"Don't forget me."

The conversation kept ringing inside her head, pounding against the walls of her mind until it was all she could hear, all she could focus on with a body that felt strangely numb, untethered, like she was watching her linger around the garden from another person's eyes. Delia could still feel it even hours later when she'd finally been allowed to leave, the humming of her veins rushing with power, the tingle that curled at the tips of her fingers and toes like a deadly promise filled with threat, slithering up and getting weaker and weaker the longer she was away from her own morality.

Saints, how had everything changed so quickly? How had she turned from nothing, literally nothing, a girl who couldn't even move the smallest of puddles to monster who could tear the blood from your mortal corpse without even breaking a sweat. Is that what she'd always been? Was she born with hatred hidden inside her, twisting her from the inside out until it had finally exploded out from the seams? Or was she created? Was she formed from cruel words and bruising hands, hardened with lies and false ideals and ruined with the malice the others had bestowed upon her?

There was so many questions and not enough answers, Delia thought, staring out into the night sky where only the stars bore witness to her turmoil, her dark eyes aching with unurshed tears and her shoulders heavy fron carrying the weight of the Generals empty words...they were going to change the world, that's what he'd told her with hands gentle and gaze hungry, they were going to change the world...but she knew what he truly meant by that, though carefully hidden by charm and kindness...he meant that they were going to be its destruction, not their salvation, and she was going to be his monster.

Well, she was going to be his monster eventually, when she'd come back...when she'd found the amplifier that would solidify her ruin completely. A basilisk was a terrifying creature, something that had become a horror story and for very good reason, it's size, it's deadly teeth dripping with venom, it's haunting eyes, it's bloodthirsty rage, all of those things and more to the point where villagers and grisha alike had banned together to slaughter them all and lost many of their numbers alongside it, losing themselves to their fear and hoping death was worth it for blood to be spilled.

Everyone had been sure they were extinct, hoped it actually considering those creatures were the stuff of legend and myth coated with strife and spun with grief to hide the gory details...nothing more than a story told to children to warn them about hearing whispers, about what it meant when spiders hid and the earth seemed to still with the faint sound of hissing heavy in the air like agony before the last thing you gaze would ever see was red eyes and long, decaying teeth before you were swallowed whole...and she was going to be the unlucky bastard to kill it for her own amplifier.

Delia stared up at the moon and prayed to the saints for answers, for comfort, for hope, for the blessing to feel something other than the fear that was taking over and overwhelming her so completely to the point of ruin. But nothing happened, nothing but the breeze that danced over her sharp features that made her skin erupt in goosebumps and chills, nothing but the sound of the howling wind in the distance, nothing but the stars twinkling down upon her and bathing her in their ethereal light as jealousy festered inside her, wishing that like them, she was far away from the mortal coil of the earth.

"I thought I'd find you here."

The shu girl didn't have to turn around to see who the voice belonged to, already knowing by the way her heart seemed to sing in bliss, the way a certain calmness settled over her that finally made the tension realese from her shoulders so she could breathe. Perhaps if she loved Genya less, she'd be able to talk about it more...but she knew she could start fires with what she felt for her, knowing no end to desiring her, and knowing that the tailor could slit her throat and Delia would thank her for merely touching her skin...she was never sure what peace was supposed to feel like, but she thought it must feel like the way she felt for her.

Out of the corner of eye, she could see that familar blessed colour of liquid flame as she came to stand next to her, looking out at the same night sky she did, and she couldn't help but wonder what she saw. Did beauty recognise beauty? Did she think about the stars? Did the stars think about her, in awe of her like she was them? Questions rushed at her, heartfelt things, longing things that made her ache with all the things she wanted to say but couldn't, until finally, she couldn't bear her own desire anymore and had to force her gaze away. "You always manage to find me, don't you?"

Genya scoffed quietly, and somehow the sound felt like a blessed thing, a gift for her ears, with an amused glimmer in her bright eyes that sparked prettier than any jewel or crown, so effortlessly ethereal that sometimes it was hard to remember that she was human, grisha, instead of truly being a saint or something else as immortal and pure as she linked her arms with the tide-maker once more, and tried to pull her away from the gentle waters that lapped at her feet. "Of course I do! That's what friends are for! Now come on, I managed to fend off the others for your chocolate-"

But she didn't get very far before Delia rooted herself into the ground like a dying willow, forcing then to a stop as she struggled to even open her mouth to explain herself, all the pain she couldn't say out loud building a home inside her, shaking the bones that lay beneath her skin and making her blood thrum, her dark gaze staring up at the tailor without her usual ease. "Can we just sit here for a while? Please."

