[ OOC: Continued From (http://www.spiritsoftheearth.net/smf/index.php?topic=27084.0) ]
Zephyr and Asta were risking a lot by coming so near the capitol as Uthlyn. But they both needed to know the fate of her mother. He wasn't entirely sure what love was, but he thought his feelings for Abigail must have been it. It was enough to risk everything to find out.
As they walked into the city, he was immediately at a loss as to where to even start looking. He was pretty sure he'd never dared enter such a haven of science. That was going to make things challenging.
"Maybe—" Asta cut herself off with a quiet squeak as she darted out of the way of a street cart. She watched it trundle by for a moment, wide-eyed, then shook herself and cleared her throat. "Maybe we should...ask after the family? I know they aren't noble, but for her to be a lady's maid they would have needed some status, right? Surely someone would know who they are."
Zephyr swallowed his trepidation and let his mind settle. "Right. A family with status is probably in the city registry. I... ever actually checked."
He gave her an embarrassed, shameful look. "I... was afraid to set foot here out of some paranoid fear that a city like this would be such an anathema to me that I would simply dissolve." He hated to admit such a human emotion that he only just now realized was what he had felt. It was if that time over two decades had made him more human somehow.
Asta gave him a small, thin smile. "I can understand that," she said softly. "This place makes me twitchy too, and I'm not an elemental—"
She suddenly went quiet as it abruptly occurred to her that that wasn't entirely true. She was, at the very least, half elemental.
"Still getting used to what your connection to me means, huh?" He smiled as they walked. "Believe me, I am too."
"Mmm." She tried for another smile, but worried she didn't quite manage it. "It's just...well. Yes."
Despite the reason for their journey to the city and all the time they'd spent together, they hadn't actually talked much about...well. What they were to each other. What that meant. Mostly because she suspected neither of them really knew what it meant, from either side.
Zephyr had originally thought to show her his true form. But he came to the conclusion that that could wait. The young woman had enough to process already and had more to come when the learned the whole story of what had become of Abigail.
After bluffing their way through acquiring an address for the Blythe family, the pair headed into the nicest district short of the one for nobles. There, the successful merchant families enjoyed their prosperity away from the lower classes Zephyr was surprised by the revelation that Abigail's family had grown as wealthy as they had. They were never poor, but they didn't have any mansions that he knew of.
"We're looking for Laurel Street," he said absently.
Asta nodded and repeated, "Laurel Street," as she looked around. She couldn't stop herself from musing aloud, "These houses are all so...nice." And big.
And she'd grown up in the hollow of a tree.
She couldn't even tell if she felt bitter about it; currently, the noise and stifling closeness of the city just felt overwhelming, but would it have felt that way if she'd been raised in it?
"Give me the open sky any day." He smiled at the heavens. "Although I suppose houses are good when it rains."
Asta could just make out the sign they were looking for at the intersection ahead.
Without thinking, she reached out to take Zephyr's arm lightly and pointed. "That one, right?"
She only realized after she'd done it that, while physical affection tended to be easier for her in her animal forms, she actually hadn't touched Zephyr much at all since her breakdown at the Norbraith estate. She quickly dropped her hand, wringing her fingers together in front of her body. "We should, you know--start to ask around," she said hurriedly.
They proceeded to travel up the street, stopping the occasional passerby to ask about the Blythe household. Few, however, were willing to talk with such odd-looking strangers; they could be mages, don't you know? Eventually they happened upon someone who started the second they laid eyes on the pair. Zephyr, too, for they looked unmistakably related to Abigail, with bright green eyes and the same freckled olive skin.
Asta paused when she felt Zephyr tense beside her, following his gaze to the finely if modestly dressed man across the street.
The stranger quickly ducked his head and hurried on, shoulders hunched.
Asta blinked. "Well. That's not suspicious."
Zephyr nodded to her and hurried after the man, but not so quickly as to draw even more attention than they already were. He kept pace with the ease of a predator, graceful and implacable. Hopefully, he led them right where they needed to go.
As they tailed the stranger—or, Asta had to assume, not-quite-a-stranger—she felt the anxiety in her stomach growing until it was a black hole swallowing reason.
"W-wait." She grabbed Zephyr's arm as the man reached one of the nicer townhouses lined along the street and started up the front path. "Wait, I—I don't—I can't..."
She swallowed thickly and looked up at him. "I'm...not ready..."
Zephyr stopped and turned to face her. His expression grew gentle and reassuring as he took her hands in his. "It's going to be okay; I'll be here with you the whole time."
Trembling, Asta shook her head. "I don't—I don't think I can—"
All but hyperventilating, she looked around quickly before tucking into the narrow space between two of the townhouses. Barely taking the time to make sure she wasn't seen, she quickly shifted into the form of a small white cat.
Padding slowly back out toward Zephyr, she kept her eyes fixed on her paws. I'm not ready, she told him quietly, ashamed of herself but unable to face the reality of what was happening. I don't...know what to be for her...
He squatted and reached out as if beckoning a stray to come closer. You don't have to be anything but yourself. As long as you don't shift. That might not go over well. She might accept it, but her family certainly won't.
She crept a little close. I don't...can I stay like this? she asked rather plaintively. Her family, they might not...even let us see her. I don't know if I can...be human for that.
Their charade for the Norbraiths had sorely tested the limited of her ability to hide her emotions; she wasn't sure she could do it again, not for something like this.
Very well. One surprise at a time might be best anyway. He gently scooped her up and stroked her fur. "That's a good kitty."
Or would you rather wait here?
She pressed into his chest, arching her back into his hand as any cat would.
No. No, I can—I want to see her. I think. She gave a very un-feline sigh. I just don't know if I can...talk to her.
If you decide you can, just tell me. I'll work something out. With that said, he walked towards the front door. He felt his own trepidation as he reached out to the doorknocker. After taking a few breaths, he rapped it against the door.
She nodded, rubbing her head against his cheek lightly.
The knock took a while to answer, and when the door did finally slide open, it was to reveal a steward in a sedate, starched shirt and coat.
"Yes? Can I help you?"
"Yes. I'm looking Abigail Blythe," he answered politely, "I... I believe she knew my father, Hermes Auster."
"Please..." He hoped his anxiety was mistakenly attributed to anything but the truth. "I've come a long way."
The steward frowned. "Miss Abigail doesn't typically take visitors," he said doubtfully. "But I shall give her the name. Auster, was it? A moment."
He closed the door, and they heard footsteps disappearing further into the house.
The footsteps that came echoing back after several minutes were much lighter and quicker, trailed by a heavier, booted tread.
"Abigail, wait—"
"Unhand me this moment, Andre, or I swear you will regret it," a woman's voice snapped out moments before the door flung open to reveal a woman in a staid blue house dress.
She was older, of course, no longer a damsel of twenty but somewhere in her mid-forties; lines trailed from the corners of her eyes and mouth, strands of pale gray ran through her chestnut hair. But the eyes were the same as she looked Zephyr up and down.
"...You."
Zeph was speechless for a long, awkward moment. Did she know? If she did, then his deception wouldn't hold even if his face was slightly different. Not against her.
"Yes, ah, we haven't... met. I'm told my father knew you."
"...Of course. Your father." She stepped to one side. "Please, come in. We can talk in my receiving room."
The man they had followed—Abigail's brother, presumably—was hovering awkwardly in the hall. "I'm not sure this is a good—"
"Who I choose to associate with is my business, Andre," Abigail snapped as she beckoned for Zephyr and his "cat" to follow.
He nodded politely and followed. Sitting down when it was offered, he found that words failed him as he looked at her. But, eventually, he managed to say, "I'm sorry to show up unannounced, but I didn't know exactly where to find you."
