Phos awoke. They still felt tired.
Being half-submerged in the sand probably didn't help matters. It seemed that the furrows they had made in the ground earlier had been filled in.
(In fury and desperation, they had attacked it, kicking and howling in their loneliness, and had fallen into it and terrible dreams alike when their energy ran dry.)
Their clothes- donned to alleviate the minor discomfort of their nakedness, despite there being no one to see it- felt heavier. Odd.
Rising to their feet, Phos saw that they wore a mantle of moss and lichen. It covered their clothes, healthy green and almost fluffy. None had the temerity to grow on their skin, poison that it was. Carefully, carefully, they rose to their feet.
They had destroyed enough. The moss could stay.
The moss fell away, of course. Cautious movements still wore away at it, its weight made threadbare clothes give in.
To escape the madness in their head, Phos looked after the plants.
Well, they tried. Their first issue was their hands, seeping with poison. (How fitting.)
They couldn't dream of mimicking Red Beryl's art. But they had time, and with it, they chipped, chipped, chipped away at the problem.
Some part of them knew that humans could gain mastery of a skill or even several in one of their lifetimes, as brief and fleeting as they were. Phos had at least a hundred.
Attempting to weave was some small distraction from their head screaming agony at them.
Even clumsy gloves could stop the mercury, thankfully.
They gained the moss unintentionally, but with work, they tried to make things grow on purpose. The school… had painful memories, but it was useful as a base, a place to grow.
The far side of the pond was thick with plants. Powder flowers, which they didn't need much of but grew anyways; resin trees, for when they wished to see the sea (when they wished to hide in the inky black); and some that were just pretty.
Butterflies came with the flowers. (Phos had nearly cried when one landed on them, only for its wings to grow heavy with mercury. It fell to the ground, pathetic.)
Trees were nice. Phos had the patience for them now, when their mind wasn't screaming at them.
They didn't like sleep. Hibernation was a special pain. Sleep would always come, but they delayed it as much as they could. They watched delicate flakes of snow settle on branches and saw the way they slowly dipped under the weight.
(An icicle hit them on the head once.)
Episodes of random lashing out happened, but they grew rarer with time. There were only so many times you could repair your garden before it got embarrassing. Even worse was the realization that embarrassment might have been shared with some watcher.
That thought evoked another fit of temper. Was someone watching? Was there some Lunarian up there, laughing at them?
In a fit of fury, they struck out their old (older?) eye, the one of shimmering pearl, and cast it into the sea. That was where pearls came from, right?
(Now they were alone. Truly alone with their thoughts, without even the hopeful thought of someone- who? Who would want to?- looking over their shoulder.)
Hopefully, they had something better to do than watch Phos' suffering.
The days stopped mattering. The trees had grown thick and sturdy, covering their lines of sight, but they had stopped caring. They wouldn't come. They could do better than Phos now, up there.
The empty socket wept alloy. Phos could have closed the gaps, but they left it.
Were the gaps really worth closing?
During their sleep, the gaps in their memory would be filled in. They didn't like it, an incessant deluge of knowledge, pounding like water upon stone, ignorance being worn away by the flood.
Their sleep grew longer. They lost track of time. Sometimes they'd fall asleep amidst the saplings only to awaken to trees. Maybe they could fell them, count the rings to get some sense of time… but it seemed a cruelty.
Time stopped mattering. The days bled into each other. Until.
One day, while meandering the island, looking for some plants to add to their garden, they saw it. A gemstone's glimmer.
They froze. And then they ran.
The Beach of Beginnings. A gemstone, half buried in the sand, mewling and crying.
Pulling them from the sand, Phos held them close, tight against their chest. They yelped, confused by just about everything.
They were lacking in luster, less transparent than Phos, yet their red was nostalgic. Somehow, Phos knew their name.
"Carnelian." How long had it been since Phos had used their voice? They laughed. "Little Carnelian."
Carrying Carnelian on their back, Phos couldn't help but constantly look up, afraid. At any moment, the sky could open up and Carnelian would be taken away.
