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Une vie à vieillir avec toi (A Life to Grow Old With You)
Year 3 Après 33
It has been 3 years since Expedition 33 came back victorious.
There was no longer a Paintress to rob people of their ability to dream. The people of Lumière have slowly adjusted to living life without counting down their years left. The annual Gommage has been replaced with the anniversary of Expedition 33’s success. Every succeeding expedition after that had evolved into shorter and safer trips there and back. More exploratory jaunts and less suicide mission.
Lumière was changing, flourishing even. In it, Lune and Sciel blossomed in a way that they only dared to dream of when they were still fighting with just less than a year left on the Continent.
Sciel, who was just going with the flow until death embraced her, rediscovered reasons why life was worth living. She had revived her farm and resumed teaching at the schoolhouse. An old life that she was content to return to as if it was a friend welcoming her back home. Except now she had Lune instead in her home to welcome her back.
Lune, who built her life on a singular mission, found out that she was more than that after fulfilling her role. She created a new harmony which blended duty and passion. When she wasn’t busy with the archives, she either had her nose deep in her personal research or her hands busy with the strings of her guitar.
All the while, Lumière had been a safe haven for them to bloom like this. It offered them a roof over their heads and chances to connect with people. It had everything they needed to live a comfortable life for the rest of their lives.
But at the same time, it still felt awfully… lacking. At some point, the Dome just started feeling restrictive especially when compared to the Continent's endless sky.
“We need to talk,” Lune brought up the moment they finished dinner.
It was the night after Sciel had finally completed harvesting her crops. This meant that she was in higher spirits than usual. A strategy that Lune had been brewing for weeks. Her hands were restless on her lap, hidden under the table. The odds of failure were not zero.
However, despite her preparations, one of the things she did not account for was Sciel’s knowing look. It’s as if she’s been waiting for Lune to broach the topic all this time. “Guess Lumière has gotten too small for you already.”
Lune winced. She’d been caught. “You noticed?”
“You’re not as subtle as you think, mon cœur.” Sciel chuckled.
Sciel reached over the table to hold Lune’s hand. Wordlessly, Lune’s gold branded hand met hers halfway like how the night sky drew out the moon. Even across each other like this, they gravitated towards one another. A practiced motion. A natural connection. Sciel’s smile grew when Lune turned over her hand to hold Sciel’s properly like they always did.
There was no accusation in Sciel’s tone, only gentle acceptance, with a touch of playfulness. “You’ve been sleeping more nights on the Continent than at home lately.”
“Désolée,” Lune apologized, still remorseful.
But Sciel only tutted her. “Nothing to apologize for, sweetheart.”
And while Sciel had simply accepted it like a fact of life – like how Sciel accepted most things in life – it didn’t feel satisfactory to Lune. At the very least, it warranted an explanation.
“It’s not so bad here. It’s where we spent most of our lives. And our recent time here has been lovely but…” Lune trailed. Despite having prepared for this discussion and having memorized her next line, she still faltered. “It’s just…”
“Nothing left to discover, Madame Thorough?” Sciel finished for her teasingly.
Even though it’s only been three years since they returned, Lumière had already felt small by the first year. Or maybe it has always been small. It just took seeing the Continent to confirm Lumière’s diminutiveness.
Lune nodded, grateful that Sciel understood. Sciel always had a keen eye, and she especially has a way with making Lune feel seen. It’s one of the things she adores about her. “There’s just so much more we have yet to uncover of the Continent.”
“Hmm, I don’t know about that,” Sciel drawled. There’s a mischievous glint in Sciel’s eyes that matched her toothy grin. “We still haven’t unraveled the mystery recipe of the viennoiseries at our favorite boulangerie.”
Lune didn’t even try to stifle her laugh. She never held back anything when it came to Sciel. Her laughter was light when mixed with Sciel’s chortle, it was music to Lune’s ears.
It’s moments like these that Lune missed the most whenever she had to leave Sciel for her trips.
“So? When are we leaving?” Sciel leaned forward with buzzing excitement.
“We?” Lune blinked slowly. Sciel was never short of surprises. “You’re coming with me?”
“Did you think that I wasn’t?” Sciel feigned hurt but the sparkle in her eyes conveyed otherwise. “And here I was wondering if you were getting tired of me.”
“Never,” Lune replied without missing a beat. Too serious in contrast to Sciel’s playful tone. She squeezed Sciel’s hand, her thumb glossing over a particular gold band in quiet devotion.
It matched the one Lune was wearing.
Lune laid a soft and tender kiss on Sciel’s hand. And with worshipping eyes on her partner, she planted a lingering kiss on her ring.
“Je t'aime,” Lune professed her love again.
They’ve done this before but even then Sciel could never tire from it. She pulled Lune to plant a deep kiss on her lips.
“Moi aussi, je t'aime,” Sciel replied in earnest, in equal amounts of devotion, as she always did.
When Sciel lost Pierre, she never thought she’d get married again after. When Lune’s parents didn’t come back home from their expedition, she didn’t even think about marriage. Yet, here they were now, happily married to each other.
It took them a long road to get to where they were now – which was why any hint of parting came with great reluctance, and not without good reason.
“It’s just that I had assumed that you would want to stay…” Lune’s eyes drifted briefly to the drawer. On top of it were stacks of ungraded papers. Besides those papers was a vase with honeypetal cuttings. “You have things and people here that you might want to stay for.”
Lune knew better than anyone how much Sciel loved them, and she would always honor Sciel’s love for others.
However, it seemed that Lune had also underestimated how much Sciel loved her too.
“But you won’t be here,” Sciel insisted. Her eyes smoldered, conveying what words could only hope to grasp. And to make sure there was no room for doubt, she took action.
Sciel reached for Lune’s hand. Just like her wife, she planted a kiss on the back of her hand, and another on her ring. Then another. And another. She peppered Lune’s hand in kisses, trailing from the back of her fingers to the front. No skin was spared from her worship. And when Sciel finally kissed the last spot on Lune’s palm, she then held her wife’s hand to cup her own face.
“I want to be with you,” Sciel confessed with a passion that reminded Lune of how the sun burned – unconditional. “And I know you want that too. So what’s holding us back?”
Sciel leaned further into Lune’s touch in such a soft way that the latter felt her resolve melt. And when Sciel dropped a tender kiss into Lune’s palm, it was already decided.
Lune was already leaning forward, gravitating to her wife like how the sky pulled the moon. “If you’re sure…”
“Always with you.” Sciel closed the distance.
It took them years just to get together. And since they already took care of the Paintress, nothing else could separate them.
The Continent welcomed them back like it was their second home.
Sciel didn’t know how much she missed this until she wore the familiar uniform again. Lune, on the other hand, missed Sciel’s company more than the uniform.
While Lune had been on surveying trips to the Continent, they never went past Stone Wave Cliffs. Now that she didn’t have to leave Sciel behind, they were able to explore farther. One of the unsolved mysteries of the Continent was that the Nevrons did not disappear when they defeated the Paintress. So she sought answers from the only Nevrons that could talk — the White Nevrons.
It caught her by surprise when a Danseuse Teacher from Frozen Hearts showed interest in her specifically. She parried to the rhythm of its strikes with the grace of a dancer. And while Lune learned nothing new from their dance, she did take home a new outfit.
Sciel loved that outfit. Lune loved the smile that Sciel wore because of it. And given that this was Sciel, it didn't end with just smiles. The compliments, the touches, and well, Lune never thought she would be grateful to a Nevron but that outfit quickly became one of her favorites.
On the other hand, unlike Lune who was exploring with a purpose in mind, a curiosity deciding her path – Sciel’s interests were less deliberate and more spontaneous.
Just like a rock that becomes lightweight in a surging river, Sciel simply went with the flow.
Sciel much preferred the simple conversations with Gestrals over the crypticness of White Nevrons. She reclaimed her title as the Gestral Champion and even touted it whenever she fought with a traveling Gestral merchant. She looked forward to the thrill of the battle more than its spoils but took them all in one fell swoop.
Lune cheered for her every time. If asked, Sciel would admit that the greatest reward from these battles was the way Lune would twirl her after she ran into her arms. That and the cute victory song she'd composed just for her. And if Sciel asked for a different reward, well, Lune had never denied her.
They were making a new life on this Continent. Lune was enjoying an adventure that didn’t come with a mission hanging around her neck. Sciel wasn’t here to just bide her time until death embraced her. She’s here so she could embrace Lune for as long as time allowed it. And together, the adventures continued.
They’ve returned here with lighter backs and joined at the hip. To spend more time in less hopeless contexts.
Year 8 Après 33
Without a Monolith counting down the years, they too completely forgot the passage of time.
The first reminder that time had passed at all came in a small almost inconspicuous form.
It happened while they were dealing with the aftermath of an unplanned battle. They were supposed to take a break when a group of Nevrons ambushed them. Lune barely dodged an attack that should have been easy to parry. Even Sciel was guilty for slightly lagging behind in combat. Missing a breather cost more than they could afford. They’ve been taking more breaks than usual, pacing themselves, especially given their downsized numbers.
Unfortunately, even near misses weren’t enough to protect Lune’s hair. Tousled from the fight, Sciel offered to fix it for her as they took their well deserved break.
That’s how Lune ended up on her wife’s lap, unbothered like a cat, as one hand held a journal that she was updating while her other hand found purchase on Sciel’s leg. As for Sciel, she too, was content providing the best seat to her wife. She happily brushed her partner’s hair, mundane and intimate as it was.
That’s when Sciel caught something glistening in Lune’s hair. Like how a star twinkled in the darkness of the night sky.
“Tiens!” Sciel gasped as her hands stilled. There was something in her tone beyond surprise that Lune couldn’t quite place yet.
If Lune could only turn her head, the answer might have been obviously written on Sciel's face. But instead, she asked first, “What is it? Don’t tell me ink got tangled into knots again.”
“Non, this is…” Sciel murmured, almost breathless. Then in a more excited tone, the kind that went with a matching grin and shining eyes, she said, “It’s better if you see it yourself.”
Sciel’s left hand stayed in Lune’s hair, holding whatever it was that she found. Chroma glimmered, and she conjured her scythe with the other hand. Thankfully, the spilled ink on it had already been wiped earlier. Then with practiced ease, she carefully angled it in front of Lune. Its blade now served as a mirror. And in the right light, its reflection was specular.
At first, Lune wasn’t quite sure what she was supposed to see. Her head tilted in different angles as she tried to get a clear view of what Sciel had in between her fingers. She squinted, eyes systematically investigating her reflection like it was a specimen to be dissected. A puzzle with the answer right in her face that she couldn’t seem to find.
Until eventually, Lune’s narrowed eyes suddenly widened. A shocking discovery. She had picked out a color that’s usually not there.
“White hair…” Lune said, mouth agape in awe. Belatedly, she recognized that this was also the same tone Sciel used earlier. The journal dissolved into chroma as her hand tentatively reached out for the strand. Her eyes widened when she touched it, confirming its reality.
It’s an inevitable sign that came with age.
They spent so long either thinking they would never get to grow old or fighting just for that chance, that to picture themselves with white hair never even crossed their minds.
Now Lune was staring at her first white strand. It’s fascinating even if there was technically nothing new to be learned from it. This was normal. A given event when one reached a certain number of years. Yet it felt something close to extraordinary. Sciel watched curiously as all these emotions flittered on Lune’s face, reflected on her scythe’s blade.
“I guess it’s to be expected,” Lune said once she finally regained her composure. She remembered her parents, tried to remember them as they were not as Sirene had once showed her. “My mother had her fair share of white hair. My father too, on his mustache.”
“My father’s beard grew white. He had called it his plot of cotton,” Sciel shared, her face softening as she reminisced. “It wasn’t as soft as cotton, I’ll tell you that,” She quipped with the same grin she got from her father.
Sciel was rewarded with a giggle from Lune. The sound was short and so sweet that Sciel couldn’t resist tasting it for herself.
The scythe was forgotten even before it disappeared into glittering chroma. With her now free hand, she cupped Lune’s face, angling both of them to meet in a deep sweet kiss. The satisfied hum on Lune’s lips was definitely sweeter.
At some point during the kiss, Lune had turned in Sciel’s lap to face her better. They kissed deeper, hungrier. From Lune’s face, Sciel’s hand traveled down until it reached her wife’s hips, pulling her flush against herself with a sudden and exquisite force that had Lune gasp into their kiss. Lune’s hands found their way tangling in Sciel’s hair and exploring her exposed nape, trailing fire where she touched, which pulled a deep and hungry moan out of Sciel’s mouth.