Abigail had not taken a seat herself, arms folded as she just stared at him.
Finally, she sighed. "I don't know why," she murmured eventually, "but I somehow thought you would...at least look older. But you really haven't changed, have you?"
He froze stiff. She knew. The realization hit him harder than he thought it would. He glanced around to see if the brother was in earshot before practically melting into his seat.
He sighed, looking at her apologetically. "How much do you know?"
Abigail sighed, her shoulders slumping slightly. "Honestly? I don't know—it's all folklore and hearsay. Are you a spirit? A demigod? Something else?"
She began to pace. "I didn't realize until after you—you left. And I know I was meant to contact you but..." Her expression went tight, green eyes doing dull. "Something happened. I...wasn't myself for a while."
Curled around his shoulder, Asta found her ears pricking up instinctively.
"I'm... a spirit of nature," he found himself admitting, "I thought about telling you so many times, about coming to find you again, but I was... I was afraid: of what you'd think, of the position it would put you in, of what your family would do if they found out."
"That something is why I finally confronted that fear. I... met her."
Abigail seemed genuinely perplexed. "You met...who?" she asked slowly, eyeing him.
And then, in a strange mirror of the face Asta had made when her parentage had been presented to her, realization seemed to strike. The woman's knees trembled and she collapsed back into a chair, one hand pressed over her mouth.
"She--" She gulped, eyes watery. "She--she lived?"
Zeph nodded slowly. "She did. And in some strange twist of fate, our paths crossed. Imagine my surprise when I learned I actually had a child."
What do you want me to say? he asked Asta.
I--I don't know. The cat blinked from her perch on his shoulder, staring wide-eyed as Abigail buried her face in her hands and her shoulders shook with silent sobs. I...feel like I shouldn't be seeing this. Like I'm spying.
She jumped down from his shoulder and crept under the chaise, curling up with her tail over her eyes. You should...tell her. If you think she's, er, ready?
Abigail gulped a few careful breaths, then finally lifted her head. "She--she's alright?" she whispered, leaning forward over her knees to fix Zephyr with a painfully hopeful look. "I didn't--she was so small, and pale, and they said she was sickly, that she didn't survive her third breath. I didn't--" She drew in a ragged breath. "I didn't believe them. For years I looked, I searched every children's home in the city, but I never found her. I--eventually I thought they must have been telling the truth, that she really had..."
"She wasn't sick; she's an albino. A dryad found her and raised her the best it could; that's how she survived. She... grew up in the wild, trusting the civilized world even less than I do."
He considered his next words carefully. "You see, she inherited some of my power. Where I have power over the air and can shift a little, she is changeable like the wind.
"In fact, she's with us right now."
"She..."
Abigail blinked, then her eyes flickered down to the "stray cat" that had crawled under his seat. She looked back up at Zephyr incredulously. "You mean she's--surely not..."
"She grew up with the idea that her mother had left her to die. She... was afraid to face you as herself, no doubt terrified that it was true. It was enough of a shock learning that the strange being traveling with her was her father."
"It's a lot for you too, and I know it's a risk to all of us, but I didn't know what else to do to help her process than to find you."
Just tell me anything you want to say and I can relay it. Unless you're ready? he told Asta.
The cat had crept out far enough that she could peer up at Zephyr from under the chaise. But before she could actually answer him, Abigail had moved onto the floor just in front of the seat, on her knees with her hands over her mouth.
"Oh, little one," she whispered, crying freely now. "I'm sorry. I am so, so sorry. If I had known—oh, my baby..."
Cautiously, much the way a feral cat would, Asta stretched her neck out toward her and sniffed. She took a few steps, then allowed her form to change, until she was kneeling in front of the older woman in a human shape.
"...Hello."
"Abigail, Asta. Asta, Abigail," Zephyr said, introducing them to each other. He noticed a strange wetness in eyes as he was overcome by the moment. Never before had he felt such profound emotion.
"Asta?" Abigail began to smile through her tears. "It—it suits you. Little star."
She started to reach for her and Asta flinched back instinctively. Abigail froze. "I—forgive me. I'm so sorry, I just..." She sniffed. "They never even let me hold you..."
Asta blinked, then slowly leaned forward, allowing Abigail to place one hand on her cheek. Then she melted, leaning into the touch and all but collapsing as her mother wrapped her arms around her.
Mother.
Abigail clutched the shapeshifter to her chest, breathing raggedly. Then she looked up at Zephyr over her shoulder and smiled shakily. She held up one hand to him in invitation.
It took the wind spirit a moment to process the unfamiliar feeling. Eventually, he took Abigail's offered hand and allowed himself to be pulled into his first ever group hug. Something new was blossoming in the core of his being, something planted in him by the same love that spawned Asta. Was this what humans called "joy"?
Abigail chuckled wetly and reached out with one hand to brush her thumb under Zephyr's eyes.
Asta sniffled and looked between the two of them, still unable to form proper words.
"How..." Abigail sniffed a bit herself, then cleared her throat. "How did you find her?"
"In my own animal form, I let myself get captured by a traveling menagerie. They put me in the same tent as a white doe. I had already planned to free the rare creatures being cruelly treated as objects, but when I saw the person within, I knew immediately why fate had led me there. So, I helped her escape."
"The winds of fate led us to Ardyn's Glade, where I was told of my 'sister'. Needless to say, we were shocked and confused. I didn't... I didn't even think being a father was possible for my kind."
Abigail went suddenly still with a kind of cold fury. "A menagerie?" she repeated in all but a growl, tightening her grip on Asta's shoulders.
Then she took a breath and shook her head. "No. You're out now, you're both safe. That's what's important." She smiled and took Asta's face gently in her hands. "Oh, my baby girl..."
Asta found herself blushing and dropping her eyes, but she didn't pull away. "Not exactly a baby," she murmured wryly.
Abigail's eyes flickered sadly. "No. You're not." She glanced up at Zephyr a quiet sigh. "I didn't know either. After you first left, I wanted to confirm my suspicions about what you were—and I'd barely done so, I'd been planning to leave you a message when I realized I was..." Another sigh. "I—I'm ashamed to admit it, but that might have been why I eventually believed my parents. You know I studied magic; I had read too many accounts of how the half-mortal children of magical creatures were so rarely viable..."
Zeph smiled sadly. Regret didn't come naturally for him, but he had felt much lately that he rarely, if ever, felt. "I wish I had kept looking for you. Maybe then I could have spared Asta such a hard life."
"May I... ask what gave me away?"
Abigail's smile twitched up a little higher on one side. "I had my suspicions from the moment we met," she told him. "I was studying pre-Fell folk history, do you remember? The Four Guardians were mentioned in my research. And the wind elemental...well. The descriptions rang a few bells."
Asta smiled a bit, still looking back and forth between these two near-strangers. Her parents.
She had parents.
Zephyr smirked, impressed. "I really met my match with you, Abigail Blythe. I'm lucky you have such an open mind. We both are."
"And you may know the name they gave me, Borai'us, but you don't know the name I gave myself. It's Zephyr."
It felt incredible to be honest with her after so many years apart. Not that she didn't have a leg up on any lie he spun. It would be insulting at this point.
"Zephyr," Abigail repeated softly, and she smiled again. "I like it."
She cupped his cheek in her palm for a moment, then chuckled and withdrew her hand to brush a few strands of snow white hair back from Asta's face. "God, I think I might actually be too old for you now," she told the elemental with a wry laugh. "And this one here..."
She held her daughter at arm's length for a moment, shaking her head in quiet wonder. "Stars above us, you look just like me, don't you? Well, except for the freckles."
Asta giggled, she couldn't help it. "I like yours," she told Abigail quietly.