(They'd be happier there, probably. They'd know how much of a monster Phos was. But Phos was jealous, and the sky was empty.)
Preparing Carnelian was tough. Phos had never done it before, never even saw it being done. Carnelian squirmed under Phos' ministrations, twitching and jerking minutely as fragments were chipped away. Each and every piece was swept into a box for safekeeping.
The work was clumsy, and the haircut ended up short and choppy. Phos liked the color red though, and the whole process was more enjoyable than it had any right to be. How long since Phos had felt truly proud like this? Well, there was the garden, of course, but compared to a Gem?
Dusting on a coat of powder was practically second nature, although the eyes were a trick. Phos finally slotted them in as the sun began to set, the warm orange light complimenting Carnelian's russet shade. For the first time in years, Phos looked someone else in the eyes.
Carnelian smiled broadly, let out a yawn, and practically collapsed into sleep. Phos smiled down at her.
(Phos wondered what it would be like, to gently press their lips against Carnelian's forehead.)
Carnelian followed after Sensei, weaving through the rows of the garden before reaching the shade of a great tree. Sensei sat, and Carnelian sat across from them, ready for… well, whatever they would be learning today.
When Carnelian was really lucky, Sensei told stories about their past. Sensei had a Sensei once, who had more than twenty fellow gems around… before they lost them all, somehow. That was the story Sensei would never tell, despite all Carnelian's pleading, all their offers to do chores… And at some point, Carnelian realized it made Sensei feel really sad, so they avoided it.
(The only other time Sensei got that sad was when they called Carnelian Cinnabar by accident.)
The first part of the morning was basically a lecture- Sensei jokingly called it Lapis mode before clamming up about who or what Lapis was- and then they'd usually put it into practice. Today, that meant gardening. Sensei really loved plants.
When the sun rose high above them, Sensei walked inside for a bit, and Carnelian continued to maintain the plants. Sensei liked growing them into patterns now. Mandalas and such, simplified versions of crystal structures…
"Carnelian. Come with me." Oh, they were back. Carnelian followed, not entirely sure what Sensei felt the need to do- they had been busy recently- but happy for the company regardless. They walked for quite a ways, covering most of the length of the island until they reached a point where the land ended. What did Sensei call it… a cliff? Yes, that sounded right.
Sensei pulled two long, thin packages from within their voluminous coat. "Catch." They tossed it to Carnelian, who managed to grab it without too much fumbling.
It was long and straight, of a material they didn't recognize, and there was a seam partway down its length, splitting it into two unequal parts. Sensei had a similar one.
"Sensei?"
Grabbing the shorter part of the blade and pulling, Sensei revealed a long, dark blade.
"You're going to learn how to fight."
It took weeks before Sensei even allowed sparring. Carnelian whined about having to learn forms and footwork and stuff- Sensei knew sooo much about it all!- but went along.
Sparring was done inside, where it would be much easier to find loose pieces upon shattering. (Worrying.)
And oh boy, did Carnelian shatter. Sensei would always put them back together, of course, but time and time again their pieces exploded across the room, bouncing off tiles and hiding in the smallest crannies.
Sensei had pieced their head together and was searching for the remnants of Carnelian's arm when they spoke.
"Sensei…?"
"Yes?"
"Why are you teaching me to fight?"
A pause. "To defend yourself."
"From what?"
Sensei frowned. "Someone who will take you away."
Was that why Sensei was alone? Their friends were stolen away?
"Did they take your friends?"
"Not… not quite."
Carnelian stayed silent, hoping Sensei might elaborate. Once the silence stretched overlong, just before Carnelian was going to break it…
"I left my friends. For them."
Carnelian gaped at Sensei. "You…?"
"I did. I thought it was right." They slotted a particularly large fragment into place. "No matter your choice, I want you to be strong enough to defend it. Even… even if you leave me."
Carnelian gasped. "I'd never-"
"You'd be happier." Sensei sighed.
"Would I?"
"There are so many gems there. Maybe even other chalcedonies."
"They're not Sensei."
Sensei smiled sadly.
