Octavia's eyes widened, slowly but surely. Viola held the girl's gaze as every heated razor melted away. The way their breaths gradually came to match wasn't lost on her, shoulders rising and falling in perfect time with one another. Her glow was eternal. "You feel it, too, don't you?"

Octavia was as silent as that which had encircled them, looming even now. Still, she nodded.

Viola's eyes floated downwards to the flute, nestled preciously against satin. Were she to let go, her soul would surely crumble to pieces. She was a conduit for surging warmth, a pulse that began with a girl and ended with metal. In an ideal world, she'd cling to the same soft ripples within forever. She'd drown in them, maybe, surging as they were.

Crackling alone was a deterrent. The crunch of crystal born anew in the open air was enough to make her stomach lurch, the softest glow smashed to pieces in place of panic. She tore her hand from Octavia's shoulder with only moments to spare. They were moments that meant little, ultimately, given what crumpling ice had already forged the sickest of spears yet again. Once more, the frosted breaths of a beast left the tip aligned with her head. She couldn't outrun it, nor could she evade.

Octavia was faster. She was fast enough to be her shield thrice over, arms thrown wide as she stared down jagged crystal. Terrified eyes didn't match false bravery. Viola's heart screamed where her mouth was useless, and she could do little more than bear witness to the inevitable.

There was a flicker of rage that stung her blood, for how she'd gained and lost all at once. She'd done enough of that long before she'd gotten here, granted. Kindness be damned, on the cusp of frozen wrath in shadow, she cursed Cielto.

His kindness had been a gamble to begin with. She hadn't stolen all of it, if memory served. In every conceivable way, this was a gamble of its own. She wasn't sure what she was gambling to begin with.

"Luce del Sole, Piano!" Viola screamed.

They fit as beautifully on her lips as a flute did in her hand. They graced the air as perfectly as the rush that claimed her blood. They left her head spinning as fast as the spark that burst in her soul, and the thrumming fire that followed risked burning her alive. Viola engraved the syllables onto her tongue, golden and sweet. She etched the light that outburned the sun into her heart.

The arms that had been cast so wide before her came inwards instead, two confident hands extended towards false darkness. Again did Octavia's face match poorly with her motions. If anything, she looked absolutely baffled, knees bent and shoulders squared. The panic on her face was the least of it. Whatever brilliant yellows budded on her fingertips and blossomed into stars were enough to leave them both in awe.

Ice didn't hesitate. The path Viola had come to fear was just as true, spiraling and unhindered as crystal cut clean through the air. Where it surged forth, Octavia surged back, and the sun put a glacier to shame. From nothing, her touch birthed the smallest of suns, luminous rage igniting between confused fingers. Her radiant sphere swelled in a grasp she could hardly maintain. It doubled in size, tripled in size, devoured what scorched oxygen it could swallow. Viola was fairly certain the girl didn't set it free of her own accord. Whether or not she had, there would've been no contest.

The shining ball was no less than five times faster than its creator. Frozen violence faltered instantly. The wrath of a shattering star burst against rivaling ice with a fierce bang, startlingly loud in contrast to different assailants altogether. The crystal that succumbed to a sun far stronger cracked and splattered with ease, pelting the earth uselessly. Even as the same precious light flickered and died, the last wisps of a heavenly glow fizzling out in full, the sparkle it left behind on each fleck of ice was gorgeous. Viola chased every fading afterimage with her eyes.

She didn't move. She could hardly breathe, save for the labored breaths that followed adrenaline. Octavia was at least twice as bad on that front, outright shaking as stagnant hands still graced the air in front of her. Her arms remained extended, and her eyes remained pooled with shock. Fingertips bubbling over with brilliance moments before were dim, and Viola stared at those instead.

As slowly as Viola could possibly imagine, Octavia turned her head, offering the same stunned expression to match with her own. "What…was that?" she nearly panted.

Viola barely had a decent answer. "I-I…I don't know."

She battled for her breath through every word. "Was that…magic?" she tried.