Once he was done chuckling, he smiled softly at the display. "I can make myself look older, if you'd like."
His face fell a little. "But... you deserve someone you can grow old with, someone you don't have to risk everything to be with."
Abigail's smile turned soft and fragile. "I think I'm the one who gets to decide what I deserve, don't you?" she murmured, drawing Asta's head down to rest gently against her shoulder.
But before she could say anything else, there were footsteps in the hall just outside her receiving room. Her eyes went a little wide and she quickly got to her feet.
"My brother," she murmured, her eyes going hard and sharp. "Asta, love, I'm sorry, but--"
The shifter nodded quickly. "I know," she said, and in the next breath she was the little stray cat who had entered with Zephyr.
Zephyr wiped his eyes and looked down at the cat. Well? What do you think? She might be older now, but she's exactly the woman I remember.
Asta nodded at him; she was honestly still processing all that had happened, so she didn't entirely know how to answer him.
Abigail herself looked torn, but as the footsteps drew nearer, she urged quietly, "The two of you should leave, for now. Find the south district library--I can meet you there later this evening, and we can talk without fear of interruption."
Zephyr nodded reluctantly, a little afraid he wouldn't see her for another twenty years. But, he picked up Asta and headed for the door. Looking back at Abigail, he smiled. "May fate not keep us apart so long this time."
With that, he left.
That night, they waited on a bench outside the south district library. Zephyr was growing more and more anxious the later it got. Even on a good day, sitting in one place for so long went against his nature. This time it was excruciating.
Asta was perched stiffly on the bench beside Zephyr, starting slightly with every person that bustled passed them. Abigail had been unable to give them an exact time, so she found herself simply counting breaths as each second passed, growing more an more anxious.
Not long passed sundown, though, that same staid blue dress was hurrying toward them down the slim lane. Abigail did not seem to hold much with typical Connlaothian fashions, as she'd simply pulled her hair back in a simple braid and had spurned the delicate slippers more upper-class women wore in favor of sturdy walking shoes.
She smiled when she saw them, expression changing from dour to delighted in an instant. "Thank you for waiting," she called once she was close enough. "Andre knows I've come to meet you," she told Zephyr, "but he doesn't know about Asta. He doesn't know I know. We should be able to talk in one of the reading rooms."
Once inside the reading room, he breathed a sigh of relief. "I was starting to worry that something had happened, that you were discovered or worse."
Abigail sighed, her shoulders slumping slightly. "Andre--my whole family--they still don't know who you really are," she told him. "As far as they're concerned, you are Hermes' legitimate son, who likely caught wind of the affair your father had in his youth. They are...suspicious of why you've contacted me."
She looked to Asta, her mouth turning down at the corners. "I...I don't know if I can stay in that house. Knowing what they did..." She swallowed and looked away, fists clenched and trembling lightly.
Not sure what she was supposed to do, Asta looked to Zephyr, then cautiously approached her mother. "You could...come with us?"
Abigail started, looking between them with wide eyes.
Zephyr nodded. "Yes. I could take you to a place in Northern Serendipity. We won't have to worry about the Church there. Or southern Hyoite, but it's cold there. I... can't go any further than that without getting weak."
He sighed sadly. "I so wish that I was free to go anywhere and to live any life I wanted without an unshakable duty driving me to roam."
"I...I thought about leaving," Abigail whispered. She reached up to cup Asta's face in her hands with a sad smile. "When I first found out about you," she told her daughter, "I thought, maybe...I could contact your father, and we could go somewhere. But then..."
She sighed and looked away. Asta caught her hand as it dropped. "It doesn't have to be too late," the shapeshifter whispered.
Abigail smiled at her softly. "I'm not the girl of twenty I used to be," she murmured, "eager for adventure and ready to see the world. But...maybe..."
Zephyr put a hand on Abigail's shoulder. "It doesn't have to be an adventure, but a fresh start. You're not too old for that. You deserve to be happy"
"I want you to be happy. And, even though I won't be able to always be at your side, I'll do anything else I can to make that happen."
Abigail turned her smile onto him, eyes shining. "I know." She reached out to place her hand lightly on his cheek. "I would never ask you to be anything but what you are," she told him quietly.
She looked back to Asta, then nodded slowly. "Alright. We'll...we'll find somewhere. Maybe your home, if you'd like?"
Asta chuckled a little sheepishly. "I've mostly lived in the woods."
Abigail looked sad for a moment, then shook her head. "Right. Right of course. A little house somewhere in Northern Serendipity, then. I'm afraid I'm not much of a homemaker, but between the two of us I'm sure we'll get on alright." She took her daughter's hands in hers, looking into her face earnestly. "You're sure? You want this?"
Asta nodded, speechless. Yes. Yes, she wanted this. A home, a family. It was all she'd ever wanted.
Zephyr smiled, but his bright blue eyes were full of concern. "What will you tell your family? They won't understand leaving for Serendipity, even if you tell them you're going with me to be with my 'father'."
He wondered if she could really be happy cutting ties with her family, even if they had betrayed her trust so irreconcilably.
Abigail's expression went stony. "I don't have to tell them anything," she said firmly. "I will set my affairs, collect my things, and we will leave. I am nothing but the spinster daughter they never wished for--it will be no great loss to them."
Her hands tightened around Asta's. "And I can never forget or forgive what they've done to us. To you."
"I-I'm alright," the shapeshifter found herself stammering, though she knew it wasn't true. She didn't like seeing Abigail this way--not because she didn't think her mother deserved to be angry, but because it made her chest hurt to think of the life she might have had.
"Oh, my darling." Abigail drew her into a hug, and though Asta was nearly exactly the woman's height, she felt suddenly very small in the embrace.
Over her head, Abigail said to Zephyr, "Just give me a few days to get things in order. Asta and I shall have to support ourselves somehow, but it will certainly be easier to start off with my stipend from the family coffers."
"Where should we wait for you? Perhaps an inn on the outskirts of town?" Eloping was so far out of his experience that he had no idea what to do.
Abigail nodded slowly. "That should work. I know a place--The Dancing Dove. Give them my name, and you will be treated well. I can meet you both there three days from now; I should have what we need by then."
Zephyr nodded, giving her a hug. "Promise me you'll be careful. If anything happened to you because of me, I'd..." The very idea made his chest tight.
She smiled and returned the hug. "I will. I promise." She pulled back to hold him at arm's length, eyes holding his. "Now you promise you'll take care of our girl."
Asta rolled her eyes a bit, but she was smiling behind her. Though she was pretty convinced she could take care of herself, it was...still nice to hear.
With eyes as vast and as blue as the sky, he gazed back into her eyes. "I promise." Something about the way he said it made it feel like a contract. It was a promise he meant to keep.
Three days later...
It felt like rain. That was the thought running through the elemental's head as he sat in the tavern of The Dancing Dove. He idly picked at his meal, too anxious to eat.
Asta was similarly picking at her food, occasionally managing a nibble or two.
"Do you think--" She trailed off, worrying at her lip. Then she sighed and tried again, "Do you think she's...alright? If her family wanted to--to throw me away...what if they find out she's leaving with us?"
"I'm worried too. But it's too early to presume the worst." Zephyr uncertainly took her hand and gave it a squeeze. He was trying to be reassuring, but he wasn't very good at it.
He found himself glancing at the door, hoping that this time Abigail would be there.
A hooded and cloaked figure ducked into The Dancing Dove, looking around for a moment before she spotted Zephyr and Asta at their tucked away table. Abigail hurried toward them, meeting Asta when she stood with a warm embrace.
"I'm sorry I took so long," she said as she pulled back. "Andre was...troublesome. I had to distract him somehow."
