◆ ◆ ◆
Seeing Samuel’s visage in four separate tolls had to have marked some sort of new record. It was more than she’d seen Drey, even. Kissing him was far, far more awkward, even with lips not her own and love not hers to give. Octavia wasn’t sure how she was going to look him in the eyes after this, should they meet again. She wasn’t even sure how she was going to look Mina in the eyes later. In her defense, the latter had absolutely no way of knowing.
Octavia was foolish, somewhat, in the way she couldn’t help but focus on Samuel more than her actual stranger. She was well aware of that much. It was a reflex from her toll-born investigation of Drey’s unfortunate butterfly effect, searching for hints of more closely-guarded secrets in lieu of Samuel's personal life. It wasn’t that Octavia was disinterested in her stranger, beautiful as she was and happy as she could be. If the smile on Samuel’s face upon her entry into a room meant anything, the feeling was more than mutual.
She was every bit as lovely in the soft ivories of matrimony as she was in the plainer fabrics of a life lovingly made in the home. It was endearing to see a man burdened with the weight of so many secrets return to fresh, warm meals and unwavering adoration. Octavia couldn’t help but wonder at what point he'd begin dabbling in Drey’s more sinister affairs. Would it show on his face as he crossed the threshold into that beautiful abode? There was a very, very low chance Priscilla might be in this toll. The thought made Octavia’s heart pound.
Seeing Mina with her hair growing well past her shoulders was a bit of a surprise. It was cute that she’d kept the same barrettes all these years.
She was beloved, relentlessly so. Samuel’s long hours--presumably at SIAR already, if his familiar taste in clothing had been anything to go by--didn't afford him the comforts of day after day spent with his daughter in his arms. That wasn't the case for her stranger, a homemaker as she was. The snippets and flashes Octavia found were bright and shining for more reasons than one, overflowing with the happiness that accompanied motherhood.
The woman whose eyes she stole loved fiercely, shaping Mina’s world with just as much affection as that with which she’d blessed Samuel. For that, too, Octavia felt warm. The magic of her presence drew a smile from Mina’s lips each and every time, and it spoke to her splendor in equal measure. In Mina’s defense, she was small. Octavia doubted she was old enough to truly express anything but love for such a mother just yet.
Her stranger didn't cling, nor did she suffocate her daughter. Mina grew, somewhat, given free rein of the world despite her tender age. She was hardly old enough to read the books Samuel had begun to show her, her little hands still struggling to reach high shelves and lift heavy objects. Still, she wasn't restricted, and it was mostly for the better. It was not, perhaps, so wonderful when she brought with her any manner of the outside world into what had once been a tidy house.
Mud was the least of it. Caterpillars were a favorite. Mina's familiar bright grin was already well under development as she proudly thrust her new discoveries into the face of a beloved stranger. As to what she would return with on any given day, it was anyone’s guess. It was amusing, somewhat, how supportive this woman was of her uncouth behavior--young or not.
What’s that, sweetheart?
A snail.
Where did you find it?
A leaf.
It’s very cute. You should put it back, though. It lives outside. Can we say bye together?
Okay.
Somewhere along the way, it seemed, Mina had lost her interest in nature. Octavia chalked it up to the wonders of childhood alone, a world still so yet unexplored that the oddities of the great outdoors hadn’t yet had a chance to unsettle her. It was still funny.
What’s that?
A mushroom.
Go wash your hands. Did you put it in your mouth?
Can I?
No.
She made a mental note to ask if this was a persisting interest, at least.
What…is that?
A triangle.
Where did you get a triangle?
Outside.
Yes, but…where?
On the ground.
It was just…there?
Yeah.
Does it belong to someone?
I dunno. Can I keep it?
I…suppose, for now. If we find whoever owns it, we have to give it back, okay?
Okay.
She didn’t use it right away. It was initially decorative, displayed for at least several days with great love and care. It wasn’t as though Octavia had ever seen a Harmonial Instrument wear down or grow particularly filthy--although she was guilty of polishing Stradivaria out of courtesy from time to time. Mina, too, had an identical idea. She boasted of her find to Samuel, at one point. It was something inorganic, for once, that spoke not to infestation or food poisoning.
