. Not since Sigonia.
He had finished—mmh, roughly halfway he’d say, through a report Jade had asked of him—when a knock could be heard from the—honestly, very overdone double doors of…’his’ office. Already, he was hardly in the mood to entertain, his head aching from memories he didn’t want and exhaustion.
”Mr. Aventurine, may I enter?” An unfamiliar female voice. He, admittedly, had to get used to the concept of people asking permission. He’d only ever been taken from. Invaded, violated…it never used to matter what he wanted. But now he had walls with more respect than there was to him, and social norms people only now adhered to with him. All because he was deemed someone.
”Come on in.” He could only hope that sounded like the words of someone who felt they could fill a space. The confidence of one.
Only the left side was pushed open, and in entered a woman he had only known in remarks and gossip for the past two weeks. A superficial stream of words.
He glanced to her, than back to the report on ‘his’ desk. A woman with flowing blonde hair…
Pearl. An ‘enigma’—is what he believed Jade had said. A woman made from nothing but machinery and technology, but a heart softer than the hollow smiles of every executive, and a soul with more depth than the steepest investments. A paradox, a contradiction.
Although, Aventurine was certain she was not the most peculiar coworker he’s been introduced to.
First, there was Madam Jade herself. He supposes she isn’t…the worst superior. Everything from her comes with a price-but, isn’t that true to the fundamental laws of this universe? Nothing seemed be given without being stolen from, first.
Then there was Opal. At first, he thought Jade was playing some elaborate prank on him, when meeting the…much shorter man. He didn’t have much to say about him—and considering how that interaction went, it would seem the multi-hued hair colored man didn’t either. All Opal bothered to do was look Aventurine up and down, from head to shoes…at least 5 times. He then only eyed Jade, with an expression Aventurine couldn’t read for the life of him—and walked away. He hasn’t seen him since.
Shortly after, he had the absolute disgrace and unfortune of meeting the ever-proud Sugilite. He did not—even in the slightest, desire to recall that absolutely unpleasant meeting with the most arrogant ass he’s ever met. He hoped to have as few interactions with that—’man’ as much as possible. Which an ever-unenthusiastic Jade got to hear about her entire walk from her office to his.
Jade had told him that she didn’t expect he’d hear from Amber or Sapphire, due to both stonehearts being rather…antisocial. Preferring to keep to themselves with very specific exceptions. She also mentioned that Agate was presumed long dead, and that another slot of this illustrious ring was yet to be filled—but she had the perfect candidate. One he could tell she was very confident in. It was later on that she also warned that avoiding Obsidian would be in his best interest. It was entirely ominous—and her tone was slightly tensed in a way that he hadn’t heard from the lilac haired woman since meeting her.
”Ah—and one last.” Jade turned to him, just as they arrived to his office doors. “There’s also Madam Pearl. She is…a very special stoneheart. But not in the way you might think, child.”
That entire interaction and catalogue of ‘his’ new colleagues had been over a week ago—a mere couple of days after he’d been given this position on nothing more than a bet.
Even though he’s heard of her—from Jade, from the spilled words of lurking S.I.D employees, to the few photos he’s seen from portraits, to profiles, reports…he’s only had an idea of her.
But, he of all people would know the dangers of believing you know someone from ideas.
”Mr. Aventurine, I hope you don’t mind my visit. I thought i’d stop by. It is a courtesy to introduce oneself to newcomers, and to be of assistance.”
Aventurine finally looked at her. Directly at her—not a simple glance that lasted a second.
And for a moment, ‘his’ very heart stopped.
For one fleeting moment, he could swear he thought a familiar veil of honey blonde hair—of a presence he once knew—
—had crawled back from her very grave. One of sand, a coarse wrath.
But a moment is only that. A moment.
Upon meeting the Madams eyes, he was pulled from the tides of delusion and fleeting hope—back to reality.
And reality said ‘his’ sister was dead, and eyes reflecting back in his were no more. …Wasn’t she?
Pearl must’ve somehow sensed his momentary distress—as she had crossed from the doors to standing right in front of him in an instant.
Her cold yet pale-flesh colored hands—that Aventurine could only guess were a further design mockup to make her look and feel more personal—now hovered over ‘his’ own arms. “Mr. Aventurine, are you feeling ill?”
After her sea blue eyes (that had a very faint, but certainly present whirring sound) analyzed ‘his’ form, she pressed her lips in a thin line, tilting her head to the side.
“…You’re rather emaciated. Is this the cause of your temperature..? Or, perhaps your sluggish movements?” Aventurine now looked at her in utter confusion and surprise. How did she know any of that—? He was certain ‘his’ coat did well enough to cover his body—and he wasn’t—well…maybe it was a little warm in the room, but how did she know any of that without even touching him!?
