- Epilogue -
☆
THE TRAM CHUGGED along its track, following the sharp curves of the Mirean coastline. The Fragilli was still, the entire sea brought to heel by the weather. A layer of ice stretched from the beach to the horizon.
Abby blew out, breath frosting the compartment's tiny window. Heat flowed out of the overhead vents, her hair frizzing from its ferocity. She'd tried to turn it down, but a hand quicker than her own clamped onto her wrist, and refused to let her.
She eyed the culprit, who sat beside her, knees tucked into his chest, a blanket wrapped around his body and over his head.
It wasn't her fault he'd taken the weather report lightly.
"Sebbi–"
He let the blanket slip off his head, causing his hair to riot. It sprang to action as if evacuating a sinking ship, strands diving every which way.
His red-rimmed eyes pleaded with her. "Please don't turn it down."
He squeezed her wrist, and she relented, placing her hand—her smartly gloved hand – back on her lap.
"They called for snow."
"But it wasn't snowing when we left," he grumbled, his gaze darting to the window, the sky spitting snowflakes onto the ground. Sebbi winced, another shiver rocking his body. He closed the blanket around himself, bringing it right below his nose.
"Yes, well, seems they were right." She scooted close enough that their elbows grazed and Sebbi eagerly bent, like a plant chasing sunlight, to rest his head on her shoulder.
Even through the blanket and jacket, and her heavy tunic, she felt the coolness of his cheek.
Quickly, she wrapped an arm around him and offered him a spot underneath her own blanket.
He clamored to get under it, but was careful enough to not knock it off her lap.
They shared it instead, as they had the night Sebbi had returned, their hands brushing against each other.
"I'm–" He sneezed, hair buffeting his eyes.
"The second we get off this tram, we're getting you a coat."
"Gloves and mittens too?" He shook the hairs out of his face and stared up at her.
She nodded. "Gloves and mittens too."
Abby would do anything to make sure Sebbi was safe, even if that meant putting more strain on her wallet, one that was anemic given her full-time position as an Acadium student, though she was set to graduate in the spring. Her school work barely allowed her to get a full night's rest, let alone take on part-time employment. In her last year, she'd accepted an apprenticeship with the Triadian Potioneering Guild, but the position paid in experience only.
Experience, while valuable, didn't keep stomaches full. Or stubborn Sebbi's from dressing weather-appropriately.
"You know–" Sebbi let his eyelids drift close, his fingers curling around her hair. "If I weren't so miserable–" Miserable because of his own decisions, she thought, "--this would be perfect." A pleasant hum accompanied his voice, the heat of his breath tickling her neck.
"What would be perfect?"
"This." He raised his head, his gaze sparkling as he stared into her face. "Us. Here together, curled under blankets."
Her heart raced, her body flooded by a tidal wave of embarrassing heat. "Even though the ride to Laos has been pretty bumpy?"
The tram they rode was one of the older models, built without reinforced ly'ren stone wheels and extra stabilizers. When the tram jumped the track, they felt it, Sebbi more so, as his face always became slightly greener whenever the tram landed.
"Even with the bumps." He settled his head back on her shoulder. "Though next time, maybe we buy tickets for a better tram?"
"With what money?" She rested her cheek on his hair. It'd grown out, the ends grazing the tips of his ears, the white more prominent than it had been, though nothing like the thick stripes of it in Lucy's hair. "We're broke."
"We could ask Lucy for some."
"You mean me. I could ask Lucy."
"He listens to you." Sebbi tilted his chin up to catch her eyes. "Besides, who else can deal with my brother's idiocy?"
Abby snickered. "Margo, clearly."
"Ah yes. She did sign-up to deal with it for eternity."
She turned, Sebbi raising his head, though he remained close enough to stay under the blanket and wrapped up in her warmth.
"I'm happy for them."
"I didn't think there would be enough cheese in the realms to get her to commit to him like that. A bonding ceremony...I've only read about them."
Abby's eyebrows once again raised. "You? Reading?"
With a smirk, he took the blanket and yanked it more to his side, leaving Abby more exposed to the chill of the window and in spite of being dressed properly - which made exactly one of them- her skin prickled. "I do read."
