Chapter Text
A blue so dark it’s almost black
A ribbon that unfurls forever
My eyes glazed over the data pad, staring at the poem I was working on.
Poetry was a burgeoning love, one that I had tinkered with idly in the form of verbal stims or little bits of wordplay, but it wasn’t as if I had the opportunity to read all that much of it until I had access to the Compact overnet.
The moon I was born on, Hablis-9, had been a hard place to grow up as a crippled girl. I stole what time I could in the mornings, brewing the synthetic coffee that paired with my regiment of pills and my glass of water and my occasional synthcube if I was feeling up for it.
Things had become so much easier for me in the seven months after the Affini had arrived, chasing after the escape pod that had blistered through the atmosphere like a comet before landing on the far side of my twinkling industrial moon. That ship had loomed ahead for several days, an overwhelming aberrant cascade of fuchsia petals on a turquoise bulb that hovered in the night sky like an omen, its magnitude distorted by the atmospheric layers and the glow of Orphan-3 on the inverse.
I had always found it easy to become hyperfocused on topics, and that included the work I completed on Hablis-9. Mining administration had a neat stylization to it, even if the policy was dull. I drifted away from the demanding rigor of the task once the Affini took over, though. For the first few days I provided them with expertise as a “little helper” when the need arose, but in the final hours before the interstellar vessel departed I made an impulsive decision and left the moon of my birth behind.
There was a greater passion to be found for me now, in a world without commerce, and as I reclined into the oversized floor bed I had been able to compile as part of my hab, I settled in for another day of writing.
I took a sip of my real coffee and called out to the hab ai. Now I had much more interesting puzzles to solve, the intricate weave of my personal writing.
“Can you um. Another one from that poet I was learning about last week?”
“Certainly Ava! This is Hope by Emily Dickinson.
Hope is the thing with feathers
That perches in the soul,
And sings the tune without the words,
And never stops at all,
And sweetest in the gale is heard;
And sore must be the storm
That could abash the little bird
That kept so many warm.
I’ve heard it in the chillest land,
And in the strangest sea;
Yet, never, in extremity,
It asked a crumb of me.”
I sighed into my cup. “Yeah, that’s good. If I could just capture one iota of that spirit.”
The air was crisp and salty, a breeze flowing in through my open window. I’d specifically chosen Anthemoessa island because of the rugged rural landscape, and the light was beaming in. I continued to write, erasing, arranging, and rearranging words like pieces in a scrapbook. Somewhere in that tangled web, was the order I was looking for.
After a while I received a *ding!* and glanced at my datapad. It was a message from Fiodoir, my friend who I exchanged poems with.
Down the road I saw the sky,
A deep and vibrant azure blue,
There was a tree and there inside,
The thing that once belonged to you.
I grinned and tapped out a reply.
> Oh my stars that’s gorgeous, it’s so evocative!
Fiodoir had a very particular energy, cheeky and witty with a knowledge of poetry that rivalled any scholar. She hadn’t mentioned an owner, so I was fairly certain she was an independent like me.
A chime sounded, reminding me of my schedule today, a visit to the axial city. The metropolis was situated on another ring entirely, and I wasn’t one for travel, but my vet had moved there to pursue a floret adoption and I didn’t want to switch to the new guy at the island clinic. He was nice, but had a rather exhibitionistic floret and I always felt like I was walking in on something.
The elevator ride was a cumbersome process to navigate, a glass structure built into the ring cap of the massive ship, accessible from my island by boat or underwater pod. On the upside, it had soft music and a quiet atmosphere with nice views. The little factors made the biggest difference when it came to my sensory processing issues and poor mobility.
But the trouble realy started as I stepped off the inter-ring elevator. There were several bustling blocks to navigate between me and the vet, huge towers covered in lights and leaves and flowers that could only be described as overstimulation incarnate. The whole place defied the gravitational laws I was used to from my upbringing back on that moon, bridges spanning skyscrapers and networks of trellises for our modular floral guardians to traverse. Kinetic and humming, bursting with scary creatures and unpredictable patterns of movement that I had to duck and weave through, the city itself felt alive. At one point a short furry xeno growled at me while I was trying to cross what I assumed was a street of some sort, and that was when the panic really took hold.
I had to keep going. It was the only way to reach my vet for the class-G adjustment I was long overdue for.
