Dragoncrest Cliffs la sirene

since his rescue, he'd mostly slept—deeply, at that. he was unaware of any conversations or commotions around him and @Lucette, save perhaps fleeting glimpses of faces, snippets of voices.

contrary to what you might think, his dreams were not plagued by nightmares; no, he floated through them blissfully, and when he finally woke, it was with the grogginess of a child in convalescence rather than the fright of one who's gone through something traumatic.

the first pair of eyes he found were @Mireille's, the deep sea-green pools suffused with worry as she watched her twins.

maman, lafayette croaked. his throat was very sore; even swallowing made him wince slightly. he licked dry, chapped lips and glanced around him. there were others, too, but he didn't recognize them at first.

no, wait—

erzulie. his gaze lit upon @Etienne, and—

no, etienne was to his other side.

there were two wolves near the rear of the roja den—one granme, and the other dark and sleek like his auntie @Chacal.

lafayette blinked, and they were gone.

tags for reference but no pressure to all hop in!

a quiet voice broke the brooding silence that threatened to envelope the den. val peered in to see lafayette stir, his voice a tiny croak against the feeble breeze.

val could not know that for a moment, lafayette saw the spirit of others. he moved closer, eyes wide with concern as he shared a glance with mireille.

his voice a murmur, as if he was afraid the gust of his voice would be enough to knock the reedy boy over. hello, lafayette. how are you feeling?

the question took him unawares, and he turned his head quick—too quick, it seemed, as his vision swam for a few heartbeats before resuming its normal even keel. luckily, both voice and face were familiar. . .and corporeal, too.

papa val, lafayette replied quietly. he was happy to see the dark-furred man, and smiled despite the circumstances. i'm tired. i—

a somnolent ruddy figure nearby caught his attention, and he focused upon lucette. she was so still—did she breathe? yes, he reassured himself, letting out his own relieved exhale at the sight of her ribs rising and falling, even if slowly.

did she get taken by de wave, too? he asked val, looking uneasy. he remembered someone reaching, grasping. . .he'd assumed the adults had taken him out of the water.

had lucette pulled him free, instead?

val’s smile was a fleeting thing as it stole across his worried features and did not quite touch the eternal green of his eyes. lafayette’s condition fared better than his sister, but as he turned his head val saw a jarring emotion swim in his eyes.

easy, he cautioned, gently rubbing the boy’s shoulder. your sister would not have losing you to the sea. he commented dryly, marveling on the instinct that guided sweet lucerne into the waves. you both have lots of resting to do.

they came without warning, the tears. they spilled out before the first sob, and then there were only a couple more shudders before lafayette managed to compose himself. 

thus, he wept quietly and carefully at his sister's bravery. he pressed his muzzle to her temple, and then shifted to embrace her, cheek rested upon her shoulder.

she try to save me? lafayette asked val, sniffling slightly. his cheeks were dark and wet, eyes glimmering even in the dim light of the den. but de sea save us both. an' i stay here until she wakes up.

gratitude beyond words. how could he ever thank her enough?

aye, she did. val’s expression softened as the boy wept. he placed a paw gently upon lafayette’s shoulder.

she is a good sister. you know, i once had a sister like her. he smiled to himself, though his gaze turned forlorn. regin. she would have stopped at nothing to save me, just like lucette did to you. he did not believe the sea had saved them, though he kept this to himself. you are a good brother too, to stay here until she wakes up. i am sure she is very worried about you.

and val was worried for her — the longer she slept, the more grim the outcome. but he kept this knowledge close to his heart.

you did? lafayette asked, wonder filling his voice. it did not escape him, however, that val spoke of his sister in past tense. where had she gone? why was she not here?

he decided not to ask. not yet, anyway.

i'm worried, too, he replied softly, pressing his muzzle into her ruddy scruff. he let out a little sigh, sending those rufous hairs shivering in the wake of his exhale.

papa val, i saw ot'er wolves when i was sleepin', lafayette went on. dey made me feel much better in de dreamin'. two women, i t'ink.

where had regin gone? val's expression darkened as he thought of the deep, and how cold and lonely it must be there.

