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English
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Published:
2026-10-08
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908
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1/1
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the sound we do not hear lifts the gulls off the water

Summary:

The 6.7 Summer Quest with a little more yearning

Notes:

this was written for a cute monthly writing thing my friends and i do where we try to keep it around 1k

Work Text:

Sandrone drums her fingers along the edge of the wooden desk in the Wingalet, mind whirring with plans. It did so internally, of course. Alain Guillotin would have never installed a loud processor into his greatest creation's brain.


Assuming the identity of Lady Guillotin had been convenient; Sandrone has gone by many names, but none were as unattached to her status as a Fatui Harbinger as Guillotin. Not even Columbina would- No. Best to shut that thought down. Columbina being in Fontaine at the same time as her was an unnecessary complication.


A cackling laugh tears through the false sky as Dottore tears her processor out from inside her-


Sandrone will tell Columbina she's alive when she's done wrapping up her affairs. No ifs, buts, or ands about it. She needs time to look at Alain's gift, and- ha!- process it. In the meantime, Sandrone will content herself with the little snatches of Columbina's voice floating down the hallways of the Wingalet. The golem tilts her head to the side, auditory processing unit focusing on the melodic lilt of Columbina's voice floating up from the aquarium belowdecks. Sandrone will see her when they're both back in Nod-Krai again. There's no need to spoil their vacation.

Confronting her inner self had been troublesome, but manageable. Getting her emotions augmented, returned, and verified was... less so. Guilt hangs over her as she exits the now-tranquil tower where Alain's peers had experimented-- a new, unwelcome feeling. Should she seek out other Narsissenkreuz strongholds to check for any other mashed soul-homunculi? Was that her responsibility as the last of those that would know their story?


The sun is setting, quite fittingly, on the old era of the Narsissenkreuz Research Institute. Sandrone turns around to thank the Traveler and the Soul Shaman in her usual manner: elegant. Her steps remain steady on the sand until her foot seems to catch on something, and Sandrone stumbles, drawing her eyes downward. Odd. Her balance should be-


A world of blue washes over her visual processor and shock fills her as she considers who could have dared kidnap the Seventh of the Fatui Harbingers in Fontaine and-


Moonflowers.


The midnight-blue ground flourishes with moonflowers and cerulean, kuuvahki-blossoms, and there's only one person who can inspire such devotion in the slant of their stalks. Sandrone flicks her eyes upwards to see Columbina, mask off and eyes open, swirling with tears and unknown galaxies.


Columbina's lower lip trembles, and Sandrone is still wrestling with her newly-turbulent emotions as Columbina speaks.


"Sandrone?" Her hands reach out from her fluttering sleeves, and she steps closer, nervous as a newborn fawn. "Is it really you?" Sandrone's sense of balance seems to shift, and she steps back, catching herself. Columbina bounds forward, as if to verify if Sandrone is really standing in front of her. "You're back?" Her eyes seem to find something in the artificial construct in front of her, and she continues her verbal barrage. "You didn't tell me! You avoided me. Why?"


The two are face-to-face now. The trilunar goddess gazes mournfully at Sandrone, and ugh! she can't take it any more!


"I..." Columbina begins, but Sandrone cuts her off by tugging fiercely at her extended arm and tipping Bina over into a hug. "Sandrone?"


Sandrone squeezes her harder. Columbina reaches up to return the hug, looping her arms around the other and snuggling into the fabric of Sandrone's Fontanian dress. Sandrone doesn't clear her throat, because it's obviously impossible for her to get choked up, but she does take a moment before speaking. "Now we're even."


Sandrone can't see Columbina's face, but she knows the goddess is smiling serenely, remembering their constant little back-and-forths.


"I missed you so much," Columbina murmurs.


The golem sniffs haughtily, "That makes one of us. Idiot." Columbina squeezes Sandrone back, trembling still, and Sandrone closes her eyes, content. "I'm here, Columbina." Something surges inside of her and- oh- this is the love Alain wanted her to feel. Sandrone pulls back, and frames Columbina's face with her hands. Drops of moonlight pool and drip slowly from her eyes, and Sandrone brushes them away, not caring about the stains on her white gloves. "I'm here," Sandrone repeats, then leans forward, touching their lips together gently. She pulls away, an unbearable fondness crawling through her systems and one hand still on Columbina's shocked face.


The moon goddess' domain shatters into fragments of kuuvakha-blossoms and the two women are staring into each others' eyes in the dying light of the sun. Columbina is beautiful, Sandrone thinks simply. This is what her father wanted for her. She leans in again, and kisses Columbina, more firmly this time. After two ticks of Sandrone's internal system, Columbina kisses back.


Click! A Kamera snaps a photo, and Sandrone steps back, shocked. She takes in the scenery around her: the little faux-archon and her movie crew that Columbina has been working with all month are all standing around, and filming her!


Sandrone's face contorts into a scowl, and she grips Columbina's shoulders. "Columbina!" The golem shakes the goddess while a satisfied smile graces Columbina's face.

 

 

Later that night, when the sun has allowed the moon its time in the false sky, a ripple of power emanates from the Wingalet. Roosting birds scatter on the edge of the water as Hydro combines with kuuvahki in a magnetizing display before dropping back down into a peaceful sea.

"I love you too, Sandrone," Columbina smiles.