He means to relax only a moment.
The grooved bark presses uncomfortably against his skin. Summer’s heat is oppressive and heavy; the humidity almost fills his lungs. It’s an altogether inhospitable environment to rest one’s weary bones, and yet, despite all this, Ramiel feels himself being lulled to sleep. His eyes flutter and then seem to fasten closed. His breathing becomes deeper, more even with each passing moment. Even the raucous of the birds chirping their joyful noise becomes muted, before the sound is snuffed out entirely. The colt rests easily and quickly, knowing he is safe in the embrace of his home. Perhaps because sleep has come so hurriedly, it takes little interruption to pull him back out of it.
A bright light flashes, burning even through his eyelids (later, he shudders to think what might have happened had he not had them closed). It startles him from his sudden slumber. He becomes alert immediately, thinking reality had been the dream – that he is still on Carnage’s quest and might be forevermore. Where does he have to go now? What monsters would luck and little skill (in truth) allow him to escape? He looks around wildly, scouring the treeline and searching the meadow nestled within. His young body tenses in preparation for fight or flight (with growing experience for the first and an appreciation for the necessity of the second). When he locates the source of the light he is happily surprised, but he doesn’t relax.
It’s his sister. His impossibly, wholly-broken sister.
He had worried for her throughout the entire ordeal. They had been obvious and quick allies. She had responded to his cry for help, and together, they had ridden on the back of a space ray. They had reached the wormhole – he had seen its radiant light reflected in her eyes, eyes that were wide with wonder like his – but then she had disappeared. The wormhole spit him onto the flats of the apocalypse utterly alone. Ramiel knew she hadn’t died (she hadn’t been at that beach at least. Would he have stayed if she had been?) but he also didn’t know how she’d survived.
Seeing her now in their childhood home, he is immeasurably glad. The cracks splitting her skin everywhere clue him into the fact that she probably feels far less so. Had the wormhole done this to her? Had she missed the stop; had she been left behind in space? He is unmarked (save for the healing wound from the tentacle which had gripped his thigh) but also different, she just can’t see it. Not in the way he can see her changes, the light that dances under her skin and sets her aglow; a shattered lightbulb still flickering. He moves a few steps towards her, ready to console or counsel or whatever she wants. But she rejects him, and looking at their surroundings, at the wounded trees and rocks, he understands why. Not that it will stop him.
“Josc.” Ramiel steps to within feet of her but doesn’t close the distance. Not yet. His golden eyes find hers’ before he starts to access the rest of the damage. He thinks better of it immediately, however, and finds her gaze again. There’s an anger he’s never seen but also a spirit that he’s completely familiar with. A spirit that had broken curfew and boundaries alike, with him. He thinks if anything will pull her through it will be that. “I will never go away.” A ghost of a smile touches his lips because she probably knows it, and in this moment, she probably resents it, too. He wants to comment on how impressive her light was, but a dark thought sudden comes to him. “Does it…hurt? I think father can help you if it does.”
r a m i e l
what a day to begin again