Zephyr stood as Abigail approached. He smiled at her with relief until she mentioned her brother, reminding him of the precariousness of their situation. "And you're sure that you weren't followed?"
Abigail nodded. "He doesn't even know I've left the house—he thinks I'm still in my study. It's not uncommon for me to disappear in there for days at a time."
Asta wrangler her hands together in front of her body. "We should probably still get moving soon, right?" she murmured, glancing around like a nervous doe. "Just in case?"
Zephyr nodded. "I agree. The sooner we're away from your family, the better."
"There's a roadside inn that we should be able to reach before it gets too dark."
Abigail nodded. "We should be on our way, then. I didn't bring much in the way of supplies, but I took everything from our coffers that was meant to be my dowry--and then some." Her normally bright eyes went momentarily flat with anger. "No amount of coin can make up for what they did, but it can at the very least ensure we don't starve."
And so the trio set out on the road south.
The next day, Zephyr led them on a short detour into the forest. He wanted to show them something but had yet to say what. Eventually, he stopped in a secluded clearing.
The first few hours were...a little awkward, honestly. Asta constantly felt like she should be saying something, but she didn't know what. Abigail seemed to be of a similar mindset, occasionally opening her mouth, but then closing it again and frowning at her feet.
But then she caught sight of a cluster of wood violets by the road and stopped to stroke the petals in a seemingly habitual way, and without thinking Asta said, "Those are my favorite."
Abigail looked up at her, startled for a moment, then smiled. "Mine, too."
Conversation was easier after that. By the time Zephyr led them on his detour, the two women were walking arm in arm, heads tucked together like lifelong companions rather than two people who had met less than a week ago.
"And just what are you showing us, He--Zephyr?" Abigail asked with a small chuckle at her own slip.
He turned to face them. "There is something you should both see before we go any farther. Something very few mortals have seen outside of pre-Fell civilization."
He took a breath to calm his nerves. "You both deserve to see me as I really am."
Both women paused, then exchanged a glance.
"Are--are you sure?" Abigail asked hesitantly. "If you're uncomfortable--we don't expect anything of you, you know."
Zephyr hesitated. "I... as much as I fear that you might become afraid of me... I need to know if you can truly take me as I am. And, also, Asta should know what half of her is."
He gave them both a hug and stepped back. "Whenever you're ready."
Both Abigail and Asta returned his embrace, then stepped back to give him some room. Asta nodded with a small smile, and Abigail murmured, "We're ready when you are, Zephyr."
She reached over to take her daughter's hand gently as they waited, making Asta's smile soften even further.
Zephyr stepped back a little farther, and the wind picked up. Instead of the quick shift Asta had seen before, his form billowed out into a white cloud. Slowly, it took on a vaguely animalistic shape. When the wind settled and the obscuring mist parted, a huge, white tiger stood in his place. He was easily twenty feet long, and covered in a wavy pattern of blue stripes.
The great beast bowed his head, his strange red horns glinting in the sunlight. "This... is me."
Both women were silent for several long moments. Then Abigail smiled and tilted her head slightly. "You've always been beautiful, Zephyr," she told him softly.
Asta shook her head wonderingly. "I just...can't believe someone like you helped make, well...me. I just--how."
Abigail, despite the awe in her eyes, smiled crookedly. "Well, you see, darling, when an ancient elemental embodiment and an over-eager scholar love each other very much--"
"No! No no no no, thank you, no," Asta squealed, clapping her hands over her ears while Abigail burst into gales of laughter.
The spirit laughed, deep and rumbling like a storm. He came close enough to gently nudge the mother of his child. "That's enough teasing the young woman."
"Oh, I suppose," Abigail chuckled, and Asta dropped her hands, pouting theatrically.
"You know, if ever I thought of having parents, this wasn't exactly what I had in mind," the shapeshifter grumbled, but she was smiling.
Abigail reached out a hand toward Zephyr, hesitated, then asked, "May I...?"
"Of course." He nuzzled her hand with a purr. His fur was as soft as a cloud, producing a barely noticeable tingle where it touched her skin.
Abigail smiled and stroked his fur a little more confidently, her smile widening when Asta cautiously moved forward to join her.
"I could never be something like this," their daughter murmured, sounding just a bit awestruck. "I could try to learn this shape a thousand years, and I just know I would never find it."
He purred more fervently as Asta joined in. "Even I don't take this form often. Far too conspicuous. But it does feel good to unwind."
Thinking he heard a leaf crunch, he suddenly turned his head to listen.
Asta turned her head at the same time; though her human ears weren't quite as sensitive, she both trusted Zephyr's senses, and had enough hunted-animal instinct herself to be automatically wary.
Abigail paused, looking between the two of them. "What is it?"
"I..." Asta frowned. "I'm not sure..."
A squirrel raced out from a bush and up a tree. Zephyr chuckled, and the tension left him. "False alarm. Sorry. I'm just on edge, especially in this form."
"Perhaps it's best I change back."
Both Asta and Abigail relaxed, relieved, and nodded at him. "Of course. Whatever you're most comfortable with," Abigail told him gently.
Seeing Zephyr shift had made Asta a little antsy in her human skin herself. She shifted from foot to foot, debating the merits of changing her form for a while--she wasn't used to being in one shape for so long.
Zephyr arched his back with a pleased sound before he compressed himself back into his human guise. He sighed wistfully. "It was nice to stretch a little."
"Come, we should get back on the road," he said, starting to head back.
"Of course." Abigail nodded in agreement, then started slightly when Asta decided she needed to shift after all and took the shape of a smallish white squirrel. She smiled and bent to hold her hand out, and Asta quickly scurried up onto her shoulder.
"Right then. Off we go."
It was nearly a week later by the time they were approaching the Serenian border, and Abigail began talking about the actual logistics of their plan. For example: where exactly were they going to live?
"I have enough coin to find us a small bit of land," she was saying as they approached a small border town. "But I don't know the sort of thing you'd like?"
The last was mostly directed at Asta, who gave her mother a helpless little shrug. "I'm...not sure that I know the sort of thing I'd like," she admitted with a tiny laugh. "I know I don't like manors."
Abigail chuckled as well. "I don't think we need to worry much about that possibility, dearest."
"I know a few people where we're going who can help us find a place," Zephyr supplied. "They've helped me smuggle mages out of Connloath before, so we trust them."
Observing the town ahead, he said, "We're not out of Connloath yet, though. But people near the border aren't as paranoid about magic as the rest of the country."
"Right, of course." Abigail looked to her daughter. "Do you prefer to stay human for the night?"
Asta smiled a bit, as she did every time Abigail asked. It was a quiet wonder to her, that after the initial shock of their meeting, Abigail didn't seem to care one whit that she could change forms as easy as breathing; she only made a point to ask after her comfort.
"I think so," she replied with a grateful nod. Abigail nodded.
"We'll need a room to sleep three then," she said easily.
"It's agreed then." Zephyr smiled warmly, making himself look closer to her age. "A night as a normal family on the road sounds wonderful. Well, as normal as possible."
The past week had been the happiest time that the spirit could remember, and he found himself remembering more than he had in a long time. He could now remember every moment with Abigail, and that he genuinely never connected with any other being than he had with her. Perhaps that was how he actually fathered a child.
Dusk stained the world in red and orange by the time they reached town. Somehow, it seemed more red than usual, but he chalked that up to his own anxiety. He couldn't escape the thought that Fate would try and prevent him from straying for its plan.
Abigail snorted quietly. "You would age well," she teased Zephyr lightly. "You know, if you actually aged."