Carnelian had taken to visiting the beach quite often. Going there more often didn't raise the chances of a gem or anything, but they liked to check.
Step one in the make Sensei happy plan was finding more gems. (That was like, the only step, admittedly.) They couldn't wander off for too long though, because that would also make Sensei sad…
Still, being alone was a terrible thing, and Carnelian certainly hoped that anyone new wouldn't have to wait too long.
Thankfully, Carnelian was there when the next one dropped down.
They were beautiful, shimmering and golden, long lines of reflected light up and down their body.
Well, there was only one thing to do. Carnelian picked them up.
Thousands of years were enough for erosion to take its toll. The island's shape waxed and waned on a timescale that was long, even for Phos.
(Thousands of years of quiet suffering could reshape the mind and temper as surely as wind and rain molded the rocks.)
The analytical part of their mind, the part inherited from Lapis, felt no small measure of pride. Forestry, farming, construction, even some limited breeding of animals… not to get a big head or anything, but it seemed that they had progressed even further than before, back when Phos was just Phos.
Perhaps part of that was thanks to peace, less of their time eaten up by Lunarian attacks and preparing for them. There were still patrols- an unfortunate bite into the gem's time for their hobbies and other duties- but they could suffer Sensei's eccentricities in this.
They had accrued quite the cast of gems. Perhaps none of them were as glorious as Dia or Padparadscha, but they were still family. (That, Phos thought, was a wonderful word.)
Phos wasn't supposed to have favorites. But Graphite? Graphite made that resolve waver. Of all of them, they were the softest. One to two on the Mohs scale.
(In their early days, they left fat streaks of themselves everywhere. It wasn't good for Phos' heart, even if it made tracking them down easy. If there wasn't so much carbon everywhere….)
Perhaps their carbon composition reminded Phos of Dia- both gems also possessed similar personalities- but above all, Graphite was a writer.
Where Phos could never bring herself to complete the encyclopedia all those centuries ago, Graphite took to it with ease. Their fiction was engaging, and Phos wondered how the island's sheltered baby dreamt of it all. (Reincarnation, perhaps… or maybe Graphite was just that creative.)
It filled the time, at least. And if they had anything, they had time. Years and years of it, crawling endlessly onward.
After Phos had suffered a significant chunk of their 'enlightenment', someone bothered to check.
Phos had come to understand Adamant a bit more, they thought. Why they steadfastly refused to pray. They liked this.
Way back in the beginning, they had lost track of time. They had no idea how much longer they had to go through this, but now… some part of Phos hoped it would last forever, hoped that only some tiny fraction of those ten thousand years had passed.
The prospect of being parted with the gems- their gems- made Phos feel anxious. They were certain going back to isolation would drive them mad.
Tiger's Eye was regaling Phos with their most recent undersea discoveries when the bell began to ring. Tiger's Eye shrieked when Sensei just seemed to melt, turning into a roiling, rolling ball of shimmering metal, which screamed down the hall, coat flapping loosely behind.
Two lefts, a right, tearing through the halls, Graphite leaping out of the way and papers flying in air, a few of them getting caught up in the metal….
Outdoors. A head and arms sprouted from the mass of metal, eyes beholding a sight they hadn't seen in thousands of years.
A black smear unfolded across the sky, a dark fractal that bloomed from the deepest recesses of Phos' past.
They weren't entirely sure what to expect. Would Phos just be sitting there, as they had left them all those ages ago?
Cinnabar had a book in their lap but had long since given up on reading it. Conversation had dried up as well, leaving them with nothing to do but wait and wonder what had become of… well, their friend seemed a strong word. For Cinnabar, at least. Still, they couldn't resist the urge to check in on Phos, even if the last time they had met was… less than pleasant.
There was something almost… magnetic about them. Phosphophyllite was in some small part iron, but Cinnabar knew that wasn't what made them so remarkable. Remarkable enough to lure Padpa and Antarcticite down as well.
Looking out, they spotted Phos immediately, just as terrible as they remembered, a great mass of metal thrashing around them.