I mashed my hands into the stimtoy I had compiled back home, my third that week, and tried to block it all out. Just another block or two, that was all I needed.
An Affini tapped my shoulder and asked if I wanted help. I summoned every ounce of energy left to swallow my tears and politely decline their assistance so I could make it to the clinic. I was so close, and stormed through the gathering space that stood between me and the vet, almost stumbling onto a fractal statue in the center of the park.
By the time I arrived I was a mess. At least my vet was understanding. She offered me a short acting anti anxiety toffee and compiler permissions for some chocolate caramels that I could nibble for a similar effect if needed going forward.
Still, I knew from experience that a class-E only dulled my prickled senses that had received far too much stimulus, and it was going to make me far less coordinated. That was part of the reason why I didn’t take them in the first place. I could especially foresee it being an issue for me navigating a place of loud chaos like this alone.
I sat down on a small human sized chair in the waiting room, pulled out my datapad, and mused on my latest poem while I sucked on the toffee and let it get to work.
A blue so dark it’s almost black
A ribbon that unfurls forever
The gold star, a cosmic ball of gas and dust
It wasn’t quite right and needed an ending, but these things took time. Fiodoir told me once that she often found inspiration in the very city that had been causing me trouble. Maybe with a little change in perspective and calming down I would too.
Apparently Fiodoir had lived here for a while, it was the reason we had never hung out together in person before. She always seemed to find beauty in the spirals and bustle of life. I copied the few lines I’d been working on and navigated over to her page.
You can imagine my surprise when I saw a picture of a steaming cup of coffee and a backdrop that clearly showed the very same fractal statue and gathering space that I had passed on my way into the clinic. She was barely a minute or two away.
The post was captioned as follows:
*Enjoying some alone time relaxing and writing!*
A flurry of emotions crossed my mind. She was so nearby, it would be cool to see her! But if I did, what if I made a complete fool of myself? What if we didn’t click and I lost my poem buddy forever?
I really got in my head about it.
Finally, I settled on the decision that she had said she wanted alone time, so it would be rude to impose. Definitely rude.
But I couldn’t help myself. She had never once shared a photograph of what she looked like, not a single one, and her profile picture was just photography of some kind of flower in a golden spiderweb. We had been chatting for months, it was natural to be a bit curious, right?
I couldn’t resist walking past the cafe. That wasn’t a crime. Come to think of it, nothing was a crime. If I happened to see her, well, then I would know, and my curiosity would be satiated. She would be none the wiser, and everything could stay as it was.
I felt creepy, dirty even, as I sat on the lip of the park statue across the busy street, peeking over at the cafe where she was apparently working on her poetry for the day.
There were only a few patrons, enjoying themselves at the tables in the courtyard. A young woman talking with the barista caught my eye. She had a paper journal, jet blue hair, and a cup similar to the one in the picture. There were a couple of Affini, another woman, and a glowing translucent creature I recognized as a spectrum jelly too.
I glanced at my phone to avoid suspicion, trying to play it cool as the barista returned to a station at the back of the little enclosed space. The girl with blue hair took a sip of her drink and smirked, continuing to chat with the barista. Was that her? Maybe I could get a little closer, then I might be able to hear what they’re saying.
Before I could even begin to enact my plan for a casual approach I saw the rippling dots by her name on my datapad.
Fiodoir is typing…
My stomach tied itself into a knot as I shot my eyes up, glancing at the guests scattered around the cafe patio.
Fuck.
Fuck.
It wasn’t the blue haired woman.
How could I be so dumb?
There was only one person typing a message in the entire cafe, and she was looking directly at me as she hit send.
*ding!*
> Don’t you want to come over and say hello? I promise I don’t bite!
The Affini had a slender, almost canine snout and a beautiful cascade of rainbow petals for hair. Four large golden eyes. Two shoulders that split into four busy hands. The same below, two knees that branched into eager wiggling arachnid legs of deeply woven bark. And a single, swishing tail.
One of the hands sipped a drink.
One of the hands wrote on a sheet of paper.
One of the hands sent my message.
One of the hands curled into a come hither motion, in eager encouragement, calling me over.
She smiled a sweet, eager smile.
Fiodoir was an Affini.
Okay, not what I expected, but not a terrible outcome either.
The Affini were kind, very kind, and always helpful. I wasn’t interested in being a floret, but I didn’t hate them or anything once I got over the biases I had formed against such a dynamic.
