Chapter Text
"You've been deep in thought."
Aether started.
Columbina tilted her head toward him. Her wings followed the motions of her face, like a flower arrangement framing its captivating centerpiece. "I thought you'd have more things to share in our last moments alone," she added softly.
Right. There was so little time left, and he was wasting it with awkward silence. With Moon-Prayer Night over, the very next step was to send her home. Once they reached the hyperborean temple, it would be time for goodbyes.
Compared to the festive bustle of Nasha Town, the coastal edge of Hiisi Island was so quiet it felt jarring. The full moon hung low between two layers of clouds, illuminating the beachside and its lazy tides like a beacon that signaled the way home. For Columbina, it might as well have been one.
"I shouldn't let time pass me by like this."
She was right; these were their final minutes alone. Pretexting that she needed to prep for the ritual, Lauma had gone ahead of them, taking the Knave with her 'for safety'. Aether hadn't missed the way his friend's ever-benevolent gaze had lingered on him when she'd excused herself.
While he was grateful for the opportunity to chat with Columbina in private, there was a clear assumption among their friends regarding what kind of relationship the two of them actually had. They were wrong, of course. He merely wanted to say goodbye to a close friend, and…
And somehow, it hadn't set in for him yet. In less than an hour, Columbina would be gone for good. None of it had felt real since their fight against Rerir, yet at the same time he knew that the memories they'd created in the fleeting weeks that followed were priceless.
This moment would become a memory too. A memory of them walking side by side on the beach at midnight, occasionally bumping shoulders and smiling for no apparent reason. Aether wanted to be remembered by her exactly like this—as a collection of innocent moments and stolen glances. Not by the emptiness that would come afterward or the long silences that betrayed how much he was going to miss her.
"Poke." Columbina prodded his arm impatiently, waiting for his answer. Yes, he was wasting time. An alarming amount of it.
"Sorry about that. And yes, I do have things to say." He hesitated briefly. "It's just that Moon-Prayer Night was a thoughtful gift from everyone. If you have to keep a final memory of Nod-Krai, I'd rather it be that than me bringing down the mood."
She gave him a puzzled look—as much as her expression could convey with her eyes perpetually closed. "Bringing down the mood still counts as making conversation, no? Even if you end up saying something really sad, then at least you might see me cry for the first time. That would be a new memory." He picked up a bit of a teasing lilt to her voice. "Or are all memories not equally precious in your eyes?"
Aether smiled back, but the thought of making her cry did in fact mortify him. "Let's say I'm biased toward happy ones. I want to look back on the things you enjoyed best during your stay in Nod-Krai."
She thought for a moment. "Can I only pick one? Because I can think of a few: watching the Frostmoon Scions, talking to Sandrone until she threatened to pluck my feathers… and spooking you."
"I'm not sure that last one ever happened."
She chuckled. "Shall I refresh your memory?"
Columbina abruptly vanished from his peripheral vision.
Aether turned around, but she was nowhere to be seen. Her weightless feet hadn't left any footsteps in the sand, and—
"Looking for me?"
He nearly took a blind swing at the figure creeping over his shoulder but managed to stop himself. Columbina harmlessly nudged the knuckle of his fist. "Is your memory coming back now?"
"Regrettably, yes." He wiped the back of his hand on his shoulder, but the embarrassment remained. "Don't do that again. Actually, no. How do you keep doing that?"
She shrugged, resuming her walk beside him. "Kuuvahki. Or lack thereof. But it's just a trick; I doubt you'd find a use for it."
"So you're not going to teach me?" he tried.
"No. Because I learned that sometimes, frustrating your friends is more fun than helping them."
He blankly stared at her for a moment. "I'm only realizing this now, but you're actually pretty mean."
"And you're easily scared," she replied. "But I've known that for a while. You've been falling for the same trick since your first visits."
"I most certainly haven't."
"You most certainly have."
As they walked side-by-side, bickering about Aether's alleged fright, the scenery grew familiar once again. Even by taking the long way around, they were inevitably getting closer to the hyperborean temple, where Lauma and Arlecchino probably waited for them.
