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Yellow and green. Yellow and green. Those two colors flood your vision as you move through the hedge maze you've been stuck in for... only the Swords know how long. You walk and walk, the grass crunching and scraping ceaselessly under your feet, yet you see no sign of Shuriken, of Slingshot, of Scythe, or of your home.
Home. You miss home. You miss everyone. You wanted to ask Scythe if she could teach you how to dance the next time you saw her, but you can't find her. You can't find home, you can't find her, and you can't find anyone in these yellow chrysanthemum fields.
You're lost. Normally, you would be able to make it out of here on your own; you're a perfectly grown, capable, and independent inphernal, aren't you? Yet, you can't help but feel like you've been forgotten. You wouldn't have been here in the first place if anyone remembered an outcast like you.
In that case, why does it matter? Why does it matter if you make it out of this maddening place that forces you to trample such beautiful flowers only to pass more and more indistinguishable walls of green if there's nobody waiting for you on the other side?
The realization makes you want to give up... and you do. Arms spread, your body, weightless, falls backwards into the sea of grass below, the fabric of your clothes brushing against the petals of the chrysanthemums as you land.
You lie there, flowers half-burying you while you wait. Wait for everyone, wait for remembrance. That is all you're fit for.
You wait. The cloudless sky begins to dim and fade into orange dusk.
You wait. You wonder if anyone else is, too.
You wait. The delicate chrysanthemums caress your skin as they wait with you.
You wait. You wait for a long,
long,
long,
long time.
Despite your restlessness, everything is peaceful.
Everything is beautiful, and everything matters.
And, finally, a night sky, devoid of the moon yet dotted with shining stars, falls and paints the beauty in a deep hue of darkness. Though even amidst the shade, you realize that the petals adorning the fields have changed color. Some are a lovely dark yet illuminated purple, while others are a dark green bordering the teal of the one you long for. Your hand grazes the chrysanthemums of the same color as your newfound gloves in awe. You're finding familiarity where you didn't expect to.
You miss her. You miss everyone you love, and now you're sure they miss you, too. You need to find them. You need to get going.
Pushing yourself up, you see that the green barriers have disappeared. They've given way to a pristine gazebo, warm, orange candlelight being cast from its floor onto its polished surfaces as it stands tall above you and the lilies of the valley that surround it.
The beautiful structure feels imposing, as if it's trying to drive someone of your caliber away, but you want to know everything that's beautiful. Curiosity gets the better of you, and you walk towards what you desire, sincerely hoping for acceptance,
just as you always have been.
Brushing past the lilies, you enter the gazebo, your footsteps echoing through the open space. A white cloth is draped over a table fit for two; two candles lit and two seats across from each other. Past the petite table is something reflecting the stars above and...
...You? Unlike your usual preference of pink, your reflection in the mirror wears dark green attire and a hat, fit for a time that has long passed. She's holding hands with a being dressed in purple, who reflects the stars more than the reflection she's a part of. You walk closer to the mirror.
That being inside... her horns look like Scythe, yet nothing else about her does. The white dress is uncharacteristic, and the purple, starry hood is uncharacteristic, too. She's too ethereal, too otherworldly-
You fall. The you in the mirror does, to be exact. Her grip on Scythe's hands faltered, and momentum carried her to the side as she tripped on her own heels. Still, Scythe reaches her hand out towards the green-clad inphernal, interlacing their fingers together and picking her back up.
They go back to their dance, they do try, but it's not beautiful. It's nothing either of you would want.
Fit for being outcast, your reflection steps on the heels of Scythe as the two struggle to remain close. The black sky above you brightens ever so slightly.
Fit for nothing good, the two let go of each other and step back. Yet, even on their own, they stumble and trip where they shouldn't, too used to each other's company. The sky above you shifts into a rich teal and purple that feels unfortunately familiar. They aren't your colors, not even hers.
Fit for failure, they reconvene, but nobody expects anything to come out of it. The two struggle to stay upright at every step, and once Scythe spins your reflection around, she falls once more, her cursed arm splintering. It'll just regenerate the crack and grow bigger—you know from experience. The sky mocks you both, and so does everyone else.
