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It was strange. Something wasn't adding up, and it was weighing heavily on their mind. They'd never forgotten that night- Hal waking them up just in time to hear the conversation being had between Slate and Gabbro. The hurt in Gabbro's eyes when they confronted them and asked what it was about. There was something there, something they hid well; but if you looked closer, you could practically see it. Frustration. Confusion. Anger.
They'd made enough of a reputation telling exaggerated bedtime stories to hatchlings for a lot of the older Hearthians to take their words with a grain of salt.
So, naturally, Slate would nearly immediately dismiss them when they tried to tell them. Even despite having heard the same from Esker– could they not have radioed them to hear their side of the story? Did they simply think that little of the possible truth behind Gabbro's clear distress?
Nova never doubted them, not once. Sure, it sounded insane. It sounded like they'd had one too many sips of sap wine, but they hadn't. Gabbro had never been one to fly their ship inebriated, even despite them doing some otherwise considerably reckless things in their voyages.
Still, everything they told them, everything they knew; only created more questions and more confusion.
At the time, Gabbro had tried to brush it off as a trick of deep space frequencies- or rather, that's what their final word on the matter was to Hal and Nova. Maybe they wanted them to feel less distressed. Maybe they were trying to make themself believe it. Regardless, they'd finally budged; so many hundreds of moons later. All it took was the end of the universe and Nova coming of age and facing their fears to explore space. No biggie.
It came up in conversation, when Nova expressed their confusion after having heard Feldspar's flute coming from inside of what appeared to be a dark bramble seed, located on Timber Hearth. It was… unnerving. Both to hear that, and to see a Bramble seed on their planet. Tektite was posted in front of it, intent on chopping down a seed; something they'd never have the chance to do. Whatever that seed could have potentially done would simply… never happen. Even if their sun hadn't reached the end of its life cycle, what would have become of Timber Hearth with that ill omened thing making its home there? It seemed like every probable odd had stacked up against them. They didn't have the luxury of entertaining the 'what ifs' of the world not ending, because even if it hadn't been; Timber Hearth could very well have been on the course to becoming the same kind of monstrosity that was Dark Bramble.
Nova shook their head roughly, hoping the motion would shake the nasty thoughts out with it. As if that was even possible. They glared at the ground- at nothing in particular- prodding at it with the stick they held.
"Something bothering you there, buddy?"
They didn't bother to spare Gabbro a glance. They were grateful it was relatively difficult to read expressions through the visor of their helmet, otherwise they'd definitely know they were in a mood.
"Just… I- I don't know. It's no-nothing. Probably. Not even important."
"Hm. Don't you think if it wasn't important, I would have never asked in the first place? Tell me what's bothering you, time buddy."
Nova huffed a little. They weren't going to let it go that simply, of course. Sometimes, they almost wished they didn't care so much. It was embarrassing.
"Just… do you remember what ha-happened that one night? When um. Hal and I… heard you. And Slate."
Gabbro tilted their head ever so slightly to the side, "You mean when you two were snooping on Slate and I?"
Nova grimaced. "That is um. An inc-credibly unfortunate way of putting it."
Gabbro chuckled at that, and Nova might have elbowed them if they were close enough to do so.
"Well, I'm afraid I can't put everything lightly, buddy," they laughed, "What's got you askin' about that, though? That feels like ages ago now, honestly."
Ages ago… maybe it did. Nova couldn't say if it was the time loop, or if it would've felt that way regardless.
"Um. It… I don't kn-know. It'll sound crazy," the muttered under their breath, punctuated with another jab in the sand with their stick.
Another laugh, and, well. Maybe that one was more warranted, that time.
"Buddy-" they laughed, nearly wheezing from how hard they were laughing at that point, "I think you might have forgotten who you're talking to."
"I-" they choked, flustered by their reaction, "I he-heard it too."
Only that was what seemed to be enough to stop their laughing, quite literally in the middle of a full-belly laugh; even. They felt horrible. Almost wished they'd just start laughing at them again. Anything but the silence that followed.
"Did you, now?"
A simple question, really- uncomfortably so. Gabbro had never really given them any reason to be uncomfortable prior to that- and it wasn't necessarily their fault, but that didn't change the fact that Nova was very uncomfortable. They swallowed down the knot forming in their throat and pulled their knees up to their chest, hugging onto them.
"I… I'm… s-sorry. I know, it's- I- just fo-forget it," they whispered, voice strained.
Gabbro always kept the light mood, even in the face of, well. Everything they were stuck with. Impending death. Sudden, catastrophic cyclones throwing their island into the stratosphere. The like. This was… different, though. They knew. How much they looked up to Feldspar, and what they meant to them. Feldspar was one of the most pivotal influences to Gabbro growing up- or so they told them. It certainly showed, too. Nova didn't doubt it. They looked up to Feldspar, too. Even if they hadn't known them as long as they did.
They heard Gabbro sigh, followed by the sound of their boots landing in the land. They didn't even want to look at them as they approached and sat in front of them, but it wasn't exactly possible to hide their face more than it was with their helmet on.
"Hey-" they started, and Nova just shook their head back and forth hard, not even wanting to listen or acknowledge them, "Buddy, you're overthinking this. Nothing is wrong, okay? A little shocked, sure. But I'd certainly like to hear what it is you did hear, if you're so inclined as to tell me."