The safe consent practices I had picked up took a while to unlearn, but much like the other defence mechanisms from the accord they existed to protect broken people in a system that could harm you in a way that the Affini never did.
I caught my fear before it could blossom into something panic inducing and irrational. Maybe this was just another step in unlearning my subconscious biases against the Affini’s preferred dynamic.
She was a wonderful author and a talented poet, after all.
It occurred to me in an abstract sense that I must be pretty anxious if I could still feel my heart rate picking up despite having just consumed a class-E.
I backed away, putting my datapad back in my little bag. Turning around I started to scope out an exit from the park. She was standing up. She was already half way over to me. My legs felt like they were stuck in a glue trap, unable to leave the spot.
It was too late, we were doing this, she was right there in front of me.
And I was midair before I could say anything, lifted off the ground and tossed up like a baby.
“Ava!!! It’s such a pleasure to meet you!”
“Aaaaa.” I managed to squeak out as I found myself caught in the middle of her four grasping arms.
“Oh you’re fine, don’t worry, I pick up just about everyone I meet! You’d be surprised how many sophonts feel better and more relaxed once they’ve been reassured that someone can carry them.”
She placed me down on the ground and skittered back towards the table where she was having her drink.
“I’m sorry, I’m just… You’re Fiodoir?”
She looked at her arms and curved her face into an exaggerated confusion.
“I mean I’m pretty sure I am! I was this morning. Yes, still me. Fiodoir Volkova.”
I tilted my head, but hesitantly climbed up the side of the tall chair and sat down next to her.
“Don’t Affini usually… I mean typically they have a bloom count, don’t they?”
She glistened her eyes and turned with a little smile. I couldn’t deny that she was pretty, even if I wasn’t a furry. “Yes. Of course we do.”
“But that’s the thing, you never mentioned a bloom count or a floret number, so I just presumed you were a human independent like me.”
“Oh! Haha, that’s so silly, you’re so cute. No, I’m definitely an affini.” She chuckled, inorganically.
“Okay but uh, now I’m curious. Why no bloom count?”
“It’s like I said, I have rebloomed, I just… don’t include the number in the title.”
“Okay. Yeah no, I don’t want to… it’s not a thing. You’re fine, you don’t have to explain if you don’t want to.”
“Adorable, and so polite. Very little in the way of defence mechanisms too. Someone could get away with a lot of very interesting things with a mind like that. Thankfully it’s just me here though, so you have nothing to worry about.”
I let out a little sigh of relief. It was nice to be reassured of my safety and comfort. The barista came along with a cup of coffee and I settled in.
“I must say Ava, I’m somewhat surprised to see you! Surely you didn’t come all this way just to peep at little old me?”
“No I uh, I was in the city for a visit to my vet, and saw your post-”
While I was starting to talk, she slid closer on my right side, and casually took my hand in hers. I gave her a confused look.
“Don’t worry about it, I just find I need something to play with while I talk sometimes.”
“Okay… So… Yeah, as I was saying, I was in the city for a uh a visit and I happened to see you through the-”
She held my hand in the air and let go, another arm breaking off of hers at the elbow and sliding down onto the table underneath me. I kept it in place, hovering in the air, stumbling over a description of my vets office. She listened attentively, focusing on me. Her fingers tapped at my hand, and I took the non-verbal signal to let it fall into her waiting grasp.
“I see, I suppose I understand why you wouldn’t want to switch providers, terran bonding instincts being what they are.” Her lower arm grabbed my hand and lifted it up back into the air, letting go just like before. This time I didn’t hold it up, so it fell limply into her waiting grasp, and she repeated it another couple of times. It was kind of relaxing, actually. “Good girl. How are you finding things here in the axis? It’s a far cry from Anthemoessa.”
She lifted and dropped my hand again. I felt the rest of my body slacken somewhat, a comfort filling me where tension had been held before.
“It was… tricky. I got quite overwhelmed in the crowds. You remember that poem I shared a while ago about panic creeping in? The meltdown sensory overload feeling? I uh. I got that.”
Her left limbs spread around, running across my waist in a massaging squeeze of reassurance.
“I’m sorry to hear that, sweetie. It can be a lot, I can definitely see how you might find yourself overwhelmed.”
Drop
My hand fell back to the table.
Up
She hoisted it back into the air.
Drop
Back down.