the roar of the sea suddenly consumed his ears, gone nearly the moment he recognized it.

it warmed his heart to see how close lucette and lafayette were; he stroked the broad stripe of black down lucette's back as lafayette buried himself into his sister's fur. wake up, he begged.

you did? val turned his attention back to the somber eyes of his son. do you know who they were? he frowned, hoping that the pair of eyes that followed him his entire life did not also follow his children.

one, maybe, he replied, eyes narrowing as he tried to summon the images of his dreams once more. she lookin' like etienne, and he told me he look like granmè erzulie. . .so maybe her?

and as for the other, he wasn't sure.

an' de ot'er, she lookin' a bit like chacal, lafayette said with a shrug, briefness of which cloaked his true interest in her identity. an' wit' erzulie—or wolf dat look like erzulie. i dunno, he concluded, a little frustrated that he didn't in fact know.

i wonder if dere talkin' to luce, too, while she sleepin', he murmured. i hope so, papa val.

without being there himself to see the spectres in Lafayette’s vision, it was impossible to know. val studied the face of his son for any fear, reading instead a tired resignation that made his heart ache.

i hope so too. his mind turned to an early memory, saved in an unseen place. his maman helping him gather seaweed, the light of the sea bouncing in her eye. his heart still carried her memory, and he wondered if in turn her spirit carried the thoughts of his son. it warmed him to think of her standing there now, guiding lafayette. perhaps it is a friend of your grandme, watching over you both. he tried to remember who else looked like chacal; there were many dark wolves to pass sapphique’s halls and it was impossible to know which for sure. could it be rosalyn instead, the shadows playing with her dark pelt? your grandme was a powerful woman. if you saw her, that can only be a good thing. she must be protecting you.

for a moment, val was impossibly sad.

he was lulled into a beautiful kind of stupor by val's words of wolves gone by, of those that had formed the foundation of sapphique.

papa val, tell me more about her, lafayette said. he tried to stifle a yawn, but it escaped his jaws, and he looked bashful for it. i wanna know about granmè.

he was curled happily into his twin, verdant eyes half-lidded as he looked at the dark-pelted man, waiting for his response.

the sadness he felt curled around his heart like a vise, but lafayette’s interest was the shining light in those dark corridors, chasing the shadows away.

he managed a smile, though his eyes misted ever so slightly. she was — he paused. the most perfect soul i ever knew.

lafayette curled around lucette, two sleeping parts of a yin and yang. val sat besides them. he told them of rosalyn - of her hard stare and scarred features. of how much she knew about everything; from picking the right kelp for wound poultice, to measuring the strength of an enemy. he told them about how she’d survived a kidnapping, fought a bear, raised and saw more children than most would see in a lifetime. he told them of how she loved fiercely and proudly; of her wife, erzulie — the beautiful blade of the sea. of how erzulie was measured and dynamic at once, a stormy port with high seas and yet beautiful, calm waters. of the intelligent bite of her stare; of how etienne looked so much like her it hurt his heart. of how she’d stormed the fort when her wife had been kidnapped — how she looked as she descended upon her enemy camp like a loosened djinn. of her ultimate sacrifice to end the torment of the bear; and in that moment she’d been so breathtakingly whole and wolven.

he told them of raleska - his sibling turned mother. of how she’d, alongside the matriarchs of sapphique, had endured insolvency. through her persevering nature rusalka had become sapphique. he told them what little he knew of her life before that point.

he told them about their ties to the sea witch, the ghost that could not let the ancient halls of ankyra go. whose soul still roamed those damp and forgotten halls, and at night, how you could hear her breath rattle through the tunnels.

and he told them of their male predecessors too; of sobo, the aspiring man whose life had been tragically cut short by the fangs of the bear. of kaertok, who laid his life down to see sapphique thrive. of vercingtorix, whose spine was made of steel cables. of njord, and rosencrantz, and all the other faceless men that had help form the backbone of this proud and small nation.

and in the end he told them sapphique’s oldest and most powerful incantation:

sapphique will see you thrive.