They stood amid tidy rows of blossoming flowers, fat drops of mercury spelling certain death for the plants as they fell to the soil. Some things never changed-
A gemstone, lanky and wild-haired, ran to Phos' side. Phos told them something- an order to get back, maybe?- and stretched a viscous arm in front of them.
The gem scoffed and leapt behind Phos, pulling out a bow and arrows, tipped with mottled grey-black glass.
Cinnabar wasn't sure why they were getting caught up on random details- there were other gems in Phos' custody. That… that was…
Beside them, the others seemed equally cowed. They were some of the only ones who gave a damn, who begged and pleaded and conned to get their hands on a ship to just check…
As they gawked, more gems rushed over, despite Phos' obvious disapproval. A few of them drew swords- a red one with choppy hair, another with hair like flowing smoke- and others hefted pruning hooks or mowing scythes.
Stiff, organized resistance was worrying- but it was Phos' single eye, furious and terrified, that made Cinnabar tremble. That and the metal, creeping, creeping through the grass, sneaking between rows of plants towards the ship.
Now that they understood how the Lunarian craft worked, Phos figured they might be able to take one down. Grab it with their metal and smash it into the earth, deep below… While their skills may have been a bit rusty, Phos was confident they could handle it alone.
Then Flint was at their side, bow in hand, and- if they were on the moon, they'd be happy. They could learn all the archery they wanted from actual archers, use an actual bow, not have to ration shots depending on how much work Snowflake Obsidian could do.
But it would be so damned easy to pull the thing from the sky. Their powers had waxed, growing with every chunk of gold and platinum that washed up. Weight enough to clip the Lunarian wings-
But could they deny the gems flight up there? The same flight Phos took, but also the flight that got Phos into this mess-
Before they could waver for too long, a figure emerged from the black. Phos felt some relief when they recognized that tremendous mane of hair, even if it was no longer that particular shade of translucent red.
Behind them, the gems whispered, shocked by the appearance of someone new, not to mention that they were Lunarian.
"Padparadscha."
"Call me Padpa, Phos! Aren't we friends?"
More muttering behind Phos. Shock at the apparent history between Phos and Padpa, but also disbelief. It had been thousands of years (probably) since Phos had gone by that name, after all, as they had never shared it with the new gems, hoping for a fresh start.
Still, the past was never truly gone, and while it was mostly bad…
"It's good to see you again, Padpa." There were some highlights.
They were met with a radiant smile. "You've done well for yourself, haven't you?"
"I suppose, but the moon must be much nicer-"
"Nicer, maybe. But less boring?" Padpa laughed for a moment before taking a flying leap off the ship, landing with a roll. The gems all gasped appropriately. "Now you've got to introduce me!"
And so Phos did. Some part of them wanted to ask for more details about the moon, about Cinnabar, Dia, Antarc, and all the rest… but Phos couldn't work up the courage to unearth too much bad blood. Not in front of the gems. Thankfully, Padpa wouldn't have many grievances to unearth, in addition to generally being charming. The cool senpai-ness never truly wore off, it seemed.
Carnelian was already pestering them for sword techniques when Padpa gave Phos a questioning glance. "Who's that one? The dead ringer for Dia over there."
Graphite had, thank goodness, lingered near the back, but had worked their way closer upon seeing Padpa's warm reception. (Now that it was pointed out to Phos, the similarities- barring hair- were remarkable.)
"That's Graphite. She's a bit like Dia, actually-" There was a certain cheerful air to it all, Phos thought. A reunion with someone long gone… once the initial horror wore off, it seemed as if only good had come from this particular Lunarian craft…
Phos saw them out of the corner of their eye. Two other faces peering from the dark, visions straight out of Phos' dreams. Cinnabar and Antarcticite had come along.
This wasn't good for Phos' heart! Not that they had one, in a human sense, but the point still stood!
A short little thing. Takes inspiration from some story on AO3 with a very similar concept that I can't quite remember. Honestly, this entire story is just Phos getting the happy ending they were robbed of. The ending was 2Buddhist4Me, I guess.
Might be a two parter. idk.