Neither one of us looked over at what she was doing. As soon as my head started to creep over, her finger vines ran a little swirling motion across my waist and I turned in that direction instead. The whole thing left my head in the clouds while my body was completely grounded and relaxed, calm and at peace. It was surreal. At some point I stopped tapping my foot and fidgeting with the compiled toy I carried around everywhere.
“And how’s the latest poem coming along, Ava? You sounded a little stumped by it in your last text.”
“Y-yeah it’s uh, it’s got me a little bit...” I mumbled. “I know the first part, it’s just, how to capture the feeling I’m going for in the ending. How to deliver it? I guess?”
“I’d love to hear what you have so far~”
My hand hovered in the air again, but this time her fingers were outstretched above it as if suspending me by an invisible string. She let go of the nothingness and I slumped back.
“A blue so dark it’s almost black,
A ribbon that unfurls forever,
The gold was never formed by the cosmic ball of gas and dust,
It was created the moment that light reached my eyes…”
I puttered out.
“Or uh, something like that.”
She finished swirling a hand I never even noticed across my head, delivering an affectionate pat that made me feel all warm inside.
“Absolutely gorgeous. I’m sure you’ll find that ending in due course.”
Drop
It was funny, how that moment seemed to stretch for so long. How she seemed intent on grounding me with affectionate touch.
Drop
How the same words she had sent me via message took on a completely different tone when they were delivered in person.
Drop
Her eyes were like infinite pools that I finally snuck a glance into after looking away for so long. I tried to find meaning in their ripples and ridges, reveal the truth of her opinion somewhere above her soft looking snout and below her perked up ears. I usually loathed to make eye contact but this felt so easy, so seamless. I think it helped that she had four of them.
“Looks like you’re all finished up!”
I blinked.
Up
She placed the mug in my hand, hovering aloft. It was empty.
“Oh I, I didn’t even realize I’d drank the coffee… did I like it?” I half chuckled.
“Yes, you loved it.” Her voice rippled in a multitonal way that tickled the back of my mind.
It was decided the moment it was said. I loved it.
“Okay, cool, good. Good,” I replied, feeling a kind of dizzy that was oddly nice.
“Are you okay sweetheart? You seem a little out of it.”
Her hands slowly retreated until there was only one left, tickling fingertips that danced across my palm as it pressed into the table.
“Sorry I think uh, Affini are hypnotic right? You might have uh, hypnotic’d me?”
“You have absolutely nothing to apologize for. You know, I think you might be right.” She tore her head away, looking back out towards the park. “To be transparent with you Ava, I sometimes forget quite how much of an effect I have on pet species.”
Pet species. The way that she said it so normally made me feel ways that I wasn’t prepared to justify to myself. I squirmed slightly, suddenly aware of my environment in a way I hadn’t been before.
“It’s getting late, I should probably start heading back.” I managed to say, despite my eagerness to continue getting to know Fiodoir.
The walk back was intimidating, doubly so given how poorly it went earlier. Then I had the elevator to Anthemoessa, which was going to take a while, not to mention the journey from the hub cap to the spot where I’d set up my hab. Better to get started now than burn every ounce of energy here.
An affini barreled past, as if to punctuate my concern, weaving and dashing between the crowds on the main thoroughfare beyond the cafe courtyard, and I shivered.
Easier said than done.
It was okay, I made it here after all. I could just… mash my fidget toy. Maybe I could ask the barista to compile me some ear plugs too. Perhaps one of those caramel chocolates I was prescribed. I just needed to look down at my datapad the whole time, focus on the map back to the station and, no that wouldn’t work, I might bump into someone and get hurt or cause a ruckus. Okay so… I would have to look up a bit, but not look all the way up, just keep it at eye level. Yep. I was just a normal well adjusted sophont healthily planning her journey home.
My heart was already racing when her voice cut through the noise.
“Sweet thing. Would you like me to walk you back to the elevator?”
I swallowed the lump in my throat.
“Oh that’s fine. I can walk just okay, my leg issue wasn’t even the thing they were looking at today.”
“That’s not what I mean, Ava. This is not an offer to carry you. I could simply navigate the city alongside you. As a… knowledgeable citizen, of course.”
She winked two of her four eyes. I blushed.
“Oh. Oh sorry, right… Of course, yeah. Um. Okay. I mean if it’s not too much trouble for you.”
“Not at all. Follow me.”