Asta lifted a hand to hide her smile as she trailed a bit behind them on the road, watching the way they walked--close together, but not quite touching. Abigail's hand would occasionally drift over to rest on his arm for a moment, but she didn't seem to want to risk proper physical affection.
It was...sweet.
She chuckled to herself again as they reached an inn, reflecting that there were probably rather few people who would be genuinely joyful to see their parents acting like a newly courting couple.
Zephyr held the door open like a gentleman before following them inside.
The inn was small but cleaner than one would expect so far from a city. Hungry, they found an empty table in the corner and sat down. After ordering food, they had an opportunity to play the family that they wanted to be.
"It's a far cry from Uthlyn, but it seems like an upstanding place."
Asta nodded, as ever more observant than she was talkative. She looked around the common room of the inn curiously, distractedly sipping at a mug of a warm, spiced wine that Abigail had procured for her.
"I hope you still like peach cider," her mother said quietly as she slid another glass to Zephyr, smiling softly.
"I never stopped ordering it." Zephyr smiled. "It helped me to keep you fixed in my mind like you are in my heart."
Predicting rolled eyes, he looked to Asta and said, "Just be glad your parents found each other again after all this time."
Asta rolled her eyes and giggled at them even as Abigail blushed and leaned in to peck his cheek. The shifter hadn't seen the two of them display much open affection, despite the obvious love that was in the way they simply looked at one another, and she found it...sweet.
"I am glad," she told Zephyr unironically, sipping at her drink again.
"I'm glad to know I haven't entirely lost my touch," Abigail chuckled lightly, clinking her own glass against Zephyr's before she drank. Now that they looked the same age again, she seemed suddenly much more comfortable showing casual affection.
"You always did make me feel like the kid I never was," he laughed airily, grinning before he drank.
For a second, Abigail caught sight of a vaguely familiar man headed up to the rooms. Something about him made her frightened and angry.
Abigail's tension was quick and cool, her expression sliding from warm affection to something wary and closed in an instant. Asta felt herself stiffening in response.
"...Abigail?" she asked quietly. Despite her time traveling with them, she still couldn't bring herself to call either Abigail or Zephyr "Mother" or "Father".
The older woman shook her head. "I--nothing, I'm sorry. I thought...I saw someone familiar, that's all. I'm sure it's nothing."
"Are you sure?" Zephyr asked, concerned by her change of expression. "You look almost pale."
A bard began to play, providing a much welcome distraction from talking about the subject, if she needed one.
Abigail still seemed a little uncomfortable, but she made a clear effort to put it from her mind. "I'm just...nervous, I suppose," she said with a self-deprecating little laugh. "I'll feel better once we're over the border."
Asta nodded in emphatic agreement; though she had spent a good portion of her life in the wilds of the Sirantil Valley, the last few weeks had taught her that she didn't care much for the more "civilized" portions of Connlaoth.
Zephyr chuckled and took Abigail's hand. "I won't be resting well tonight either. I'm not sure I've ever thought so hard about what tomorrow will bring."
"I don't know how people do it; it's exhausting." He wasn't joking; he really didn't know.
Abigail's expression softened and she laced her fingers through his. "Well, usually... We talk to one another," she told him quietly. "We share our joys, our sorrows. Our hopes and plans that may go awry or may play out perfectly."
Her smile widened as she looked to Asta and reached out to stroke her daughter's hair with her other hand. "It doesn't exactly make those silly little intricacies of life less exhausting--but it helps to know that you don't bare them alone."
Asta smiled and tilted her head into her mother's hand with a low purring sound that wasn't entirely human.
"And fears?" he asked hesitantly. "Do you share those with the people you love?"
The serving girl brought them their food and left them with a smile. It smelled quite good.
Abigail smiled as she lifted his hand and pressed a quick kiss to the back of it. "We don't always," she answered honestly, "but we should."
Asta focused on her plate, feeling suddenly as though she was intruding on a private moment.
"I..." Zephyr hesitated, uncertain of himself. "I'm afraid that the force that guides my travels won't allow me to have you, either of you, for long; that it will find a way to make me alone again."
"I find myself wishing to be free of it, to be mortal, to grow old with you... or at least be able to choose my own fate for once."
"Oh, love." Abigail smiled sadly and stroked his cheek. She drew close enough to press her brow to his gently. "I cannot give you answers," she murmured. "But I can shoulder your worries with you. And I can tell you that it will take more than my mortality to keep me from you, truly."
Not wanting to interrupt the moment, but feeling she must add something, Asta reached across the table to touch his hand lightly and gave him a small nod and a smile of her own.
Zephyr silently enjoyed the contact, letting his worries ebb. Smiling softly, he said, "What did I do to deserve you two?"
In the morning...
After a simple breakfast, the trio returned the room key to the innkeeper. Zephyr, having insisted on carrying Abigail's pack, hitched it up on his back and smiled. "Weather permitting, we should be in Serendipity by tomorrow."
"I'll be relieved to be in the highlands," Asta said with a sigh, her arm linked through Abigail's. "I know we won't be able to get far, but it is lovely terrain."
Abigail looked as though she was going to respond, then paused, frowning back over her shoulder. Asta cocked her head. "Is something wrong?"
"No, just..." Her mother shook her head with a small huff. "I could swear I know that man, I just don't know from where."
Picking up on her tension, Asta felt her shoulders stiffen. She pressed a little closer. "Maybe we should get off the main road?" she suggested quietly.
Zephyr glanced back at the man across the common room as they exited the inn. He didn't like the way the stranger was watching them while trying to look like he wasn't. He knew a predator when he saw one.
"Stay close," he whispered, "whoever they are, we should be wary."
Unsurprisingly, the man left the inn shortly after them. They were definitely being followed.
Abigail pulled Asta in a little closer to her side protectively, reaching out with her other hand for Zephyr's.
"Maybe getting off the road is a good idea," she murmured, making a concerted effort not to look back, as though she hadn't noticed the man following them.
As they left town and the main road behind, it appeared that they had lost their tail. But just as Zephyr was about to sigh with relief, he tensed, growling quietly.
Several men appeared all around them, armed with rifles, spears, and faintly shimmering nets. They were prepared to take on what they likely thought was a mage with beast-shifting magic. Stepping forward, the man Abigail couldn't place smiled flatly.
"I must apologize, Miss Blythe. Despite my rather crude and heavy-handed manner of asking for an audience, I mean you no harm," the man said, like a fairy tale wolf trying to lure in his prey with false promises. "I am but a simple procurer of lost things, here on behalf of your family to bring you home safely. They are most worried."
Abigail immediately shoved Asta behind her, reaching out for Zephyr seemingly instinctively.
She narrowed her eyes at the stranger, voice form despite the slight trembling in her fingers. "And just what exactly gives you the right to do so? I left my family's home willingly, serrah, and you may return and tell them so."
The man tutted and shook his head. "It seems she has been bewitched," he said to the mage hunters with him. "As we feared."
The man continued with more false politeness. "But, in case reason will break the spell, I will make you an offer. We will let the mage and his accursed spawn go if you come willingly."
Zephyr's white hair and clothing started to darken like an oncoming storm. He usually held some sympathy for even the men he punished, for they did not know what they had angered. But this was different. They were threatening his family.
"I—I do know you," Abigail said quietly, not looking away from the stranger. "You were there. The night—I saw you outside the manor, you were talking with Andre, I...I thought..."
She backed up a step, one arm out in front of Asta protectively. "You took my baby," she whispered, almost dreamlike. "You took my baby from me..."
The wind suddenly picked up, angry gusts whistling through the trees. Immediately, the men trained their rifles on Asta. "Cease your sorcery at once, mage. That is, if you don't want to see the abomination killed first," the man threatened.