“How did—em-emaciated—?” Was all he could get out before she straightened him up by ‘his’ shoulders, and sighed. “Yes, Mr. Aventurine. Are you unaware of your own physical state..? That is rather dangerous. I can see through the spade decal on your shirt that there is lack of muscle required for a healthy male of your age. Also, your arms are quite narrow. Atop that, your face lacks much of the fat most people have. Are you not taking care of yourself?” He was utterly exasperated.
”Madam, of course I—“
”Your body requires consistent care and—“
“I’m aware it—“
“You’re always free to have aliment delivered, after all this is your—“
”It’s not mine.”
A long pause. That one sentence—those mere three words, that tide—causes what might be the first contortion of…aching sadness, that somehow filled the Madams face.
“…Mr. Aventurine, I fail to see why this wouldn’t be yours.”
They both look at each other, for another moment, and both seem to have an understanding of what the other feels. Aventurine has, after all, always read silence better than words.
Pearl shifts to lean against his desk, her false flesh fingers were…fidgeting. She was the most quiet she’s been this entire conversation.
“…I cannot deny that…” Her eyes looked drowned in familiar depths of despair.
Pearl looked at her fingers, her hands, as she now held her palms up, facing the ceiling.
He knows the expression on her face. It’s one he’s seen reflected back at him many times. In mirrors, matching eyes, others he once knew, with brands and binds of their own.
A realization of…feeling you aren’t your own. And you haven’t been; for a long, long time.
”…I understand how you feel, Mr. Aventurine.
”…Madam…”
Her blue hues met ‘his’ cyan and magenta.
A smile spread through her lips.
She placed her false flesh over ‘his’ gloved hand.
Two who wished their hands were the others.
Maybe then ‘his’ would finally feel clean. Fresh. Cleansed.
Pure.
“Yet…Mr. Aventurine…though I am no human, lacking of heart and soul…something that seems to keep all of you running until you cannot…although I am nothing but painted and veiled machinations…”
She stands back straight up, posture promptly corrected, both her hands atop his—as if she wants her following words to be truly heard.
“I am myself. Just as you are you. It matters not, if—“
She lifts her right hand, gently motioning exactly where the organ beats.
He couldn’t hear what she said next, although her lips were certainly moving.
—————————————————
”Kakavasha—look at me—“ The sky above was as dark as the diamond pupils they shared.
He couldn’t meet Big Sis’ eyes. He couldn’t believe it—she was going to part ways with him—all for the smallest, most fleeting shot at hope—
”…’Vasha, please—!” Big Sis pulled him forward by the shoulders—seeming shocked for a moment by her intrusive action—then continued her waves of pleading, her voice straining. As Kakavasha saw her face from the corner of his eye, it was hard to tell if she was crying, or if it were the rain that refused to give out.
It was once again only showing up to witness Kakavasha’s devastation. The tides of misery once again come to witness him drown.
Even then he wished they would finally fill his lungs take him. He’d finally be filled with something that was his own. The misery he only brought reigning down upon everyone he loved. Everyone and everything in his path sunk until it breathed life no more. Some blessing he turned out to be.
Big Sis pulled him to her collarbone once more, and it was under the all too warm and familiar veil of her honey blonde hair, that he felt water run through his hair that he knew didn’t belong to the clouds.
”Kakavasha…this is where we must go our separate ways, I..” A pause, another strike of grief. “..I am doing this for you, ok? Please…please understand that…” Her sadness continued to trail down his hair, to his face. It was very quickly he realized it was becoming more and more difficult to distinguish between the differing sorrows; of the sky, of Sister…and of him.
”I am not abandoning you—by Gaiathara above, I would never, but—“ She cupped his small face. She tilted his head up to meet her eyes…the last time he would ever see them.
And all Kakavasha saw was love that was so much it was agonizing.
“…’Vasha, I…I want you to have a future. That’s…all i’ve ever wanted for you—“ Her thumbs wiped away his small tears. “—is to have something that is your own. A future that is your own. You don’t deserve any of this. Not remnants of a broken tribe that was never going to hold on forever.”
He never heard her sound so defeated before. Not even when Mama died. As if admitting to herself. She was in utter heartbreak, to say for the first time aloud, that this was always going to happen.
She quickly threaded her fingers through his drenched hair, kissing his head. As if she were running out of time.
”Kakavasha—give me your palm.”
She forced a smile on her face.
Kakavasha lifted his shaking small hand, his smaller fingers barely meeting the lower joints of her fingers that met her palm.
"May the Mother Goddess thrice close her eyes for you..k-keeping your blood eternally pulsing. May your journey be forever peaceful and your schemes—forever concealed.”
Sister let out another sob, and kissed both of his eyes. She squeezed his hand, droplets meeting and falling to the sand beneath them.
She quickly ripped the earring she wore off—the blue gemstone droplet that held 3 feathers to it. She squeezed it inbetween his two little hands.
