A/N: So, um, I have nothing to say here... Not much action this chapter, but I promise we're over with the feels ^^
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To sum up.
She was a who-knows-how-old immortal mage who had sworn look after and care for those who needed it. That meant a life of altruism and self-sacrifice – she could never hate, nor love. That was also why she was given immortality, why she had supposedly ceased being a human: the fear of losing one would be enough to make her a hermit.
And she was used to that anyway. That look of gratitude when someone came to collect the patient and she could just see in their eyes that she had just saved their universe from collapsing. And it was comforting in a way. But what little consolation she could get from them would disappear as soon as the patient and their companion left her grove. So she would need another patient and another relieved relative or love to feel that she had accomplished something. Anything. But otherwise she was lonely, oh so lonely. As much as she enjoyed their happiness she was not part of it. What she healed were complete strangers. Although she cloaked the sadness from her shiny friends' prying minds (and sometimes her own) she needed a human being right next to her. It seemed she was still very much a human with her selfishness.
One had managed to wriggle underneath her cloak of indifference, however. Once a tiny little boy with a big wooden stick for a sword and big dreams up ahead, now a lanky teen with a real sword and equally big dreams. He had waltzed into her routine and made a comfortable place for himself in her grove and life with little to no objection from her. And for that there had been consequences.
The self-sacrifice she imposed on herself just… couldn't be anymore. Even now that she was alone (he had left her to escort that girl to her village, which left her seething with embers in her belly), she couldn't think of anything else but the moment he would come back and occupy her time with silly little stories or random ideas he'd want them to try out. Unbestowed to her, she had abandoned selflessness somewhere between the notes she would always play to him in the evening.
What if one day she would have to heal someone who had hurt him? What if one day she would have to heal someone who had killed him? Or what if it was him who would become a killer (though she doubted that from the very bottom of her heart)? And the dreaded question: what would she do once he… passed away?
In order for her duties to go on serenely, she had to become a hermit again.
Thinking that was easy, but how? There were so many questions in her life which had had none up until now and she didn't know what to do. She couldn't make a decision and her stars on which she depended so much wouldn't really help her.
And now, this… this feeling. It had made things worse.
She couldn't even describe what she felt during that moment when, instead of seeing her, the girl's eyes directly went to his and her mouth broke into an instant smile which had been as ear-splitting as his.
It was then when something in her had constricted, as though she had eaten a whole bowl of embers which had burned her body from her mouth cavity to her lower belly, where it had collapsed into a bonfire. There was no explanation for that. Nothing ever would have prepared her for that.
Suddenly, she heard someone extremely familiar shouting her name and immediately she sprung to her feet to welcome him.
As he made way through the hardest possible way through the trees and into the clearing, she couldn't help but smile at his antics.
One thing was sure: they could not continue like that. There was no way she could fulfill her obligations with these new-found feelings. And she refused to discard what she had done all her life.
She observed him as he passed through the last of the annoying trees. He was panting, probably running up until now, with a flushed and smiling face (as always) and palms tightened into fists which relaxed once he looked at her.
What was with adolescents and their way of smiling, anyway? She couldn't smile like that.
He stopped short of bumping into her and put his hand up in a mock salute. She giggled, but deftly noticed that his eyes were staring in a different direction, a little lower than what she preferred. A sigh tore from her lungs. She should really think of a new dress. But that later, when she'd cleared this mess. Despite the fact that she wouldn't need it then. So she forced a smile (it was old and used and useless, much like her flute, but she couldn't do better).
"You escorted her to her village, right?" she asked, in what she hoped to be a more distanced and colder tone.
"Yup," Yi nodded enthusiastically, "Safe and sound, with her family."
"Good then," she turned and slowly made for her garden. Soft footfalls alerted her that he had followed her. Shoot. Just what she didn't want. At all.
Nonetheless, she reached her garden and bent down to gather some herbs, not unaware that her butt was most probably in a very nice position. Still, she had an idea for an elixir that might soothe patients like the last one and had to try it instantly.
For a while her companion stood in silence somewhere behind her. However, just like with all adolescent boys, he couldn't sit still and soon he was fidgeting, wanting them to do something. She paid him no heed.
Eventually he spoke.
"Whatcha gathering herbs for?"
"I have an idea for this potion," she huffed in concentration, as she looked over at what she'd collected and mentally counted what was left to gather, "I believe it can soothe a patient's pain in case of illnesses like the last one."
At the last sentence she glanced at him right on time to notice how he stiffened slightly. Her heart fell at that notion.
She almost laughed out loud at how pathetic she actually were.
"That's… good, I guess," finally he managed to mumble out and they fell into an unwelcomed silence. He wanted to ask her something, that much was obvious.
And since she knew he wouldn't keep it in himself, she continued on with her work, all the while surveying her garden in delight. Although it was late autumn, there were still some plants blooming, ones that had managed to survive during the era of the Frozen Watchers or ones who had endured in the long years of the Rune Wars whose potential wasn't researched even by her.
Her fingers trailed over a flower which glowed in almost poisonous green and bloomed in a deadly violet. She had gone through so much to get this specimen from the Kumungu Jungle quite some time ago. Sadly, she hadn't had the opportunity to study its properties. Not to mention it was so fragile.