There was a moment where the earth seemed to stand still, where the wind on her skin was too much, where she felt like she couldn't even breathe, even when Genya laughed and said of course, sitting down onto the bench just overlooking the pond and patting the seat next to her for the shu girl to sit, and the moment she did so, she started spiraling into some gossip she'd heard through the palace walls, leaning in close with a certain spark in her glorious eyes that made her feel like the only person in the world...and Delia simply sat there and let her talk, not listening to a word as her gaze lingered over her every feature, searing them into her mind greedily in the hope she'd never forget it.

If she could go back in time, back to all those years ago when they'd met, when they'd found each other with one soaked to the bone after being pushed into the lake, shivering from limb to limb and hiding under an archway while the other looked like she'd walked out of a fairytale when she'd simply happened upon her, so beautiful that for a moment Delia was sure magic existed in the world that had once seemed so cruel. If she could go back in time, she'd tell her younger self to not take the other girls hand and save herself this awful turmoil, this pain at the simple thought of saying goodbye because she truly wasn't sure if it was worth it.

And then without her permission, the dam that had once been her composure crumbled as she swallowed thickly, her dark eyes aching with unurshed tears that fell ever so slowly, sliding down the sharp contours of her face and falling onto her lap with every drop echoing like a explosion that rattled her bones. Saints, what was she meant to say? How was she supposed to leave? How was she meant to pretend that she wasn't leaving a piece of herself here? What was she going to do?

But before she could even attempt to speak up, to spit out some words even though her entire mouth felt like it was choking on the ashes of her sins and desires, it seemed that Genya finally noticed that something wasn't quite right when she looked at the shu girl for her thoughts on a subject, only to see the way she was shaking, the way she looked completely and utterly destroyed, far more than she usually would after her day of abuse from the others...and realised that something was most definitely wrong as she gasped. "Are you crying? What's wrong?...What actually happened today because you've been acting so...different."

"I, uh...I did something bad, Genya. Something really bad."

"Delia, you're scaring me, just- just tell me what's wrong and we'll fix it." The tailor stumbled over her words, seemingly forgetting herself as she stared at the tide-maker fearfully, sinful scenarios drowning out every rational thought in her head as they mounted on top of each other, each one more horrifying than the last because what on earth could Delia of all people do that was so awful? So horrific that she was sitting in front of her tearing at the seams of her own sanity.

"What happened to Zoya, it was me. I was the one that hurt her, I was the monster who possessed her." I was the one who did it, I was the one who twisted her into my perfect puppet with disgusting ease, I was the one that felt her blood as it bent to my will, I was the one who enjoyed it, enjoyed her screams, her fear, all of their terrible fear curling inside my stomach like substances and making me full. It all kept piling up inside her head, each confession weighing down upon her shoulders until she was ready to fall to her bloodied knees and scream into the heavens and ask why it was her they cursed, why it was her they blessed.

Genya froze for a moment, waiting for the punchline of the sick joke, waiting for the laughter, that sweet curl of the tide-makers lips that always made her burn with the desire to press her own against them, just so see if they tasted as such...but when nothing happened, she was brought out of her stupor with an abrupt start. "What? What are you talking about?-"

"I could feel it, could feel everything. The waters never bent to my will because they were never for me to control...but blood is." Delia whispered, staring out into the sky, across the horizon at the cluster of trees that shook as the wind howled, not daring to look over to ger friend because she was terrified of what she'd see reflecting back on her ethereal face. Would there be disgust? Hatred? Horror? Would she finally see what everyone else seemed to and run back off into the safety of the palace? Away from the monster that not even legends talked about in myths.

"But that's- that's not possible. You can't-"

"The General is sending me away tomorrow, that's why he was looking for me. I'm getting an amplifier and-" She forced herself to take a breath, feeling the way it filled her lungs until she couldn't hold it anymore and let it out, watching the white cloud of that was pushed out of her trembling lips as it danced for a moment in the cold night air before it disappeared, longing to join it, to fade out of existence as she sighed quietly and ripped the final bandage off from the gaping wound and readying herself to bleed out in her grief. "And I don't know when I'm coming back, or if I'm coming back at all."

