Chapter Text
It was a common enough occurrence for the young lady to see something precious to her.
Drifting from place to place as if it was her home, she found things, and dragged them home.
And the much older woman adjusted her glasses, and stared at today's find -
Luckily brought in from among the push the and pull of the tides.
"Oh, there you are, what a lovely piece.
Now then, Aurita, can you tell me what's so special about this one?"
Aurita's arms fled behind her back, her head bowed low.
Beads of concentration and nervousness flickered across her brow.
It would've seemed a pleasant scene, for anyone who didn't understand...
Who lived anywhere, truly anywhere else.
Yet there were traces of something seeping in from the walls.
And it would flow upwards, save when it wouldn't, and skim across the tides.
Even hopping from flotsam to jetsam, you had to remember not to touch it, but...
You would inevitably touch it. Everyone always did.
But the young lady didn't seem to notice, and didn't seem to care.
Maybe she did, but her remaining companion could only hope she didn't.
It was a very quiet hope, that suited their sinking home.
"Aurita has decided... It's a perry apt!
That means, it's going to protect everyone!
You know why, don't you? Grandma?"
"Oh, hoho, I could guess. But I've always been so bad at that. Why don't you tell me, instead?"
The young lady drifted over to her, as easily through the house as if it were the sea.
She had the brightest smile, even though the older woman knew she'd meant to say - repeat -
A word, periapt. Excitedly, Aurita waved today's trinket in the air, and it shone a resplendent tone.
Hues of pearl nacre cast their patina over the surface, reflecting the smiling form of a person.
"Because, because, it's silver! And, grandma was the one who told me... Silver can ward off sad days!"
"Did she, I... Did she, Aurita? My, what an irresponsible grandmother you must have.
That's not liable to be, oh..."
Like every time she tried to gently steer the young lady away from dangerous fables, she'd had to stop herself.
Aurita was pouting, her previously nervous brow now tightly knit.
She didn't want to be corrected, or told that it wasn't possible.
In the kingdom of faerie tales, where only faeries ruled, things could be all right.
Yes, in a kingdom like that, even a figure eroded by salt water could gleam like silver.
"Oh, I hardly know. What am saying!
That's a very lovely little one. And you'll make sure to take good care of them, in kind?"
Aurita could be flighty, too.
She often forgot things, far more than the old woman had - at the moment, or in the past.
Interests came and went for her, like the tides; like the constantly-rising tides.
But she had already set the water-worn and smiling figure by other precious finds -
Even though some of them had other origins, surely.
"Yes! I can do it, Aurita can!.. So, I can keep them, right? Grandma?.."
"Of course, dear.
Did you really think I'd kick anyone out of the house that's a friend of yours..."
Fingers lined with time met their match.
She chased back words, always looking for the right time to make themselves heard.
No time had come, however, and Aurita had already said an exuberant 'ta!'
Rapidly shuffling back and forth, saying fond greetings to pieces of pewter and wood that couldn't respond.
The old woman removed her glasses, and stared.
Blurring light framed the fluttering blue and white tendrils together, as if they were as silver as the figure she'd found.
Aurita's soft face reformed as the glasses returned to the bridge of the older woman's nose.
Old hands wiped away new tears, only to be joined by the gentle rub of something like soft sleeves.
Even though she'd wanted to think of a convincing half-truth, Aurita's whisper made it unnecessary.
"I'm sorry you were crying... Because you were happy, right?"
"Very happy, dear.
Happy as anyone might ever be. Now!
Let's get you something to eat, a breeze looks as if it could blow you away!"
Not even this would last forever, but it was enough to believe that it might.
That - when the moon cast itself down upon the sea, the waves crested with gentle silver, and nothing else.