Aster went throughout the house at dusk, while everyone was still at the next endmeal, shoving things into their little bag made of their bedsheet, which was poorly knit (by Aster, who had been kindly relegated to tasks such as 'fetching raw material' and 'staying out of the way' as soon as they had become old enough to attend to domestic work) and so full of holes that Aster ended up picking out some flat, faulty breads just to patch up the holes. Aster knew full well anything could be fixed by adding water or coral dust to it, or by smearing fruit on it. Food wasn't really a concern. They were raiding the Siida pantry because it tasted good, and if they were going to go on an excursion, they didn't want to come back to ask nicely if they could have something that hadn't come out of the ground in the last few hours.

An Owai padded through the house and sat at Aster's feet. Aster crinkled up their nose and tried to move the animal out of the way, but it tilted its head insistently, then nipped their leg. Aster considered nipping it right back, like they did when they wrestled the Owai when they were young. "You can come," Aster said, instead. They took an extra bit of bread out of the pantry and fed it directly to the Owai. They ruffled its fur, affectionately, and cooed a little. The Owai's stumpy tail waved with excitement. Aster and their new companion trotted through the house at the very tips of their feet, Aster's ears twitching slightly with every moment. They barely had any "ear" around the earholes, but they fully intended to grow something out as an adult, like Cyspel's beautiful fins. They had always preferred the Owai ears, long, thin, and flexible, loved the way that they cocked like those of the Owai at their feet did now. The Owai bolted up, not with fear but with excitement, and its stump of a tail began to swing.

Cyspel stood in the door. Between their hair and their outspread fins, they managed to take out all the light in the room, so that all that followed in behind them was darkness. Aster stared upwards, as they had stared, at times, directly into the blue light of the sun, and with a defiant pout took it upon themselves to stop the shaking in their legs. Cyspel, who had, perhaps as a courtesy to Aster, pretended to notice none of this, asked gently, "Do you think you could have done this at a nicer hour, Aster?"
Aster stiffened. "Done what?"
Cyspel sighed. "You tell me what you intend to do."
Aster looked at their feet. Their gaze darted up to Cyspel, then back to their feet again. At last, they admitted, "I'm going."

"After Ophelia?"

"Just going." Aster frowned at Cyspel's apparent relief, obvious from the relaxed fins and the too-loud sigh which followed. Aster scuffed the ground with one foot. With a sudden frenzy of new energy, they tried to wedge themself around Cyspel, who caught their halfway in the door by moving slightly to the side. Aster, now pinned against the organic shape of the door, clawed at the busted old stone which made up half the entrance, but to little avail. "Let me go, Cyspel!"

"It's late. Quiet down."

"Let me go!" Aster's voice only pitched up, this time deliberately.

Cyspel released Aster. As soon as the tiny panta scampered across the other room, Cyspel had knocked them to the ground and put their hand on their mouth to keep them from screaming. Aster exhaled angrily out of their nose, fearing the worst, their legs, their only defense, locked against them. The little bit of ear they did have tilted back in distress. As their breathing calmed, they were able to hear Cyspel's, just as fast as their own and now that they noticed it, really noticed it, equally as pained. Aster nudged herself closer to Cyspel's scaled skin, noting how the scales that were once so uniform were now beginning to pile atop each other, trying to edge their siblings out of the pattern. Old plates which symbolized Cyspel's protective nature, as well as the care they'd once received at the hands of older Siida who were now long gone, rubbed uncomfortably against each other, fault lines ready to erupt. Cyspel was old. They couldn't have more than two years left, maybe significantly less than that.

At the same time, this was the first time Aster had ever seen Cyspel as a child, like them. This was primarily because Cyspel had begun to cry.

"What's wrong?" asked Aster.

"You were the first dependent I ever got to raise as part of the Covena," Cyspel said. "I don't want you to go, because I'll never see you again, and in two years I won't remember you at all. I want to take our time and do a nice big send-off, the usual way, but you never want things done the normal way, and that makes you so... difficult."