"It's-" they rasped, their voice coming out watery and strained. They stopped. Took a deep breath in, and let it out slowly. Tried again, "Strange. I don't… understand it. At all. I was ju-just… I was trying to locate the other travelers with my signalscope, and then I… heard it. Them. Their harmonica. On Timber Hearth."
"On Timber Hearth, huh?" they mused- and already, they sounded much more composed, but Nova wouldn't forget the small moment before they were able to regain their composure- "Didn't find them, though? Where exactly did it come from?"
"It was… it came from inside a Bramble seed. From… Dark Bramble. Tektite was there. I… it was… kind of frightening. It looked like it was already tr-trying to plant its roots. But- I did. I heard it. Inside."
Gabbro looked genuinely puzzled, and ever so vaguely sad, "Well you weren't lying- it does sound crazy. I believe you though, buddy. Of course I do."
Nova sniffled and wiped their stray tears away, "I don't understand. I used my signalscope– and… saw something. Not what I should have seen. There was… a fossil. Ju-Just like the one on Ember Twin."
"Y'know, considering the nonsense that always seems to be going on with Dark Bramble– I can't say this is exactly improbable. Or entirely shocking."
"Yeah…. I guess. I just… ha-have a weird feeling. About this. Hearing their harmonica come from it… seeing that fossil…" they trailed off, unsure of how to articulate their racing thoughts and theories.
"Buddy, you aren't trying to tell me what I think you are; right?"
Gabbro sounding genuinely shocked with a slight hint of concern certainly did not make Nova feel any better. Their heart could have very well stopped from the way it felt.
"I, uh… if you're thinking im trying to tell you I'm finally willing to try your horrible burnt marshmallows- no. Nope. You would be incorrect th-there."
Gabbro rolled their eyes, though they were grinning a little; all the same, "Buddy. I mean, sure, you've got the time loop and all on your side- but, well, you haven't exactly left it a secret how you feel about Dark Bramble."
"Um… it's. Fine. It is. I… I need t-to do this. It's- driving me crazy, Gabbro."
Gabbro hummed, "Well, I don't intend on talking you out of this. I don't doubt your capabilities, buddy- or your theories. I'm sure if anyone can make any sense of this, it's you."
Nova's face felt incredibly hot, and they certainly could not look them in the eye any longer than that. They picked their stick back up and poked at the sand once again.
"I'll, uh. Report ba-back to you. You know. About the horrors. Or whatever. The loop after the next one."
Gabbro let out a full belly laugh, and they certainly didn't get butterflies in their stomach– absolutely not. Nova spent the rest of the loop talking about nothing in particular with them– anything but what was to come. Better savor the moment of calmness while they could. Or something.
*
Nova was trembling, staring down the murky nothingness that was the open center of Dark Bramble. Their signalscope was hooked up to their main console, playing the frequency over the speakers– Feldspar's harmonica.
They could remember how comforting of a sound it always had been for them- just the same as all the other instruments the travelers had. Hearing that harmonica now, however many countless moons later, brought with it an uncomfortable, haunting feeling of dread. It wasn't right. Something wasn't adding up, and they knew they couldn't rest until they got to the bottom of it.
So, there they were: piloting slowly, so painfully slowly, into the depths of Dark Bramble.
Maybe they could have used just a little amount of thrust, something to guide them along a little faster- but they wouldn't do it. Absolutely not. Under no circumstances. They would simply float their way through that awful place. They were afraid that, at that rate, they might not even make it halfway close to wherever the hell that signal was leading them- still didn't matter, though. They were shaking like a leaf, and they bit their lip hard; so hard they tasted blood. Stars, what were they even thinking, what in Timber Hearth's name–
A bone-chilling, paralyzing sound snapped them out of their head and their thoughts– one unlike anything they had ever heard in their life. They knew what it was, of course they did. Only one possibility– or so they prayed there was only one monstrosity in there with them.
They shook even harder, so hard their teeth chattered; so they bit down hard to stop it. Surely they couldn't hear sound from inside their ship, right?
Another scream, and another– and Nova was in tears, trying so hard to stop their shaking. They just couldn't- they couldn't calm down. Bad, bad, something bad was going to happen, they needed to calm down, they needed help–
More instinctively than anything else, Nova scrambled carelessly to turn on their radio; and in the process, and their haste– they bumped the control to the thrusters on their ship.
It was ever so brief of a moment, and Nova shrieked in terror; hastily turning them back off– but it was already much too late. They heard it, and not just one– they heard several. Terrifying, horrible, loud screeches came at them.
They screamed and threw their thrusters on to full power, hardly thinking; hardly using any amount of common sense. They were guided by fight or flight, and that alone. There was no logic that came in hand with those instincts.
Something crashed into the back of their ship, and it sent them spiraling; their ship going so fast it made them nauseous.
"Fuck!" they sobbed, desperately fighting to gain control back of their ship; to slow down, to not lose that damn signal.
Shockingly, that shove did one thing they'd later understand to be a blessing in disguise- it made their ship go much faster than it was built to be intentionally capable of even achieving. Which was… saying a lot. You know. Slate and all of their horror wonder.
At the very least, they managed to gain relative control of the ship- at least enough to guide them terrifyingly fast through the murky depths of Dark Bramble.