"Soraka?"
His voice snapped her out of her reverie. After all, he didn't call her with her full name as often. But, yay, he'd finally gotten tired of staring at her ass. She stood up from her crouch and turned to him.
"Yeah?"
Her hair was messy, having escaped her braid long ago, and her gown was caked with mud. Her hands were brown and wet, with the aftertaste of rich soil in the form of dirt under her fingernails. But there was contentment on her face that Yi couldn't quite place. He was momentarily struck. But he managed to get himself together.
"I wana train. Can you play for me a little?"
What Soraka could see were one of the best puppy eyes she'd ever felt on herself. Too bad she was immune to them (or at least she could try to make it seem so).
"I know no songs of wars and fighting, boy."
"I'm not gonna fight now, I'm gonna train my Wuju philosophy!"
"Well, I don't know any songs of philosophy either! My songs are of happiness, of the sky and the stars."
That really saddened Yi, but he had learned a few things and one of them was not pressuring her when she used that voice.
…..
When she saw that long face, she'd instantly wanted to take her words back. Sad features didn't suit him at all and she hated to be the reason for them. However, a small voice in her mind, one different from the stars', one which she hadn't heard before, reminded her of what she had to do, of what was at stake and what she should not feel.
The plan was clear in her head, tucked away from the curiosity of her friends, though she couldn't bring herself to do it. Still she gathered her strength, as patient as a tree slowly growing from a sapling to a mighty defender of the forest. If there was one thing the celestial mage could be proud of it was her patience.
It was stupid, really. And selfish. Very, very, incredibly selfish. Doing all that would mean sacrificing her sacred duty, the main reason she was still alive, just so she could salvage her feelings, rotten and meaningless as they were.
Yi came and went, undisturbed, not noticing the inner turmoil of his companion and though Soraka enjoyed the serene moments with him, she was preparing for the day that they would end. He grew taller and taller until he looked like a warrior of old, which only made her wish for family bigger (but she knew better). The number of patients was lessening with each week for which she was really happy. That meant her absence from the mortal world wouldn't be harmful. Very harmful.
And so, the day came.
It was another summer night.
However, this one was hot and stuffy, as though someone had set fire under the ground and left it to boil. Dark heavy clouds promised rain which she was sure won't soothe the burning soil. The mountains of Ionia weren't visible, shrouded in a dark blanket of mist; instead all she could see were the nearby hills and the dense thicket on top of them.
Thanks to her― the stars' magic, her grove was situated far lower than usual. Although the celestial mage was playing the flute, a melody of old, mourning a girl's loss of her childhood years, she was watching a certain path through the forest (one she was so used to watching) so intently that she paid little heed to the song and as a result made quite a few errors. Her eyes glowed with curiosity one could only deem mortal, as her fingers danced madly in a eerie tango over the finger holes. Her mind was elsewhere, going over the details of her plan over and over again.
The boy would usually come when the sun was six fingers away from setting and would stay much till later in the night. Although she had no means to see what the time was, the Starchild waited patiently. She could easily ask her companions the time, but she didn't want to appear impatient. She didn't want them to see just how much of her humanity was back.
There he was!
Her fingers hit a note so false it would have made her feel ashamed, as she studied the figure making his way through the bushes. For a second another image flashed before her eyes and she was overcome by a sense of déjà vu, but it was quickly banished from her mind. Now was the time.
"Soraka, what are you doing? Why are you staring at Yi so weirdly?" one of the stars (she couldn't distinguish them anymore) asked in her mind, in a shrill panicked voice.
Her eyes remained fixated on the boy, no word leaving her mouth. He was close to the entry of her grove. She drank in his appearance, the posture, the determination of each movement and the brightness of his soul.
After she'd had enough, she turned away and looked to the heavens.
"Seal the entrance."
The response was a long cry which only the ones who felt an unfairness be done would make.
"But why?!"
"What's gotten into you?!"
"Are you serious?!"
"Are you abandoning your duties?!"
"Why'd you keep Yi out?"
"And anyone else!"
She didn't say anything during the verbal onslaught, just let them shout at her. Then, slowly she let her mind open and all of her thoughts came rushing over the stars' old souls. Each ounce of feeling was laid out in the open and she sincerely hoped it was reason enough.
"Seal the entrance," she didn't as much as plead this time.
The silence that followed was more deafening than the cry from before.
"So be it, then," finally, a single voice rose over the others, deep and strong and older than the world, "Though we do not understand the motivations behind your wish, we are going to honour it."
As a distinct aura of otherworldly magic descended upon the grove and enveloped her in a thick coat of security, she shivered and wrinkled her nose in disgust; disgust over the future and over her actions. Shutting herself from the real world had been a stupid move. It parted her from her duties, from her habits, from what she'd loved doing, of the one person who has ever felt gratitude to her. However, she also understood that she couldn't have what she wanted; there were responsibilities to be had. And depriving Ionians from her service for a short while until a certain person forgot about her was far better than for a longer time, or possibly forever.
Or that was simply what she told herself so as not to admit the fear that was consuming her whole.
There was a distinct cry of outrage and helplessness from the other world, but Soraka did her best to ignore it.
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