Work Text:
They were little girls once.
They hovered near the legs of their mothers, for the crowded palace halls were filled with loud family and their louder retainers that both were inclined to shy away from. It was stay with their mother, or be forced to interact with the King. The two girls had made their choices.
One mother spotted the other. As she drifted towards her old friend, her daughter followed, trailing more out of the barrier of not needing to interact with anyone with her around than actually needing her mother. When the two mothers met up, chatting about how it had been a while since they've been able to meet up due to their pregnancies, the two girls locked gazes.
In the haze of noise that was this gathering of the royal family and their retainers, the two saw themselves in the other. They saw a girl who hated the noise. They saw a girl who wished to be alone. They saw a girl who wanted an excuse to be elsewhere.
Rhajat reached out first. Her tiny hand bit onto a nail, but she walked forward. "... hey." She said, ignoring how the two mothers paused in the middle of their chat. "Do you want to make hexes with me?"
Rhajat's mother sighed.
Mitama smiled. "Oh, oh! I believe I know something about that! Maybe I can try!" She turned her gaze to her own dumbfounded mother. "May we go off, mother?"
Mitama's mother glanced to Rhajat's mother. "... sure thing. I've wanted to catch up with Sakura- Miss Sakura for a while."
"Don't wander off too far!" Sakura warned.
Rhajat took Mitama's wrist, and Mitama let herself be led to a shaded corner of the castle meeting halls.
The two young girls did not make any hexes that day, but what they did form was a bond and a promise to come back with news on their progress next year.
Between the years of family reunions, Rhajat's mother often was spotted in a village close to the Wind Tribe.
It was a preference thing for her— wishing to be close to her husband while also making trips for others easier without having to deal with the nervousness of the Wind Tribe itself. Mitama's mother moved into the village as well.
Rhajat and Mitama still rarely hung out. The two were on the opposite ends of town, and such a trip was tiring for Mitama. No matter how many times her mother tried to get her active to live up to her passionate energy, it seemed to make Mitama more tired than actually increasing her energy.
But when a trip was made for the two of them, they would always go off to be on their own, messing around with spells on slips of paper. Some of those spells actually worked, creating wisps of flame or causing dark energy to bubble into the air and disappear. It was a fascination that both girls agreed to continue.
Spells were crafted on opposite ends of the village. Rhajat sought out dark places to continue her own type of work. She grew tall fast.
Mitama did not experience such fast growth, but what she did was hole up in her room and write. Poetry books drew her attention the most, and her mind was able to easily connect scroll spells and how poetry worked. Words flowed from her pen as easily as water flowed through a river, and she created.
Her quick growth in the understanding of spells did not result in anything good. A spell was crafted that made the very air curl and sour without it even being used. Mitama did not mind such a thing, for Rhajat was making steps towards such energy herself in the forest near town.
But Mitama's father noticed the very instant it was made, and he stole the spell away, using sealing spells to make sure the spell stayed locked away, to make sure nobody can experience the effects of it. The event was spread throughout town, and enough to reach Rhajat.
Rhajat made her first trip alone that day, to visit Mitama alone in her room.
"I think what you did was... cool."
"But it was dangerous." Mitama said, though she did not reject the compliment otherwise. Rhajat sat next to the sliding door, leg up and eyes facing out. Mitama sat on the other side. "It... felt horrible. I could not think clearly."
"Perhaps I could make something similar in a hex." Rhajat offered. "I've been getting better at those."
"Oh, would you?" Mitama chuckled. "Maybe you can use it on my father. A hero for all / but a villain for us two / two sides of a scroll."
Rhajat chuckled. "You simply must tell me what you did. I promise not to use it to hurt anyone... yet."
Mitama laughed, though it trailed off. "I'm afraid that I can't really remember... I'm sorry."
"Don't be." Rhajat sighed. "You didn't even use it. I'll figure out how you did it. I'll do it for the both of us."
Mitama smiled, unseen by the door between them. "Ah, an honorable offer. I do not wish for you to hurt yourself, either. I am scared for you, despite it all. I cannot heal you out there."
"You're going into healing?" Rhajat turned her head towards the door between them, only able to see Mitama's shadow.
"...Yes. I do not wish to abandon my art, but I do not wish to create spells without knowing my limits. There is a shrine nearby."
"Hm. A shame, then." Rhajat turned back out. "I wish you luck, and I hope for luck myself." She pushed herself away from the door. "Um... and... I'll be back. This was surprisingly invigorating, without our mothers talking to each other."
"I agree." Mitama chuckled. "I hope to see you / Under the gaze of the moon / With smiles abound!"
Rhajat laughed. "Maybe. Seeya."
And with another promise made, Rhajat and Mitama still rarely saw each other. But those rare occasions would happen with slightly more frequency, with the two of them always doing it with a smile.
Not that they would let their families see them like that.