It never seemed to end- every time they thought they reached the source of the signal, it started again. The distance to reach it recalculated. It felt like they were in that chase for ages, like they were having some kind of horrifically realistic night terror.
That was until it did end– the anglerfish stopped pursuing them, suddenly, and before they could gather themself or try to understand why that could have possibly been- they saw something incoming fast. Far too much so to react, or to steer clear; or do anything but shriek in further terror.
The anglerfish fossil had come into view, and just as quickly as they had seen it; they were crashing into it. The direct impact forcefully stopped the momentum of the ship, while it simultaneously sent Nova's head crashing directly into the console.
They sobbed, their voice strained, hardly even coming out– stars, why hadn't they put their suit on?
They tried to ignore the way their entire dash was covered in blood, tried to ignore the way the entire world spun and their vision tunneled. They got up on unsteady legs and stumbled over to where their suit waited for them, and somehow; they managed to put it on.
The console was effectively out of commission, and if it being literally coated in their blood, and the way they felt wasn't enough indication– they'd most certainly had some kind of brain injury or concussion. They collapsed back in their seat, and it was only then that it hit them– the signalscope finally showed the signal as close. And when they focused, they realized they could actually hear it coming from outside. They gasped and equipped their signalscope, which miraculously managed to work enough to do what it needed to– and sent it out.
Each picture made it clearer, and clearer, until they saw it– not just anything, it was them!
They gasped, and once again, failed to use any amount of logical thinking. They'd opened the hatch to their ship, and found the small open area of the anglerfish fossil was directly underneath them. A relatively large distance down.
Again, it should have been clear- it should have registered in their mind that their gravity crystal was literally shattered, and there was a distinct and obvious lack of gravitational field to guide them to a safe landing.
And so, there they were– falling out of the open hatch of their ship. They shrieked again, and it was far too quick of a decent for their jetpack to do anything to help– and their eyes widened when they saw it, but it was already happening as soon as they had, again– as they fell, their leg caught on a tree branch that protruded from a tree. The momentum and weight was enough that it pierced directly through their calf, and the continued momentum snapped it from the tree; and so they fell onto the ground, face first… at least they thought to put their suit on before that. They did not want to think about how that would have ended otherwise. They heard their visor crack, and all they could manage to do was roll onto their back; staring up in a daze. They weren't even screaming anymore- they were dead silent, in fact. They could hardly think, let alone do anything else.
Then, they saw them; standing above them, the ever-familiar suit and helmet– Feldspar. They blinked a few times. An injury bad enough to snap them out of their sheer terror, but also apparently make their brain fail to process anything quite properly.
"Well, would you look at who the anglerfish dragged in!" Feldspar remarked, a clear, honest surprise in their voice, as if they should have been the surprised one in that situation, "I can't say I ever expected you'd get up the nerves to go on your first voyage, hatchling- but here you are! You know, that's my bad for ever thinking anything less."
Needless to say, there were just about at least a dozen reasons that Nova was incredibly disorderiented– surely Feldspar hadn't failed to notice the tree branch literally sticking through their leg? They were shocked they were even capable of following what they said, much less getting a reply out.
"I- um. Yes. No-Not exactly what I would focus on ri-right now."
There was an extended silence that followed, and they couldn't really determine if Feldspar had simply somehow not heard them, or if they were pondering their response, or–
"Oh! Stars above, look at you. Managed to make almost as dramatic of a landing as I did there, hatchling," they belted out as they stood and approached Nova, kneeling by their side.
Their order of reactions and responses made no sense to Nova, but they also couldn't exactly bother to try to decipher them. What was even happening? They had to be dreaming. Maybe they'd blacked out from a fall… or something.
"Well, I can't say it's looking too great, uh–" they paused for a moment, and somehow, they were just the same as Nova remembered them to be, "No, don't you worry about that. I'm sure old Feldspar can fix you right up."
They did try not to be too whiny when they scooped them up, but they couldn't exactly not yelp from the horrible, shooting pain that was sent through their leg from the action. Quite frankly, they couldn't determine what hurt worse– their face with undoubtedly at least a few broken bones, or the branch stuck through their calf. Actually, there wasn't really any part of them that didn't hurt.
"I know, I know. Believe it or not, I've been in this same situation a few times myself."
"It's… not exactly difficult to believe," Nova muttered under their breath, more to themself to Feldspar; though their following chuckle made it clear they heard anyway.
They sat them down, propped up against a tree across from where they had been sitting. They kneeled by their side again, and looked up at them for a moment, their hands hovering over injured leg.
"This probably isn't going to feel great, hatchling."
Nova nodded hastily, already screwing their eyes shut. They did not do well seeing their own blood and injuries- certainly not one as gruesome as that was. The blood on the console was enough to make them nauseous. They had no doubt the image of that branch sticking through their leg would be permanently seared in their mind.
"Just– ge-get it over with. Please."
Feldspar nodded simply, and maybe it was better that way; but they offered Nova no other indication of when they were going to pull the branch out. No countdown, nothing. They heard the snapping of one end of it, presumably they cut off the sharp and jagged end– then just as soon they'd heard that, out came the stick. The pain was far worse than they prepared themself for, and the only way they could think to describe it was blinding.