You fall, too. On your knees, you stare at the horrifying, stilled reflection of everyone's expectations crushing the two of you. The stars above begin to dim, much like your waning hope. Why does it hurt so much when you've been used to being alone for so much of your life?
No, you know why. Love has made you defenseless, and now the blood spilled from her body feels like it spills from you, too. You hate this; you hate how love makes you feel while making you crave more. It was just you who wanted Scythe to love Vine Staff. Nobody else wanted you to be together.
You look away from the wretched mirror and up at the tainted sky. The faint stars are the only thing left to comfort you, as even the chrysanthemums and lilies of the valley surrounding the gazebo feel like painful memories. There are better, more fond memories in the constellation that has formed above...
...It's almost too comforting. You know that constellation; you love that constellation. It's her, it has to be. The moon-shaped left eye, the freckles, and the crystals aren't what you remember, but, somehow, you still recognize those guiding stars as uniquely belonging to the one you love.
And love's consumed you whole already, so in search of the only one who can provide you with defense, you raise your cursed hand, your gloved fingers reaching out towards the constellation.
And, knowing that at least She will accept you when no one else will, you pull Her in.
Scythe, steadying herself after your sudden summoning, stands in front of your kneeling form, shock written all over her beautiful, celestial face. Still, she's waiting to hear from you, hear your hopeless voice and be the hope you need. It's because she loves you, too.
"Stay with me," you beg, breathless and broken from all the tears you've refused to let taint the gazebo's pristine floor until now. "Please."
A crack resounds through the open air.
And another,
and once more another,
until the mirror behind Scythe explodes into tiny shards. The fragments rush towards you, their sharp edges pointed at your eyes,
until they stop, dropping out of the air and scattering across the floor around you two.
And then, Scythe's right hand, made up of burning hot stars that still cling to solid life, envelops your gloved, wooden hand painlessly. Like liquid, it spreads around to further wrap your hand in its embrace. It's warmth in its best form: hers. How wonderful that you're able to feel it now.
She gently lifts up your hand, beckoning you to stand in front of her. You know exactly why, because it's something you've always wanted to do with her.
With her help, with the love she's given you, you're finally on your feet again, looking into her expectant eyes with expectations of your own. You'll both meet each other's; you'll both exceed them.
Her other hand's fingers intertwine with yours, the two of you outstretching your arms to the side. And, before you could realize it, your wooden hand had moved to hold onto her forearm. The cosmic warmth radiating from her hand comes to rest on your back, right under your shoulder, holding you steady.
Then, with a patient smile, she takes a step to the left, her heel cracking one of the shards that lay beneath her. You do the same as her, adding another sharp sound to the growing symphony of shattering shards.
Both of you continue with your simple steps. When there's no more room to move left, you two move right together. When you feel ready, you allow Scythe to raise your joined hands and elegantly spin you before bringing you back into her arms. When the shattering symphony taking place below you feels as though it has grown into an orchestra, the world's expectations of you both feel as though they've been crushed and forgotten; they no longer matter. Scythe loves you, you've long ago found reason to love her for it, and that's enough for you to love yourself.
Amidst the most beautiful, liberating harmony to bless your ears, your waltz inspires the flowers hidden beneath the fractured glass to sprout from the gazebo's floor, and they bloom into their own beautiful shades of yellow, white, purple, green, and every other color you've ever loved and still love. The lilies and chrysanthemums inspire the very gazebo you two synchronize in to show itself to the world without fear, and its ceiling parts to reveal the moonless sky, once more shimmering with newly spawned stars that brighten at the sight of you and Scythe. Your own smile grows; so too do the flowers grow, so too do the stars glow.