The kiss lasted forever and was over all too soon. The burning taste of it lingered. Sciel licked her lips, satisfied, and Lune leaned to rest herself on her lover, equally content.
Sciel lazily twirled a lock of Lune’s hair, white strand included, around her finger. “You know, I thought it would feel more special. This is practically a milestone we could only dream of back then,” She pondered with a laidback drawl.
“I’d like to think that the fact that it doesn’t feel as special makes it better.” There’s a small but genuine smile on Lune’s lips. She eagerly continued, “Expecting to grow white hair like it’s normal and not a luxury afforded to those born sooner. Now that makes it special.”
That meant that they were adjusting well, all things considered, to this new reality where they get to actually grow old. Not getting caught up in numbers, but instead, they lived life as it continued – as it was meant to be lived.
This shift in perception was a victory in itself.
“Ooh, I like the sound of that. Very poetic!” Sciel exclaimed, kissing the temple of her ever intelligent partner.
“It certainly wouldn’t hurt to celebrate it.” Lune materialized two cups and a bottle of wine from their supplies. “I believe some félicitations are in order.” Her eyes were still smoldering with the embers from their last kiss.
Sciel ignored the cups and went straight for the bottle. “We should celebrate like this when I get my first white hair too.” She took a sip before planting another deep kiss on Lune’s lips. When she pulled back, her smile was devilishly charming. “How about we celebrate for each new white hair we see?”
Lune giggled, already intoxicated by something more than just the wine. “I don’t think there'll be enough wine for the both of us.” She licked the wine off her own lips, aware of how Sciel’s eyes never strayed away. She could only assume that her lover’s throat had gone dry just like hers had.
They’ve done this dance before. They could never tire of it. It’s one of their favorites.
Sciel flashed her a hungry grin. “Then we can just skip the wine and get right into the celebrations.”
And celebrate they did. They celebrated even long after they had finished the bottle of wine.
It was easy for them to forget the passage of time, especially when they were having the time of their lives.
Year 13 Après 33
The change in scenery served as good inspiration for Lune’s music.
The Continent offered far more wonders and dangers than Lumière ever could. When she wasn’t holding a journal, she was cradling her guitar. Inspiration was endless just like the sky here.
However, it’s not always just Lune playing. There’s also the occasional musical Gestral or Grandis who she would play with, even the White Troubadour that one time. Playing with another – with a completely different existence – opened a whole new world of music that Lune played to its otherworldly tune with zeal. Those were fun collaborations, yet few and far in between.
If she had to name a more consistent duet, it was with Verso.
During their expedition days, Lune and Verso had bonded over their passion for music. So it was only natural that they continued to keep in touch and played music after they went their separate ways. And while his piano was not as bizarre as a Troubadour’s instrument, his skill was nothing to scoff at. But more than that, Verso was her friend, then and until now.
Just as much as Lune enjoyed playing with something out of the ordinary, she also loved to play music with a friend, if not much more.
“C’est génial! Your music truly has transcended to a whole new level.” Verso stood and applauded his fellow musician after they finished a song. His praise was genuine. His next sentence, however, was more cheeky. “Marriage has made you a better musician.”
Lune’s cheeks flushed, whether it was from the compliment or from the other remark, she did not bother to clarify. Instead, like any great musician, she humbled herself. “Merci. But if you mean my technique has improved then I’m sorry to disappoint. Today’s performance is largely owed to this little gift from Sciel.”
It wasn’t anything on her guitar, no, Verso would have noticed if the guitar was modified in some way. Lune raised her hand to show him her secret tool. It was surprisingly tiny, small enough to fit in between her thumb and her forefinger. It was flat and smooth, almost triangular in shape but rounded on the corners. And yet, despite its small size, it brought the volume out of notes that were unheard of until now.
It was an anniversary gift from Sciel. She said the idea came to her since Lune first shared that if she could, she would play more often if only her fingers didn’t start hurting after playing so much. So Sciel thought of creating a tool that could help Lune play without hurting herself to exhaustion, or worse, injury.
From there, Sciel cut and polished a piece of coral from one of their diving trips together. The coral was black in the way the depths were without Lune’s light. In its darkness, she lovingly etched stars cradled by a crescent moon. She said it was meant to be the sky and the moon. And Lune saw in her eyes that she meant more than just the celestial bodies.
Sciel had carved a piece of themselves into something that Lune could not just hold, but also play music with.
With it, the notes she strummed were the most vibrant she’s ever heard. Every chord she struck, reverberated soundly with her own heartstrings. Ever since then, every performance was a duet even when Lune played alone. It was a symphony of her guitar, her heart, and everything in between for her wife.
And at the end of the day, when she has played to her heart’s content with fingers that didn’t hurt as much as they used to, Lune felt how much she was loved by Sciel.
Just remembering her partner’s thoughtfulness put an endearing smile on Lune’s face, unbeknownst to her. However, it did not go unnoticed to Verso.
“So? It’s still from your wife,” Verso said smugly. “I’m still right. Marriage has made you a better musician.”
Lune simply rolled her eyes but the smile never left her lips. There was no second denial.
They play a few more songs after that. No words needed to be exchanged, not when they both got lost in the music. A conversation between musicians spoken only through their beloved instruments. But sometimes it was also music that made it easier to talk to each other.
During a lull in their duet, Verso chimed with an impish lilt in his tone, “You know, when people settle down they don’t usually start a new settlement.”
The settlement in question had more humble beginnings.
It started with just a homebase – their homebase – one meant for just Lune and Sciel. They needed something more permanent than just the camps they set up along their adventures. So they made a cache for supplies in a cozy enough nook somewhere between the Gestral Village and Esquie’s Nest.
Then other people started coming to the Continent as well.
Some even specifically sought out the original 33s. It’s a sound decision. After all, the chances of survival would be higher if accompanied by those who actually lived to tell the tale. While they could not accommodate every escort request, the couple however, shared their cache location and its resources. More people came and went by. Some even stayed. Eventually, quaint homes were even built. Somewhere along the way, Lune oversaw most of it.
In time, it started to become a proper base not just for the two of them, but for everyone who wanted a life outside of Lumière.
“You say that as if I planned this all along.” Lune shook her head. “It was bound to happen, I just… helped speed up the process.” Her fingers continued to idly strum, playing along to his tune for now.
Lune hadn’t thought about leading this new age but she figured she might as well take it by the mantle. When she was still back at Lumière, she was already coordinating with the Academy and the Council for matters regarding the Continent. It’s not that different from what she’s doing now except she’s doing it from the Continent itself.
This way, she could also keep in contact with Emma, the Council, and everyone else back in Lumière.
“Right. Only you would consider raising a settlement as just another side quest,” Verso poked fun at her.
“And constructing the Dome for the settlement isn’t?” Lune playfully shot back.
At some point, Gustave’s apprentices even made a mini Shield Dome – with no small involvement from Verso – to protect the base against any invading Nevrons. There were even talks of a more portable prototype for short distance trips, making transportation safer for civilians.
That’s why Lune had been seeing Verso around more often lately.
“Please, give credit where credit is due.” Verso shrugged off the accusation with a confident swagger. “It’s those kids that did most of the legwork. I just handed them the original schematic.”
It would have been a more convincing lie if only Lune didn’t also oversee all construction related to their budding settlement – mini Shield Dome included.
Before Lune could argue further with him, Verso interjected, “Look at you getting me to talk about work. Non non, I refuse to play by your rules.”
His hands glided over the piano keys, switching to a more lighthearted tune.
“Tell me about your private life instead. Has the wife been treating you well?”
Lune raised a sharp eyebrow, daring him to confirm that that’s truly what he wanted to talk about. But it lacked her old sharpness, dulled only by the softness of Sciel’s existence even when she wasn’t physically present. There was a time when Lune intimidated Verso. But as she was now, he only found her amusing. His fingers danced on the keys as he laughed.
Still, he had the unfortunate memory of her wrath, so he reeled it back in. “But in all seriousness, I think married life suits you.” His tone was light yet every note sincere, like his music.
The comment struck a surprised chord in Lune. “Oh? What makes you say that?”
“Well you’ve certainly become less… intense compared to our expedition days.”
Verso expected that the comment would launch Lune into a heartfelt monologue about how much Sciel has changed her life. Unfortunately, it only did the opposite. Lune was so silent, even her fingers had stilled.
And when his head swiveled to check on her, he paled with fear. “Oh, no… I know that look.”
Lune’s face was scrunched up in deep contemplation as if she was working on a puzzle inside her head that she couldn’t seem to put down until solved. Her narrowed eyes went past Verso and seemingly landed on the blank Monolith behind him. This was more than just a healthy curiosity. Rather, it was the same intense look that Lune had during their expedition days.
And Verso just had to summon it.
“Speaking of… There’s still something that bothers me. A couple of things, in fact.” Her fingers drummed absently on her guitar. “The archives talk of a time when it was peaceful until the Fracture and the Paintress came. You were there, right?”
Now that made Verso’s fingers halt on the piano keys.
“Oui, times were… different then.” His voice was carefully measured just like his pause. A beat off but in a way that sounded right enough.
Lune nodded and then continued, “The Fracture and the Paintress was a calamity nobody foresaw. And that therein lies the problem.” She clutched the guitar tighter. “What caused the Fracture? Where did the Paintress come from? How do we know that it won’t happen again? Or what if this was just the calm before an even greater storm?”
How long will this peace last?
“This peace we have now, could just be borrowed time like the peace of your time. We can’t get too complacent. There are still many questions left to answer.”
Lune was raised to be thorough. Stopping the Paintress was simply the first step. Next, they needed to protect and ensure that this peace would last.
Verso’s lips pressed into a thin line. “And if the answers you find aren’t... pleasant?”
There was something in Verso’s choice of words that made Lune wonder if he knew something. She always had a nagging feeling that the immortal knew more than he let on. She also knew that no amount of prodding would get him to share unless he wanted to.
So to Lune, the implication that the answer left much to be desired, did not matter. They had lived through years of Gommage, a reality they had to swallow until they ended it. Reality never changed regardless of how one felt about it. What mattered to Lune was that the answers existed.
“It’s still better than not knowing anything at all. Then we make plans around it,” Lune declared with the hardened resolve of someone who had made plans on top of plans to turn a hopeless situation into a shot at victory. She could work with something dire rather than have nothing to work with. She had done so before and she would do it again if needed.
Verso held a small smile. He’s seen first hand just how stubborn his friend could be especially when driven by a mission. Even when the possibility of success was close to zero. Close, but not zero.
“I’m sure you would.” And because Verso knew the lengths that Lune would go to out of sheer responsibility, he tried to steer her to a different direction. “But don’t you think that you’ve already ended one calamity too many in one lifetime? Better save some heroic achievements for others,” He joked.
It landed well enough for Lune to chuckle. “You sound just like Sciel.”
Lune remembered not just one but many instances where Sciel had to remind her to slow down. Instances where Lune felt the world’s problems were too big for her shoulders only to have Sciel ask her to put them down for a while until she was ready to pick them up again. It’s that thoughtfulness that made a world of a difference.
And just like that, Lune’s worries seemed just a little bit smaller. All of her fears would become insignificantly small up against the depths of Sciel’s love for her.
Verso smiled wider. “Coming from you, that’s probably the highest compliment.”
Then the music they had on pause started playing again. This time, it’s not light nor heavy, but something in between. It’s a harmony that started with unease, then slowly blended into something hopeful. It’s honest. At least in music, there were no lies between the two friends.
There’s still a lot of work to be done and a lot of mysteries yet to be solved. But just like how Sciel has always reminded Lune, it’s okay. Tomorrow would still come.
Year 14 Après 33
The Disaster Expedition’s victory ushered in a new era of expeditions.
From the homebase on the Continent, sometimes they needed to travel in groups, usually to forage for resources, or to traverse the land to trade with nearby Gestrals. For these expeditions, Lune led while Sciel brought in the rear. Unlike Expedition 33, they never had any casualties.
“Nevs coming in to flank!” Sciel shouted as soon as she spotted enemies hurtling towards them.
“Everyone, get in formation!” Lune barked the order, practiced and sharp on her tongue.