What do I do with it?
It’s an instrument, sweetheart. See that part? You have to hit it.
Really hard?
Be gentle. Tap it nicely. Hold it like this, okay?
My fingers feel weird.
It’s little. You’ll get used to holding it.
They’re all tingly.
The metal’s cold, huh?
Not really.
For as small as those fingers were, Mina mastered its grasp fairly quickly.
When you tap it, it’ll make a really pretty sound.
I wanna do that!
Her stranger’s laugh was bubbly, just as beautiful as herself. I’m sure it’ll sound wonderful.
I can do it. Watch!
Again, she laughed. Show me.
Okay.
Where Octavia usually found the darkness that came with death, she instead found utter, blinding white. It was instantaneous, quicker than her borrowed eyes could blink. It was the most abrupt ending to a toll she’d ever had.
◆ ◆ ◆
She hadn’t even registered that it ended, initially. Octavia jolted as she came up, recoiling with such ferocity that her chair squeaked against the floor. It was a miracle that what remained of her tea hadn’t spilled. It had been awhile since a toll had shaken her, even those which had been relatively gruesome. Whether it was the sudden conclusion or the content itself, Octavia wasn’t sure. She’d ruled out familiar faces in tolls upon coming to Tacell. It was her fault for forgetting Samuel’s, even in passing. It took her a moment to catch her breath.
Mina smirked. “I told you it was bad.”
Octavia winced, waving her hands hurriedly. “N-No, it’s okay! I really have…seen worse.”
Mina crossed her arms. “I mean, the tolls I have seen you witness had you reacting a bit more calmly than that.”
She hated to admit that her heart was still racing. “It was just…surprising.”
Mina rested her cheek against her hand once more, her smirk slipping clean off of her face. “Yeah, well, it surprised me, too. Bet that was a new experience for you.”
Mina’s morbid sass was getting difficult to respond to. Octavia still tried her best. “It’s not the first time I’ve seen one of my friends’ parents in a toll, at least.”
She was gambling, taking her chances on words that would either hurt the Maestra or resonate with her well. Mina’s demeanor was hard to pin down verbatim. To her immense surprise, it worked, and a new smirk grew in place of one that had fluttered away moments before. “We’re friends, then?”
Octavia smiled bashfully. “I mean, I…like to imagine.”
“We’ve only known each other for a few weeks.”
She beamed instead. “I’ve made lifelong friends in much less time than that.”
Mina cocked her head. “Heartful, Heartful, Heartful, right to the core. Who needs a Soulful Maestro when you’re this easy to read?”
“What do you mean?”
Mina waved one hand dismissively. "Nothing. Keep being yourself. I’ll hold up my end of the bargain when the time comes.”
“I…thank you,” Octavia said. “I mean it. You really don’t have to.”
“What are friends for?” she teased gently. “Thank you for not…judging me.”
Octavia shook her head. “I would never.”
“Do you want more tea?”
“Yes, please. I like the way you make it.”
Mina’s grin was growing on her. “The Ambassador likes my tea. One hell of an honor.”
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Octavia laughed. The silence between them as Mina delicately stole her teacup was comfortable, in a way--particularly relative to the brutal toll she’d just been privy to. With Mina’s back to her as she handled every drop of honey and tender leaf with care, she hoped the same grin was waiting for her when the girl turned around again. Octavia didn’t quite expect the sigh.
“You’re easy to talk to. I like that. I…like that you don’t judge.”
She awaited Mina’s return with a smile of her own. “You’re fun to talk to, to be fair. You make it easy.”
“I used to hate my lightning.”
Octavia paused, the smile she’d held onto fading fast despite her best efforts. Mina met her not with a grin, but with soft eyes and a full cup.