It's perfect. Every time a shard of glass gets broken into smaller shards and further litters the once-pristine floor, every time your heel gets caught on one only for Scythe to catch you before you fall, every time you hesitate for a moment to look at the flowers and are almost left behind by Scythe only for her to slow down for you... It's all still perfect. It's all beautiful, it all matters, all because it's with her; it's with someone who accepts everything, who accepts you, and who never pulls away or leaves your side for as long as you need support. It's with someone you love.
It's fit for love. It's fit for two. It's beautiful.
But your back hits the table. The sudden interruption leaves you reeling while Scythe holds you by the waist to stabilize you. For a few moments...
...You just stand there. Not looking towards the flowers that have halted in their growth, not looking towards the stars that have stilled and dimmed, but towards the concerned expression of your guiding star, your lover.
But the silence doesn't last long, as Scythe dons her familiar, toothy grin that you know can only mean she's going to do something outlandish yet lovable. And she does; she gets down on one knee, then slides her hands down your legs, fingers tracing your tights with an unhurried touch, before stopping as she reaches your heel.
Then, she cups the bottom of it, and just like when she offered you the dance, you know exactly what to do for it to continue. You let her lift your leg up with her hands, and once it was high enough, you used it as support to boost your other heel onto the table behind you.
Finding your footing upon the table's surface, you crouch down before extending your hand to her, just as she had done for you. She simply stares at it for a few moments—maybe you surprised her, maybe she expected to carry the burden by herself again, but you refuse to let that happen, so you never retract your hand. So, finally, she takes it, letting you pull her up and onto the table with you. Your eager movements cause her to stumble, but she quickly finds her balance, looking at you with the same proud grin that never left her face.
And then your arms find each other's once more, and then once more the flight of your souls continues. It's no longer to any rhythm that carries through the air, but rather to whatever pace you two see fit. After all, this was meant just for you both. The world only has permission to watch, not to judge, not to fix, not to dictate. Lilies of the valley spring out of the floor and brush against the sides of the platform you waltz on, engraving the moment into their memory. Stars that still linger above twinkle and dance along to the silent, flawed tempo you two create together.
Scythe raises your hand again and spins you once, twice, thrice. Her cosmic hand rests on your back afterward, and at first, it seems like it's only to steady you after something that dizzying.
But then, in an instant, your side is pressed against the front of Scythe, and she has you leaning backwards in a dip as a marvelous end to the dance, even if the tempo of her heartbeat still lingers against your body.
Holding you in that position, Scythe brings her face closer to yours, and it's in this moment that you can take in the full beauty of her in her current form. Golden freckles dot her face like the brilliant stars in the sky. Yet, unlike the heavens that rest above you, she admires your form with an eye in the shape of a crescent moon.
Your eyes can barely process the big star on her left cheek before you notice that she's starting to lean closer to you. Just like before, you know exactly why. So, in another surprise to her, you close the distance; you let your eyes fall closed as her scarred lips connect with yours and send warm waves washing through your body, goosebumps blooming to life on your skin in time with your drumming heart.
When you, hesitantly, gently, pull yourself away, your eyes open to a surprise bigger than the ones you gave to Scythe. For one, you're no longer in the same position; you and Scythe stand in front of each other, each hand tenderly held by the other's. The table's solid surface has also become soft grass below your heels, but the garden's worth of lilies and chrysanthemums never left. They stay surrounding you two, sheltering you from the turmoil of the world. The stars no longer shine as brightly as they once did, but instead pulse faintly as if they were yawning, ready to fall back into the comfort of slumber.
Slumber...
You don't actually remember how you got into the maze from earlier, do you? One moment, you were asleep, and then the next moment, you just began walking through walls upon walls of hedges. There was no reason for you to end up at the gazebo, or to see yourself dancing in the mirror, or to see Scythe in the stars. There was no reason for the mirror to shatter, or for the gazebo's ceiling to give way to the stars, or for its floor to give way to a garden.
Have you been-
"Dreamin'?" Scythe's velvety voice finishes your thought for you. "Hate to break it to ya like this, darlin'."
No, Scythe wasn't the one to finish the thought. If this is a dream, then everything—all these beautiful flowers and stars and experiences—is something spawned from the depths of your mind, including the celestial version of her that stands before you now.