Technically speaking or not, Viola couldn't frame the sight as anything but. "Maybe."

Little by little, her gasping evened out. "I don't…know how to do magic. I've never done magic before."

Viola was far more distracted by the endless pulsing beyond her chest to offer a solid explanation. Where it had sparked and exploded, it now seared and ebbed. Her blood swirled in a current she couldn't stem, running deep and branching far. It was a constant, splendid and beloved in equal measure. It had always been there, maybe. Why she'd never held it close was beyond her, and doubly so for why she'd never shared it.

The flash of blue that crested the corner of her vision was her sole interruption. It was enough for her to recoil, the same waves of glorious warmth never once setting her free. Where disorientation led her to hesitate, Octavia didn't succumb to the same. Already, she was her shield yet again, tentative arms hovering in familiar positions. "Can you do that again?"

Viola stared down only her back. "Do what again?"

It wasn't the same wolf, and the crackling began anew. There would, inevitably, come a point when blows came in tandem. Viola dreaded it. "That! Whatever it is you did!"

She couldn't even prove that her stolen incantation was the prompt for the sun in the first place. Flowing tides sloshing in her soul were enough for her to take a guess. "I can try!"

Octavia's trust in her was almost concerning--particularly given the way she'd insisted on the exact opposite, so recently. Her hands were firm, this time, and her arms were steady before her. "Do it!" she called.

Viola, too, called back with more strength than she could've sworn she carried. "Luce del Sole, Piano!"

The second time she forged the sun, it was every bit as wondrous. It was every bit as resplendent, every bit as ablaze versus what ice sought to tear it in two. Crystal was worthless in the face of the blast, bending and bursting into shimmering fragments with a bang. Again, it sprinkled harmlessly to the dirt below. Viola's eyes were wide open all the way through, and the scathing light that fought back burned just as deep into her retinas. It was what she wanted.

Where Octavia's fingers surrendered to true sunshine at last, false shadows upon a wolf surrendered ice in turn. Neither of them moved. The others did, and Viola was vaguely aware of that much. She hadn't bothered counting the seconds between horrific crackling and frantic stars. Anything beyond defense delved into the unknown. She still didn't know what each darkened beast was in the first place, blessed by foreign frost and sickening silence.

"Keep doing it," Octavia demanded, her hands already aloft once more. "I…think I'm getting the hang of this. I have an idea."

Part of Viola was afraid to ask. Most of her succumbed to instinct, sinking into a swirling sea that soaked her soul. She nodded, whether or not Octavia could see it. "If you're sure!"

"Yes!"

Viola inhaled. She exhaled. She'd never forget the words as long as she lived, probably. "Luce del Sole, Piano!"

There was no ice to rebel against, for once. Octavia didn't wait to challenge the same, and she didn't give one singular beast so much as the chance to move. Her palms pulsed, her skin ran bright, and she was once more fuel to the smallest of supernovas. Viola had expected her to send it flying, a shooting star locked onto the darkness. She hadn't expected the girl to take flight, herself.

Her little sun was fast. Octavia, too, was the same. Her boots pounded heavily against the frost-flecked earth as she sprinted, set on a collision course with cursed shadows instead. Her movement was a catalyst for the same in return, and Viola's stomach lurched. Ultimately, her speed served her excellently. Her light served her even better than that.

Octavia's arms came up, her hands came down, and she besieged the dark with bursting stars. Rupturing light at point blank was far, far worse. The sight was almost brutal, every beam crashing face-first against the blackened wolf. Viola had half a mind to brace for whatever cry would come with the blow, relentlessly scorching and unforgiving. It never made a sound.

Forever silent or not, erupting radiance cut through every shadow. Holy light brought forth color, although color was roughly as charred as Viola had figured it would be. When the animal staggered and collapsed, the damage was mildly gross. It wasn't as though she'd had the choice. She was far more shocked that there had been anything beneath the shaded cloak at all. Viola offered up a wordless prayer for what harm she really did leave in a forest so foreign.