The battle was over without the veterans needing to step in. Compared to the monsters that the two have slain, the Nevrons around these parts were too easy. In addition, the squad they were accompanying had some of the best fighters from their base and worked in good synergy with each other. They had the optimal numbers and conditions for another smooth journey as always.
However, that did little to put Lune at ease.
Even after clearing the area of any nearby Nevrons so they could start foraging, Lune stood vigilant. Her head swiveled left and right, constantly scanning for any danger they may have overlooked. And while the rest of their party shrugged it off as Lune being her fastidious self, Sciel knew better. A frown tugged on her lips as she watched her partner, shoulders heavy with the weight of something old.
If only this was Lune just being cautious.
When their gazes connected, Sciel gave her a grin which Lune reciprocated with a smaller smile but full of the same fondness. It didn’t wipe away the worry in the corner of her eyes, but it was a start. Lune continued her visual inspection from there, and Sciel ambled towards her.
“Hey, you know you can ease up a bit, right?” Sciel looped their arms as soon as she reached Lune. She laid her head on her wife’s shoulder, and Lune leaned into her touch like it was as natural as the moon resting in the night sky. She hummed in approval.
While Lune usually softened under Sciel’s touch – her natural weakness – the tension in her shoulders stayed unrelenting. It felt more like steel than flesh. “Protocol dictates that we must never lower our guard.”
“Protocol also says to never rely on only one set of eyes. That’s why you have others assigned on lookout duty, remember?” Sciel rebuked, hoping to appeal to Lune’s more logical side if that’s how she wanted to play it.
Lune shook her head, still unconvinced. “Just wanted to be sure. There’s always the chance that they could miss something.”
“If something goes over their heads, then what are the odds that you'll be able to pick it up instead?” Sciel pressed. “They have enough experience with this area to specialize this route, if anything gets past them then it's either nothing or it must be something we can’t have seen coming at all.”
The sentiment made Lune go rigid. For a moment, her eyes went cloudy with an unwanted memory that has Lune balling her hands into fists. The tension from her shoulders instantly spread to the rest of her body like wildfire.
Then with the same forged focus she brought on battlefields, she tamed this flame with a sudden collected coolness. Like how a blade, forged in the furnace, was hardened when submerged in cold water after.
“It's worth trying,” Lune settled, steel in her conviction.
And Sciel knew. She knew where Lune had gone. She knew the memory that has trapped her all these years, and how Lune refused to escape its chains. She knew because she was also there, a witness and almost a victim of the same tragedy.
This was not Lune’s hypervigilance. This was old guilt in the guise of precaution.
“This isn't the beach,” Sciel’s voice was soft and careful, as if her lover was made of fragile glass not unbending steel.
“I know,” Lune responded flatly, as if she was reading from a script.
But Sciel did not want her script. She reached out to cup Lune’s face, gently turning it towards her. Despite Lune’s nonchalant tone, her eyes told Sciel a different story. Unlike words, her eyes could never hide anything, not to Sciel.
She saw a younger Lune still holding onto grief stained with guilt and shame.
“What happened back then wasn’t your fault,” Sciel tried to reassure her, tender and almost pleading.
Lune didn't say anything in agreement. She didn’t say anything at all. Her eyes shone for a moment with something close to wanting to believe Sciel’s words. But the light never stayed and the shadows of doubt returned behind her eyes. Hesitantly, Lune averted her gaze with a weary sigh. She returned to overlooking the expedition without a word.
When Sciel followed Lune’s gaze, she saw something else. And maybe, that’s just what Lune needed to see too.
“Walk with me? We can patrol the area together. Two sets of eyes are better than one.” Sciel tugged on Lune’s arm. “Come on, I know how much you looooove efficiency.” She playfully wagged her eyebrows.
That got a snort out of Lune. She did not reject the offer, opting instead to intertwine their fingers when she felt Sciel try to pry her closed fist.
Sciel made no mention nor reprimand. True to her word, she dragged Lune around the perimeter that they secured. While Lune was searching for Nevrons and other dangers, Sciel was talking with the other members of their small expedition. Sometimes, she even got Lune to join in on the conversations, making a point to include her whenever points of her special interests were mentioned. Eventually, Sciel felt Lune's body start to slowly relax.
“Beau travail, ladies!”
“It’s another beautiful day, isn’t it?”
“No need to worry yourselves, we’ve got this part handled.”
“Merci beaucoup, Madame Sciel and Madame Lune.”
With every square meter assessed and every passing chat, the feeling of safety sunk deeper into Lune's bones. Now all that's left was for her mind to catch up.
This was what Sciel wanted to show Lune. Just how safe it was – here and now.
Sciel knew that Lune lived on facts so the fastest way to convince her was through showing her. But telling also had its sway. During their little stroll, many thanked them along the way. Sciel thought it was cute the way Lune was surprised each time, unaware of just how much her existence has changed the lives of the people around her, for the better.
Lune’s idea of ‘not enough’ was already ‘so much’ to everyone but herself.
Even in a Nevron infested area, these people were able to carry on with their lives without much fear because Lune had made it possible.
“I admit, perhaps I needed this patrol,” Lune said in an awestruck breath as she surveyed the area with new eyes.
All these people relied on her, and she had not failed them.
Over the course of their stroll, Lune felt her shoulders had become lighter. Every gratitude sent her way chipped away the burden that she could not set down. Until she was finally left with something more bearable to carry – something she could live with, without overworking herself to death in the process.
It had felt so suffocating in her head earlier, but now that she stepped out of it, she realized just how much easier it was to breathe free. And she had her partner to thank for.
Sciel simply planted a kiss on her wife's cheek. “You're always welcome, mon cœur.”
They didn't talk about the beach again. Not because they wanted to forget it. Lune in particular, could never forget it, would never allow herself that. The beach was her scar to carry for the rest of her life just as much as Sciel’s own was the scar on her stomach.
But whenever Lune got swept up on its past shores, Sciel was always there to pull her into the present. This present, where it was safe, because Lune had made it so.
And where Lune felt safest was with Sciel.
“I wish we could go back home right now.” Lune buried her face in the crown of Sciel’s hair, suddenly missing her despite herself being in her arms right now.
Sciel’s lips stretched into a mischievous smile. “Why wait? I know a quiet spot or two just around.”
Lune lightly slapped Sciel's arm as the latter laughed, unapologetic. When the laughter subsided, Sciel spoke in earnest.
“We're making a difference.”
This time Lune’s answer was genuine. She believed every word of it.
“Yes, we really are.”
This was a new era of expeditions. With Lune leading it, the beach would be the last tragedy of its kind. And behind her great leadership was Sciel, her safe harbor from haunted shores.
Year 15 Après 33
Even when Sciel left the farm, the farm could never be taken out of the farmer.
Sciel started her new farm on the Continent even before people started gathering. It wasn’t even a farm at first but rather just a simple garden. Her and Lune’s adventures took them away for weeks from their homebase. So she decided to start with a small plot. She planted herbs that were indigenous in the area, the kind that could basically grow themselves while they were away.
Then people started coming and well, now they got mouths to feed. The garden eventually became a farm, then the plot grew along with the number of helping hands. They planted root crops and vegetables using seeds from Lumière. Their next big project was preparing another plot of land for grain crops. And as much as Sciel enjoyed cutting down Nevrons, there was also a different kind of satisfaction when it came to slicing crops.
To think that they were turning what was once considered a desolate land into something that could sustain lives. It was like Aquafarm 3 all over again for Sciel. She could feel Sophie and Gustave being proud of her.
But that’s not all that Sciel wanted to do with the Continent’s rich soil.
Like Lune, Sciel also had her own hobbies and personal projects. Hers required her to venture near the cliffs. Normally, it would have taken her three days on foot but with Esquie’s help. They arrived in no time.
“We have landed! Please watch your step,” Esquie bellowed as he let Sciel get down from him first before he flopped on his belly, and into a standing position.
“Merci, Esquie.” Sciel gave the giant marshmallow a hug as thanks. “The next pretty rock that I find, I’m giving it straight to you.”
“That’s very nice of you, Scisci. I look forward to meeting this rock!” Esquie was practically bouncing in excitement.
Now that the rest of Lumière was aware of Esquie’s existence, he’d been highly in demand. Since there was no safer alternative mode of transportation yet, the people of Lumière had been mostly relying on Esquie to travel to and from the Continent. And the massive softie was all too happy to make new friends and help anyone in need.
However, despite his busy schedule, Esquie was always there when Sciel needed him. It was almost as if he knew. He probably did, and she was always grateful each time.
“What are we planting this time?” Esquie tilted his head, curious and childlike.
Sciel looked both ways before she leaned in conspiratorially, and whispered, “Can you keep a secret?”
Esquie also leaned down and whispered back, equally conspiratory, “Cross my heart, mon ami.”
“Even if you lose Florrie?”
“Even if I lose Florrie, I won’t tell anyone.”
“Even Dorrie?”
“Even if I lose Dorrie too.”
“And Soarrie and Urrie?”
“Even if I lose all my rocks, your secret is safe with me, mon ami.”
“Good. We have a promise then.” Sciel shook his gigantic hand, sealing their pact of secrecy.
Sciel motioned for the giant to lean in even closer. And when Esquie was close enough, she tiptoed so she could stand face to face with him. With cupped hands, she whispered into his mask despite him not having ears.
“The secret is… I'm planting a surprise for Lune. We’re going to turn this field into a meadow of her favorite flowers.”
Even through Esquie’s mask, Sciel could read his overjoyed expression.
“Oho! Lulu will be very pleased!” Esquie exclaimed, loud and ecstatic. In fact, he was so delighted that he started clapping.
Sciel grinned, sharing her friend’s enthusiasm. “That’s the plan.”
With a flamboyant snap of her fingers, chroma shimmered briefly. Sciel summoned a transplantoir in her hand to use for digging holes for the seeds she’ll be planting. It was rather convenient that she didn’t need to carry the equipment with her when she had them stored in Pictos. Just one of Lune’s many wonderful gifts to Sciel.
With the farm growing, Lune noticed that it was getting inefficient for Sciel to lug around the tools she needed from one plot to another. Plus there was also the risk of losing them somewhere. Sciel never paid much thought to it since it was an everyday problem that she had lived with ever since her father taught her how to farm. But Lune thought about it. So just like how Lune made her own Pictos for her guitar, she made Pictos for Sciel’s farming tools – each and every one of them.
Lune was thorough, and Sciel felt thoroughly loved by her.
“Scisci has been more ‘Wheee!’ than ‘Whooo.’ lately,” Esquie chimed while he was watching Sciel work. “And you’ve gotten better at swimming!”
Well “Wheee!” was certainly one way to describe Sciel’s better outlook in life in recent years. It’s simple, childish even, but it summed it up nicely. And now that Esquie mentioned it, he didn’t call her his ‘terrible swimmer’ friend anymore. Ever since the first time Sciel and Lune had asked Esquie’s help to reach a different ocean to dive into, he had been complimenting her instead on her swimming skills.
It’s true that she has been swimming more often now. And with Lune around, there was no reason for Sciel to reenact the event that coined her old nickname from Esquie.
“I suppose I have, haven’t I? We have Lulu to thank for,” Sciel happily used Esquie’s nickname for her wife.
“You two are gardens and gardeners of each other,” Esquie shared in a singsong voice.
“I’ll take your word for it.” Sciel chuckled. She had just finished planting the last seeds on the plot. Her tool disappeared in a glimmer of lights. “Now, this soil is looking thirsty. Would you mind doing the honors, Esquie?”
“Of course, mon ami!” Without any warning, water shot out of Esquie’s mouth as he started watering the field. It was both absurd and convenient.
After Esquie’s hard work, Sciel gave him a shiny rock that she found while working on the soil earlier. The giant marshmallow was so happy that he started dancing. Not to be left out, Sciel joined him and the two took turns twirling each other. Whether it was in “Wheee!” times or in “Whooo.” times, their friendship was as solid as a rock.
This field of flowers won’t grow overnight but that’s okay. Sciel had time and so did Lune.
Year 16 Après 33
It’s like they never left their lives on Lumière and instead brought it with them on the Continent.
The quaint base was now a quarter of the size of Lumière and it was still expanding. With construction of new facilities, some moved with their families, while others made new families. There’s even a schoolhouse here now. And while the number of students were just a handful, Sciel’s love for teaching them more than made up for the empty seats.