Content with winning the argument—she hadn't, but he also couldn't prove a negative—Columbina set to humming a victorious tune. Aether felt a lump in his throat as he recognized her lullaby. Yet another thing he experienced for the last time. He'd said so many goodbyes in his life, and he'd foolishly hoped that this one would be easy. It wasn't.
And he still wasn't ready.
"What was your impression of me back then?" he suddenly asked.
"During our first chats at Silvermoon Hall?"
He nodded.
Columbina actually slowed her steps as she considered the question. And maybe he'd only imagined it, but it seemed to him that she was dragging her feet just as much as he was.
"I hadn't seen anyone in a very long time," she finally said. "And all of a sudden, a very odd man barged into my sanctuary. He was tense around me at first, but unlike most people, it wasn't because he saw me as something to be worshipped, feared, or exploited. He just found me suspicious."
He had. The memory teased a fond smile out of him.
"What's even more odd is that he kept coming back. Always with a new idea, a question, or a joke. Luonnotar and the kuuhenki latched onto him very quickly, but he made it clear that the goal of his visits was to keep me company specifically. And that... baffled me. I didn't have anything to offer. I barely understood what it was like to have a friend."
She tucked a dark strand of hair behind her ear. "As foolish as it sounds, I found your friendship daunting at first, in the same way that seeing the sun after a long trek through a cavern can leave one blind. But I got over it. I let you get close, and you introduced me to fantastic new friends who were willing to laugh with me, and even fight for me."
"When you put it that way, I could've been less intense at times." Aether looked away. "I did charge headfirst into your life without giving it much thought."
"It doesn't make sense for a moon goddess to be so fond of the sun," she smiled. "But I wouldn't want the warmth of its glow to change anyway. Your being so intensely genuine is precisely what I like about you."
Her entire body shifted towards him. Only then did Aether realize that they had stopped walking. Columbina tilted her head to the side as she regarded him through closed eyes. The pale gleam of the moon—her moon—seemed to make her glow.
He knew that her "eyesight" was just a more advanced form of echolocation using pulses of kuuvahki. She could see the shape of his face, along with the details of his hair and clothing. She could probably even tell his emotions by the kuuvahki signature he was emitting in return. In practice, Columbina was never really blind to her surroundings.
But she had no idea what she was doing to his heart, did she?
"Some people…" His gaze dropped, traitorously, to her lips. "Like to think that opposites attract. Sometimes, two things come together despite going in trajectories that make them seem incompatible."
"Like the sun and moon," she eagerly concurred. "Always chasing after one another, but rarely allowed to be together."
"Well, they do have the downside of plunging the world into darkness whenever they meet…"
She inched closer to him. "But that also means no one gets to interrupt them. In the quiet minutes of an eclipse, it's just them and the precious bond they share, cut off from the rest of the world. They've… earned that kind of intimacy, don't you think?"
He tried to ignore the fact that they themselves were alone. He tried to ignore the pounding in his chest and the dull ache her words ignited in his stomach. He tried to forget about this being their final minutes together. He failed on all counts.
How stupid had he been? Could he call that false smile genuine? No. Now that he was mere moments away from parting with her, it all seemed so insignificant. He would miss her. So much. And he suddenly wanted her to know that.
She was here now. In the next moment, she would be gone, and he would've missed his chance. He could either drop all pretense now or spend the rest of his long life regretting not being honest with someone who truly mattered to him.
So Aether allowed himself to embrace her. He let his arms wrap around her shoulders, he let her head rest in the crook of his neck, and he let himself be happy when he felt her hand clinging to the back of his shirt in return.
He held her close, firmly, carefully. He let her gentle scent—sweetgrass and so many different kinds of festival candy—overwhelm him until his chest hurt. He finally admitted to himself that he didn't want her to go.
He wasn't above his own feelings. He would be genuine for her, even if it hurt. This was the least he could do.
"Columbina Hyposelenia."
She looked up at the use of her name. Surprise and delight mixed in her smile. "Yes?"