Fiodoir stood from the table, and made her way towards the courtyard gate that lead out from the cafe into the street. Double my height, her legs that started in the typical bipedal fashion split at the knee to create four total limbs just like her arms, and her walk rotated through them in an aberrant, spider-like fashion that allowed her to walk with grace and poise.
I stepped past the threshold and out through the gate. I felt almost pulled along by some invisible rope.
And as soon as I had caught up, she made the same gesture she had been doing when my hand was held up.
Then I felt her.
It was more of a presence than a physical sensation at first, a lingering ripple emanating from her form out towards my back. Warm and cozy, it calmed my spirit slightly.
A reassuring hand swiftly followed. She had long wooden fingers that were able to flex and rub in a way that was quite inhuman, spreading and pressing until they settled into a spot where my lower back curved right above my tailbone.
I blushed, thoughts of baby harnesses briefly crossing my mind before I could banish them. This was nothing like that. And it wasn’t like a floret being walked with a leash either, she was pushing, not pulling. Completely different. Guiding, not leading. Her fingers gently applied pressure onto my skin through the fabric of my shirt.
“Let’s get you back to the elevator, little poet.” Her words buzzed through the contact, sending shivers up my spine.
“O-okay.”
“Just focus on my touch, and my voice, and I’ll get us there. I’m used to the big city. You’re in safe hands.”
Her fingers pushed down slightly, and I knew it was the signal to walk forward. The pressure remained even and consistent, almost propelling me into my next step. It was nice, natural, a little like walking downhill after a long journey, unexpected propulsion encouraging me to go exactly where she wanted.
I liked the way it felt to be offloading some of that mental and physical energy to her. What I lost in control was more than made up for.
“Good girl, just like that. No need to worry about the loud noises or busy traffic, just focus on my hand telling you where to go.”
I was pretty sure that was normal language from an affini. I hadn’t been around many of them, but they did seem fond of their terms of endearment. That didn’t stop the praise from making me feel a certain way though.
We had already made it to the end of the street, and we were faced with a busy market square. Species of all size and shape, stature and scent blocked the area, lining up for stalls or looking for friends. I wanted to freeze up. Everything in my body said I should just back away and find another route. I started to glance up at her when a second hand found a spot to settle on my neck. Her long finger brushed against my cheek, turning me back to look forward.
“You’re doing great Ava. Don’t worry about a thing. Now, we’re going to weave through here to the other side.”
We passed by a large fox-looking creature, maw filled with sharp teeth and sweat oily with a sour odor that made me want to cower and hide. I had the compulsion to mash my stimtoy, but when I pressed down her third hand was there instead, reassuring me and providing an excellent surface to let the tension out with.
She pushed me along and I made it past the xeno, into a busy crowd. “You don’t need to worry about the xenrani. They’re quite… assertive, but that’s it. Harmless with affini around.”
“But-”
she did the gesture with a hand again and I felt kinda dizzy again.
“I’ve got you. Just focus on where we’re headed.”
Her fingers rubbed the base of my tailbone slightly in reassurance, then pushed on. We continued forward, propelled by the momentum of her encouragement. Small adjustments every now and then encouraged me to course correct left or right, making my way through the bodies.
It was a subordinance of will, one that made things so much easier. The mental calculation required to navigate and decide where to go was clearly taking up a big mental bandwidth, one that truthfully I was happy to unload.
“Such a sweet thing. It’s so easy to give in to my will, so natural.”
Her words ran over me, through me, but I barely heard them. I was entering a flow state. We progressed up a spiraling passageway, past chitinous creatures and small wolverines and affini, so many affini.
At the top was a lookout, the apex of a skyscraper made of twisting gnarled wood. We stepped through the arched halls and onto a long, translucent pathway.
My heart leapt into my chest as I realized what had happened. In my entranced state I had allowed her to take us the far scarier route directly through the core of the axial city. I stumbled on my own feet, almost falling forward. A possessive hand found my sternum before I could slip. I couldn’t do this, it was so busy and if I even dared to look. No no no no no!
I pushed back against the fingers pressing into my back, resisting them for the first time.
“Sweetie?”
“I can’t, Fiodoir, I’m sorry but this is…”
“It’s going to be okay, little poet, I promise.”
She turned me around to look at her, a conflicting glimmer to her golden eyes. Some unseen battle was fought and lost within her ancient xeno mind. At its conclusion, she lowered down, collapsing her legs into a kneeling terran form. “Here, I think you should take this.”