Nova's ears were ringing and they opened their eyes on nothing more than instinct, but they were unseeing. Their vision was full of black and red spots, and their head spun almost violently. Their body felt heavy and light all at once. Whether they were screaming or completely silent, they also weren't really sure. They couldn't quite register much of anything that was happening. All they knew was that they weren't seeing much of anything, but stars, they felt everything.
The next thing they were fully aware of was the feeling of air- not humid, not dry- well, they couldn't really describe it. From appearance alone, Nova had previously thought the inside of Dark Bramble would be incredibly humid– what with the thick fog that covered the entirety of it. It wasn't warm, and it wasn't cold. It just… was. Empty, and silent in the way that made your ears ring. The only noises to come were from the occasional screams of the anglerfish. Both equally dreadful.
Apparently Feldspar had taken their helmet off, because they felt something on their face- the texture of cloth, and it hurt, but they made no noise. They must have taken to cleaning the blood off their face. They blinked hard a few times, trying to clear the spots from their vision.
When it finally started to clear, Nova glanced over at them, to find them not looking back; but instead focused on their leg. Huh. They didn't even feel it- but they seemed to be cleaning the wound… to the best of their ability. Frankly, they were shocked they had anything of use to actually do that with. If not for the obvious situation at hand, they would have felt guilty for them to be wasting no doubt precious materials on them. A stupid injury caused from a stupid panic instinct.
… How was Feldspar still even alive, anyway?
"Well, it wasn't easy at first," they'd informed them, out of nowhere- until Nova realized it wasn't out of nowhere, that they had, in fact, spoken their thoughts aloud and not thought them, oh stars above- how long had they been doing that for- "I'll tell you what, though, hatchling- it's not all too enjoyable living off of my makeshift survival diet for, ah– who knows how long it was. Well, astronauts make do. I'm pretty lucky these saplings are hardy enough to thrive without any sunlight."
"I just… don't un- understand," Nova mumbled mindlessly, weakly, "It's been… s-so long. We all thought you- we thought you were– ah, stars-"
"Dead, huh?" Feldspar supplied, and Nova really did appreciate their casual attempts at helping them when their brain failed to let them get the right word out, "Can't blame any of you for thinking that. I figured you would have come to that conclusion, more or less. No other way, really. Life goes on."
Despite their disorientation, something about that, something about them saying 'life goes on' rekindled an ache they hadn't felt in longer than they could remember. They remembered the way life changed, that day that the older Hearthians finally made the decision to tell everyone that Feldspar was gone. That they weren't ever coming back- that they were dead.
As if that wasn't difficult enough, as if it wasn't painful for them as it was, painful for them to watch their best friend become a shell of who they used to be for an unbearable amount of time– they had to see even Gabbro change. Nova knew they did their best to try to be strong- if not for themself, for the others, for the younger Hearthians who looked up to them, who needed a shoulder to cry on- but they weren't stupid. The way they changed wasn't lost on them. In time, they became their old self, sure, but out of everyone else; it devastated them to see Gabbro so… desolate. The one who'd always managed to remain calm and relaxed in even the most dreadful of situations- including seeing Nova lying in the dirt with their arm severed below the elbow- and that really solidified it for them- Feldspar really was dead.
And yet. There they were. Alive and well… from what they could see on an incredibly surface level, in any case. Not dead, though.
"But- it- life didn't ju-just… go on," they choked out, and they really hadn't intended for it to come out so weak, or for their blasted voice to crack, "Everything changed. Nothing… was ever th-the same. Gossan, Slate, Hornfels…"
That was enough to make Feldspar pause for a moment, and if not for the helmet, Nova didn't doubt they'd be able to see the array of thoughts in their eyes. They could practically feel them, as it was. It was better that way, they told themself. They never handled it well- any strong emotions around them were enough to influence them– in whichever way they went. All extreme highs and lows, Nova had a tendency to get swept away in the current of their feelings– whether they liked it or not. And more often than not, they felt themself drowning in them.
They hastily wiped their tears away- oh, stars that was painful- and focused their gaze elsewhere. What a humiliating reaction to have after seeing Feldspar alive for the first time in- how long had it even been?
"Hm. Maybe that was an insensitive way to put it," they settled on, finally filling the silence, for what little comfort it brought with it, "I don't mean to downplay the grief I brought upon Timber Hearth, hatchling– but hey! Look at you! Out and about in space. You looked your deepest fear in all four of its eyes– and you dove right in!"
Despite it all, the praise lit the smallest of flames in Nova's chest. A warmth that spread and cradled their heart. Just what they had always wanted to hear- especially from them.
"Sure, you're a little scraped up," Feldspar continued, clueless to the hundreds of thoughts and more racing through Nova's head as they monologued, "But you're here. And that's more than enough to tell me everyone back on Timber Hearth is doing just fine. That's what I meant by saying life goes on– more or less. We make do, don't we?"
"I… yeah. I… guess so."
Feldspar patted their good leg, nodding with a glance back up at them.
"Well, that's about as good as I can manage. Thankfully, though, your ship looks intact enough. You should be able to maneuver your way back out of here, no problem."
Nova looked at them, and they felt the odd yearning to see their face. It had been so long. They had the kind of smile that always brought comfort with it. Frankly, something about their suit and helmet was… intimidating. Very not Feldspar of a quality, for those who really knew them. Maybe Nova was just weird. Probably.
Then it actually hit them, what they had just said; just implied, stars they must have had a concussion or something-
"Wh- What do you mean I can? Wh- I- you want to come back with me, do-don't you?"
