Chapter 9 – About us: Loss
Aether's thoughts about Navia
There's a part of me that still searches for Lumine, even when I know she's gone. Not gone in the way that people talk about loss—death, absence. She's still out there, but I fear she's not the sister I knew. The sister I grew up with, the one who stood beside me across countless worlds… I fear that version of her is lost. And I can't help but feel responsible, as if I could have done something different. If I had been just a little faster, a little stronger, maybe—just maybe—she'd still be with me.
I thought, over time, the pain would dull. That I'd grow numb to the aching emptiness that follows me like a shadow. But it doesn't. Every time I close my eyes, I see her face. The way she smiled when we were younger, carefree and full of wonder. And then I see the look she gave me the last time we met—so distant, so unreachable. She's right there, and yet… I've lost her.
It haunts me, more than I'd like to admit. This feeling of helplessness. I've fought gods, traveled between worlds, and yet, I can't reach the one person I care about most. And then, there's Navia. She stands beside me, steady and unwavering, her presence a comfort I never knew I needed. She doesn't try to fill the silence or offer empty words of encouragement. She just… is. Her hand in mine, her head resting against my shoulder—it's the only thing that makes the ache bearable.
Sometimes, when the grief becomes too much, I'll break down. Quietly, in the safety of the night, when I think no one can hear. But she knows. She always knows. She doesn't ask me to explain, doesn't push me to talk. Instead, she'll just hold me. Her embrace feels like the one solid thing in a world that's constantly slipping through my fingers.
No matter how many times I feel weak, with Navia, I've found something that gives me strength. Maybe I'll never get my sister back, maybe that part of me will always be broken. But as long as she's here, holding my hand through the storm, I know I can keep going.
Navia's thoughts about Aether
It's strange how grief settles in. It doesn't crash down all at once, like you'd expect. It comes in waves—quiet, creeping. I've felt it over and over, losing piece after piece of my world. First, my mother. Then my father. And then Melus and Silver, both ripped away from me before I even had the chance to hold onto them. Each loss left a scar, but the worst part is how I've grown accustomed to the emptiness they leave behind. As if, somehow, I've accepted that this is just… how it's meant to be.
I try to be strong, to carry the weight of their memories with dignity, but sometimes it's too much. I can't breathe under the pressure of it all. I see their faces in every corner of this city, in every smile, every sound that reminds me of them. And some days, I just want to collapse under the weight of their absence.
But then, he's here. Quiet, steady, always watching but never prying. He's lost someone too—someone who still walks this world, but is as unreachable to him as my family is to me. He understands, more than anyone else could. When the pain claws at my chest, and I feel like I'm falling apart, he holds me together. He doesn't say anything, but he doesn't have to. Just having him there, his hand tracing slow circles on my back as I cry into his shoulder—it's enough. It's the only thing that helps me breathe when the grief becomes unbearable.
There are moments when I want to scream at the world for taking them from me. For taking everything that ever mattered. But then, I look at him, and I see the quiet strength in his eyes. He's suffered too, and yet, he keeps going. He pulls me back when I feel like I'm drowning. He lets me grieve, lets me fall apart, but never lets me forget that I'm not alone.
It's not that the pain ever goes away. It doesn't. But with him, it's easier to carry. His presence, his silent understanding—it's the comfort I never knew I needed. I've lost so much, but with him, I've found something that feels like home. And in the darkest moments, when the memories threaten to swallow me whole, I hold onto him, knowing that together, we'll make it through.