Zephyr calmed the wind, and his hair and clothing lightened as he reigned in his fury. He couldn't fight this many men without Asta or Abigail getting hurt. He'd never forgive himself if his wrath got them killed. Besides, he never wanted them to see that side of him.
The man sneered, politeness gone. "Good. Now... come with us willingly, or they die. It's not even murder to kill practicing mages caught in the act of kidnapping Connloathian citizens."
Asta was trembling, frozen in place. Abigail looked from her daughter to the father of her child, her expression morphing from shock to grief.
"I—-" She swallowed, then closed her eyes, her shoulders slumping. Ignoring the mage hunters, she reached out to take Zephyr's hand with one of hers and Asta's with the other. "I will fix this," she whispered to them. "Go to Serendipity. I...I'll find you there."
Asta shook her head. "But..."
Abigail smiled sadly and stroked her cheek. "You have to go, baby. I won't let you be hurt for my sake."
Zephyr looked like a piece of his heart was being torn out, as if he would never see her again. He sighed sadly and did his best to look brave. "I'll keep her safe. Just... whatever happens, remember that I love you."
The stranger cleared his throat. "Enough sentimental farewells. The longer I take, the less I get paid."
Abigail's eyes welled yo, and she pulled him in for a quick kiss before turning to hug Asta tightly.
"I love you both," she told them softly as she pulled away. Glaring at the stranger, she said with cool dignity, "I find myself not much caring how much you get paid, serrah, so you will simply have to wait."
Still, she began to cross the small space between her family and the mage hunters.
The leader of the group smirked, extending a hand to her genteelly. She took it with clear distaste—and he jerked her forward, nodding to his men.
"Kill them both."
"NO!"
The hunters opened fire, but Zephyr shoved Asta down and covered her. Several bloodless holes appeared across his body, each hit bringing out a growl of ever-increasing savagery. After the last, he fell silent as he played dead.
Asta could feel the storm brewing in her father's heart. These men were going to die, and badly.
"Zephyr!"
Whether Abigail realized he was playing dead and was trying to play along, or whether she thought he might actually be dead, it didn't matter--that scream was one of the worst things Asta had ever heard.
"Take the head," the man who was restraining her mother ordered. "We'll need proof the mage is dead. And check if the girl is still breathing."
The shapeshifter heard footsteps approaching. In barely a breath, she whispered, "If you keep them busy, I can shift and get to Abigail."
"Be careful," he whispered through his growing anger.
Suddenly, with a bestial roar, a powerful burst of air emanated from him, knocking back the men coming for his head. His form became that of a humanoid tiger, with fur the color of a thundercloud and eyes as bright as lightning. He rushed forward like the wind, tearing into the nearest men like a gale full of sharp blades. Three were dead before the others regrouped enough to attack.
Zephyr growled at them. "Run now, and perhaps you'll live a few moments longer."
"And you..." Asta didn't have time--and she didn't really know how--to tell him that she worried less for his safety, and more that his anger might get the best of him. She didn't think he would ever harm her or her mother, even by accident; but she had seen how much meting out justice could weigh on him, and she worried for that.
But no time. Zephyr roard, and she rolled out from under him as wind burst away from where they lay, taking the form of a large forest cat. She darted for Abigail, who had taken the opportunity to kick her captor squarely in the fork of his legs and was trying to twist out of his grip.
"Damned bitch!" The man who had left Asta to die as an infant snarled. "Someone--!"
Asta yowled and slashed her claws down the back of his thigh. He cried out, releasing Abigail's wrist and going down on one knee.
"Run!" Abigail shouted as she tried to cover her daughter's escape. Asta shook her head firmly. Not without you.
The mage hunters who were left seemed to be considering Zephyr's ultimatum: this was not what they had been hired for, and not a one of them was prepared for it. One of the men bolted, though the rest hefted their weapons and nets warily.
Zephyr called forth his bow and launched an arrow after the runner, hitting him in the leg. When he went down screaming, another hunter shot Zephyr square in the chest. But the spirit wasn't of flesh and blood and only staggered.
"What sort of devil are you?!" the leader called out through clenched teeth.
The guardian snarled, "I'm not the monster here, assassin." He lunged forward, landing on the offending rifleman as a tiger and wasting no more time before ending his life between powerful jaws.
Zephyr looked around, licking the blood from his face as he counted the remaining hunters. He counted seven: two with spears, two with rifles, one with a net, and two wounded. The riflemen stowed their guns and drew short swords.
The net caught the tiger as he charged, tangling around him and bringing him to the ground. He snarled defiantly as his body "bled" mist where the treated rope made contact. While ultimately made of air, the spirit was still a solid entity and couldn't simply phase through the rope. Not without risking his family by going all-out; his true form packed a lot of power.
Asta had managed to shepherd Abigail towards the edge of the glade that served as a battlefield, sheltering behind the trees as best they could, and she called out to Zephyr in beastspeak, We're clear!
The mage hunters still on their feet began closing in around the elemental, regaining some confidence as he seemed to be trapped by their net.
To the hunters' dismay, the tiger dissolved into a cloud. Unlike before, this cloud was dark and tumultuous, brimming with impending violence. The cloud expanded until it parted to reveal the true elemental beast.
Whereas before he appeared gentle and noble, now he was nature's fury incarnate. An arc of electricity jumped between his horns as he roared, causing violent gusts to batter the hunters. Small whirlwinds erupted with each step he took, carrying leaves and twigs into the air. Then, without warning, he pounced and tore the spearmen apart while only managing to make direct contact with one; so violent were the winds around him.
Abigail gasped, ducking down to cover Asta as best she could instinctively. Asta has shifted into the form of a white doe, kneeling down and curving her neck to hide her head from the explosive wind.
"Zephyr..." Abigail tried to shield her eyes against the wind. "Zephyr! They're dead—it's okay, we're safe!" she called, trying to pull him back.
Zephyr couldn't, or wouldn't, hear her plea; he was too deep in his fury. He went after the others one by one until only the leader was left in any shape to survive. The paw of the great beast pinned the man to the ground and his great head lowered the breath in the fear of the one who tried to kill his daughter twice.
"P-please! I--I didn't know!" the man begged, nearly crying.
Zephyr growled, baring his teeth. "Why should I spare you when I didn't spare your hired killers? Why should I spare any of your wretched, arrogant faith? I would kill your god if it was within my power."
"Zephyr."
Abigail had braved his storm to come stand beside him, curling her fingers into the fur of his shoulders.
"You're right," she told him softly. "You're right. But please...come back to me. Make this choice in justice, not in anger..."
Asta had crept up behind her mother in human form, and she cautiously reached out to lay a hand on Zephyr's fur as well. "I'm alright," she whispered.
The touch of his loved ones snapped Zephyr back to himself. He let his fury subside, his fur lightening as the storm in his heart passed. He was still gray, but not the dark gray of a thundercloud, more like an overcast day.
"Why? Why should I protect them?" he asked sadly. "Why, when they have turned my domain into a place full of delusion and hatred for that which composes the world itself?"
Abigail moved forward to embrace him, arms wrapped around his neck tightly.
"I don't know," she murmured. "I—I really don't, Zephyr. I just know that you do, and I have loved you for it from the moment I met you."
Asta kept an eye on the downed hunter as her parents embraced, but he seemed to have been neutralized as a threat; he was simply lying there, panting and wide-eyed.
The elemental whitened further and shrank down to his human self. "I'm so tired of this," he sighed, averting his eyes. This also meant he had taken his foot, and his attention, off of his prisoner.
The man's terror abated somewhat, and his breathing slowed. He gave Asta a hateful stare but had yet to try anything.