At the end of a school day, Lune would be there to pick up Sciel like she did back at Lumière. Some things don’t change even now on the Continent.
On this particular day, Lune found Sciel with the little rascals hounding her in class. She stayed at the doorway, unnoticed, and watched Sciel juggle the attention of children with far too many questions than she could answer in a minute. But even then, Sciel took on the challenge with infectious fervor, captivating both the students and her.
But it was time to wrap up. Lune wasn’t the only one waiting outside for the class to end. She knocked on the doorframe. With the children’s attention now on her, she cheekily said, “Don’t cause too much trouble for Madame Sciel. We wouldn’t want to add any more worry lines on her face.”
“I beg your pardon. These are laugh lines!” Sciel objected with a chortle that was framed by the lines on her face, drawn through years of jovial moments.
The years were starting to show on their faces. A growing map of stories told through skin.
Despite the tease, it's Lune who actually had more worry lines. Her forehead had the beginning of wrinkles earned through years of poring through documents, research, and Pictos. But deeper etched were the crow's feet around her eyes. More than just worry, she had also been happy.
Even Sciel had wrinkles that matched with Lune's. It’s no coincidence. After all, most of their moments were shared with each other. Every joy and heartbreak, they went through it together since the expedition and all throughout their marriage.
By now, they both had their fair share of white hair, glistening in the sunlight. Proof of a life well-lived and still living.
“And I can handle a little trouble every now and then. But only in small doses. Gotta save some for the big adventures.” Sciel winked at her students, conspiring.
The children giggled and promised not to cause trouble in the way children really meant that they promised not to get caught. It was close enough. After a few reminders, Sciel finally dismissed the class. The kids said their farewells before they practically ran to their parents who were waiting outside. It was a mundane scene that Sciel had seen every day that she taught.
This generation of children were fortunate to not worry about being orphaned. They get to grow up while their parents get to grow old.
And Sciel thought of how not everyone was dealt with such promising cards.
Sciel felt a light touch on her arm, breaking her from her reverie.
“Hey, where did you go?” Lune gently asked.
When Sciel answered, her voice was a touch distant, “To the time we first met.”
“Ah.” Lune followed her line of sight. She watched as a father piggybacked his daughter when the child sweetly asked. From there, she was able to piece the puzzle of Sciel’s gaze full of yearning. “Did you miss your parents just now?”
“I always do.” Sciel placed her hand on top of Lune’s, giving it a firm squeeze.
Even as Sciel aged, she still felt like a child whenever she remembered her parents. And sometimes, she felt a little lost without them too.
There were times when Sciel found herself envying these children. They would never know the feeling of helplessness as the Gommage took away her parents. The grief of holding them in one’s hands one moment, then holding on to fleeting petals in the next moment. She had felt so terribly alone when she had lost her parents.
And in an odd twist of fate, that was when Sciel found Lune – even if only to lose her too when dawn rose over the Monolith.
Still, despite everything that had happened, Sciel ended up here in the end. Here with Lune.
“It’s okay. I’m not lonely anymore,” Sciel reassured her wife, and she meant it.
Silently, Lune wrapped Sciel in her arms while they watched the children reunite with their parents. Even if a wave of emotions dared to knock Sciel off balance, Lune was there to hold her steady.
They’re living lives longer than their parents ever did. It’s a victory, but a somber one.
Once all the children had been sent away, now it was their turn to go home.
As soon as they were behind closed doors, Sciel eagerly planted a kiss on Lune’s lips. It’s one of gratitude and affection. A habit that she’s taken to over the years. Likewise, Lune reciprocated the kiss with a pleased hum. Even if they did arrive together, their arrival at home was always an intimate reunion and every bit domestic as when they parted.
They settled on their makeshift couch. It was more of a salvaged antique from the ruins of Ancient Sanctuary than proper furniture but it had grown on them. Sciel sat on one end, leaning against the couch’s back while Lune sat on the other end, resting her legs atop Sciel’s lap as the two shared each other’s day.
“By the way, your secret admirer sent you something again.” Sciel pulled out an envelope from her satchel which was just on the coffee table beside her.
It looked fancier than the usual mail, sleek black and sealed with gold wax. A letter from the Council.
Lune took the letter despite her confusion. “They gave it to you? They should have delivered it to my office.”
Sciel chuckled. “I said the same thing. The guy told me that it’d be faster to hand it to me than to line it up with all the other urgents on your desk.”
Lune barely caught the snicker that left her mouth as she shook her head in disapproval. “Smart thinking, but still improper. I need to lecture them again on the importance of due process.”
However, since the letter was already here, Lune might as well read it already. Chroma glimmered until it conjured the object of her desire. On the bridge of her nose perched her reading glasses.
The glasses weren’t exactly her prerogative. It was more of a consequence of Sciel teasing her one too many times of that one time she mistakenly read ‘sewing’ as ‘sawing’.
Unfortunately, even after Lune started using her glasses, Sciel still kept asking her if she could ‘saw some new stitches’ whenever there was a wardrobe malfunction. Lune supposed that the joke was a small price to pay to make her wife happy.
Still, the reading glasses had been useful for preventing any similar mistakes. Lune had been using them more lately for finer prints. She took on more paperwork than her eyes could handle. And why did they have to write it so infuriatingly small? Really, it’s the papers’ fault not her age. It must be.
“What does it say this time?” Sciel asked as she scooted over, adjusting their position so she could look over Lune's shoulder.
The letter was even fancier than the envelope. At a glance, it looked to be made of high quality paper, not the usual kind used in their regular communications with the Council. Red petals were pressed on the margins and the letter itself was written in gold. Even if Lune didn’t have her glasses, she already knew what was written.
“They’re inviting us to celebrate the Anniversaire.”
“Oh, is it that time of the year again?” Sciel had only been keeping track of the seasons, mostly out of farmer's habit. Anything else went over her head with the exception of their anniversary.
The Gommage used to mark the end of a year. It’s surreal how quickly it became mundane to celebrate Expedition 33’s victory to mark the start of a new year instead.
And as the heroes who ushered in the new age, the whole Disaster Expedition had front row seats to the celebration. Although if they were honest, they were looking forward to visiting their old home more, and less to the party at the harbor.
Lune sighed wistfully. “I do miss our bed back at Lumière.”
“And I miss rolling around our old bed without waking up to a sore back,” Sciel added without missing a beat.
Lune gave her a look that said, “Really?”
“What? Don’t say you don’t miss it too!” Sciel replied, unapologetic.
“You’re insufferable.” The insult lacked a sharp bite. If anything, it sounded even fond coming out of Lune’s mouth.
“I love you too,” Sciel answered back with even more fondness.
Now that Sciel really thought about it, an idea lit up like fireworks in her brilliant mind.
“How about you and I… stay a little bit longer this time when we go back to Lumière?” Sciel's fingers playfully trailed along Lune's arm. “Maybe a month or two, let’s make sure to thoroughly enjoy our bed.” She purred behind her lover's ear, right where she knew she was weak.
The seduction was not coincidental, it was strategic.
Lune shuddered. The effect of Sciel on her did not go unnoticed. Still, she did her best to fight her wife's temptations. “While that isn’t an entirely bad idea, we unfortunately have work to do here.” Her eyes shut as Sciel started peppering her neck with inviting kisses. She barely held back a stutter as she continued, “Just thinking about how much work will be piled even just from the week we’ll be gone is already tiring me out.”
“Now you’re just overthinking,” Sciel reassured her. Lune felt her wife’s smile pressed on her skin. “I’m sure this place will hold up even without us. In fact, everyone’s practically pushing us to retire already if you haven’t noticed.”
This was true. No one would fault them for taking a break. If anything, people have been urging them to not work at all. Even Emma wanted her to hang her coat.
But idle hands just did not suit Lune.
Which was more than she could say about Sciel’s less than idle hands at the moment.
“An endearing suggestion but also an unnecessary one.” With what little self-control Lune has left, she set the letter aside to catch her partner’s roaming hand. She chewed on her lower lip as she worried. “I just want to be responsible as the seniors of this generation.”
Before Expedition 33, Lune had the fortunate guidance of those older than her. Now it was her turn to be the eldest of the population and her responsibility to guide those who come after. She just wanted to do right by the people who counted on her, so much so that it worried her with a weight that was no less heavy than her first expedition.
And it did not escape Sciel’s observant eyes. Her body shifted accordingly. From seductive, she toned it down to something softer. She gave Lune’s lips a quick peck. Then another. And another. Each one stayed just a fraction longer. With equal amounts of patience and tenderness, Sciel repeated this process. Until Sciel has swallowed all of Lune’s worries that she no longer chewed her lip.
Sciel traced Lune’s bottom lip with a gentle thumb. Her smile was softer and sincere. “You don’t stop being responsible just from taking a break. If anything, it’s the responsible thing to do, to honor your body and rest from time to time.”
This wasn’t the first time that Lune struggled to take a break. This also wasn’t the first time that Sciel had to remind her. Lune would have been annoyed at herself for repeating mistakes but she knew that would only invite misery for Sciel. The optimal solution was to simply admit her mistake.
“That is… You’re not wrong.” Lune felt her resolve slipping.
“We’re not getting any younger, Lune. Might as well make the most out of our time.” Sciel kissed the back of Lune's hand. “Plus, I promise you that it will be worth it. Trust me.” Her eyes glistened with love that burned like a campfire – warm and inviting her to rest. She kissed again, softer and lingering and full of love.
It's the kiss that undid her.
“Alright, but only just a month.” Lune finally relented. “You are far too persuasive for your own good.”
Sciel's grin grew into something coy. “That’s why I only use my charms for our own good.”
Lune shook her head but the smile on her lips betrayed her. “I love you too.”
Whether at Lumière or on the Continent, it did not matter. Love did not pick a place, only a person. And these two chose each other every day.
Year 18 Après 33
Even with their life on the Continent, they still visited Lumière from time to time.
When around the island, Lune mostly frequented the Academy. Other than coordinating expeditions, she also had the secondary purpose of evaluating the members. The recruits she’d see here would most likely end up on the growing base back at the Continent. Better assess the potential personnel now to know what she'd be working with in the future.
There had been job offers before for her to become an instructor at the Academy. Unfortunately for them, she had turned down every last one of them. She reasoned that the journals that she meticulously compiled – 33’s own included – would teach them more than she ever could in her lifetime. An acceptable explanation on paper. But the true reason was that Lune wanted more to learn rather than to teach. Besides, the latter was more of Sciel’s passion than hers.
Lune had already spent half of her life for a purpose that was chosen for her. She didn’t need a repeat of that.
“Do you mind if I borrow you for a minute?” Lune asked as soon as she approached the combat instructor on duty.
Despite Lune’s casual request, it did not fit the atmosphere of the class. They were out on the practice field which was mandatory for combat lessons. However, this class was rather peculiar. For most, if not all, of its students hugged the very edges of the field, cowering. Despite being obviously frightened, the students were even more terrified to leave for some reason. And in the middle of the field stood their instructor.
It was none other than a displaced Nevron, a Braseluer to be precise. It was half ice, half molten lava, and a whole world of pain. It pulled back its hammer, frozen solid despite it burning in flames, then smashed an unlucky training dummy. Ice and fire burst from the impact. Whatever was left of the dummy was now either ash or shards of ice. Then as if to show off, it jumped so high that when it landed, the hammer left a crater of ice and lava. The ground had been carved with a violence of elements.
It was an intimidating display of power – for everyone present except for Lune.
From the last hit, it slowly stood. And for the third time, it raised its hammer once more. But rather than striking again with the head, it struck with the end of the handle instead. Precise like lightning. Where it struck, the hammer transformed into a staff, crooked at the end with a large bell hanging. And in the Braseluer’s place was a familiar Gestral.
Monoco stood menacingly over the wake of his destruction.
“This isn’t over,” He warned the class with a gravely low voice.
He was even more threatening as himself than when he was a Nevron, at least to his students.
“You lot are lucky that I have a guest over. But don’t count on your luck forever. Be back after a short break. And this time, come back prepared.”
He struck his staff on the ground twice, the bell ringing loudly and obnoxiously. The recruits all scattered, some even fumbled over their steps as they fled the scene. Lune would have felt sorry for them, if only she wasn’t also complicit in Monoco’s teaching methods. She had a sneaking suspicion that the Gestral enjoyed it too much whenever they cowered.