From within her chest, she procured a small chocolate caramel covered in wax paper. Her hands clasped mine, placing it in my palm and closing it. I didn’t ask how she knew my prescription. It never occurred to me that in order to have the exact right dose on hand she would’ve needed to compile it before I even received the prognosis.
No, it was nothing but pure magic.
“But what if I stumble from my stupid crippled legs and fall?”
“Then I… no, then Miss Volkova will catch you. I promise. Now, why don’t you take the medicine I gave you.”
I unwrapped the chocolate and placed it on my tongue. Sweet, syrupy, bitter, and clinging to everything with just a hint of salt.
“Good girl.”
Some part of her was stroking my neck to make me swallow.
“And besides, I happen to think you have wonderful legs.”
I felt far more comfortable as the medicine slipped into my system, a wave of calm suppressing my panic and concern like a soft blanket. Miss would lead the way. I would be safe.
It seemed counterintuitive to give me a class-E. It definitely made me wobblier and more unsteady as we crossed the bridge. But my friend whispered reassurances that it was okay into my ear, and kept her presence physically grounded all around me.
“I know that your instinct is quivering caution. It produces such wonderful sonnets. But there are some situations in which the instinct to slow down has to be ignored. It’s simply a fear that is making things harder for you.”
I heard her from somewhere far away as the massive vertical city around me faded to a single point, her hand on my back. It was incredibly close.
We reached the other side. From there the tunnels became a zigzagging network akin to an urban neighborhood. Before long the elevator was in sight.
The glass chamber beckoned to me. We were so close.
An affini came from nowhere, a green smear rushing to a meeting somewhere on the other side of the street. It happened in slow motion, her hand wrapping around my entire waist and tugging me back.
I let out a squeal of shock, stumbling back into Miss Volkova’s grasp. She covered my ears with her palms and ran a tendril over my eyes to remove nearly all sensory input. I could vaguely hear yips and barks above me as if coming from another room.
When she lifted her tendril back up and restored my hearing I could see the affini who bumped into us, but it had a completely different disposition, fear and remorse painted across its face.
“I am terribly sorry little…”
It glanced up at the one holding me.
“…little poet. I will be sure to watch my step in the future, I promise. This will never happen again.” It quivered on the last words, and then scurried away.
We took the rest of the walk slowly, until we were right outside the elevator doors.
“Thank you… something like that careless affini almost crashing into us would usually set me back hours.”
“Of course sweetie, that was very rude of it.” She rumbled with a frustration that was quickly muffled.
“Well, I suppose this is where we part ways. Thank you for making this not weird. I’m sorry for uh, spying on you. You’re really nice, and I like having you in my life.”
I looked up at her and smiled. She smiled back down, snout splitting into a grin.
“On the contrary, I’m very glad you spied on me. It was a pleasure finally meeting you in the flesh. Even more so than my wildest expectations.” She paused for a moment. “You know, it doesn’t have to end here. If you want, I could show you my home and you could stay for the evening. Perhaps find some inspiration for the end of your poem.”
I blushed, and glanced away. This felt like a proposition of sorts. It was too early though, wasn’t it? I really liked every moment of our time together. But it was only our first time meeting and I didn’t want to seem desperate or like I was seeking something more. I knew the implications.
“Thank you Miss Volkova. I really enjoyed our time today, but I should probably be headed home. Another time perhaps?”
She vibrated out that calming wave of energy that let me know I was safe and she was understanding.
“It makes me very happy to hear you refer to me that way, Ava. Another time, then. I look forward to hearing from you soon.”
I walked towards the elevator.
“…oh and Ava?”
I spun back around.
She picked me up, and our lips met. Her snout shifted into a more accessible shape, and we kissed.
My eyes went wide in surprise, but I melted into it almost instantly. Sweet juicy flavors spilled into the salted caramel chocolate of my breath. A tendril like a wide tongue danced with mine, and I sighed a happy whine.
It was over too soon, and I was placed back down on the ground.
“Good luck on the rest of your journey home.”
I didn’t fully come back to my senses until the elevator arrived back on Anthemoessa. I had to walk out of the sliding doors without her fingers guiding me, and it shook me from the trance.
It wasn’t until I opened my front door that I noticed the strip of silk fabric on my wrist, shimmering and tied into a bow. A ribbon like the one from my poem.
Ava and Fiodoir