"Maybe you should read more for your lessons. Then, I wouldn't be stuck tutoring you all the time."
"But I like it when you tutor me. You reward me whenever I get a question right."
Refusing to be left out to freeze to death, she snatched the blanket off Sebbi's lap, the smirk dying on his lips.
Eyes wide, goosebumps spread across his hands. "You—" he growled, and lunged at her, making for the blanket.
She held it over her head, stretching as far as she could to keep it out of his reach. "It's what you get," she said, between chuckles. "You're always saying things like that."
His eyes narrowed, her face holding his gaze, the blanket momentarily forgotten. "Saying things like what?" Flecks of gold danced in his gaze.
She turned away, face a rotten, beet red. "Like that I reward you."
"Don't you?"
The heat on her face threatened to explode her head. "Yes, with stew and cups of tea. You make it sound like there's more to it." Noticing his ever-expanding grin, she cut him a glower. "Just like Lucy."
That did it. Whatever amusement Sebbi had derived from the situation fled as he fell back on the bench, eyes dark, mouth hard. "I'm not like my brother."
No, he wasn't. But Abby would never tell him that. Not when he'd taken it upon himself to constantly tease her. It hadn't been good for her heart, all his gazes and stares, the devious grins and sincere smiles he flung her way. All his words were too sweet, they'd rotted away her sense.
Keeping quiet, she returned her gaze to the outside, and in no time, Sebbi's head was on her shoulder, throaty grumbles of contentment rising from his chest. In a cabin, on a train that shook, snuggled beneath blankets to fend off the cold, Abby couldn't think of a more perfect, a more magickal moment.
*
A cart came around for lunch, helmed by a kindly woman, who had steely grey horns rising from her head. Sebbi asked if she was from Noriie, and hearing him call her home by its true name rather than "southern continent", made her all too eager to chat. She talked about her mother and father, still living there, and about efforts to make the desert more hospitable. Trees had already started growing, Triad's top potioneers, most of them graduates from The Wizard's Acadium, having enhanced regular Burla's to survive on sunlight alone.
The process caused Burla's natural black leaves to turn a bright red, and forests of them, were said to burn as brightly as flames. Noriieans called the trees Drygon's Breath.
The woman was excited by the prospect. New homes could be built, their failing lumber industry could be revitalized. And with the resurgence of Ly'ren stone appearing in thought-to-be tapped-out mines, the continent was well on its way to rival Mirea in wealth.
After their chat, and after jotting down both Abby and Sebbi's order – a bowl of fish stew to share, and a kettle of brownbark, the woman left, her cart's wheels squeaking down the aisle.
While waiting for their lunch, Sebbi slipped a letter from his pocket. It was crinkled, the corners folded over, the ink smudged, but the name of the sender was still clear.
Abby grinned, as Sebbi tore the envelope open, and unfolded the paper inside.
"How is he?" she asked.
"Old." Sebbi handed her a photo. In it, a red-haired young man stared into the camera, a grey-faced cat perched on his shoulder. He held a bow in one hand, a large bird, with emerald green feathers in the other and he grinned. A pair of horns grew out of his head. "Bantu's taken him hunting in the newly formed forest. Caught himself an auger pheasant."
"That's nice." She gave him back the photo, noticing how Sebbi's eyes lingered on it. He smiled, before pocketing it, careful not to crease it.
"Says Uusa's a natural hunter. Same as Dancer."
"Have they had to fish anyone out of the sands recently?"
He shook his head. "No, seems I'm the only one to have that distinction."
She locked eyes with him. "I'm glad they found you."
Smiling, he reached out and stroked her cheek, his fingertip grazing her crescent-shaped scar. She wore it proudly, the scar no longer hurting. It connected her to him and Lucy. The three of them could be realms apart and they'd still share the same crescent-shape mark. They weren't blood-related, but they were family none-the-less.
"I'm glad they found me, too."
Between studying for exams and doing their homework, Sebbi had told her more of his time in Noriie. How he'd awoken in a forest, despite there not being any, at least any known, on the continent. How the Wizard Kellog had found him, had lent him a pair of boots to take him where he most wanted to be. How, next thing he knew, he was face down in the sand, the sun threatening to cook him alive. He'd given up and resigned himself to being some predator's meal for that day.