And then the ball seemed to drop for the tailor that this wasn't some elaborate joke, her hope dying in her chest like burning embers as she finally, finally registered what the shu girl was saying. And Genya knew that she should of focused on the terrible truth that it was Delia who was the cause of the haunting whispers that stalked the night, the rumours of something dark and powerful taking hold which made the gods mourn...but all her mind seemed to focus on was that she was leaving, and that she didn't know she was coming back. "Tomorrow? But that's not fair! I can't- that's not enough time to say goodbye."

"I know." Delia said simply, because there was nothing else to say, nothing that would comfort either of them or make them feel better. The world wasn't fair, the world was cruel and taking, and the rest of humanity had learnt from it like a daughter from a cold mother...and then she watched as Genya masked her devastation like it hadn't been there in the first place, faking composure as she took the tide-makers hand in her own and smiled a smile that was far too wide and trembling to be real.

"Well, what do you want to do? Name it and we'll do it, we can have a walk across the grounds, we can go steal some treats from the kitchen, go to the library-"

There was a desperation in the tailor's voice, a shaking sharpness that hadn't been there before as she listed off their favourite things to do, but every one of them didn't reach Delia, barely even brushed the surface as she focused on the warm hand resting in her own, her thumb moving across the beautiful skin comfortingly, even as she shook her head, even when she whispered that she didn't want to do any of those things until Genya finally snapped and broke because they had to do something. "Then what do you want?"

You, Genya, you. "I just want to sit here with you." The shu girl whispered honestly, because how else would she want to spend her last day than with the tailor who'd opened up suns in her chest with her mere presence, her smile, her strength, just her and her and her. Her love and grief filled her body just as much as bones, and as she sat there upon her pond, looking at the stars with her palm resting in hers, she honesty thought that whatever goodbye she could of had if she were popular, if others were kinder...it wouldn't of came close to the bliss she felt right there by the red-heads side who'd became quiet, even as her hold tightened and her bottom lip wobbled.

The saints may of made her a monster, may of twisted and maimed her from the inside out until her hands were only made to control one thing, they may of ripped her flesh and revealed her to be nothing but a voidless haze of blood and godhood with her crimson stained teeth, but as long as she loved, as long as she loved with every broken piece of her heart, then she could accept whatever fate threw at her to destroy her.

Another guest of wind swept through the palace, howling softly in her ears as the waters of the pond rippled, splashing ever so gently against the rocks as the nightlife continued, calling out through the darkness as bushes shuffled and trees swayed, a serene scene for such a painful night as the stars, the moon, the silver glow bathed down upon them, immortalised in its wake as the world simply continued to move around them, the minutes stretching to hours as the two sat there and mourned each other, everything they wanted to say choking on their tongue...until finally, the sky began to lighten as the sun peaked out from over the horizon like a death sentence and bringing melancholy in its wake.

"I don't want to say goodbye." Genya said quietly, turning to face Delia who smiled tightly, because she knew, by the saints she knew exactly what she was talking about as tears began to blur her vision, taking a hitching breath that sounded more like a sob as her dark gaze frantically looked at her every feature once more, hoping she appeared more put together than she felt, hoping she didn't look so scared, so terrified of the future that awaited her.

"I know. But we have to."

The tailor nodded in agreement, her face crumbling for half a second, letting go of her defences, her composure and allowing herself just a moment to feel weak, before she moved forward slowly, pressing her forehead against Delia's and clenching her eyes shut, refusing to let the tears fall as she felt the tide-maker press back against her skin with just as much strength, feeling like they were the only two in the world, and finding it cruel that they were going to be torn apart when the other was all they had, and then Genya whispered something, her voice tight and breathless, and praying to the saints that her hope would be true. "Don't forget about me."

"Impossible."

And when one of the older and more experienced tide-makers finally appeared to pull Delia away with the order for her to start moving as the ship was ready, she remembered that promise as she walked through the palace, feeling like a noose was tied around her fragile neck and getting tighter with every step, telling herself that no matter how long she was gone, whether it be a month or ten years or forever, she'd never forget eyes so blue that the sea itself would drown itself in shame, she'd never forget the girl with burning embers for hair, and she'd never forget the girl who made her know the meaning of the word love.