"I never wanted you to see me like that." Zephyr's voice was uncharacteristically small.
"I know, love," Abigail whispered, drawing him into a hug once he was of a size that she could do so. "I know..."
Asta bared her teeth at the hunter, but didn't say anything. She just wanted this to be over.
So much so that she had glanced back to her parents longingly, eyes off their adversary for just long for him to draw a small pistol, aim, and fire.
Abigail had been the only one facing him, with Zephyr still in her arms. Her eyes widened and she didn't even have time to speak, just shoved away from the elemental and grabbed her daughter in a single motion, shoving Asta out of the way, before she completed the spin and brought the small knife she kept tucked in her skirts down on the hunter.
The blade sank into his throat, and she snarled, "You will never hurt my baby again..."
It all happened in a heartbeat. Then Abigail swayed, one hand to the bloody hole in her corset, and fell sideways.
"Mother!"
Zephyr swiftly caught her, eyes wide in shock. "No, no, no, no, no," he repeated as he kneeled with Abigail in his arms. "I can't lose you... not like this..."
His tone was heartbroken and heartbreaking, pleading and desperate. "No. I won't let you die." He tore open her corset to look at the wound.
"Mother, Mother..."
"Shhh." Abigail reached out to grasp Asta's hand as the shapeshifter collapsed beside them, her breath rattling horrifyingly in her chest. When Zephyr exposed the wound, Asta whimpered helplessly; the shot had landed squarely beneath her breastbone, and there was no exit wound.
"It's--it's okay," Abigail gasped, reaching up with the hand that had been pressed to her wound to cup Zephyr's cheek. "It's okay," she repeated weakly. Her eyes were fluttering, but she smiled at them both. "I love you. I love you both so much..."
Zephyr world shattered the instant he felt her warm blood on his cheek. He held her close, rocking her gently in his arms. "Don't go... please," he pleaded, his voice cracking as, for the first time in his existence, he shed tears.
"I love you too mu--much to be without y-you again."
"Oh, my darling..." Abigail sighed. "You will never...be without me."
She smiled weakly, pulling Asta's hand closer so she could press it to her chest. "Nor you, my dear one," she whispered. "A mother's love is not so fragile a thing that...that death can stop it..."
"Please." Asta was sobbing, feeling her mother's heartbeat stutter and slow beneath her palm. "Mama, please..."
"Remember," Abigail said, suddenly fierce. Her hand on Zephyr's cheek slid down to wrap weakly around the back of his neck. "Remember...I love you...I love you...both...so much..."
Asta felt her heart stop. For a moment, she was frozen, disbelieving. No. No, they couldn't go through all that for it to end like this, no no no--
"No no no no." She didn't realize she was speaking aloud. "No, Mama, open your eyes, please, please!"
Zephyr, on the other hand, was quietly embracing his love and sobbing. Once he had started crying, the tears flowed like rain. He thought that he would hold her long past her soul left her body.
"We were supposed to be a family..." he said, lost and empty and cursing cruel Fate.
He didn't notice the glow...
Asta continued to plead uselessly, her tears mixing with Zephyr's as they fell on Abigail's cheek. For a long moment, she didn't notice the glow either.
Then it spread, moving from Abigail's core to gradually encase her whole body; a soft, pale green shimmer that suddenly made Asta think--despite everything--of spring shoots, new birth.
"Dad..." she whispered, eyes widening as she sat back. "Dad, look..."
The glow had begun to encompass Zephyr where he held Abigail to his body, creeping over his hands, his chest, spreading out. Then it pulsed, flashed brightly, and Asta threw up a hand to shield her eyes instinctively.
And then:
"...Darlings..."
Asta dropped her hand and gaped.
Abigail stood above them--not the Abigail she had known in life, the empty shell that her father still held, but a younger version, maybe about the same age Asta was herself. The age she would have been when Asta was born, when she first knew Zephyr. She was shimmering at the edges, the faintest tendrils of that green glow connecting her half-translucent form to the halo that now encompassed her body and Zephyr.
Zephyr was equally stunned by the sight, looking up at her with perplexed wonder. He followed the connecting tendrils with his eyes and could swear that he--that he could feel her.
"What...? What is this? I--how? This is my essence... Why do you... " He couldn't even bring a complete thought together.
Abigail--or rather, this strange after-image of Abigail--smiled and lifted her hand, turning it back and forth in front of her face.
"I had a theory," she murmured, "but it faded after... When I was pregnant, I felt...different. Stronger. More powerful. When I learned what you were, I thought...it was possible that my body had absorbed some of your power while I carried Asta. But after she was born, it...faded."
She laughed quietly and dropped her hand. "It seems I must return to you, my love."
Asta blinked. "Re--return?" she repeated, utterly lost. "What--how--?"
Abigail turned her eyes to her daughter, and her smile softened. "Oh, my dearest girl." She reached out to cup her cheek, and the touch felt half-real, like wind given shape. Asta leaned into it anyway, whimpering quietly.
"I don't know," her mother whispered. She looked to Zephyr, grief and love at war in her bright green eyes. "I don't know...I think--I think part of me has bled into whatever power of yours I absorbed. But I don't know..."
She closed her eyes and shuddered. Her form flickered, becoming briefly more transparent. Asta reached for her instinctively.
"I--I don't think I have...much time," Abigail breathed.
Zephyr found himself reaching for his love's ghostly hand. "Only part?" he asked, both hopeful to never truly lose her and fearful for what that meant for the peaceful afterlife she deserved.
He no longer cared how this was happening.
Abigail smiled and shook her head at him--she truly didn't know.
"Enough," she said after a moment. "I feel like...me. The most distilled version of me, perhaps. But I think..."
She shuddered again, and when her form flickered, it took longer to come back into focus. "I'm so sorry, my loves," she whispered, cupping Zephyr's cheek in one hand and Asta's in the other. "I don't think I can...hold this form for long...I..."
She closed her eyes as though concentrating, then breathed, "I am with you. I am always with you..."
She faded, her form dissipating into the greenish glow that had surrounded her body. Except...
Except her body was no longer there. For just a moment, where Zephyr had been cradling her form, there was an outline of green light. Then it was shrinking, faster and faster, until it solidified into a stone of bright green jade, about half the size of a human palm.
The stone seemed to tremble, then it leaped, fastening itself to Zephyr's chest, right in the center of his breastbone, as whatever scrap of power Abigail had absorbed, whatever piece of his essence his love for her had instilled and allowed her to carry their child, locked itself back into place in his physical form.
Zephyr closed his eyes and floated up as the jewel manifested. His arms jerked back as if he were caught in a great wind. The jewel leaped into him, and he crossed his arms in an empty embrace before floating back down onto his feet.
He smiled lovingly as he opened his eyes, and, for just a moment, Asta could see both of her parents in his eyes. "Oh, my love... I had no idea just how much love one could feel... "
Asta was left kneeling in place, staring wide-eyed at the...transformation? Joining?
She didn't know what to call it, but...it was beautiful.
Then, cautiously, she murmured, "D-Dad...?"
Zephyr blinked himself back to the present, his expression growing bittersweet. "Yes, Asta, I'm here. She is too, in a way," he said, running a finger over the jewel on his chest, which he had yet to cover.
Asta just stared up at him for a moment longer--then her face crumpled and her breath caught jaggedly in her chest as the shock, relief, and grief of what had just happened caught up with her all at once.
She curled in on herself, sobbing. Her mother was gone--except she wasn't, not really. Not entirely. But...she didn't know what this meant. She didn't know what to think, how to feel.
Zephyr rushed to hold her. "Shh. Shh." He rubbed her back gently. "I don't understand this either. But I can feel how much she still loves you... loves us. And she may be weak, but she will gain strength as--" He paused as the full truth hit him. "As part of me."