“Can you…really blame me?” she joked loosely. “My dad seriously wanted me to stop being a Maestra. For a while, I did, too. There’s still some days when I think about calling it quits early, even though I know that time isn’t too far around the corner to begin with.”
Octavia accepted her steaming seconds with quiet grace, offering her full attention and muted hurt on the Maestra’s behalf.
“It…wasn’t until Tacell became a thing that I actually got to meet another Essenced Maestra, let alone one who’d made a mistake. Granted, it wasn’t the same mistake, but it was a mistake nonetheless. I guess the difference is that I didn’t pay for my mistake with…myself, really.”
“Is it someone who’s still around?” Octavia asked.
Mina nodded with a soft smile. “Mint taught me how to be proud of my lightning again. I owe her that. I’m grateful to the Ensemble for everything they do, but I…I’ll always have a soft spot for my Essenced siblings. The ones who’ve learned to love that legacy, and who fight through the danger it comes with.”
Her smile was warmer than tea, and worth quite a bit more. Octavia gave her the same. “I’m…glad you have each other. Still, you get along well with people outside your legacy, too. I think you and Francisco are fairly close, if I’m interpreting that right.”
Mina scoffed. “Wrong tree. That Essenced boy you hang out with, though? Not half bad. Is he ever coming back here? What does he like to eat for dinner?”
Octavia smirked. “Eww.”
“Am I stepping on your toes, there?”
“Also eww.”
She laughed. “To each their own, I suppose. As far as playing nice outside of my legacy, I suppose I can make a bit of room for some Heartful company from time to time.”
Octavia beamed once more. In Mina's presence, it was becoming a reflex. “I’d like that a lot.”
“And I’m excited to get to fight like hell, for once,” Mina said, reclaiming a grin of her own. “I’ve never gotten to go all-out. When you’re ready, I’ll be there. You can count on me, Ambassador.”
It was a warm thought, her words much the same. There was, perhaps, an irony to be found in the way Octavia’s loathsome butterfly effect had begun with Drey and ended with Mina. It was bittersweet, a trickling rain that trailed all the way to a radiant thunderstorm. She had half a mind to write to Samuel once more, to thank him for the Maestra he’d blessed the world with--even for all he’d lost to a different world, so unfamiliar and dangerous.
With her own pain on the horizon, it still felt good to be the sponge for the pain of another. For all of the superstition the girl found in legacies, it was Mina's heart that Octavia prayed to protect. She prayed to keep the spectacular grin that sent lightning through her blood, just as much.
----------------------------------------
By comparison, it was impossible to protect a soul that wasn’t by her side. The thought was nauseating. The news was enough that Octavia couldn’t breathe, temporary or otherwise. Panic was instant.
“You’re leaving?”
Viola nodded. “It won’t be for long.”
Fighting the pain in her voice was impossible. “Why?”
“They need the help. The more Soulful Maestros they have, the better. It’ll be easier to find this person, especially since this whole search is kind of…experimental.”
“But why do you have to go?” Octavia whined.
Viola stifled a laugh. “Because I’m Soulful, silly. This may come as a shock to you. This is a good chance to hone my gift, too, selfish as that is.”
“Please don’t go.”
Octavia’s hands were atop the Maestra’s own before she could blink, the motion as reflexive as it was desperate. She clung to Viola for dear life, even as the latter flinched beneath her sudden grasp. “Stay with me,” Octavia pleaded.
This time, Viola did laugh, albeit softly. “What, you gonna miss me?”
Octavia hated the way her voice cracked. “Yes.”
Viola’s face fell. “I…really won’t be gone that long, I promise. We’ll find her and we’ll bring her right back.”
“You don’t know that.”
“I do.”
“What if it takes a while?”
“That’s part of why I’m going--so that it doesn’t.”
“What am I supposed to do without you?”
Viola’s eyes were as soft as her words. “Octavia, you have everyone else. I know Renato’s good to you, and you have Harper and Madrigal--”
“But they’re not you!” she cried, standing on the edge of tears. “You’re supposed to be here!”
Viola sighed gently. “Why me?”
“Because!”