"Does that make me any less important to ya?"
No, it doesn't.
And because it doesn't, you stand there for a few more moments with her, basking in the quiet, peaceful atmosphere after everything that happened in this very dream.
...Maybe you should ask her something. That's how you're supposed to find out more about yourself through dreams, right? At least, that's what your books in reality have taught you.
"Scythe?"
"I'm right here, lilies."
'Lilies?' Sure, that works. 'Flowers' is almost as ridiculous, anyway, and that's something she actually calls you.
Looking into her starry eyes again, you continue, "Do you think you would ever want to... dance with me, like this, for real sometime?"
She smiles with sincere warmth, the same kind she had shown you in the gazebo. "Why would I ever turn down an offer like that, 'specially from you?"
That puts a silly, content smile on your own face. Well, now you know what you think she would say. Maybe once you wake up, you should-
A crack resounds through the open air.
And another,
and once more another,
and you look up to see the stars above crumbling into tiny pieces, one by one, before disappearing. You look around and notice the flowers in the meadow are disappearing, too. Not wilting, not retreating back into the earth; simply leaving without a trace.
The morning is calling to you, requesting you to awaken from your pleasant dream and return to everyone else who loves you. It's not that you're opposed to that idea, but there's one more thing you want to do first...
...As practice, of course! No other reason whatsoever!
"Could we kiss-"
Swords above, maybe not as direct as that. Why are you asking, anyway? This is your dream, so you should make it as romantic as it was earlier.
...Your smile returns, knowing that this will be beautiful, too.
"Scythe, I love you."
She chuckles at your honesty, at you telling her something she already knows, and it sends a warm, tingling shiver down your spine.
"I love ya too, Vine."
Scythe pulls you in, and what your lips press against aren't her own, but rather her tongue. It took you a second to even realize that, because it feels just like her arm—sweltering hot, barely solid in its material or shape—only it's pushing itself into your mouth and enveloping your own tongue in its delectable heat.
With each swirl of her tongue, she allows her lust for memorizing your every inch to further take her over, and you trust that she won't hurt you in the act.
Would you even mind if she did? You're dreaming, after all. Scythe could mark you here, however hard she wanted, and the only lingering sensation would be in your psyche.
Responding to your innate curiosity, Scythe's sharp fangs lightly graze your soft lips as she continues to savor the taste of you. Your heart answers the motion by pounding faster against her chest.
The collapsing of the 'reality' around you two means nothing now. The warmth of her tongue glides down your throat with ease, and even that by itself is proof that your waning time in this place was well spent. Time is always well spent when you're with someone you love.
You swallow the passion, consume the love, devour it with the same greed she devours you with. It's
as wonderful
as the morning sunlight caresses your face.
The cozy light dances across your skin to reach your eyes, but you don't let it this time, draping your right arm over your face and letting darkness envelop you for a little longer while you think.
But you probably won't be able to stop thinking about it for the rest of the day. That dream makes you want to plant chrysanthemums and lilies of the valley in your garden. It makes you want to lie in a grassy meadow with Scythe and gaze at the stars in the night sky. It makes you want to...
...Right, you wanted to ask Scythe to teach you how to dance. You still want to. She seems to know a lot about it, and from everything you've seen, everything you experienced just now, it seems so romantic, so lovely, like proof of your deep bond with each other. Of course you would want to try the real thing with her.
With ample reason to wake up and prepare for the day ahead now, you lift your arm, the rays of sunlight seeping through your window hitting your eyes in an instant.
You sit up in your bed to get away from the rude, intense glow, which is when you notice that the door to your room is slightly ajar. Did one of your brothers check in on you while you were asleep?
It wouldn't surprise you. They love you, and you love them back. You're surrounded and fueled by affection that awaits your return to reality from your dreams every day.
With even more reason to keep going, a smile grows on your face once more. Today, you'll give back the love and acceptance you've received, whether it be from Shuri, Sling, or your guiding star: Scythe.