If Sciel was here, she would have probably joined Monoco in terrorizing the recruits, at least Lune thought she would.
Then Monoco started walking towards one of the benches, gesturing for Lune to sit down first. That was his small way of being considerate. Ever since he found out that humans couldn’t stand, well, standing, the older they were, he had been more conscious about offering seats to his older and not so immortal friends.
“How is this year’s batch?” Lune asked as soon as both of them had settled.
Monoco, who sat cross-legged on the ground beside Lune, harrumphed. “Décevant. Just another bunch of sheltered juveniles all wet behind the ears wanting to prove something.”
“Decent then,” Lune said, amused.
Monoco grunted. “Oh, I’ll be sure to whip them up into shape OR ELSE.”
The Gestral had become a special instructor at the Academy – in more ways than one. Aside from the obvious difference of being a mythical being, his unique ability to transform into Nevrons gave new recruits a taste of what to expect at the Continent without the risk of casualties.
Unfortunately for the Academy, Monoco was still a Gestral. One, he never held back. Two, he went by nobody’s schedule other than his own. So he was practically just a part-time instructor without any definite dates. He would drop by randomly and only stay for a few months just to bully recruits. Lune would even hazard a guess that he secretly enjoyed it, as evidenced by his record of coming back every year.
“Well at least they’ll be getting the experience they need one way or another.”
“They will experience my prowess everyday until they are worthy enough to even start hoping to become half of the great warrior that I am!”
“Try not to overdo it. The goal is to prepare them, not scare them away.”
“Ha! They should be scared! My very name strikes fear in both Nevrons and humans!” He doubled down. “And if they can't overcome their fear of me then they should abandon the idea of even stepping foot on the Continent.”
That was actually a good point. Lune won't deny the results of Monoco’s methods. Even if the dropout rate was about half of the batch, still that meant that half of those were avoidable deaths that were effectively avoided. Although he still had a tendency to get carried away sometimes. He was easily excitable when it came to fights, so much so that he reminded Lune of Patte, a dog she once had.
And just like Lune has learned from her own experience, dogs with that much energy also needed an outlet, lest they wreak havoc elsewhere.
“Perhaps they need a different kind of demonstration.” With a shimmer of chroma, Lune summoned her weapon. It shone in the playful glint in her eyes. “Why don’t we show them how to effectively neutralize Nevrons?”
“Hmm…” Despite Monoco’s stoic mask, he could not mask his own growing interest. “Which Nevron?”
“You can choose any. You don’t even have to stick to one.”
“Even the ones that I’m banned from using on the recruits?”
“Yes, even those.”
“And the rules?”
“First to miss a parry loses.”
And that was all the permission that Monoco needed to let loose.
“Finally, a worthy challenger!” Monoco roared with great gusto. His bell rang as he raised his weapon with unrestrained enthusiasm. He scampered towards the center of the field and transformed mid-jump.
When Monoco landed, a Duallist towered menacingly instead of a Gestral.
He really was like an excitable dog to Lune. Maybe that’s why it was so easy to get along with him. But more than that, he was her friend. And while it started off with just a curiosity about the Gestral, their bond deepened with every fight they fought together. Even during peaceful times, their friendship continued. A friendship that would last decades – like Gustave would have loved.
Monoco’s trial by fire ways was a stark contrast to Sciel’s gentle teaching style. What a ridiculous image that would be if the two had switched classes for a day. The children would probably be fine with Monoco. However, it’s the recruits that she should watch out for. Sciel may be sweet with children but she could also be ruthless in battle, toying with her enemy whenever she felt like it. She’ll instill a different kind of fear in those recruits that’s for sure.
Speaking of Sciel, Lune made a mental note to replenish their stock of her favorite wine after she was done teaching this old dog new tricks.
Year 21 Après 33
In this new era without the Gommage, the population grew with each year rather than dwindled.
So much so that now there were enough people in the settlement to have multiple specialized expeditions. Lune and Sciel no longer joined the regular ones that were just nearby the base. Instead, they took to joining the ones with farther and more dangerous destinations.
For trips visiting the Grandis, Lune would lead the expedition with Sciel at the back as their usual formation. This was only because they were the only two who were already familiar with the terrain and the Nevrons skulking in the area. Unfortunately, the word familiar did not do justice with their experience of its climate.
Even when one didn’t keep track of the time, the body kept score.
The chill of the snowy mountain range felt different now than when they first set foot here with the Disaster Expedition. It was harsh, but manageable back then. Now, the cold seemed to cut through skin, chilling them to the bone, no matter how many layers they had piled on. At least that's what it felt to Lune and Sciel.
Lune noticed Sciel shivering even from afar, shaking as if a tremor possessed her body. And while Lune had her elemental chroma embedded on her skin to stave off some of the chill away, Sciel was practically defenseless against the sharp bite of cold. So Lune glided, with some effort, towards her wife. Chroma glowed underneath her clothes as she summoned a ball of flame to which Sciel immediately raised her hands to warm herself up. Its heat was a balm in the ruthless cold.
“You know there are other ways to keep warm,” Sciel’s flirt was as smooth as her teeth chattering as she delivered it.
Lune simply rolled her eyes, a smile hidden beneath her muffler. “You’re welcome.”
“Later then?” Sciel coyly suggested with a wink, frozen lashes fluttering. She was relentless when it came to these intimate matters regardless of the weather.
Lune didn't respond. However, it wasn’t an outright refusal either.
They continued their hike through the snowy mountain range with the pair hanging back from the rest of the expedition. Caught in their own world, they shared warmth and conversation.
“I think they're ready to graduate from hand holding,” Sciel innocently chimed in as she was holding hands with Lune.
Their hands swayed between them as if they were on a nice stroll on a meadow instead of plowing through snow with sharp cold winds just a snowstorm shy away from a full blizzard.
Lune hummed. “Maybe. We'll see how they handle a Chromatic Nevron.”
“Ah, right. If I remember correctly, the one nearest here is a real piece of work. I'm starting to feel sorry for them.” Sciel shuddered at the memory of a Chromatic Veilleur and its ruthless blight.
Before Lune and Sciel could give full reigns to any expedition team, they needed to pass a test first. They needed to beat the strongest Nevron in the area without their help. The difficulty of the test solely relied on how ambitious the expeditions were. This team that they were chaperoning wanted to be stationed at Monoco’s Station. It’s no surrounding area of The Monolith but it also wasn’t a walk through Red Woods.
“They’re still soft. They need to train harder if they want to explore this region unsupervised.” The slight furrow in Lune's brows matched the frown in her voice.
“They have lives outside of the expedition,” Sciel countered lightly. “Besides, they're doing just fine as they are now.”
Lune tutted. “That doesn't mean they can get away with being complacent.”
“Can you blame them? They grew up during a time of peace. They don't know what expeditions used to mean before us.” Sciel gave Lune's hand a firm squeeze.
The expeditioners of today were not soldiers sent on their last legs. They didn't fight with desperation fueling their attacks, with nothing left to lose. They didn't fight just so they wouldn't succumb to a fate worse than petals. These were people who went out knowing that they could come back home whenever they wanted to.
Nevertheless, Lune wanted to be sure that if the worst case scenario ever happened, that they would still be capable of surviving on their own.
The beach was now a faded scar. There hasn't been another tragedy like the beach’s ever since Lune made plans on top of protocols to prevent it. So even in the most dangerous areas, it was still the safest odds.
However, that didn't stop Lune from worrying out of habit. And that's when Sciel would step in to even her out.
“I think they just need a little… inspiration,” Sciel purred into Lune’s muffler which made the latter shiver from something other than the cold. Then she pulled back to flash a smirk and a mischievous glint in her eyes. “They’re stuck on how to beat some of the more challenging Nevs, right? How about you and I… show these youngsters how it's done.”
Lune raised an eyebrow, skeptic. “Just the two of us?”
“What? You think we can't handle it?” Sciel shot back, challenging and playful at the same time.
“Of course, we can.” Lune scoffed. “Your body will pay for that, you know.”
“Tomorrow comes.” Sciel smiled, carefree, as if she didn’t know the price of her hubris.
And perhaps the bigger fool was Lune for going along with her.
After communicating the change of plans with the rest of the expedition and getting their enthusiastic approvals, they took a detour on the way back from Monoco’s station. From snow, they traversed through grasslands. Several stone statues marked their way, leading them to their destination where their target lay.
Grass slowly gave way to snow again, the drop in temperature was strikingly evident. There was something other than the cold climate of the mountain range that brought an even more terrifying chill in the air. Going against survival instincts, they followed this trail of chill to its source.
Until a Frost Eveque hovered in proximity. It felt so powerfully cold that even the nature around it succumbed to its chill. Its body glowed with blue cold chroma, robe swaying with icy gusts of air. Solid icicles formed spikes on its shoulders and crowned its head as if it lorded the element itself.
Despite its intimidating aura, Lune and Sciel seemed almost nonchalant about its presence.
“Let’s keep this quick. We have a schedule to catch up to since someone added a little side quest last minute,” Lune said in between optimizing her equipment, skills, and Pictos.
“That sounds like someone with great ideas and deserves an even greater massage after this workout.” Sciel did some warm-up stretches so casually as if she was just about to start her day farming.
The preparation took them about ten minutes. By then, the outcome of the fight was already decided before it even started.
“Let’s make you shine, mon cœur.” With a flick of her fingers, Sciel summoned a card. Chroma surged and flowed as she spun with it. A wave of power, protection, and speed washed over the two. Now they were all set.
“The support is much appreciated.” Lightning crackled in Lune’s palm. Then she sent it heavenward, more lightning surrounded her, never harming her. She had called for a lightning storm to continuously torment their enemy.
Just like they have changed over the course of years, so did their fighting style. Less parrying and more dodging. Their once spry bodies that used to take heavy blows only to return it twicefold, now also felt the toll of attacks twicefold as well. But even without the damage advantage of parry, they more than made up for it with strategy.
“Watch out, Sciel!” Lune barked as the Nevron approached.
It conjured an ice spear and pierced the ground. Ice spread from the fissure, sending cold shockwaves that Sciel weaved through with expert ease. Every step was sure-footed like how a farmer understood the soil no matter where.
“Lune, attention!” Sciel shouted as the Nevron attacked again.
This time it conjured an ice orb and blasted at them directly. Bursts of ice shot at Lune, all of which missed her. She pivoted each shot with such grace that it looked like she was dancing rather than dodging.
Not a single attack could land on either of them. Instead, they just kept dishing theirs on the Nevron.
With age came experience, and with experience came wisdom. Instead of the long drawn out fights they used to have back during the original expedition, they now went for efficiency. They didn’t need to fumble through learning weaknesses and attack patterns. By now, their bodies have mastered it all already.
And this Frost Evaque, contrary to what one would expect, was not weak to fire. It was best felled with lightning.
Sciel tossed a card in her partner’s direction. “Show me what you can do.” A flurry of glowing red cards rained on Lune and evoked a burst of powerful violent chroma. She just bestowed upon her the fury of fortune which called upon her strength twofold.
“This ends here.” Lightning crackled from Lune’s feet. She shot forward and started kicking in the blink of an eye. It was a blur of electric flashes. Possessed by the speed of lightning, she struck the Nevron over and over again as if she was a lightning storm itself. But she was more elegant and violent than that. She danced with lightnings until the Nevron was pulverized into nothing but chroma.
Their whole preparation and warm up took longer than the actual fight.
The rest of their small motley crew erupted into cheers. Within seconds, they were hounded by praises and questions on how they did it. Before they could respond to any of them, the two tried to catch their breaths.
“See? What did I tell you? Inspiration!” Sciel laughed in between shallow breaths.
Lune’s hands were on her knees as she was still recovering from her last move. “Did you really intend to show them a lesson or did you just want to show off?”
The pair locked eyes for a beat. One set of eyes were lit with mischief and the other with knowing. Both, however, shone with a warmth reserved only for each other.
“Who’s to say?”
These were peaceful times indeed where battles could be more fun than just survival. And most importantly, they could go back home together at the end of the day.
Year 23 Après 33
Sciel loved to keep in touch with the people back in Lumière.
Whether it be her friends, her previous students, or the staff of her favorite shops, she made it a habit to check on the people whenever she was around the island. However, today she only had plans with just one person in mind. Her date this time was a bit of an adventure to get to.