Foolish question. Meaningless question- though… arguably less meaningless than most things had felt recently. It did matter- because why wouldn't Feldspar immediately want to take the chance to go back to Timber Hearth-
Feldspar sighed a little, and they sounded weary, and that was so strange. They sat across from Nova, though only a few paces away from them.
"Of course I want to go home. I'll have you know, you lot aren't the only ones missing someone," they informed them, and although lighthearted in tone of voice, it carried with it an unmistakable weight, "How do I say this– Well, it got to be a lot; even for old Feldspar. You know, being the best that ever was. Sure, I miss Timber Hearth to pieces– I'd just be lying if I said it hasn't been nice having a small break, you know? Some peace and quiet- er, of sorts."
"A small break? It's been- st-stars, it's been so long-"
"Now that you say it, you do look more grown than you were than I last saw you," Feldspar agreed with a decisive nod of their head.
Nova just watched them for a moment in stunned silence. How were they so casual? Had they not realized how long it had been?
"How- How long do yo-you think it's been?"
"A great question, hatchling. Thing is, I'm not so sure I can answer it. There's something real strange about time here in Dark Bramble, I've come to learn– you know, apart from the anglerfish and whatnot. I have a strong hypothesis that time doesn't quite abide by the same laws it does outside."
Maybe they were right- and a quick glance down at the simple stopwatch attached to their suit just about confirmed it. It had stopped at exactly four minutes and twenty-four seconds. Which was… just about the amount of time it took to reach the surface of Dark Bramble. So much for having any way to know when they would run out of time. They couldn't even say how long it felt for them, having navigated through the depths of Dark Bramble and crash land into Feldspar's camp. It certainly couldn't have been a quick trip, but they couldn't say whether it felt long or quick. Frankly, their head felt nearly as foggy as it was inside of there. It was more than just the concussion at play there. Maybe it wasn't such a mystery why Feldspar was so out of it– why their reactions seemed so disordered, why they were so strangely calm even despite finally having some company.
"It's… everyone misses you. Life hasn't ever been the same. Sl-Slate, Gossan… Gabbro," they whispered only their name, bringing back with it that guilt that gnawed at their heart.
"Well, it's a good thing you braved the depths of Dark Bramble and found me then; isn't it?" Feldspar asked gently, and they nodded their head meekly, "Only thing is, we'll need to let you have a moment or a few to rest. Can't have you piloting a ship with a concussion, now, can we?"
"Um… couldn't you ju-just fly us back?"
Feldspar laughed, and though it clearly wasn't at them, their cheeks still felt hot.
"Well I could," they agreed, before throwing a quick glance up at Nova's ship, "I'm pretty sure there's been a lot of changes to these old things since my ship was built, though. Can't know what chaos Slate threw together well enough to reliably pilot us out of a place as treacherous as this."
Feldspar being so careful, actually deciding against doing something because of the possible danger, was strange- though, no doubt, it was no different than them making a point of not involving any hatchlings in too much trouble. Just a healthy amount– give them a small taste of outer space life, as they had always put it.
Nova still might have been surprised at Feldspar's hesitancy if not for the obvious risk of, well. Dying. In any number of increasingly horrific ways. Sure, they wouldn't really be dead. Time loop and all. Feldspar didn't know that, though- and frankly, Nova wasn't keen on the thought of being eaten by one of those nightmare inducing creatures. Or them having to believe they're about to die due to Nova's failure to safely pilot them out. In fact, if it weren't for the loop; they would have just ended up stuck in Dark Bramble forevermore with Feldspar- because they certainly didn't even want to consider braving the journey out. They couldn't say if they even had a clear shot path of getting out- the path could have been entirely different, for all they knew. They shook their head back and forth in semi-annoyance at their own pointless thoughts.
"All good over there, hatchling?"
Oh. Right. They weren't alone. They felt their face flush again. Of course they just had to go and break their helmet. Their one line of defense to keep others from seeing their vulnerability. A curse, all of it.
"Um… yep. Just fine," they muttered, embarrassed, before something else rather suddenly came to mind, "Wait… how have you stayed… alive? All this time? Wh-Wha- you couldn't have possibly had enough rations to last you this long," they mumbled, more a jumble of scattered thoughts and realizations than anything else. They really must have been concussed. When they actually thought about it, their surroundings- Feldspar included- did seem to be spinning; ever so slightly.
"Another great question!" Feldspar remarked, as they turned and picked something up in one hand- a small cloth pouch- and they opened it, "Unfortunately, I could only manage to salvage a few days worth of rations from my ship- safely, in any case. Better safe than sorry- I wasn't intending on going up in flames with my poor old ship in an electrical fire."
"What- happened, anyway? I- I didn't see a lo-lot- but- um. Didn't look great."
Feldspar snorted a little in amusement.
"That's a very kind way of putting it. I'm sure my stay in Dark Bramble would have been much less permanent, had there been any way to salvage my ship. Anywho–" they started, scooting closer to Nova and passing them the pouch, and Nova peered in to find an accumulation of small nuts and seeds, each one looking vaguely unripe, "I can say I'm only still around and kicking thanks to these little saplings-" they punctuated by patting the tree to the side of them, "Well- not so little anymore, huh? Just like you, hatchling!"