“Because why?”
“Because I said so!”
Viola smiled. “That’s not a very good reason.”
Her teasing was lost on Octavia, distressed as she was. “You’re important. I don’t want to be apart from you.”
Viola tilted her head. “You know, I…don’t actually think we’ve been apart that much since this whole thing started. At all, really, or at least not for very long.”
Octavia nodded sadly. “I don’t want to start now.”
“I’ll be back before you know it. Keep doing what you’re doing. Keep yourself busy. Don’t do that thing where you sit around with your own thoughts and drive yourself insane.”
“I don’t--”
“Yes you do,” Viola said with a smirk. “You absolutely do.”
Octavia flushed. “I-I…how do I know you’ll be safe?”
The same smirk was endless. “What, you don’t think I’m a strong enough Maestra to protect myself?”
“N-No, it’s not that!” Octavia reassured hurriedly, shaking her head much the same.
“There’s a bunch of other Soulful coming. Briar’s coming along, too. I don’t know much about him just yet, but I feel pretty confident with an Apex by our side. I’ll be okay. I promise.”
It wasn’t quite enough to ease her racing heart. Viola tapped her fingertips against the back of Octavia’s hands repeatedly, still bound as she was in the Ambassador’s grip.
“And you’ll stay safe for me, too, right?”
Octavia nodded once more in silence. It was enough to earn a smile once more.
“You’ve gotta let go,” Viola murmured. “They’re waiting on me.”
“W-Wait,” Octavia begged. “Can you give me a second? Don’t leave yet.”
When her hands were suddenly freed once more, Viola raised an eyebrow as she flexed her once-constricted fingers. “What’s up?”
“Stay there!”
“Where are you going?”
“Don’t leave yet! Just wait a second!”
If she had any objections to being left outside, they were inaudible to Octavia. Her speed served her well in taking the stairs two at a time, her boots slamming against the wood so fervently that she feared she might leave dents. Even now, her heart was pounding from stress rather than exertion.
At the very least, it didn’t take her long to find. She’d always kept it in the drawer of her nightstand, easily accessible for evenings when she couldn’t sleep. It wasn’t quite perfect. It was close enough, satisfactory in most ways. It was her fault for being picky, particularly with the finer details, and there were still aspects she chided herself over faltering on. She was only mildly self-conscious.
Octavia cradled it tenderly in her hands all the way down the steps, taken just as quickly as she’d come. It would be a miracle if the entire cottage hadn’t heard her frantic flight, let alone her blaring heartbeat. This, too, was a piece of her heart, after all. She wondered if she should’ve varnished it first. She kicked herself for not having the foresight to pick up finishing materials while she was still in Coda. There was absolutely no way she’d find them out here.
Even before the Maestra she couldn’t stand to see depart, she still debated surrendering a job mostly done. Maybe it meant little. That would sting more, perhaps, although she could understand why.
“What’s wrong?” Viola asked with worry.
Octavia wasn’t quite panting as she caught her breath, but it was surely enough to contribute to the apprehension she could feel splashed across her face. It took two hands and more willpower than it should’ve to make her offer, cupping her little creation delicately.
“T-This is for you,” she breathed, every wobbling word touched by anxiety. “I wasn’t sure when to give it to you, but I feel like now’s a good time. M-Maybe if you get lonely, you can look at it and…think of me.”
Octavia bit her lip. It was a shame she couldn’t go back in time and swallow her last sentence, struggling to contain the embarrassment that came with it. She was almost afraid to look Viola in the eyes, and it took conscious effort to do so.
The sparkle she found made her heart pound in a different way. “You made that?”
Octavia nodded quickly, her braids whipping her cheeks in the process. “I-It’s not perfect. I didn’t get to varnish it. I forgot to get varnish when we were in Coda. Maybe I should’ve painted it. Your favorite color is blue, right? I didn’t get any paint, either, though, but maybe I could dye it with something. A-And it was my first time trying to carve anything, so I had trouble getting the little branches symmetrical. I think some of them are longer than others. See this one? It almost broke. I didn’t--”
The finger that pressed against her lips was startling, perhaps just as much as those that settled atop her little balsa snowflake with care. “It’s perfect. Is it…really for me?”