”Kakavasha—I want you to have this—it was Mama’s, and then it was mine..I-I am now giving it to you—so you can always, always remember—promise me-“ She paid no attention to the blood that trickled down her neck, her one and only sole focus was the trembling child in her arms.
“—promise me, that once you’re out of here—that once you’re finally safe, you will wear this and only remember the family that loves you so, so much. Promise me—that you will feel it and recall Papa, Mama and me.” Her fingers traced the three feathers individually. “And will remember we love you because you are you, ‘Vasha—you, have been a blessing to this family since you were born—and not because it was the day of Kakava—not because it rained—because you are our family, and you spread happiness everywhere you stepped-“
She—with a wretched sob that strained her throat, pushed him away.
”Kakavasha—I…I only ask one thing of you..”
He was shivering from the cold downpour, from the tremors caused by his distress.
“I ask you never feel guilty for living—for filling up others lives—I am asking you to be selfish—and to know you belong wherever your heart lies.”
She placed her palm against his beating heart. His fingers grab her wrist. She pushes him back, his body lands like a wave that met the shore. He falls, landing facing up.
He gasps, his tiny body writhing, her goodbye hurting so much it pained physically.
He finally stands, and looks. Big Sis is gone.
He gasps, his head whirring in every direction—and it lands in the way of the one he was encompassed to.
The sun shone gentle light upon him. Run.
It was time to run where the light was. The warm radiant presence that felt familiar.
—————————————————
Aventurine gasped as a cold chill held ‘his’ face, and pulled him close.
“Mr. Aventurine—are you there—?”
He tried to breathe. He was shaking. Why was he shaking..?
As he trued to refocus ‘his’ gaze, ‘his’ eyes noticed the outer blue hues of the girl in front of him…her hair…
He couldn’t believe it.
”S-sister—?”
She tilted her head. “…Mr. Aven—“
”Y-you came back—you’re ok—“ He wrapped his arms around her, allowing tears to drip down his face to her shoulder. She let out a small sound of surprise. His body was shaking with relief—with happiness, and grief-
Big Sis hadn’t hugged him back—hadn’t said anything in return.
”…Sister..?” Why wasn’t she moving—breathing—saying anything—was this nothing more than a dream that would soon rake through his heart with reality once more—?
’Sister’ gently pulled back, her eyes thinning as she looked intensely at the left side of ‘his’ neck. ‘His’ hair was out of the way, ‘his’ collar pulled down. And she kept her focus on the now revealed brand.
”…Where did you get this?”
’His’ throat went drier than the desserts of Sigonia.
”It’s…”
—————————————————
Burning sensations against ‘his’ neck…
The smell of burnt flesh…
The feeling of hands…hands…
Hands everywhere—
Hands that weren’t wanted. Hands that wouldn’t LEAVE—
Burning flesh…burning…
Hands…voices…angry voices…
A voice.
Something…pulling him from the depths…
Hands.
”Aventurine, breathe!”
He gasped.
Hands rubbed up and down ‘his’ arms.
But…they didn’t feel like Sisters..?
These were..colder..?
Sister wasn’t…
He looked up, meeting concerned, furrowed eyes…that weren’t a cyan and pink…but rather blue.
And yet…as foreign as they were, the…essence was familiar. No, it…the depths were familiar.
”Aven…turine..?”
He couldn’t recognize his voice.
”…I must thoroughly apologize, Mr. Aventurine…I had not expected to catch you so ‘out of tune’ when I sought you.”
Aventurine blinked a few times, busied his left hand on ‘adjusting’ his right sleeve.
”…’S…not your fault at all, Madam.”
Pearl stilled a few moments, seemingly thinking…calculating?
”May I, as a form of both congratulations and apology, as a form on conferment, supply you with lunch?” Pearl stepped away, affording him space she could discern he needed, while holding his gaze.
Aventurine blinked at her a few times—in both slight surprise and confusion. In recovering from all he recalled and that she didn’t seem to hold it against him. Wasn’t mocking him.
”Madam…there’s no need for apology—“ Pearl shook her head, holding up her hand firmly yet politely, to quiet him. “If I were to gift it with only the former reason, will you accept?”
Upon realizing she would continue unless he conceded, he did end up acquiescing to her request…or ‘gift’ of sorts.
”Thank you, then.” The elegant lady nodded. Turning back towards the door, presumably returning to her own office.
”Ah—and, Mr. Aventurine?” She turned, right as she neared the unnecessarily grandiose double doors.
He looked to her again. “Mmh?”
“I look forward to what you do with this place in the future. What spaces you will fill, and all that you accomplish that will be yours.”
He didn’t have any words for her, beyond the slightest smile.
His future had many stakes and bets ahead yet.
But now, victory would be his own. After all, any goals from here were limitless, but he especially held tight to one.
To learn to ascend suffocation two children in a desert shouldn’t have known.