Firefly Glen [PHE] kru

as if ordained, @John had remained in skaigona's periphery since the mountains. she and judah would meet again; there was a future waiting for them. in the meantime, both were led to continue their search.
her condition did not worsen but there was no improvement to the malaise that lay over her like a cowl. 
today she sat dozing in the sunshine, trying to picture the reunion of ezra with his father.

John had completed his quest, they were delivered safely to Heda, but while Judah chose to go wayward once more, John stayed with Heda. 

They had ventured from the mountains then, and journeyed to a glen, back towards the west side of the land. They came to rest in a glen, and after settling in, he went in search of Heda, who in fact became Skaigona. He would respect this decision. There were things he didn’t understand, as to where the young grey child came from, but for the moment, he wanted to care for her. 

He hoped this illness wasn’t serious, and perhaps only from exhaustion, and stress. “Heda.” He spoke gently as he approached, “How are you feeling, Skaigona? If there is anything you need, please, let me know.” A caring smile graced his face. “I’ve missed you. You were in my thoughts often.”

"john." she welcomed him as warmly as she was able, which was to say not hardly at all. but his welcome lived in her eyes, in the way skaigona leaned toward the man. "thank you for reuniting judah and i." she swallowed. "it gives me hope that i'll find the others."
"it was odd to have you gone," she murmured. until it wasn't. until she had grown used to it, comfortable; until she had lost rivenwood again.
skaigona wondered if she was made to be alone. as winter drew close, it seemed most practical. "did — did you see malakai?"

The warm welcome was not extravagant, nor was it of much expression, but he could see that warmth in her eyes, which spoke for themselves. And how she neared him, too, and he gently bumped his forehead against her’s, in greeting.

“Of course. It was something I wished to do, and I was guided every step of the way. I never once walked alone.” He meant this last bit literally and figuratively.

He simply nodded, when she spoke of the oddity of his absence. Then, she asked him if he had seen Malakai. Seen him? He was there, with both brothers, the twins, reunited. “Yes.” He answered rather quietly, “He has developed into quite the young man, strong in body and will. “But,” a pause and a frown, “he chose to stay behind.”

Aside from Judah and Malakai, there was so much more that came together, but he would take it one step at a time. He did not wish to overwhelm her.

she almost clung to him; she steadied her trembling paws in a twist overlapped by the plume of her tail. to hear that malakai lived brought a sob to her mouth. "ana — i lost her. i lost s-saint. one by one. i h-had ava with me, and dinah. i — they left."
at last she started to cry, an exhausted keening that wavered weakly, cut off once she covered her mouth with a shaking hand. "th-thank you, john. it's so good to see you, and to know malakai is alive. and judah and —"

And she cried. He wished to pull her closer, but instead, wiped her tears with a gentle paw. “I know.” He whispered, and he did, he stuck by their sides until each once went their own way, until the Island family dwindled.

“I would give you the world.” A truth, if the world was his to give, he would, and then some. “And Simeon. He is the strongest of the boys. As I stayed on the island with them, Simeon was baptized, in the waters of their home.” “Your son is now Simeon Gabriel Redhawk, for God is his strength.” And John couldn’t help the warm, compassionate expression that painted his features.

he would have; john would have done anything for her. for heda. but it wasn't heda sitting forlorn beside him, only the shade of the girl who had left rivenwood that very first time, so many years ago it felt.
"simeon." 
hot tears flowed over her cheekbones once more. it felt a lifetime ago that john's mention of the baptism would have pleased her so deeply. her sons lived. 
but her daughters.
"i left druid's children. i —" and the story began to fly out of her mouth; glaukos, druid, the eight children born. the strife after. yes. she spoke of herself as fallen, a pregnant woman who needed the protection of her sister.
and she described the sickness, the way it had compelled druid to attack her. how seeing herself left with eight children and alone once more. she told of how she had left that day and returned to find anselm gone, amadeo bloodied, and gideon kidnapped by someone else who had invaded.
no time to process that before the snap of her sister's teeth had blanked her mind and made the choice of her biological son over the others she loved just as much.
"i shouldn't have ever been a mother," skaigona said after some quiet had passed. her voice thrummed with her deadly seriousness. "all i've done is lead my children to torment." and now god was slowly siphoning her health for it. considering the way etienne had looked at her the last time they'd met, she could almost laugh. don't worry. i'm getting what i deserve.