Nova blinked a few times, taking in all of that information. That still… didn't fully answer the question.
"But… they take like… at least a- a week to mature enough to grow nuts and seeds. You said you could only salvage a few days worth of rations." They decided to forgo mentioning the obvious unripened state of them. They more or less were picking up where that was going, and they didn't like the thought. It made sense, though. Of course it did.
"So I did," they agreed, their voice taking on a more serious tone, and it made Nova nervous and guilty, for some reason- "I tried to halve each ration to spread them out more, eat only when the stomach pains got real nasty– and see, this is why I say I don't know how long I've been here for. Time is strange, here, hatchling. The only measure I had was the progress the saplings made, and by technical terms of when they should have matured, I'd long since run out of my rations. Got desperate enough at one point to waste the measly amount of fuel left in my tank to fly back to my ship– there was nothing left to be salvaged, though. All burnt to a crisp. Actually, charcoal might be a more apt description. I might not be Gabbro, but I could theoretically stomach burnt rations- but I do believe there's a hard line in the sand not to be crossed. You know, with a sign in front of it that says, 'you're probably going to shatter all your teeth if you even try to eat me'."
Nova wasn't sure they even wanted to know the answer anymore. There were only so many possibilities, certainly– but none of them could have possibly been good. They'd brought it this far, though, hadn't they? They had to see it through. The guilt never stopped gnawing away at them.
"So… how? How are you- you…" they trailed off, not daring to even try to get that question out. Foolish, so foolish, how after dying so many times, the thought of death still left such a bitter, burning taste in their mouth, even worse than sap wine–
"Mm. Well, despite it all, I had just enough energy left to still scavenge around this little area- not that I already hadn't, but the primal instinct and desperation that comes with imminent starvation is something else. Thankfully- and I say that incredibly begrudgingly, there is a rather oddly large amount of critters here in Dark Bramble. Er– apart from the anglerfish. Centipedes, and the like. Not sure what their diet is– couldn't exactly ask them myself."
Still, they came off so casually. Despite that, despite it all; Nova did not fail to catch onto their smaller tells of pain, of grief, of despair. They began to wonder how well they truly knew Feldspar– clearly not nearly as much as they'd once believed. That wasn't so surprising, though, was it? After all, they were merely a hatchling when they'd known them- really a hatchling. There was only so much the older Hearthians willingly told the tadpoles and hatchlings– not out of cruelty, but distinctly the lack of it. Nova was beginning to realize- the lengths they went to to provide them an adolescence as free of the grief and hurt that came with the reality of life as they could manage. They also knew that the amount of grief and hurt that was bestowed upon them in their first experience of outer space was not nearly the normal amount any of them ever should have experienced.
And there was the positively dreadful feeling that came with this newfound information– that Feldspar had been living off of centipedes and the like for who knows how long. And even after that, the upgrade from creepy crawlers to unripe seeds and nuts was… not much of an upgrade. Oh, stars above. Really, what had they expected? It still didn't quite explain it. It didn't seem feasible for any living being to survive off such a meager diet. Maybe it was all in Feldspar themself– maybe it came with the territory. You know, of being the first to venture further than any Hearthian ever had, to being the one to have to learn- and create- the tools of the trade, and of survival, all in their own. In theory, Gossan helped with that- but not in practice. Considering Gossan ever going into space with them.
What could they even say? They made Feldspar talk about something so dreadful, and for what? If it had been Nova, they would have simply chosen to starve to death. They couldn't stomach sap wine, no way they could even do something like that–
"Hey, don't cry, hatchling," Feldspar murmured, and they hadn't even realized they were crying, "It's okay now, isn't it? You're here to save my hide. I know it was probably difficult, but I-"
Nova just cried harder, because Feldspar didn't even know, they had no idea, none of it mattered, not at all–
And they hadn't really registered Feldspar moving closer, apparently, because they flinched just a little when they realized they were being pulled into a hug. They just wrapped their arms around them, crying into their chest; just like a child. Embarrassing, so embarrassing.
"I know, hatchling. It's a lot, isn't it? Can't imagine a place like this is doing anything good for your state of mind. That's okay, though. You aren't alone. Nothing is forever."
"I- I can't do an- anything–" they gasped brokenly, their heart in their throat, choking them with all its potent and unbearable feelings. It felt like thorns ran through it, like they pierced it just like that tree branch had pierced through their leg.
"Well, that is factually incorrect. Let's see– not only did you make your first expedition, you made it this far– and clearly you're the first. Nobody else ever found me here. And let's see– hm. Tell me something. How did that little translator tool of yours and Hal's come along?"
They drew in an unsteady breath, gathering themself, if only enough to respond, their voice wavering, "I- we- we- finished. We finished it. It… works. But- th-that- it's only thanks to you–"
"Oh, no, no," Feldspar scolded gently, like they'd known exactly where that was going, "None of that. My bringing the Nomai ruin to the museum most certainly does not devalue your hard work. That's not how any of this works, hatchling. Hearthians always help each other out– but you and Hal, that creation of yours– that's huge! I don't doubt you've got plenty of stories to tell me about what you've found thanks to your efforts."
