Skadi is used to have many names.
Monstrosity. Demon. Destrouer. Catastrophe.
After seeing her once spectators hardly had any doubt – she is different. Detached and aloof. Feral and headstrong. Dangerous. Not caring at all about things like comradeship and mutual aid. Why would she need a partner or a squad, when in her hands lies strength, that surpasses them all combined?
Spectators were not wrong. Just to lift a sword she wields as if it's just a feather, required at least two people. For a while the most open and friendly ones tried to handle the weapon by themselves, smiling, starting a conversation, but Skadi was relentless. Smiles, jokes and squabbles were minor, unimportant little things she could not afford.
Little to no one understood, and Skadi got tired of repeating – it's all for their own good.
Fate decided to leave her without companions.
…But she, despite all the names, remained loyal only to one of them. That's why today, instead of usual sword, in her hands lies… a bouquet of flowers.
Curious, surprised eyes from time to time looked her in the back, confusedly wondering about sight they witnessed.
She tried her best to ignore them. Was it so weird for her to carry flowers?
"It was", she laughs at herself silently, marveling at unexpected naivety. When was the last time she paid any attention to such a pointless thing? How much time has passed? The first memory that came to mind was her mother, with gentle, faint smile, laying a colorful wreath on the crown of her head.
Skadi did not paid much attention to the flowers then, she does not pay it now. The sole fact that they are in her hands right now is nothing more than a coincidence… And a result of the stubbornness of a certain gardener.
"Every single one of them has a meaning!", she said. "Color, aroma, number of petals, their form – everything has a goal and purpose. Flowers are not the most popular gift on Terra for nothing, you know!"
From the looks of it, the gardener greatly suffered from excessive love for her work, but Skadi could not bring herself to disagree. Bouquet was pretty. Soft tones reminded her of the waves of distant seas, gently shimmering from darkness of the depths to azure brightness of a shore waters. They… Made her yearn.
Skadi allowed herself a barely noticeable smile, carefully, afraid to rip off, sliding over the petals with her fingertips.
Was this the "magic, unreachable to any Art" gardener babbled about? Because it managed to wash away any resemblance of joy and fervor even from her face. Or was it the achievement of a story, Skadi had told her in passing?
A moment of sentimentality disappeared as accidentally as it appeared. Flowers were not meant for her and indeed had a meaning. A foolish one and, probably, absolutely pointless, but here they are, in her hands, and she herself in front of a door of a medical ward.
Another second, to gather her thoughts, and the door is no longer an obstacle, showing her all of its secrets.
They were… Even more dreary than memories of a distant days.
Pair of pinched eyes, as if just a moment away from a slumber, wandered her from head to toe, not showing a slightest bit of understanding. Thankfully, the latter arrived, even if somehow late, and with it came a smile on a face of exhausted woman.
"Skadi… I'm glad you've returned."
Her words, unnaturally stretched, exuded peace. It was deceptive.
"I never left," Skadi applied too much force and unwillingly slammed the door close, alerting everyone around of her presence. Loud slap made her wince slightly, but the patient remained unfazed, as if she had not noticed foreign sound at all."
"Never left…?" friendly smile wavered. "I remember… a mission. You've left alone… again. Am I wrong?"
"No. But that was quite a while ago. I have not participated in operations for two weeks now."
"Is that so…" the woman stretched out, putting her palm to her cheek in puzzlement. "…Then are you, perhaps, wounded? Have you come… for help?"
Wounded? What a shameless presumption. Skadi needed a few good seconds to remember last time she visited medical bay for its actual purpose. Even after receiving a wound or two she preferred not to bother medical staff without a very good reason.
Woman in front of her shared the same belief once.
Once. Not that long ago.
"I am not wounded, Specter."
Smile on a woman's face bloomed once more.
"That's very good. It saddens me to watch you suffer… Then, perhaps, you came to visit me? Today the kind Doctor said, that I'm not allowed to leave alone yet…"
Indeed. Letting her wander alone is too much of a reckless adventure. Even at better days she was followed by at least one of Rhodes Island's elite operatives. She did not know a thing.
"I was told that you wanted to see me."