If the shift from darkened to pure was jarring for Octavia, she didn't show it. She practically leapt, surging in reverse with swiftness that landed her on her feet. The reflex was almost inhuman, her balance abnormal. Given who she was, Viola kicked herself for expecting anything different.

"Luce del Sole, Piano!"

The same inhuman agility was a blessing. Shadows weren't content to stay still. Where one had fallen, three more stood strong, and more than a singular cursed wolf gave chase. It hardly mattered, for how the light-gifted girl put their speed to shame. If Octavia's swift steps faltered, then it was brilliance that filled the gap--literally. Ice that rushed to greet her was blasted in the best way, torn to shimmering shreds once more as she hurled her pulsing star.

"Luce del Sole, Piano!"

Scattered shards scratching the leather of her boots were the closest any beast got to a meaningful blow. Octavia bore down on the forsaken animal with force just as feral, if not radiant in turn. Again were her fingers aglow, and again did she offer up the sun. She'd seemed shocked enough about it, recently. From where Viola was standing, it may as well have been a reflex engraved into her blood. She hit her mark beautifully, and that much was expected.

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The scathing burns were distracting, grotesque as they were once more against fur. Pressed deep into a body freed of fizzling darkness, Viola again lamented the damage. She almost earned damage herself, twofold as the threat on her right was. Octavia was fast. She wasn't, and only her lips had any chance of outmatching what crisp ice coalesced far too quickly on frozen breaths.

"L-Luce del Sole, Piano!" she cried, stumbling backwards.

It just barely sufficed. She would never grow used to the girl's baffling agility, by which she could blink and bear a braided shield. If anything, Viola could've sworn she was getting faster. Octavia didn't hesitate for a moment, dashing into a line of fire that Viola regretted making. Ultimately, the girl bore the one weapon that mattered, luminous and true. She skidded to a halt before careening ice, and she stole her shattering prize with brightness unmatched.

Octavia had just enough leeway to peer over her shoulder, fading palms still extended forever. "Are you alright?"

Viola could barely breathe. She could speak, and she could still cobble together four words that left her soul pounding. That was enough to work with. "I'm fine!" she called. "What about you?"

"Keep going!" Octavia insisted, throwing her eyes forward once more. "I can take it!"

If Viola peered hard enough, she could catch the quick rise and fall of the girl's shoulders. She panted in time with what thin beads of sweat trickled down her cheeks. Still, she was every bit as sturdy. She was close, and Viola couldn't pinpoint what part of her disliked the idea of distance from a thrumming warmth not her own. It was, without question, palpable. The magnet affixed to her soul was impossible to ignore. If there existed one yet stronger so near, she was fine letting it pull all that she possessed--swirling within or otherwise. That, too, she could feel.

"Luce del Sole, Piano!" Viola called out, clear as ever.

The exchange was instinctive. She spoke, and the sun burned hot. Ice flew, and ice faltered. Octavia ran, she swung, and her scorching stars laid waste to the beasts that barred her path. There came the slightest scorch of another kind in Viola's muscles, her arms throbbing with something less than pleasant. The spiraling pressure that still washed over her heart was enough to dull the pain, the tiniest of headaches masked beneath sparks she'd grown used to. She wasn't sure how many times she'd summoned radiance, nor how many times Octavia had set it free. She could've burned forever.

It took longer than it should've to register silence--innocent silence, born of isolation. The thud that preceded it was a good thing, disgusting as it was four times over. Viola averted her eyes from the charred corpses that remained, still terribly quiet even in death. Every wisp of putrid shade had set them free, at least, and the true sun caught gray fur on the way out. The color was a parting gift. It made no more sense, and it was no more comforting.

Her heavy breaths broke the stillness. Octavia was worse than her. She had every right to be, granted, tired arms falling limply to her sides as sweat beaded in earnest down her reddened cheeks. She gasped for oxygen in place of swelling suns that had done the same. Viola had half a mind to apologize, if not solely for cursing her with endless radiance in the first place.