It took some time to find the path. Sciel got a bit lost trying to find the right building around the plaza. She swore that it changed every time she visited. After finding the hidden rope behind one of the buildings, she pulled herself up and landed with a slight wince. She really needed to work on her landings, her body wasn’t what it used to be.
After that, Sciel hopped from one building to the next. She zipped through the rooftops via grapple points following a familiar route. The roofs at least never changed much in appearance even as the years passed by. Eventually, she reached the rooftop gardens. She switched to a more leisurely pace, admiring the plants on her way to her destination.
Near the edge of the island, at the end of an arch overgrown with flowers, was a young woman throwing rocks at the Monolith.
“Bonjour, Maelle!” Sciel excitedly called out to her.
Red hair whipped as Maelle turned around. Immediately, her face mirrored Sciel’s delight upon recognition. “Sciel!” She ran and threw her arms around her old friend.
Maelle landed in Sciel’s arms with a force that almost knocked the latter off balance. Either Maelle has gotten stronger or Sciel has gotten older. Of course, the only correct answer was that the excitement got to both of them.
Sciel hugged her tight and then pulled back to get a better look at Maelle. “Look at you! You’ve grown so much since I last saw you. Très belle!”
How quickly time flew. It felt like it was only yesterday that they were on their way to take down the Paintress. Now Maelle was the same age as Sciel was during their expedition. And oh, had she grown so beautifully!
Maelle had reached Sciel’s height, which meant Sciel was now tied with her as being the shortest in their group. Not only did she grow taller, her body filled out as well. She was a menace back then with her agile frame, but now with her added muscle and experience, she was an even more devastating force to reckon with. If there was anything she kept it was her ponytail. The only change there was that she had it tied with a tattered 33 armband – Gustave's.
The young teenager had blossomed into a young woman, and that was something Sciel was fiercely proud of. They had fought together and kept each other alive for what they thought would be the last of their short lives. So seeing her grown up as she was now, it was hard not to get emotional. Every hardship they endured was worth it.
This was the face of victory won together through their fight. With every scar, both visible and invisible, wholly beloved.
“It hasn’t been that long.” Maelle rolled her eyes. “We saw each other just the other month.”
“And? That was ages ago!” Sciel squeezed her harder with a laugh.
Despite Maelle’s obvious growth, she would always be that vivacious teenager to Sciel. And she knew Lune would have shared the same opinion too.
But Sciel supposed she could save her from the teasing for now. There must be a reason why Maelle asked for them to meet. “So what new job have you been doing since last time?”
After their disaster – turned triumphant – expedition, Maelle stayed in Lumière for a while just like Sciel and Lune did. Despite not having Gustave’s talent for engineering, she stayed for his apprentices, for Emma, and for his memory. But even that was only temporary.
Just like anyone who has been to the Continent, it was hard not to return to it. Unlike Lune, Maelle didn’t have any particular reason why she wanted to go back. In a way, Maelle and Sciel were the same. They just went with the flow. But Sciel had found her calling at the Continent with Lune, meanwhile Maelle was still figuring out hers.
Thus, much like Monoco, Maelle alternated staying at the Continent and at Lumière for months on each end. And when she was at the latter, she sometimes hopped from one job to another. It was always part-time and they never lasted long.
If Maelle was consistent in anything, it was that she'd always have switched to a new job or hobby every time Sciel saw her. It was practically an inside joke of theirs.
Maelle’s eyes darted away, suddenly sheepish. “Promise you won’t laugh?”
“I promise.” Sciel crossed her heart.
Whatever new job it was, Sciel would support her like always.
Maelle let out a chuckle, equal parts nervous and bashful. “Actually, it’s the same.”
That was the furthest answer she expected.
Sciel blinked slowly, digesting the news until it finally clicked in her head. “Maelle, that’s wonderful news!” She cheered. While she was surprised, she was more so delighted.
She remembered when Maelle first told her about how the press needed more hands so she delivered papers. Next they needed more ideas so she penned headlines. Then they needed stories so she wrote them articles.
It’s been six months now since Maelle stuck with that last job – which was her greatest record considering her next best only lasted a month.
Maelle nodded. “Turns out that I liked writing more than just the usual amount. I must have picked it up from writing in Gustave’s journal back in the day.” She sheepishly rubbed the back of her neck, a habit she also picked up from him.
“I’m so proud of you.” Sciel embraced her again like a parent would their own child. Then a touch softer, “And I’m sure Gustave would have been proud too.”
Even when Gustave was no longer here, he never left them – never truly.
“I am too,” Maelle murmured. Her voice was so quiet that Sciel wasn’t sure if she was meant to hear it. The older woman hugged her tighter regardless and Maelle hugged back just as tight.
And if Maelle closed her eyes and thought hard enough, she could imagine it was Gustave holding her and saying these words instead. Or at least, that’s what her younger self would have fantasized. Now that Maelle had years to grieve, she learned to remember both the people who were gone and those who were still present.
In this moment, it was both Sciel and Gustave who were proud of her. She felt her chest become full, almost bursting, from being loved by two people.
They stayed in the embrace for as long as they both needed. Maelle wanted nothing more than to stay there forever. It’s only because of the other good news – the one she was more excited to share – that she made the decision to eventually pull away.
As exciting as this news was, however, it made Maelle timid to put into words. She fiddled with her clothes, playing with a loose thread that was just as frayed as her nerves. “I’m actually thinking of writing a book. About our expedition… about what it was like before, when the Gommage was still a thing.”
Even without giving Sciel the details, she had an inkling as to what Maelle wanted to write about. She’d write about the orphans who were left behind, about those who were Gommaged, and about those who paved the road for those who come after. She’d write about the age before their expedition overturned it.
A book filled with decades of tragedies, but also hope. A happy ending not by a miracle handed on a silver platter, but through generations worth of sacrifice – including theirs.
“That sounds like the book of the century or for however long the Paintress reigned before we took her down.”
Maelle giggled. “Maybe I should make that its tag line.”
“Parfait!”
For a moment, they both stared at each other. Until Maelle cracked up and Sciel followed with a chortle. And when a breeze passed by, the garden rustling, it sounded as if even the flowers were laughing with them. For one long joyful chorus of laughter, it felt like no worries could touch them.
But even during this peaceful time, not all of their troubles were gone unlike the Paintress.
In the blanket of silence that settled over them, a familiar feeling was bubbling from within Maelle. She had this faraway look that Sciel was all too familiar with. Maelle’s lips were pressed tightly, as if she’s still chewing her words. Rather than ask her about it, Sciel waited instead. She waited until her friend was ready.
Until finally, Maelle started sharing with soft spoken words. She sounded so young, so small, and so unsure as she must have truly felt.
“You know, it was hard coming back to Lumière after we…” Maelle trailed, her breath caught in her throat.
Sciel squeezed her arm where the armband used to be around. A firm encouragement – they survived the worst, she could do this. It was the reassurance that Maelle needed to continue, to finish spilling the words she started.
“After Gustave… didn’t come back with us.” Maelle felt proud that she could say that out loud without crying anymore.
But even though Maelle didn’t cry, that didn’t mean it didn’t hurt.
“I thought staying here was the right choice at the time.” Maelle tried to smile but it only faltered. “But then the old feeling came back. That feeling of not fitting in.”
Maelle picked up a rock, and then threw it at the Monolith, hoping to cast away any unwanted feelings along with the stone. It never worked.
“After a while, I thought maybe I’m better off on the Continent. And it was better out there… at least at first.”
Maelle remembered the thrill of adventure. The pride she felt in slaying Nevrons was exquisite. It was easy to slip into being an expeditioner again, easier now that there was no Paintress to kill. It was fun going day by day where the only things she needed to worry about could be solved with her blade.
She thought that she finally found her place. Her peace.
“Then one night I looked at the Monolith and the feeling came back.”
Maelle bit back a bitter laugh.
“So I did the only thing I thought I could do. I ran away. Every time I felt the feeling at one place, I moved on to the next. Then the same thing happened and I went on the move. Turns out, between the Continent and Lumière, you run out of places to run away to.”
“That must have been hard for you,” Sciel consoled. She tried hard for her own voice not to break like how her heart was breaking for her friend.
Maelle’s head bobbed lightly, a quiet nod. “All this time, I thought I just couldn’t find the right place for me. Somewhere I could fit in.” She unconsciously hugged herself. “But I think… I think it was never about the place.”
Her hand reached for her ponytail – specifically the tattered armband tying it up.
“I just missed Gustave.”
She sounded like she was finally being honest with herself. She sounded so young and heartbroken. She sounded like she was still that same 16 year old girl who had her world robbed from her.
“I still miss him.” As if she’d been bottling this up for years, her voice cracked like glass about to burst. “I miss him so much…”
There was never a day where Maelle didn’t miss her brother-father figure.
“I miss him too.” Sciel sincerely meant it. When she pulled the young woman into an embrace, Maelle let her.
And when Sciel felt wetness on her shoulder, she saw her own vision go blurry.
They were both there in the wake of Gustave’s death just as much as they were there with him in his life. Thus, despite their grief, there was also the sense of comfort from grieving together. Even when the world kept going without him, it helped to know that there was someone else who remembered him and missed him.
It made the world less lonely, and some days, it was enough.
“Let’s read your book to Gustave once it’s published.” Sciel gently wiped the tears off Maelle’s cheeks with her thumbs.
Maelle half sniffled, half laughed. “Don’t expect too much. It’s going to be my first book.”
“And so? You were able to accomplish the expedition on your first try. How hard is writing a book compared to that?” Sciel joked.
“Wow, talk about no pressure at all.” Maelle snickered. Then shyly, she asked, “Before that… I was actually hoping to get everyone’s input on some parts.”
Sciel smiled wider, cheeky even. “Only if you save us an autographed copy of the first print.”
“Deal.” Maelle offered her hand and they shook on it.
The book was one more thing to look forward to in the future. In this world where the Monolith had no countdown, their dreams were limitless.
This world where Maelle lost her brother-father figure and Sciel lost her own daughter. It also happened to be the same world where they found each other. They could never replace those who they lost but that only made them treasure one another even more. Even if they never said the words out loud, they were family – everyone in the Disaster Expedition was.
And for Sciel, there was no greater joy for a mother-sister than being able to watch Maelle grow up, discovering her own dreams, and hopefully turning them into reality. Sciel knew that Lune would be just as ecstatic as her about Maelle’s new passion project. She’d most likely be the first to volunteer as their aspiring writer’s editor. She could already see the two huddling over papers and herself being the responsible one having to remind them when to take breaks.
Sciel couldn’t wait to share the good news with Lune later. But not before she got her wife’s favorite viennoiseries on the way home.
They went to the Continent with the original intent of exploring it. However, as they grew older and their bodies were slowly being made undone, they have settled for making a home out of it instead.
The days where they would go out on grand adventures were now fewer and farther in between. Choosing instead the company of people and the occasional Gestral and Grandis that passed by, over fighting Nevrons in the wild and camping in places where their bodies would protest.
They had defeated the Paintress. They were powerful enough to fall the Unmaker of their lives. But even they were helpless against the natural passage of time and its toll.
Everything slowed down, their bodies most especially. Things that they could not do so easily anymore that they used to do before without thought. Like how getting up from the bed now invited aches that weren’t there before.
There were the things that they could no longer do. Like pummel a Chromatic Nevron without breaking a sweat.
The things they could no longer eat. Their metabolism changing with them meant fewer portions, and fewer portions meant a restricted diet.
All of these were problems that came with the years. How frustrating and wonderful they were at the same time.
When everything slowed down, that only made them appreciate things they would normally gloss over.
It’s a pain and it’s a whole ritual to get up from bed. But it also opened them to slower mornings. The kind where the world woke up with them. Taking their time to stretch and admire the first rays of daylight greeting them.
It’s a shame that they couldn’t put down Nevrons with the usual ease. But it also made defeating them less repetitive. Even if they have eliminated the same Nevron numerous times, there was always an exciting new strategy to discover.
It’s a hassle to carefully choose what to eat. But it’s also a teamwork between Lune maximizing the nutrients and Sciel maximizing the flavors. And who’s to stop them if they snuck in a glass of wine or two?
They welcomed these problems – with the occasional complaints – but welcomed them all the same. After all, these were problems only privileged to those who have grown old.
And how fortunate they were to be able to grow old with each other.