Specter blinked a few times with a frozen expression on her face. Two seconds after, her eyebrows shifted down and mouth opened, as if she wanted to say something, but there was a lump in her throat. So close, yet so far, words danced at a tip of her tongue, but not a single one of them managed to shape itself into anything articulate until an insight striked akin to a lightning:
"Yes!" she jumps on her feet and sings, smiling as bright as the sun. "I wanted to see you! To tell you, to ask!"
A few moments she stands still, staring nowhere.
"But… but what? Something important… important…"
Woman's voice was getting quieter and quieter, until it turned in a barely noticeable whisper. Skadi tried to figure it out, but her efforts bared no fruit.
"Ah…" Specter whimpered in disappointment, sinking back onto her bed. "… I don't know. Forgive me."
"It is fine," an empty answer sounds and visitor's eyes closes for a few long moments.
It was not always like this…
Specter watches her with sorrow and condescension in her sight. She does not remember, does not understand why sadness and longing unavoidably overwhelm her with every fleeting glance. Perhaps she can not express herself with words and lingering emotions seem so familiar, but there is one conclusion she finds herself reaching over and over again – their misery is incomparable.
"…Sometimes I'm allowed to play a piano," - announce she spontaneously, giving up to fractured memories. "I remember… The motive. It's slow and melodic, just like lullaby. Where have I heard it, I wonder…"
With eyes alone woman travels across her chamber, looking for answer. She finds it in an unfamiliar object that stands out so brightly against the surrounding whiteness.
"Flowers. How very kind of you. I would have never thought of you as a flower person… What are they called?"
With immutable smile she gazed inside silent eyes of her visitor, until bouquet blocked her line of sight:
"I do not know," the lie jumps from her lips much easier, than she could have ever imagined. "I do not know anything about flowers. Except that they need water. Do you have a vase?"
A moment and realization of how stupid her question is finally reaches her mind.
Of course she does not have a vase.
"I do not know… Inside a nightstand, maybe?"
The effort was pointless, but Skadi made it nonetheless, hoping to find at least some container in which to draw water. There was none of it inside a nightstand. It was empty.
Soft humming comes from the side. A scrap of a melody, recognizable from the very first note. A song about the peace of the sea valleys and the majesty of their inhabitants.
A song about home.
The first tune is suddenly replaced by the second, taken out of context, but still inseparable from it. A tale of terrifying battles, undefeatable heroes and creatures, that were born with the oceans.
A barely noticeable crackle colored the picture, that appeared in front of Skadi's eyes.
The flower was split in half under enormous pressure from the woman holding it. On her face – a bloodthirsty grin, inside her eyes – an abyss. Not a single glim of light.
She will never crawl out of it.
She can do nothing to help. Only to watch as her hopes are split in half one after another.
Despair almost darts off her lips, but Skadi manages to hold her tongue in time – there were no more names. Only Specter. Only Skadi.
"…Specter," she gasped, feeling how all the walls and barriers she had so painstakingly built began to fall apart. "Specter!"
But the song does not stop, flowing angrily from note to note, only to start all over again, and Skadi finds no other option, but to sing herself.
About sunlight near the horizon, about laughter and dancing under bright moon. About crossroads of fates, about stars, leading our way. About blizzards and storms near their home. About heroes of old, about creatures from depths. About pain and of loss, about coldness of gulfs. About power of will and weakness of hearts.
It was a fairytale known to every one of her people. Skadi sang, eyes closed, remembering how her mother had once sung for her the same song. No matter how hard she tried, Skadi could never get her soft intonations right, but the words and the melody were firmly ingrained in her memory.
Song ended, leaving a weird feeling after itself. Instantaneous silence seemed so unreal, almost deafening, but least of all Skadi was bothered by a discomfort. A pair of astonished eyes, following her this whole time, captured her complete attention.
Bouquet of flowers, thinned, rested in dazed woman's arms. Slowly and carefully, she stroked the petals, not taking her eyes off her guest even for a moment.
Skadi did not known what to do next. Should she leave or should she wait for some kind of reaction? What does she even want to hear, expects to see? She despised herself for her harboring such foolish feelings, for hope, but hardly could do anything about them.
"I remembered," sounds unexpected statement, and Skadi almost jumps on one place. "Remembered what I wanted to say."
Specter smiles again. As soft and as gentle as she possibly could.
Skadi just wants to run away.
"Please, forget me not…"
There is so few miracles left in the world…
"…But who are you?"