They might have been shocked at how much Feldspar's words were helping them, but… well, it always had been that way; really. They were good at that. The older Hearthians would always talk about it- their innate knack for calming down restless and agitated tadpoles and hatchlings. They tried really hard to not let out another sob at having again reminded themself of just how much they really missed Feldspar. They'd never even though about that- in fact, they fought so desperately not to– that they'd apparently successfully buried all of those feelings. The hurt, the happiness, the grief, the comfort– all of it. Not just the bad ones. Why did they ever think that was a good idea? They sniffled a little.
"Oh–" Nova moved back just enough to look at Feldspar, "I… forgot. You weren't th-there."
Feldspar tipped their head slightly, questioning, and they again failed to realize they made no sense- "What's that, hatchling?"
Their face felt hot, and they fought the urge to pinch themself in their embarrassment.
"I… um. Lost an arm. Kind of. Like… ha-half of it. My right one," they explained, and in that instance they might have been the one being too casual.
"And here I was just about to praise everyone for raising you wonderfully– how did that come to be, then? Am I going to need to have a talk with Slate when we get back to Timber Hearth?" they sounded incredibly serious, but Nova still knew them well enough to know they were trying to not make it heavier than necessary. They still felt… a little unnerved at their rather head-on guess, regardless.
"Umm," they murmured, a little self consciously, pulling off their glove and rolling their sleeve up, reaching out to show Feldspar their prosthetic arm, "Th-That isn't, um. Necessary. Gossan already did. And Hornfels… and Gneiss… yep."
Feldspar picked their hand up in theirs, moving it around slightly; very closely observing it. It was a strange combination of Hearthian ingenuity and Nomai technology– their forearm was relatively simple, just made of the most sturdy wood the crater could supply– narrowing a little just before flaring back out where the prosthetic hand connected to it. The hand was the more complex piece of it– a sturdy, but lightweight metal, with painstakingly crafted digits for three fingers. A small chip of a Nomai crystal- the same one that went into their ship's computer- was embedded into the palm. It was… nothing incredibly special, but it was able to contract and relax the prosthetic digits, for whatever scenarios would call for them needing that. It was still a lengthy process of learning to function without a properly working right hand. At least they'd been ambidextrous.
"Well, as incredibly neat this little prosthetic is– I'm going to assume Slate didn't directly cause this?"
"Um… no. They didn't. Inadvertently. But um… there was. Ghost matter involved. And… a faulty jetpack."
They didn't particularly enjoy thinking about it- mostly because of their guilt at Gossan's resulting injuries it inadvertently caused when they rescued them. They always made a point of telling them it wasn't their fault, but that guilt only eased so much. Gossan seemed… a little insecure, for a time after the incident. As much as Nova utterly despised their sap wine, they would always be silently thankful to Porphy for them supporting Gossan through that. After a few months or so, they were back to their old self– corny flirting in broad daylight with Porphy and all. Hal would fake gag seeing it, but they knew they were happy to see Gossan back to normal; too.
"... Noted. Well, I suppose all's well that ends well- and hey, I guess you've got yourself a cool story of your own to tell now, huh? Just wait til you have this to add to it! You might just be as famous as I was, hatchling!"
Nova grimaced, and that earned them a hearty chuckle from Feldspar, "I'm just pulling your leg. Don't worry, I think everyone knows how much you value your quietude. You can just leave the theatrics for me, eh?"
"Yeah… um. That wo-would be ideal."
And of course, it hit them again. That light feeling left just as soon as it came, and their heart was in their throat.
"Gabbro…" they dropped their head as their tears fell, again staining the patched cloth of their suit, how did they always cry so easily-
"What- hatchling, did something happen to Gabbro, too?" Feldspar almost sounded panicked, and that was enough to shake them to their core; and their head shot back up.
"No-" they ground out hastily, and they tried to steady themself, but stars it was difficult, "Nothing… happened. Not like… th-that. They just… I… they changed. After you…"
Feldspar's shoulders dropped, and maybe it was just better they couldn't see the look in their eyes. They couldn't handle it.
"I can't really blame them for that one, hatchling. How are they doing these days?"
"They… they're doing alright," Nova whispered, and they were so nervous, how could they explain all of it while not explaining the loop, too- they just… couldn't do that to Feldspar.
"Better. They're better. They ju-just… miss you. A lot. I… I can tell. I always could."
"Hm," Feldspar murmured, and they were moving their hands up to their helmet, oh, of course they were, Gabbro got it from somewhere, didn't they?
When Feldspar's helmet was off and Nova could finally see them, after all that time; it all hit them at once– full force, a torrential downfall of subdued and buried memories and feelings. They looked older, their ears drooped far more than those of any of the Hearthians their age did. They could see it in their face, in their eyes. They had more scars, ones that they hadn't seen on them before. And regardless of it all, they were smiling.
"Wanna know something?" they asked casually, though it was more rhetorical, Nova knew they would carry on regardless, "I almost forgot how it feels to have that blasted helmet off. Gee, if I hadn't made a window to open to eat through myself, maybe I would've taken it off more."
They just didn't want to think about that. About how, no doubt, the reason their ears drooped so significantly was due to atrophy, from having their helmet on for so long. Nova wiped their tears, and to the best of their ability; offered them a shaky smile in return. That prompted Feldspar to actually grin, and it hurt, but it wasn't the worst kind of pain. It was tolerable. How long had it even been? When were they due for the loop to end? They hardly could think about that, or anything else; for that matter. Feldspar and Nova talked, for what felt like ages. Like time didn't exist, like nothing really existed. Like it never had. Time escaped them, as did most of just about everything else.