Year 28 Après 33
No matter how much they had changed over the years, the stars remained ever constant and infinite.
It’s been a while since they went on their own expedition, just the two of them. Their destination, like always when it was just them, was the cliffs. They made the hike there on their own legs, pacing themselves and enjoying the scenery as if they were on a leisurely walk. As if they didn’t have to make stops to fight off Nevrons along their path. Well, that too was part of what they enjoyed in their stroll.
It took them a few days but they took every step together, just like how they had taken every step together ever since Expedition 33.
The sun was about to set on their last leg of the hike. They were close. The scent reached them first before the sight. Faint floral notes filled each breath they took. A second wind that chased their age away as excitement got the better of them. Despite their exhaustion, they found themselves climbing faster, as if their destination had its own gravity and they were being pulled by it.
Their eyes met in the same way that stars align, magnetic and ethereal. A fantastic thrill burned bright behind their eyelids.
Then Lune took off in a glide, and Sciel sprinted after her.
Laughter echoed carefree as they chased daylight. Lune kept a steady speed as she glided straight past obstacles. Sciel, on the other hand, had to jump over rocks and other trip hazards but even then she managed to keep up. At some point, Sciel boosted herself over a boulder and took the lead from Lune with a triumphant hoot. Not to be outdone, Lune's tattoos glowed as she summoned a gust of wind to propel her back to first place.
"Hey, that's cheating!" Sciel shouted but it came out more like a chortle rather than an accusation.
"We didn't exactly go through any rulebook!" Lune yelled back at her, full of mirth and mischief.
They were so close. Closer now that they were practically racing. The floral scent was getting stronger along with the sun starting to dip. Sciel knew how close they were and she suspected Lune knew too. Well if Lune could cheat then two could play at this game.
When Sciel tackled Lune, they collided into each other like stars do.
Two great forces met in an explosion of color, laughter, and tangled limbs. It was phenomenal. It was as if the world was pulled and condensed into their impact. Sunset orange in one blink, green grass in the next, and black, brown, white tresses in between, as they tumbled on the ground. They rolled out of control, out of orbit, but never out of each other’s arms.
As if they were made of the same stardust, they naturally gravitated to each other – and they pulled the rest of the world with them.
The world was larger and smaller at the same time as they kept rolling on the ground. It was hard to tell where the land started and where the sky ended, the fringes of the two blurred more with every rotation. Whether it was the sky or the ground framing their partner’s face, the vision was breathtaking all the same in more ways than one. The momentum carried them for what felt like forever condensed into mere moments.
Until eventually, the world stopped spinning. They laid breathless, basking in the sunset, tangled in a bed of their own little sunsets.
The cliff which was once just green grass was now painted with flowers that danced like embers with the breeze. Starblossoms, one of the two favorite flowers of Sciel. It’s the same flower that Lune had first brought Sciel all those years ago back when she still had those empty pots. And it was that very flower that Sciel had planted here, a flower bed – just for Lune – that grew into a sunset meadow.
As the final rays of the day washed over Sciel’s face with its warm reddish hue, Lune saw in her eyes a warmth that burned greater than the sun’s. It reminded her of the fire of a hearth or that of a campfire. It was a precious kind of warmth, the kind that protected her, and also the kind that Lune wished to protect.
“We’re here.”
Again – the word hung reverently in the very air they breathed.
They made it here once more. Another year survived for them to climb this cliff and witness a thousand sunsets painted on flowers.
For Sciel, it was the sight of Lune’s face washed in the warm sunset and framed by their favorite flower that made the climb worth it every time.
“We made it just in time too.”
There was no rush to get up. For in this moment they had all the time in the world. So they stayed like that, laying on a bed of starblossoms with hands clasped in between. They took in the sunset as if they were flowers themselves drinking up the final rays of the day.
When at last the sun finally set and their old bones reminded them that unlike flowers they had other needs too, they slowly set up camp soon after. First the fire pit, then their meal. They went about each of their tasks without a word, flowing smoothly as if they were in the comforts of their own home not out in the wild. Home was never a house anyways. Home was the way Lune prepared the water for the stew so that Sciel didn’t have to break her back for it. Home was how Sciel cooked the stew just a little longer so the meat was easier to chew for Lune.
Home was whatever place they made it to be. To them, they were already home so long as they were together.
When night covered the sky, so too did the pair wrap themselves in a thick blanket that they had brought solely for this. They shivered still in their embrace whenever a breeze passed by but the comforting earthy scent of the starblossoms was worth the slight chill. However, they were here for more than just smelling the flowers.
There’s a reason why Sciel chose this particular spot to plant flowers for Lune. And as their gazes turned skyward, just like old times, they settled naturally.
“What are you whispering to the stars?” Lune started, reminiscent of past conversations beneath the same sky.
Sciel gave her a sidelong glance with eyes that rivaled the stars in their sparkle. “Why would I whisper to them when I already have ma Lune?” Her face was bathed in the soft glow of moonlight.
Lune, already used to Sciel’s smooth flattery, was simply amused. “Poetic as always.”
“To borrow a word from your book, I think ‘factual’ fits better,” Sciel retorted, and was met with a playful pinch on her side.
Regardless of the flirtatious nature of Sciel’s answer, it was still an honest one. Even though Lune already knew this, she could never tire of hearing it. It meant a lot to her that she was on the same level as the stars.
When Sciel was scared, or anxious, or even when she was happy, she’d share it with the stars like how her dad taught her to. The things that were hard to talk about, were things that the stars would understand.
But now instead of the stars, Sciel turned to the moon – to Lune specifically.
And in turn, it seemed that Sciel’s fascination with the stars had been passed onto Lune.
Despite the darkness of the night, the moonlight was more than enough to keep the shadows at bay. And on this cliff, this close to the open sky, the stars were dazzling bright. It reminded Lune of how chroma shimmered, both magical and powerful, except on an infinitely more vast scale.
Lune let out an awed breath. “I could never get tired of the stars here. They just seem to shine so much brighter here than back in Lumière.”
Sciel returned her gaze skyward, thoughtful. “Brings back memories, doesn’t it?”
Of a more hopeless situation. Of comfort. Of memories as infinite as the stars in the sky.
Speaking of Lumière, Sciel remembered the first time she shared the night sky with Lune back then. There was a coy lilt in Sciel’s voice as she brought up, “You were such a precious little thing back then.”
Lune knew instantly which memory she dug up. “Little? We were both twenty,” She shot back.
“The tender age of youth!” Sciel cried dramatically before teasing her wife, “Then you ran away from me after.”
“Not my best moment.” Lune grimaced as she remembered the stain of her poor decision back then. “One of my biggest regrets. Désolée.”
Sciel didn’t even seem the slightest bit bothered. “Don’t be sorry. Because of that, I met Pierre.” She gave her wife a reassuring peck on the cheek, and a longer one on the lips. “And well, we ended up together anyway in the end, yeah?”
“That I’m glad I did not run away from… again.” Lune heaved out a sigh of relief. It was hard to imagine, no, she did not want to imagine what her life would have been without Sciel.
“Me too.” Sciel reached for Lune’s hand under the blanket and gave it a firm squeeze. To which Lune responded with another. A reassurance that they were together in this life.
Silence covered them like another blanket – it was made more comfortable by the fact that it was shared.
Out here where it was just the two of them for miles, it was so peaceful that they could hear their own thoughts. Lune’s gaze traveled amongst the stars, revisiting a memory with each one before moving on to the next. She fixated on a particular star that glowed just a bit brighter than the ones surrounding it. The glow reminded her of the soft blue light of a journal, of a memory that burned softer than that.
When Lune spoke, her voice was softened with nostalgia. “Remember when we first laid like this on the Continent?”
“I do.” There was a smile in Sciel’s tone as the memory was rekindled. “I was surprised you even noticed me considering how focused you were on your journal at the time.” She playfully bumped Lune’s shoulder.
“Believe it or not, I could never have not noticed you. Even back then.”
Despite it being so long ago, Lune still remembered the gist of it. She had been sitting on the edge of the cliff, busy with updating the expedition journal. From the corner of her eyes was the campsite, and coincidentally, the approximate location of Sciel. Lune was always acutely aware of where Sciel was even before she dared to admit to herself her intentions.
In this memory, Lune saw Sciel approaching with a lantern and watched her every step until she finally settled a few paces nearby. And while Lune was dedicated to her task, her focus kept straying to the very woman that was always out of reach for her.
At least, until she actually reached out for her.
“My eyes unconsciously search for you regardless of whether you’re nearby or not.” This was a secret kept locked from long ago, the kind meant to be shared with the stars, but Lune opted to be open like the sky and share it now with Sciel instead.
Lune should have known that just like how the sky was witness to everything, Sciel too, had seen these moments of hers.
“I know,” Sciel murmured softly.
Lune blinked slowly. Just those two words set off her brain into overdrive as she reevaluated her old memories with a new lens. “You… knew?”
Then Sciel turned to fully look at Lune. A smirk danced on her lips. “You weren’t exactly as subtle as you think back at the Academy.”
Lune thought she was too old to feel embarrassed and yet, she felt something close to it. “Was I that obvious?” She buried her face in Sciel’s hair with a groan.
“I think it was sweet.” Sciel pulled away slightly, just enough for her to cup Lune’s face in her hands. She tucked rebellious tresses behind Lune’s ear to revel in the face of her lover. Her adorably embarrassed and precious wife. “And I’m glad that you finally did more than look when we were at the Continent. I’ve been wanting to talk to you since the Crooked Tower.”
Lune has known this fact ever since Sciel first confessed it to her. And it still baffled her how after all that time she had ignored the woman, she still wanted to connect. And right now, she badly wanted the same thing, maybe more than just to connect. She wanted to close any and all distance between them.
So she leaned forward until their foreheads touched, hoping the contact would convey even just the surface of her endless thoughts of her partner.
“Thank you for waiting for me.”
There were stars in Sciel’s eyes. The same stars that were reflected in Lune’s.
“Thank you for choosing me again.”
Unlike the stars that could only collide once in their lifespans, Lune and Sciel were lucky enough to be born as people instead. For it took them a second collision for them to stay in each other’s orbits.
They continued reminiscing long into the night. The good, the bad, and everything in between. They celebrated life with each memory revisited.
All the while, the Monolith loomed in the distance. Without the Paintress, it blended into the horizon as if it was just a monument no more ordinary than a mountain. And if one looked at the sky the way they did now, only the moon and stars, they would have been none the wiser of its existence.
However, Sciel still saw it even behind closed eyelids.
“You know, I used to hate that damn Monolith,” Sciel started, unsure where this would take her. “It dictated who gets to live another year… and those who don’t. It was suffocating.”
Then a heavy pause.
“But now that we're getting on with our years, sometimes I wonder… I wonder if it was simpler back then?”
This wasn’t just a curious question. There was something in the way that Sciel asked, how quiet her voice went, as if she didn’t want even the stars to know. This was something that she could only confess to Lune.
Sciel’s following words came out hushed. “In a way, the Gommage gave us the convenience of warning when it was our final day. So we were able to prepare for when people leave… for whatever’s worth we could prepare ourselves.” A dry laugh escaped her throat. “Not that it helped me in particular, especially with Pierre's untimely passing. And well, you know how I was when I lost my parents.”
And while it’s been years since Sciel has lost her loved ones, Lune understood that it was not a grief so easily erased with time. Lune had been there at the Crooked Tower when Sciel was unconsolable with her parents’ Gommage. Lune had been living with Sciel as she was still grieving for her husband and child years after her loss.
Both losses, one expected and the other unexpected, had hurt Sciel in lasting ways.
Lune wrapped her arm tightly around her wife and held her together, comforting her. “I don't think we could ever be prepared to lose someone we love,” She murmured in Sciel’s hair.
Unlike the Monolith that withstood the rise and fall of the Paintress, unchanged, the same could not be said about the sky. The sky changed with day and night, with temperature and weather. It wasn’t always clear skies. There were times when a storm stirred in the clouds.
And when Sciel turned to face Lune, her eyes already had the beginnings of rain.
“I'm scared, Lune.”
In the eye of the storm was Sciel, terrified and vulnerable.
“I had forgotten what it felt like to be happy ever since I lost Pierre. And truthfully, I didn’t think I even deserved to be happy again when I lost our child.” Sciel felt Lune hold her tighter, anchoring her in case she got swept away in familiar devastating tides.