With her words stowed away, Octavia could only nod yet again. Viola beamed.
“It’s perfect,” she breathed. “I love it.”
The butterflies in Octavia’s stomach weren’t quite as unpleasant as usual. With the theft of her art came the return of her speech. “R-Really?”
The way Viola gazed at it in her own hands with such adoration was heartwarming, turning it in every direction as she inspected the tiny sculpture. “I’ll keep it safe. If…I was Willful or something, then, what would you have made?”
Octavia shrugged, fighting to control her smile. She failed miserably. “I-I don’t know. Maybe, like…a little fire, or something.”
Viola scoffed. “What’s a fire shaped like, exactly?”
“That would’ve been a problem for a different me.”
Viola laughed. It was wonderful.
When she thrust the snowflake directly in front of Octavia’s face, the balsa just inches from her lips, Octavia nearly stumbled backwards. She blinked.
“Okay, now kiss it.”
Again, Octavia blinked. Then, she blushed--hard. “E-Excuse me?”
Viola smirked. “For luck. Safe travels, and all that. It’ll be my little good luck charm.”
Octavia waved her hands frantically, still unable to battle the scarlet that plagued her cheeks. “Y-You don’t have to go that far!”
“But I want to, and you made it, so that means you have to be the one to bless it. Just one little kiss. Help me out here.”
Why the task threatened to make her heart burst out of her chest, Octavia had no clue. “F-Fine,” she whined.
In retrospect, varnish probably wouldn’t have tasted great, nor would it have been particularly safe to get in her mouth. Paint wouldn’t have been much of an improvement. Even just pecking her lips against balsa, as quick and vehemently awkward as the motion was, was surely not the greatest for her health. It definitely did things to her mentally, on a more indescribable level.
Viola grinned, satisfied. “See? That wasn’t so hard. Thank you very much.”
“You are so weird,” Octavia muttered, exceedingly conscious of her more-than-visibly-evident embarrassment.
The feeling of the Maestra’s arms thrown around her in earnest was a welcome compensation. She froze beneath the Soulful girl’s sudden embrace, the satin of her bow brushing gently against Octavia’s neck as she nuzzled close. She was warm.
“I promise I’ll be back soon,” Viola whispered. “Take care of yourself.”
Octavia had wondered exactly how long she’d be able to stem her tears. This, apparently, was the breaking point. She wrapped her arms around Viola in turn, burying her face against the girl’s shoulder. “I already miss you.”
Even muffled, she could hear Viola laugh. “I didn’t even go yet.”
“Doesn’t matter.”
“Don’t forget about me, okay?”
Octavia giggled through her tears. “You wish.”
When they parted once more, there was little left to be self-conscious about as her preemptive loneliness dripped down her cheeks. Ever so gently, Viola captured one tear with a thumb, banishing it from Octavia's skin carefully.
“Cut it out. If you don’t stop doing that, I’m not gonna want to leave.”
“I’m gonna do it harder now.”
Viola laughed again. No matter how many times she did it, it was still just as lovely.
“Good luck,” Octavia whispered through her tears, summoning her brightest smile.
Viola waved the balsa snowflake. “I’ve got plenty of it right here.”
“I-I…” Octavia stammered. “I…be safe. Come back soon.”
Viola nodded with a brilliant smile of her own. “I will. Wait for me.”
“I always will.”
Seeing Viola turn on her heel and leave her side for the first time in months was perhaps the most painful experience of all, necessary as it was. There was lament to be had in how much preparations for the Hell on the horizon were taking from her, even temporarily. Even so, even in the midst of the way her eyes swam with tears and her heart threatened to break in two, something pulsed in Octavia's soul that felt good. As the Maestra’s image faded further and further away with every step towards her valiant mission, the smile Viola left in her wake was, perhaps, a good luck charm of its own.