*
Gabbro hummed a mindless tune, repeating the same action they'd done for however many loops up to that point- setting their hammock up between their two little trees. Such a drag- the supernova really couldn't have waited just a few minutes longer, could it? Ah, well. What can you do?
They plopped down into the readied hammock, and did the same as they always had- played their flute. Their wonderful, trusty flute. It almost passed the time as much as meditating did- sometimes, naps were just ideal. Even less thinking going into it, well, actually, none going into it. Perfection.
Though, despite that, they felt a little bit of unease. They did mean what they said- they had absolutely no intention of talking Nova out of exploring Dark Bramble- but of course they had their own thoughts on the matter. Or rather, feelings. Fears, one might even say. One who wasn't them, mind you.
Nova wasn't exactly handling everything ideally- and Gabbro really couldn't blame them for that. It was as strange as strange got- almost so coincidental, they'd wondered sometimes if they were really just having an incredibly strange dream. Those happened. Except, there were too many moments that felt incredibly real for them to believe that. More of a silly thought (wish?) than anything else.
It was a bit of a predicament, most definitely. They didn't want Nova to traumatize themself even further- sure, they never minded doing what they could to comfort them; but that didn't exactly make it easy to see happen, in real time. Or pleasant, for that matter.
Of all possible ways for their expeditions into space to start, they would have never wished it had been the way it was. They weren't one to dwell on such things, but even they could acknowledge how unfair it was.
Nova did their best, just the same as they always had. Gabbro knew that, but they also saw that they didn't fully believe it themself. They knew they still carried the guilt over bringing up the topic of Feldspar, too.
Gabbro was okay- that wasn't a lie. They could acknowledge and accept when they were okay and when they were anything but. Like, when Hornfels first told them- looked them in their four eyes- and ripped the rug out from under them. They felt their world fall to pieces in real time- a bit like Brittle Hollow, in fact. Oh-so poetic of a way for them to put it, considering the grim truth of it all.
It wasn't easy- of course it wasn't. They didn't want it to be easy, they knew the grief that would come with the loss of one of the most important Hearthians in their life- if not the most important. Or, at least, they knew the idea. They knew how it went down, they'd seen it before in others- just, never had experienced it first-hand until then. And stars, was it a trial. More momentous than anything else they'd ever been through.
It was a significant amount of pressure, in truth- trying their best to be there for the tadpoles and the hatchlings. At least Gabbro had a better grasp on it, a better understanding. Most of them looked up to Feldspar, like a star in the night sky- but they weren't old enough to fully understand why they were gone. Frankly, sometimes, Gabbro didn't understand; either. Sometimes, they had to trek far from the crater- just so they could scream at the sky. Scream at Feldspar, wherever they were. Dead, or most presumably- who knew what came after that. All that mattered was that they were gone. They left them behind.
Yeah, they were angry. They were devastated. Angry at Feldspar, angry at everyone, angry at themself, angry at the brevity of life itself. Surprisingly, it was therapeutic in its own right to just scream about it for a while. Every few nights, taking a stroll for their overdue scream at the sky; until they got a better grasp and acceptance of their own grief. Back then, they would have said they felt betrayed. That somehow, somewhere, Feldspar ever did something that led to that. But Gabbro had long since accepted that there were simply endless ways it could have gone down. Sure, Feldspar was reckless, they were chaos incarnate- but they weren't careless. Not enough to willingly, or foolishly risk their life.
The truth was just that there were so many probable ways to die, out there in space. Even for the most careful of Hearthians– and if they hadn't known it already, they'd witnessed that with Nova, and all their recounted tales of horror and ways they accidentally went. It was simply just another difficult truth that came with life itself- whichever Hearthians would much rather forgo the absolutely unnecessary risks stayed in the crater, while the select handful of travelers embraced the risks with open arms; in the name of science and knowledge and exploration. That was everything to Gabbro– and on their countless expeditions, they understood Feldspar even more- of course, they always had; hadn't they? They'd just lost sight of it for some time.
Getting far too off track in their own mind- really, they were worried for Nova; quite plainly. They missed Feldspar, most definitely. Without a single doubt in their mind. Coming to terms with their grief- embracing it with open arms- did not mean they ever stopped thinking about them. A stark contrast to Nova, who seemed to cope by burying it… more or less. That more than showed as it was, but especially in their reaction to their own discovery.
It was certainly a mystery that never fully stopped itching, but the truth was simple- they weren't able to solve it themself. Nova found more than they ever had– and that Bramble seed was a newer occurrence as far as they knew- they'd made a fair amount of treks around the entirety of Timber Hearth. It spelled bad news, but nothing particularly worse than the literal end of the universe. Not something they'd sweat over as much as they would over the more specific detail of Nova hearing Feldspar's harmonica from the inside of it. Ah, well. They had no doubt there'd be plenty of story for them after the next loop, just as Nova told them. They could wait, easily- but for once, their nerves were enough to render their meditation ineffective. They couldn't even remember the last time they spent a loop entirely alone without napping it away. Maybe they weren't incredibly fond of being alone for such an extended period of time. Sure, they would acknowledge that too. They could try to ponder it- they had all the time in the world, after all. It was an uncharacteristically silent loop.