And then Uusa and Bantu arrived.
They saved him.
Without them, Sebbi wasn't sure he'd have survived.
Abby was grateful to the pair, so much so, she sent Uusa a package every year on his birthday – usually some cap she'd enhanced to accommodate his growing horns, knitted with sweat-proof fibers and coated with sun protectant to keep sun burn at a minimum. She sent her old ribbons to Dancer - which the cat loved to shred - and jars of pickled Jacquer fish, made in-house at her father's old fish canneries.
Crum's fish canneries, she had to remind herself. He'd taken over the business, once he'd turned twenty-five.
She wrote to Bantu regularly, thanking him again and again for saving her most precious person.
Trays of food were brought to their car, steam curling from the kettle's spout. Chunks of white fish swam in a thin sea of cream and spices.
Pulling down the tray built-in to the wall opposite them, they dug into their affordable meal, Abby eating every one of Sebbi's onions.
*
They arrived in Laos by nightfall, and to worsening weather. The air was heavy with frost, snow already blanketing most of the homes and roads. After getting Sebbi an appropriate fur-lined coat, mughound hide gloves, and fluffy black earmuffs, they trudged their way through the city.
Bundled children took to the streets, creating miniature cities in the snow, while parents watched on from the warmth of their homes. Towers of smoke rose from every chimney, lively chatter, along with bitter ales, spilling from the taverns. Couples walked, delighted squeals taking flight as snowflakes landed on noses and eyelashes.
The Amber Docks were abandoned, the boats tightly moored for the night, the sailors all having gone home to wait out the storm. There was only one ship that had not dropped its anchor into the bay. A ship with tall, red sails, and glowing blue heat lamps scattered across its deck; a ship whose hull disturbed no water, because thanks to some ingenious engineering it flew.
Captain Reiz Malmadon awaited them aboard the ship, The Glowering Red, his beard peppered with snow, his grin as wide as the sea itself.
*
"Aye! Cat-man!" Red wasted no time welcoming his guests aboard his ship. In nothing but a hide vest, and trousers, he grabbed Sebbi and pulled him into his chest. His muscles bulged as Sebbi threatened to pop.
"Red," Sebbi pushed him away, but the man was stouter and stronger, and all of Sebbi's attempts ended up making him look like a cat struggling to claw itself free of a bath tub.
"Let me look at you." Captain Red pulled away, placing bare fingers on Sebbi's cheeks, Sebbi's eyes widening at the shock of cold. "Your hair got longer." He nodded at Sebbi's head, Sebbi eyeing him back.
"Yours is purple."
Red smiled. "Matches the beard." He ran his fingers down the thick braid of hair hanging from his chin. It was studded with beads, and silver eels and gull feathers.
Abby had heard much about the crew of the Celes. About Captain Daphne and Nugura and Red, and how they used to drink and throw dice and sit beneath the stars regaling Sebbi with all sorts of harrowing adventures.
When he talked about them, there was a noticeable softness in his voice, one that spoke to friendship and admiration. And though it'd been five years since he'd seen them in person, Sebbi kept in touch with Red, and had even been a guest at his wedding. Abby had been his plus one, much to Lucy's chagrin as the wedding feast was full-on seafood.
"And how're you, Miss Abby?" Red gently took her hand in his, and gave a little bow.
"You can just call me Abby, Red."
"Aye?" His gaze jumped between Abby and Sebbi, his thick black brows raised, a devilish smirk anchored to his lips. "And I'm not to call you anything else yet?"
Clearing his throat, Sebbi stepped forward, his cheeks red and chafed.
"She's just Abby."
Red slapped Sebbi's back. "For now."
"Red, dear, stop torturing the young'uns." A man stepped out from the captain's cabin, red-haired and green-eyed. Dressed head to toe in exotic furs and thick leathers, he was the exact opposite of Red. Slim, tan, rounded features, aware of the weather.
Abby recognized him immediately, though the last time she'd seen him, he was standing next to Red on the beach, underneath an archway of blooming Mirthea, declaring their love to the gods.