Asta cried harder when he held her, clinging to him and hiding her face against his shoulder.
"Sh-she..." She gulped breathlessly, then wailed, "She pushed me...out of the way..."
She whimpered quietly, trying to pull away from him abruptly. "It w-was my f-f-fault!"
Zephyr held on, tilting her chin up towards him so she could look at him.
"No. If it was anyone's but her family's and that man's, it was mine. If I ha--" He trembled with guilt and anger. "If I had killed him when I had the chance, then she'd still be alive."
"She asked you not to," Asta choked out. "She—she said she...didn't want you to do it out of anger. If he died, it needed to be justice."
She glanced at the body of the mage hunter, then quickly away again, gulping air as she struggled to control her sobs.
Zephyr was filled with sorrow, not knowing how to comfort her.
If you can hear me, please, he asked the part of Abigail within him, What can I say?
The faintest whisper answered: Just hold her. Tell her she isn't alone. That's all you can do...
Asta had devolved to hiccuping little breaths, tears drawing tracks down her cheeks in the dust that had been stirred up from the conflict.
He held her close, drying her tears with his soft shirt. "You aren't alone. I'm with you."
It took a little while longer for Asta's weeping to subside enough that she seemed once more properly coherent. She had curled into Zephyr's side, staring vacantly at the glade around them.
"We..." She swallowed thickly. "We should...go. I don't—I can't stay in this place..."
He nodded slowly, helping her to her feet. "I agree. The sooner we leave, the better."
The spirit adjusted his clothing to cover the gem on his chest and walked away with her. Once back on the main road, they proceeded towards Serendipity.
That night, they found a secluded spot hidden from view by large rocks. As long as they didn't start a fire, they shouldn't be bothered. Zephyr became a tiger for Asta to cuddle up against.
"Rest. We should cross the border in the morning."
Asta had taken the form of a doe somewhere along the breadth of their trek, and she kept the shape as she settled in next to Zephyr in their makeshift "camp".
...I miss her already, she admitted in quiet beastspeech.
The tiger put a foreleg over her. I do too, precious star. He sounded more maternal than usual, likely from Abigail's presence inside him.
Asta sighed heavily and tucked herself in close against him, spindly legs curled up under her body and her head stretched out to rest lightly next to his paw.
I don't...know what to do now. She sighed again, a few quiet tears leaking onto her snow white fur. Without her... We were going to make a home somewhere. I don't—I don't think I can do that on my own...
I don't know either. He sounded sad, though he was taking it better due to being able to feel his love's presence within him. I just know she would want you to be safe and happy... and my inescapable mission is neither.
But I also don't know if I could bear to leave your side for such long journeys.
Asta lifted her head slightly to look at him, then pressed her nose forward to nuzzle his cheek briefly. Maybe...we can talk about it more in the morning, she suggested as she let her head drop back to the ground with another little sigh.
Good night, Father.
Good night, daughter.
The morning came without incident. When both were fully awake, Zephyr returned to human form to prepare the rations. There had been enough death of late, and he had lost his appetite for blood, at least for a while.
Asta had shifted twice in her sleep—first briefly to human, and then to a moon-white barn owl.
She blinked pale eyes open when she felt Zephyr stirring, then hopped forward to clack her beak curiously at what he was doing.
Morning. She cocked her head at him. Do you—can she...hear me, do you think?
"Morning." Zephyr checked the travel bread for mold and insects, nodding as he found it safe to eat. "I believe she can, after a fashion. It's just difficult for her to talk to me. Is there something you want to say to her?"
Asta bobbed her head, considering. I guess, just...I was just wondering, really. I think...she knows I miss her. But I'm-- She paused, then shifted carefully into human shape before continuing slowly, "Maybe it's selfish, but I'm...I'm glad she's still here. Even if it's not...what we wanted. I'm glad she's with you."
He gave her a sad smile as he handed her some food. "I am too. I just... worry that I'm robbing her of a peaceful afterlife. She deserves her reward, if there is such a thing."
"Maybe..." Asta said slowly. Then she gave him a sad smile and reached out to place her hand lightly on his arm. "But I think...I dunno, maybe I'm just trying to make myself feel better, but when she spoke to us, it seemed like...like she was holding on. Like she wanted to stay."
There was the faintest pulse of agreement from the gem in Zephyr's chest.
He placed his hand over the gem and his sad smile grew less sad. "I think I just felt her agree. I believe she wanted to stay with us for as long as she can, and seized the one chance she had to do so."
Asta nodded slowly, and her own smile as a mix of sorrow and something a little lighter when she looked up at him. "I'm...glad you won't be alone," she murmured.
It wasn't until she'd said it that she realized the implication of the words: that she wouldn't be staying with him. They hadn't really had time--or the emotional capacity--to talk about what came next; but she knew that regardless of what happened, one day she would leave him. Whether that meant simply finding her own niche in the world, or the inevitability of her own mortal death...eventually, she'd be gone, too.
Almost as if he had read her mind, he hugged her and said, "I wish I didn't have this calling, but I'll do my best to at least see to it that you aren't alone. And I will visit as often as I can, though it could be weeks or years in between depending on where the winds of fate carry me."
She hugged him back tightly. "I know," she murmured, and though there was sorrow in her voice, there was understanding too. "I know, Dad." She pulled back a bit and smiled at him slightly. "Saying that is...gonna take some getting used to," she chuckled quietly.
He grinned. "I like it, though. And, for the record, I feel strange hearing it too."
"Now, eat. You'll be much safer once we reach the fort city at the border," he urged.
She smiled and nodded, tucking into the rations obediently. "I think I might...go back to the wilds," she murmured in between bites. "There are some places in the forest in northern Serendipity--you'd be able to reach me, but I could keep myself out of the kind of trouble I'd run into in Connlaoth."
He, too, began to eat. Swallowing, he asked, "You don't want to try living with people that won't attack you just for being what you are?"
It hadn't occurred to him that, without her mother, the plan might change.
"I..." She sighed, considering that. "Maybe," she said after a few moments. "I just..."
She looked away, drawing her lower lip between her teeth. "I don't--I know it isn't fair of me, but I just..." She shook her head. "It feels like...every time I try to be around people, something goes wrong. Maybe it's them, maybe it's me, I don't know. But I just don't think I'm built for it."
The elemental took a moment to consider his response. "You've been in the wilds your whole life. I can't imagine that you wouldn't be wary of trying to live in a world completely foreign to your experience." His soft expression grew a little more serious. "And if you need time or even if you never decide to leave the wild, if that's what you really need, I'm sure your mother would understand."
"You think so?" She glanced at him with a small, slightly melancholy smile. She drew in a deep breath, then let it slowly back out again with a nod.
"Yeah. Yeah, I think you're right." Another breath. "I think...I'm ready to go home." She looked back to him again and promised, "I'll make sure I stay in your range. Maybe...maybe I really will build a little cottage somewhere, like she wanted. Just...away from other people. For a while."
He smiled softly. "That sounds like a fine plan. And I'm not leaving you just yet. I need to guide you through the fort, and I'd at least like to see the area you choose."
Asta nodded and smiled at him. "Yes. That sounds nice." She leaned into him slightly, then pulled away and stood, stretched her arms up over her head to reacclimate herself to a human form after sleeping most of the night as an animal.
"Well. I suppose we had better get moving."
Zephyr nodded and hefted their pack over his shoulder. "Then let's go. It's high time you were free from Connloath."
The pair walked on towards the border of Connloath with the assurance of better days to come for the shifter. At least, after the grief of losing her mother's physical existence waned. Until then, being safe would have to be enough.