John’s eyes widened, and his jaw drooped, almost in disbelief. 

Before him, a story was told, a recollection of all that had happened while he was away, looking for lost sheep, the lambs of Heda, now, Skaigona. She had fallen from grace, or so she believed. John’s heart felt as if it was being squeezed, aching, what Skaigona said, he didn’t want to believe. He couldn’t help but stay silent, processing it all, his expression was solemn, as if he was in a daze. Heda was hurt, in more ways than one; physically, emotionally, religiously. 

Would things have been different if he hadn’t left? He shook the thought, because dwelling on the if’s and could’s wouldn’t do any good.

He needed extra time to think  of his response. He truly believed that there was still good in her, no matter what. 

“Heda- I mean, Skaigona…. There is no truth to that statement. If you weren’t meant to be a mother, then why would you have been blessed with children at all?” If birds weren’t meant to fly, they wouldn’t have wings, if the moon weren’t meant to shine, then the night would be dark and the sun wouldn’t shine. 

“If only I could’ve been there for you. To help you, and your new children.” That in itself was a surprise, especially for him. Yet, these children, too, were fatherless, and this hurt John, as did everything else. “How many of the children are with you? I wish to know them. What are their names?”

His voiced remained gently and steady. There was truth and meaning to each word he said. And this time, he would stick by her, he would step up, if only in his own mind, as their primary caretaker. He would care for his flock, bring them back to a better place, until he could do it no more. He would continue to pray, to ask for strength and guidance, to keep his faith in steadfast.

perhaps she had believed that by setting herself afire in truth, there would be some absolution to come from the blistering pain. but that play of emotion across john's face assured her in assumption of his judgement, even as he held her close and asked after the young she had borne beyond wedlock in his absence.
"ezra and gideon," skaigona whispered, her voice breaking on their names. "you might say it was by god's grace that gideon found his way back to anselm, their father. i'm told they're here," she went on, shifting into a taut uprightness that gently removed her in any contact from john, as if forcing herself to sit unsupported in bitter emblem of how she must now be alone.
"when ezra and i find him," skaigona stalled, adding words to a sentence she did not want to say, "i'll be sending our son with his father. whether or not he wants to go," she added, and more tears fell to the corners of a mouth that barely remembered smiling. "he has a chance to be a family with anselm and gideon. i want him to have it, john," and then she truly was silent, unable to say more as gaze stared sightlessly ahead.
"do not blame yourself for anything," skaigona said after a long quiet had passed. "you went to find my sons; you have been so devoted. no one could ask for more," golden eyes at last turning upon his good, kind face. "but i do have one more thing to ask of you," and here she put both her paws upon his own, cupping the travelworn curve in her palms. "i want you to relinquish whatever service you think you might owe this family. i want you — to live." to marry. to have children. 
it was a tribulation to find the next words; skaigona found herself blurting them; "i am dying, john." her thin shoulders shrugged in some parody of comedic relief. "i found judah in the mountains. i know dinah and ava are alive. and my sons will be with their father. whatever plan god has for me, it ends here, i think."

He listened intently, to all she said, and as she mentioned God’s grace, he smiled a small smile. She had two sons, Ezra and Gideon. One had gone with his father, and she would give up the second to live with his brother and father, as a family. 

They would search for the father and brother, somewhere here in this area. Then she would say goodbye. And again, she thanked him, for his devotion, in finding her sons, and he would’ve done it over again, if he had to. “It was my pleasure. You have become family to me.”

But, she asked him one more thing, something that would make him free, but would he want this? Her golden eyes found him, and stayed there, as she asked him to relinquish his dedication to their family, the very thought that he owed the island family. Skaigona wished for John to live, a life his own. Internally, he had not lived on his own before, for when he was lost, Heda and her family found him, and took him in.


Before he could respond, she told him something that crushed his heart, his soul. “I am dying, John.”  A sob came from him so freely, his eyes, beginning to run as if they were a river, he had never felt an emotion like this. His breath and body both trembled, as he tried hard to continue listening, to what she still had to say. It took all his strength to not crumble at her feet.

“…whatever plan god has for me, it ends here, i think." 

“No.” He managed, “Why? What is ailing you?” Could he find a treatment, search for a cure? What would he do without her? Without his family?