"I was looking for you," he confessed in a shuddered breath. "And for the longest time, I didn't even know it. Lately, there have been… many things, some related to my sister, that made me feel like I was slowly losing my footing. But meeting you has mended something in me. Protecting you gave me purpose. Being your friend opened my eyes to so many kind and beautiful things I'd previously taken for granted. I needed a guiding light and was blessed with the moon.
"Many people have prayed to the moon goddess to change their lives for the better, but Kuutar isn't the one who answered my prayers. You did, Columbina Hyposelenia. And it's important to me that you know it."
Moonlight quietly settled on them. Aether didn't let go but didn't pull her further in either. He only waited.
A strong pulse of kuuvahki swept over his skin. He immediately picked up mild panic from it. The power itself was gentle, but its release felt completely involuntary. Columbina barely moved in his arms, her gaze having sheepishly fallen to her feet. After a moment's hesitation, she hugged him back with all her strength.
"I'm glad I could make a difference in your life. Just like you made in mine." Her voice shook with emotion. Rather than fighting it, Columbina pressed her forehead harder into his chest. "You're not making these goodbyes any easier, you know?"
"I warned you."
"You're a bad friend, Aether."
"Yes, I am."
She shuddered slightly against him. Aether thought he'd heard a faint sob, but when Columbina pulled away, her eyes were dry. Mostly. Some tears had managed to squeeze past her shut eyelids.
"So I did make you cry after all." He gave her a pained smile.
She shrugged, turning away from him with a sniffle. "Don't feel too bad. I'll probably shed more tears in the very near future. You just won't be there to see them."
"So what, I should count myself lucky?" Aether tilted her face back toward him with a finger and brushed one obvious droplet from her cheek. Columbina's lips parted silently at the contact, but she let her cheek rest in his palm. "If anything, I'm glad we agree that farewells are the worst. Let's not do that anymore."
Columbina just looked at him. After an extended moment of staring, her smile widened. "I agree. Let's not. So if you find a way to come visit me on the moon one day, I suppose you'll have to leave without a word."
His face fell immediately. "I… Hm. I see now the flaws in my logic."
Columbina laughed. Not lightly between pressed lips, as she had before. She gripped his arm, and a fit of giggles wracked her shoulders. She covered her mouth with the back of her hand, but her laughter still slipped through until she managed to compose herself.
Aether didn't even smile back, too transfixed by the sight. She still had the hint of a grin on her face when she schooled her features, and she probably hadn't even realized.
She was ethereal. And just staring at the gentle curve of her lips with so much intent felt like a sin, even though she stared right back.
Aether summoned the last of his willpower to look away. He could not make this hurt for her more than it already would.
She still clung to his sleeve as they resumed walking—much slower. Somehow, he was a little less reluctant to accept her departure now. Her memory of him would be that of a dear friend who would forever be grateful to her for the times they'd spent together. And that was good enough, wasn't it? It had to be.
Even if it took time, he would have to try and convince himself that—
"Poke."
He was ready for her this time. Or so he thought. Columbina's pinky finger wiggled harmlessly in front of his face, like worm bait on a hook.
He frowned. "…And this is?"
"A promise. That you'll come visit me on the moon if you ever have the chance."
"So that I can leave quietly?"
"Only if traveling to the moon is realistic for you. Beyond that, you can do as you like. Whichever way you choose to say goodbye is less important to me than you being there in the first place."
That resonated with him. Not worrying about goodbyes, only looking forward to their next meeting. And he did want to see her again, missed opportunities or not.
Aether solemnly hooked his pinky with hers.
"I've explored some of the most hidden corners of the world and walked paths that no other living being has ever trod upon. I've seen gods fight and mortals change the course of history itself." He took her whole hand in a careful hold. "I'm fine with unrealistic, Columbina. An entire false sky couldn't keep me from seeing you."
Columbina's wings fluttered. A rosy tint flushed her cheeks as her thumb brushed his gloved palm. "Well, if it's a promise…"
"It's an oath. And there's no 'if'—I will come to you."
The frigid midnight breeze passed between them. Neither felt the chill. One walked with the blaze of foreign stars under each step; the other was as cool and inscrutable as the dark side of the moon.
But it was a purely human emotion that kept both of them warm in this moment.