Aster looked at Cyspel's face, almost clean of any spores. The second round of mutations would be on them soon, not as identifiers but as a debilitating wave of mutations that would accompany the hormonal changes that would make them want to find the place where they would fully metamorphose to adulthood, and leave the planet for good. It wasn't the kind of thing you told dependents, but Aster was nosy and prided themselves on it. Aster wiped water away from Cyspel and clutched the older Panta tight. They had wriggled out of this warm grip before, bit its gentle fingers and scratched its inviting arms. Now, they leaned in tight as they could, and Cyspel gave them one last hug.

"Do you know where you're going?" Cyspel asked. "Honestly, if I find you dead within the next year, I will leave angry."

Aster felt Cyspel's surprisingly sharp fin-fingers dig into their back, and was certain that if they died, Cyspel might kill them twice. "With Darter. You don't know them."

"Are they the ten surrounded with dragonflies?"

Aster gaped. "You weren't supposed to know that! Darter's my secret friend."

"Aurant told me."

Aster groaned. "They weren't supposed to tell anyone! They promised!"

"You can't always trust panta. That's going to be especially true when they're out there. Not everyone's nice as the Siida are."

Aster realized, with dread, that Cyspel had gone straight back into adult mode. "Aurant's going to be Siida. They're going to stick around here forever, and never do anything, and care for a bunch of dependents until they run out of years."

"Never do anything? And you're sure there's something out there you intend to do so important that you're willing to risk security for it?"

"Everyone leaves at my age, and no one ever comes back. There has to be something worth having out there."

"There's something for everyone, supposedly." Cyspel sounded halfhearted. "You could become a conquerer and earn horns. You could find friends and lose them, and get your wings. Maybe there's some rarer mutation, tailored to your personality, that will find you. Maybe you'll find more scars to match the one on your leg. It's only that when you get what you want, what you think you want..." Cyspel's voice was cold as the Long Dark, and their expression was no warmer. "You might find you don't want it anymore."

Aster leaned their head against Cyspel. "I guess I'll just have to want the right things."

"Like half my pantry?"
"And Canta," Aster piped up, convinced that their plan was going incredibly.

Cyspel cast them a dry look. "Go ahead, then." They stepped out of the way, and Aster retrieved their bag, cautiously, before dragging it out the door. It fell heavier than expected around their shoulders. Aster looked back a few times for Canta, the Owai.

They whistled. "Ta!" Aster called, whistling again. "Canta, ta!"

"Canta?" asked Cyspel.

The Owai sat stubbornly in the doorway, watching Aster go but not daring, for the life of it, to move. Aster, frustrated, slammed their foot against the ground. "Fine!" Aster trodded off a bit further, then wheeled around again, finding the Owai just as sedentary as they had originally feared. Shuffling the bag of sweets over their back, they bounded off past the perimeter of the Covena.

Past the edge of the trees, Darter waited just out of view of the building's looming lights. They noted the large, bulging bag by tapping it with the back of their hand, then cast Aster an appreciative glance. "Nice."

Aster tilted their head up, proudly. "I told you that I was going to take care of us, didn't I?"

"No," Darter said. "You actually never said that."

"But I meant it," Aster said. "Now take us home."
Silent as the rising moons, Darter wandered back into the woods. The few bugs that remained out at the hour, from small dark flecks to dragonflies whose luminescent flecks glittered in the dull light, clustered about Darter's head, trailing behind them. Aster alternated between closing their eyes tight to avoid the swarm and widening them far as they could go, trying not to let a second of the moment pass them without it being forever burned into their memory.

They came out onto the Big Silver by night. Aster, who had never been allowed out, retrieved a hand from its position within Darter's and clasped it against the other, and both to their mouth. They bent down at the edge where a thousand stars swam in the waters, and felt the water between their fingers.