When the girl turned her head, her anxious eyes touched Viola's own. Given the waves of sparks that still tickled her soul in passing, she was almost afraid to look away. For a moment, she couldn't.

"Do you feel…" Octavia began, trailing off so soon after.

Viola didn't know what to call it. Undoubtedly, she felt it. That was enough. "I--"

"Excellent."

The soft voice she caught from behind nearly scared her to death, and she almost lost her balance altogether. Octavia took it slightly better--albeit with a different kind of fright, her tail painfully stiff and fluffy ears spearing high. In the strangest way, it was cute. Viola turned sharply on her heel, and whatever possessed her to ready the same luminous words on her lips was sickeningly reflexive. For how her stranger had handed them to her in the first place, returning them might've been rude.

As to what he was doing here at all, she had absolutely no clue. The revelation was nearly enough to scare her for a second time. His clothes were identical, his demeanor every bit as calm. Devoid of a graceful wind, the sunlight that tangled in his wispy hair was resplendent. If she had to pick, at this point, Viola still would've chosen two fluffy ears, just as pristinely white. Those came with braids, to be fair.

The same braids practically whipped her in the face with the speed at which Octavia ran. She didn't bother extending her palms, the promise of the sun forsaken altogether. Arms thrown wide were enough, and she served as a razor-eyed shield once more. With her ears flat against her hair, Viola half-expected her to hiss. It might've been an ignorant thought.

She raised one palm of her own in a plea for peace, never taking her eyes off her interloper. "No, no, it's okay. I know him."

Octavia hesitated to lower her arms. At the very least, she peeked over her shoulder. "You do?"

"You remembered," he said softly, his smile much the same.

He was hard to forget. His parting gift was unforgettable, surely. "Cielto," she tried.

He nodded. "Correct."

His demeanor was enough, apparently. Octavia lowered her arms at last. Even so, she was practically tethered to Viola's side, the space between them almost nonexistent. Viola didn't hate it. Cielto eyed their distance with care, his gaze drifting back and forth between them not-so-subtly.

"You both fought splendidly," he praised. "Well done."

Viola only stared, battling to swallow every explosive question on her tongue. "I have…no idea what just happened."

"Who is this person?" Octavia hissed under her breath.

Viola stifled a laugh. The defensiveness was almost charming, provided it was aimed anywhere but at herself. "It really is fine. His name is Cielto. He's an…acquaintance."

She still wasn't sure what to call him, really, fleeting as their encounters had been. "Friend" was pushing it. "Sage" was baffling. Cielto seemed satisfied enough with the moniker she'd settled on, anyway. "Indeed. And you, too, have found someone far more precious than even that."

Viola's eyes widened. She was vaguely aware of Octavia's own mirroring the same. "So this is what you meant," she murmured.

"What are you talking about?" Octavia asked of Viola alone.

Again, Viola locked eyes with her in return. "It's like I said," she began quietly. "I was looking for something. I'm pretty sure that 'something' was…you."

"Me?" Octavia breathed. "But…why?"

"It is destined to be so," Cielto interrupted, if not gently. "Just as you are both destined for something greater, together."

Viola's eyes floated to him, instead. "What do you mean?"

He paused. "At the heart of Unis-Resonne lies a place known as Mount Clearoi. Go to that point, and all of your questions shall be answered."

When he fell silent once more, Viola raised an eyebrow. "What, am I supposed to 'just know' where that is, too?"

Cielto chuckled. The sound was too pleasant for her to stay irritated. "You've come this far by your own means. I have no doubt that you will find your way."

"You're not a very straightforward person, you know that?"

And again, he only laughed. "I can't blame you for thinking so. I wish you the best, Viola."

He turned to a girl still more than on edge. "And you, as well, Octavia."

Whatever tension she'd grown eternally stiff with melted instantly, replaced with utter confusion. Anxious eyes shot to Viola. "Wait, how does he know my--"

She had no good answer, and she exchanged the same shock. Viola's gaze snapped forward. "Cielto, how do you--"

She got her silence back. She got her isolation back, a leafy clearing littered only with icy debris and unfortunate fauna. Where a not-so-stranger had so recently stood, she found only spilling sunshine in his place. As soon as he'd come, he was gone, and Viola may as well have blinked. It was the second time she'd lost him, fleeting as she'd learned him to be. She shouldn't have been as surprised as she was.