"Patryk," Abby nearly tripped over herself to greet him.
"Abby," he said and smiled, before pulling her into a hug. "You look well."
"So do you. Properly bundled too." She raised her voice, ensuring Sebbi heard it.
He had, because he yanked his collar up, burying half his face inside the new coat's fur lining.
"Unlike our significant others," he whispered, and then released her.
When Abby was able to pull away, her face was every bit as hot as though she'd stuck it directly under one of the heat lamps.
Significant other, huh?
Patryk and Red were always saying things like that, always speculating about the true nature of her relationship with Sebbi. She doubted they'd believe the truth - that he had been her cat, a cat prince in secret, a king briefly of another realm, and then, after dying, granted the chance to live like a regular human.
Sebbi was significant in her life, and she loved him dearly, but Patryk insinuated romantic feelings and Sebbi was family.
Just family?
Sebbi must have sensed her staring, because his gaze found her face and for a moment, the sea, and the slow hum of the ship's engine nestled in its belly, Red's lively chatter, it all ebbed away. It was just her and Sebbi, moored to the world, tethered to each other. Five years of being by each other's side, of causing explosions together, celebrating exam results with each other, admonishing Lucy together. Five years, and it was as if, they'd never spent any time apart.
The thought of leaving Sebbi, of living in different places, of not seeing each other daily, plowed through her chest, shredding her heart to pieces, pieces even the strongest magicks would be incapable of putting back together.
The tiniest smile rose to Sebbi's lips, and Abby's face turned the dreaded red of a tomato.
"Come on!" Red shot a huge arm into the air, waving them all over. "Let's get her in the air."
*
Abby stood behind the helm, the rough wood sliding through her fingers as she steered the ship around a mound of clouds. They drifted through the stars, the moon at their back, Laos, a sparkling frosted gem on the ground below.
Red leaned an elbow on the railing, his beard gently flapping in the breeze. Patryk had taken Sebbi below deck, to show him Red's latest modification - one that would allow the ship to reflect its surroundings like a mirror, thus becoming invisible for moments at a time.
"You're a natural," Red reached out and let his fingers slip through the puff of cloud on his right. It left water droplets on his skin, though he didn't seem to mind. "You fly a ship before?"
Abby shook her head. "No, but maybe it's in my blood."
She glanced down at the Morningtide key strung around her neck. Celes Nim, former Worlds-Seeker, captained a ship. She sailed the Smokesea to reach other realms. She fought off fires and goblins in her quest for adventure. She, alongside her two friends, saved the Eridan. "My mother thought the ground was overrated."
"Aye, smart woman."
Red got to his feet, his eyes wandering over to the door that led to the inside of the ship. "Patryk and Sebbi have been down there a long time. I ain't fully sure they haven't gotten lost."
Abby chuckled, her body swaying with the ship. The soft hum of its sails reminded her of the flapping of goldenfly wings. "They'll find their way."
"You don't know Patryk. Should see the maps he draws, doesn't know north from south."
"Sebbi's with him, and Sebbi always finds me."
"Oh?"
She nodded, ignoring the way his grin twisted with mischief. "He's my home, and I'm his." Just as Lucy was home. And Margo and Axion were home. In that way, Aelurus too, had become her home, much like the little plant shop on Ean's Western slopes, and that spot on the hill behind the estate where sat Sir Simon and her mother's persimmon grove.
Her heart was filled with places and people she all called home.
"So, you got any new stories to tell?"
"Boy, do I." He slapped his thigh, his braid smacking against his chest.
Abby laughed. "Do any of them start with shoes?"
"No, not these ones." Abby glanced down at her feet, at her plain brown boots, boots she'd purchased for herself after retiring her ivory ones. They had served her well, and deserved a nice, peaceful retirement. "One does begin with this old gal, though," he patted the ship's railing lovingly, "squeezed her through a canyon half her size to escape a flock of talon stalkers."
"I'd love to hear it."
Red moved beside her, and as they stood out overlooking a sea of stars, he told his story, Abby straining her ears to savor every word because she knew, better than most, that adventures were always meant to be shared.
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