"It's shallow here," Darter called from way out in the shallows. They waved to Aster. "The cabin's on one of the islands."

Aster probed the water with one of their feet, then, finding the bottom silty and agreeable, stepped precariously out onto the waters. It was so shallow that Aster could feel the small fish darting between their toes, picking at bits of plant matter that had crept in there over the journey. They moved their foot about to deter fish, watching them scatter back to the refuge of dark gray waters, and fiercely plowed on to join Darter. Darter held their hand as they both ascended the shore, which Darter followed out to another bank, gesturing for the two of them to continue on.

"This one's deeper."

Aster tapped two fingers to their face in assent. "There's no problem." They drew the bag up so that it fit comfortably around their shoulders, things jostling and attempting to poke through the fragile mesh all the while, and Aster followed Darter out into the bright waters. The water licked at their midsection, dampening the Siida-knit clothes they'd worn their whole life, though Darter, whose own clothes were ragged and then some, hardly seemed to notice the tides licking at them.

They ascended again, as a pair, and Aster felt the water leave them. They had only just adjusted the temperature, and they were struck by a sudden lack. Darter looked back at them, knowingly, and Aster shivered as subtly as they could.

"I have it. How many more do we have to cross?"

Darter pretended to eye Big Silver with suspicion. "How many do you want to cross?"

"You said you had somewhere to be!"

Darter laughed under their breath. "I was teasing. We're here." They pulled away from the bank, the swarm diminished to just a few stray dragonflies, and began ascending the sloping shoreline. It was particularly steep for such a small island, and the flowers were not the usual weedy white, gold, and blue nothings but a variety of vibrant greens, oranges, and some particularly ornate creme ones sparked with flecks of color around the interior. Once, the flowers may have been set in deliberate arrangements, but left to their own devices, they had begun chewing the scenery, and now they fought in desperate tussles with local flora, the many brands of wildlife attempting to choke each other out. The dense foliage parted effortlessly around Darter, who escorted Aster up a trodden path to a shy cabin deep in the soliage, at the top of a rock-strewn hill. It was much smaller than the Covena, and the holes in it meant that the cover it provided was at best, minimal.

Aster could not have cared less about this. Instead, they noticed that the structure was firm, but not too firm, which meant it could be improved upon. They noticed the little bits of engraving in the wood, the inviting shape of it, and the sweet smell of wood and water, mingling into recognition. As they approached the door, they clutched their stomach, feeling a sudden rash of pain.

"Is something wrong?" Darter asked.

"No..." Aster began. Their skin prickled. "It doesn't matter right now. We're out here, together, alone. Right?"
Darter nodded.

Aster surveyed the room with pride, flopping down on what looked like a pillow in the corner. It was unclear what it was made of, but Aster didn't care, so even though the innards were becoming pointy and not-so-in, they settled themselves there and lay there with fierce determination. Their stomach ached harder, not in the guts but on the surface of the skin, and their spores prickled with a sense of impending danger. Nonetheless, the room around them was disarmingly quiet and still.

Darter lay down next to them. "Hey."

"Hey."
"We did it."
"We did. What now?"

"That's tomorrow's problem."

Aster looked at the ceiling. It was dusty, like the rest of their surroundings, and coated with some dark, distressing moss. They tried to imagine it like a blanket. "I guess it is."

"Mhm."
"Darter?"

"Yes?"

"Is this safe?"

"I've stayed here before."

"You have?"
"Yes. It's one of the safer places."

"Okay." Aster pressed against them. They were warm, faintly, and their hearts beat strongly. "I'm just checking." Aster stared at the ceiling. In the murk of the darkness, they tried to imagine it as the ceiling of the Covena, with the faint herbal scent wreathing around them instead of wet wood and something older and drier from the pillow below, and imagine their old bunk bed below them.

What did I want from this? Aster thought.

The answer came in the dead of night, but without the words to express it, it was hard to trap, and thusly ultimately meaningless.