The surprise on Octavia's face, by comparison, was almost humorous. "He's…where did he…"

Viola exhaled heavily. "He does that."

Octavia was quiet, for a moment. Given the less-than-spectacular answer, Viola couldn't blame her. "Mount Clearoi," she echoed softly.

"Have you been there?" Viola asked.

Octavia shook her head, her braids brushing against her still-reddened cheeks along the way. "No. I've never left Golden Crest. I've never even heard of it."

Viola smiled. "If it's any consolation, I've never heard of it, either."

"How are we gonna get there?" she tried.

Viola didn't hold onto her smile for long. What possessed her to ask was beyond her. "You're going to go with me?"

The way Octavia's ears fell flat against her hair in the slightest wasn't lost on Viola. She was starting to get used to the body language, damning as every feline feature was. "Did you…not want me to?"

"Of course I do," Viola said quickly. "I just…didn't know if you wanted to. I thought you might not want to…travel with a human. Or be around one at all, I guess."

The fingers at her sides curled into fists, loose or not. That, too, wasn't subtle. "I don't know a lot about humans," Octavia mumbled, her voice small and meek. "I don't have a lot to go off of. I thought they'd be worse, from what I was told."

Viola sighed. "Some of them are. I don't blame you."

"But you're…not," she went on. "And when we were doing…whatever that was, I could feel…"

Her newly-balled fists unfurled just as fast, and she peered into dim palms aimlessly. Viola's eyes, too, drifted down into her upturned hands. "I know," Viola reassured.

Octavia flexed and unflexed her fingers experimentally. When she lost her words, Viola found her own. "Maybe…if we're together, we can figure that part out," she offered. "The light. And whatever that feeling is."

Slowly, she raised her head. "I'd be…alright with that."

It was Octavia who found a smile first. The sight was wonderful, and it was an instant trigger for Viola's own. "Do you need to let your family know?" she asked.

Octavia nodded. "Yes. I'll be careful what I tell them. I don't know how they'd react to everything."

When her eyes drifted downwards, it was initially confusing. "I have…one condition, actually."

Viola tilted her head. "What is it?"

Octavia fixed one pointed finger on a hand long forgotten, still clinging desperately to what was so precious forever. "You…never played it for me. You said you would."

Viola followed her motions. The fact that she'd neglected the flute was unfathomable, beloved as it was. How long it had been clasped tightly in her palm was beyond her, metal long since warmed still perfect in every way. It was doubly so, somehow. What gentle surging and swirling had stemmed from beyond steel was muscle memory, burned into her skin long after each wave had ebbed. Briefly, she could only stare at what soft sparkles the little instrument stole from the sun above.

Viola beamed. "It'll be a long walk. I'll play for you as much as you'd like. I'm pretty good at navigating, so we can enjoy the trip as much as we want. I'll show you whatever you want to see."

The sparkle in Octavia's eyes shamed a little flute one thousand times over. "Really?"

"Of course. There's an inn I think you'd like the food from, actually. The waitress is sort of…we'll deal with that part when we get there. It's a great place."

"That sounds wonderful," Octavia said, a voice so recently vicious gradually filling with happiness.

Viola preferred it that way. She preferred the companionship, and she preferred an audience for a wandering song. She adored the way a flute became cherished by two, her soul shared in ways both reasonable and not. She didn't bother accounting for whatever was to come. It wasn't that Cielto didn't matter, nor that she'd ceased to care. Whatever sparks still pricked at her heart and left her aglow simply took priority. She couldn't help it. It was his fault, in a way, for introducing her to that much.

It was his fault for being her sign at all. In place of buried crystals and greedy oppression, she'd grown shackled to the soul of another. Even so, it was the freest Viola had ever been.

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