Lune’s kindness didn’t just provide her safe harbor, it helped Sciel find the courage to swim again in uncertain waters.
Sciel pressed on. This time her frown gradually turned into a small but genuine smile. “But then after the expedition and we settled, I was… happy.”
It’s like the sun has peaked out through the stormy clouds as Sciel shone. This time Lune could tell that this rain was tears of joy.
“Loving you has made me so happy. Being loved by you has made me so damn happy.”
And yet this happiness was clouded with something only Sciel could name.
Sciel’s voice broke like how she imagined her world would be without Lune. “And that’s what scares me sometimes. Without the number on the Monolith, I don’t know when I’ll lose you and that thought absolutely terrifies me.”
Sciel has gotten used to being happy. However, she’s also no stranger to having that happiness taken away. At least back when the Paintress was still a threat, Sciel had resigned herself to death like it was her friend. But after the expedition, after the Paintress had been dealt with, after living with Lune, after loving Lune, after being loved by Lune – Sciel had started warming up to life.
She wanted to live. She wanted to live the rest of her life with Lune.
Sciel wasn’t afraid of dying, she hasn’t been in a long while. What she’s truly afraid of was losing Lune before she’s even ready. However, she's painfully aware that everything must come to an end eventually. Just because the countdown on the Monolith had been erased that didn’t mean they had years as infinite as the stars.
But at least, Sciel had the moon, her Lune. And just like the moon, ever constant and wise, Lune shone bright and banished the shadows.
“Your fears are just as much mine.” Lune cupped Sciel’s face and tenderly kissed every teardrop. “The idea of losing you, or the eventuality of it, even I am too afraid to plan for it.” Her own vision went blurry as she too got swept up in an emotional tide.
Lune had planned for a lot of things in her life. The inclusion of Sciel in the rest of her life was not one of those plans, nor did she plan on what to do with herself should Sciel pass on before her. It scared her, this lack of control. This inevitability where one would leave the other sooner, and not by choice. It would have been easier had she been alone from the start to save her the heartache.
And yet, Lune could never stop loving Sciel, nor had she any regrets in loving her.
“But your love has made me braver.” Lune smiled even with tears in her eyes, shining bright like stars after a storm had passed. “You’ve taught me that one could never predict anything in life.”
No, Lune would not torture herself like that. The future could wait. What she needed to focus on was the present. Here and now, with Sciel still in her arms.
“Like a certain wonderful person once told me, ‘Do your best, either it works or it doesn't. Live your life as you want’. And every day living with you is the life I wish for regardless of how it will end.”
And Lune meant every word with the same certainty as the moon rising every night.
“I’m still scared too… It’s okay. We can be afraid together.”
Even in darkness, they would find the light together like how the moon and the sky met in the shadow of the night.
“And if I leave you first, I know you will be okay. You still have the stars and the moon.” Lune gave her a hopeful smile.
In this moment, framed by the very soft glow of the moon and the stars, Sciel believed in Lune. She would be okay. They would both be okay.
Just like how the moon lit up the night sky, Sciel brightened. “Only if you turn to the stars and the sky if the situation was reversed.”
Lune laughed. “Of course. But until then, let's enjoy the stars together, ma Sciel.”
With trepidation in their hearts – only tamed by their love – they held onto each other. And with stars in their eyes, they laid on a bed of their own stars.
Sciel kissed each word on her lover’s skin. “Tomorrow comes.”
“Tomorrow comes,” Lune whispered back. A promise. They’ve seen the sunset together and they would see the sunrise as well.
Even long after these flowers wither, the love that Sciel had planted and blossomed in Lune's heart would outlast their own petals.
Year 33 Après 33
It’s been 33 years since Expedition 33 came back victorious.
Their quaint base on the Continent had now grown into a proper village. Its size and number of residents even rivaled that of the Gestral Village. Looking at it now, with homes built and lived in by families, it was easy to forget that this used to be uninhabited land just decades ago.
However, Lune remembered. After all, she was there at the beginning, and all throughout the work it put to raise this settlement.
As she walked around the village for inspection, a habit she kept throughout the years, she slowed down as she admired her surroundings. She remembered when these roofs used to be tents, and when the tents used to be bedrolls. When she saw a child run past, she remembered when he was born, and when his parents first came to their village. And when she passed by the farm, she remembered when it used to be smaller, and when it wasn’t even a farm but simply Sciel’s personal garden.
It’s as if she saw different paintings at the same time side by side. The comparison only drew out the beauty of the passage of time. It was remarkable what they have built – what they’re still building – through sweat and Pictos. And its brilliance was not lost to its residents.
Nouvelle Lumière, they had started calling it at some point. A New Lumière that they had raised with burgeoning hope.
Lune did not know who had coined the new name nor when they had started addressing her and Sciel as its fondatrices, but both had stuck and that was that. She had given up on correcting people on the notion – arguing that they did not need those titles nor was this village built by the two alone – since everyone, her wife included, argued otherwise.
“It’s an unnecessary title. It’s one thing that the people here have been calling us that but it’s another thing that even the letters we receive from the Council of Lumière have started addressing us as such.”
“It’s a compliment. They’re simply honoring all the effort you put into this.”
“But I did nothing more than what was necessary. The people needed a home and we happened to be the ones capable at the time. We couldn’t just abandon them.”
“Ah, but if it’s just a safe place, you could have just left them at the Gestral Village. But non, you stayed with them instead. You gave them something they could call their own.”
“That’s because I knew these people needed more than just a new home, they wanted a new life. And one thing I learned is that the best life you could give to a person is one they built themselves.”
“See, this is why they gave you the title. It’s your thoughtfulness that built this village into what it is today. And clearly you need help in appreciating your own selfless work more. Just accept it, Lune. Know when you are beaten, mon cœur.”
A smile danced on Lune’s lips as she reminisced about that particular conversation. Truth be told, she still could care less about the title to this day. But it was also another truth that it wasn’t so bad considering the appreciation given to her freely whenever the title was used. Sciel was right, as always, that it was their way of honoring all of her hard work. It felt good to be seen.
As Lune continued her stroll, she noted that the village was thrumming with high spirits. Tables and chairs were set outside full of scrumptious feasts and flowing drinks. Banners were strewn about as golden as the infectious cheer in the air. People around, even the Gestrals and Grandis, were wearing armbands of red and white petals tied with gold ribbons.
Today was the Anniversaire of Expedition 33’s success. Everyone who had been alive to witness history, and even those born after, were celebrating another year lived and the beginning of a new one.
And while it was customary for Lune and Sciel to be at Lumière to honor the tradition, they decided to celebrate this time at Nouvelle Lumière. Where better to celebrate life than in the very home where they live?
As Lune’s stroll neared its end, she ambled to a more quiet corner of the village. In a nice little crook, was a house with a garden of honeypetals and starblossoms. Fresh dew glistened on the flowers, made more brilliant in the warm sunlight. Distantly, she heard the gramophone playing an old song she composed. Its tone was bright and shimmering. It danced in the way that stars sparkled to their own cadence in the night. Every note reminded her of every petal of the starblossoms that Sciel had planted for her when she first brought her to that cliff.
But most dazzling of all, was her wife who was swaying to the music as she watered their garden.
There she was in all her glorious 65 years of beauty, and Lune was still counting the years of loving her. Even though Lune took care to glide silently as she approached her, her attempt at stealth was futile. As if Sciel could hear her heart from afar, her head turned and her eyes searched.
And when their eyes found each other, they were home.
Sciel ran to Lune with wild abandon as Lune met her halfway in an excited sprint. They met in an embrace that quickly spun into Sciel lifting Lune in a twirl. Nevermind the aches, it’s as if they never aged a single day in their lives.
“You’re back! Tu m'as manqué!” Sciel exclaimed, breathless and happy as she nuzzled her face against Lune’s with all the affection of a puppy who had been waiting for their person to come home.
“I missed you too,” Lune reciprocated with just as much giddiness and longing. She had only been gone for minutes, an hour at most, but time stretched too long without Sciel beside her.
They did not leave each other’s arms anytime soon. It felt too perfect a moment to end it so soon. The sun shone on them like a warm spotlight, welcoming them. Flowers surrounded them, their pleasant scent wafting with the breeze, as if they were rooting for them. And then there was the gramophone still playing, still singing a song born of their love. Slowly, their hips started swaying with the music.
It was the perfect weather for a dance.
From an embrace to something just as intimate, the transition was smooth, natural, how they adjusted their positions to fit a song between them. Hands fell on each other's waists, finding new balance in one another. Tenderly, Sciel’s hand found purchase above Lune’s left breast while Lune’s hand rested on Sciel’s wrist. This close, they could feel their pulses. They felt how their hearts beat in sync as the music washed over them and rippled in gentle waves.
As they danced, they saw each other in overlapping paintings. Like a canvas that lived, a new painting layered on top of old, and yet, one could still see the old brushstrokes layered beneath.
When Lune looked at Sciel, she didn’t just see her wife with smile lines. She saw the grieving girl she shared comfort with at the Crooked Tower. She saw the expeditioner who fought and bled beside her just for a chance to live another day. She saw the friend who told her it was going to be okay when they had just lost one of their friends.
She saw the stubbornness of the woman who pulled her out of her head and into her home. She saw the fulfillment of the farmer who honored her roots and tended her crops. She saw the nurturing of the teacher who not only educated her students but also supported them.
She saw the grief of the widow – of who could have been a mother – and how it haunted her. She saw the hollow that their loss left like the empty flower pots. She saw how much the ocean had scarred her body and heart. She saw the fear when she slipped underwater too long.
She saw the healing when they went diving together. She saw the joy of her lover when she slipped on her finger a wedding ring without asking her to take off the first one. She saw the daringness of the adventurer as they left their home in Lumière to journey across the Continent. She saw the thoughtfulness of her partner when they settled here and raised a whole community from scratch.
She saw her delight when Lune started braiding her hair into a bun. She saw how much she adored it, especially since she intertwined the braid with bracelets made by her previous students and topped off the bun with a flower from the garden.
She saw her tenacity in veins gnarled like roots on her thinned hands. She saw her wife with more constellations made of liver spots on her skin born from decades of farming in the sun.
All these brushstrokes, even the old, especially the imperfect, are what made Sciel the most stunning vision in Lune’s eyes – and she loved all of her in touches, in kisses, and in so many more ways.
When Sciel looked at Lune, she didn’t just see her wife with gray hair. She saw the lonely girl at the Crooked Tower burdened with her parents’ loss and mission. She saw the expeditioner that pulled everyone forward again and again as she continued to believe in the mission when they couldn’t. She saw the friend who reconnected with her as they gazed at the stars.
She saw the personal defeat of the woman when they had triumphed over the Paintress. She saw how her parents hollowed her out into nothing but a means to fulfill their legacy, the mission. She saw how she overworked herself into having a purpose.
She saw when she finally took ownership of her life. She saw the brilliance of the musician who enchanted her and many others with her music. She saw the diligence of the researcher who compiled journals of the past for future generations to remember.
She saw the surprise of her lover as she went down on one knee and asked for the rest of her life. She saw the curiosity of the adventurer as they journeyed again on their own expedition. She saw the compassion of the leader when she took on a role that no one asked her to do but she did it anyway.
She saw her glee when Sciel started styling her hair in a loose bun with her locks framing her face. She saw how much she loved it especially when she placed a matching fresh flower to tie the bun.
She saw her history in the jowls that sagged and reshaped her face softer. She saw her wife with wrinkles as distinct as her tattoos that were etched through decades of figuring out solutions where most would just put the puzzles down unsolved.
In these layers of chroma and memories, Sciel saw Lune at her best, at her worst, and everything in between – all of which she loved, still loves, and would love all over again.
Like linen and cotton blending to form a canvas, all these brushstrokes blended into the paintings of their lives.
And in them, they saw how much they have painted each other too.
“Tomorow came for us again.” Sciel reached forward to press a tender kiss on Lune’s lips, her smile spread on her lover’s. A soft reprise of their promise fulfilled.
“Yes, it did. It came for both of us.” Lune rested her forehead on Sciel’s, eyes fluttered close in the comfort of her presence, promising her another tomorrow.
The Paintress can no longer paint death. Instead, it is them who hold the paintbrushes of their lives.
And so they paint their joys and sorrows on their skin, and in their hearts.
Fin