“Mother, I’m home,” Vespera called through the house, closing the door behind her and removing her shoes. She took her book bag to the dining room table and unloaded its contents. 

“How was your day?” Her mother’s voice drifted from the living room, where she sat hunched over her word puzzle. Boring hobby, truly. She tried a few times to bond with her mother, but she hardly ever knew the answers. She used to work a lot, but recently she has been spending more time at home. It seems her coworkers also visited less and less. Her mother didn’t bother looking up.

“Just fine,” Vespera responded shortly. She knew the script by heart—her mother asked, she answered, and neither of them really cared.

“What have you learned today?” She asked. Vespera sighed, flipping open her notebook to today's Biology study sheet. Her mother treated facts like other parents treated prayer. 

“Yes… Today, I learned that over a thousand types of birds are found in our world. Despite this, only about sixty different species of wings have been found among our people. And there's only one native bird species to Terra. The most common being species of sparrow wings with over a hundred recorded cases, the rarest being the albatross with two people on record, and Great Green Macaw wings, with only seven…” Vespera slowed in her reading.

Regina paused her writing, pencil hovering mid-air. “Anything else?”

“Uh… yes, the Tree sparrow is the most common sparrow wing type in southern Axion, and the Song sparrow in the north,” Vespera sheepishly concluded. Her mother looked back down at her crossword, picking up her pencil again and continuing to fill in her answers. Her feathers clung to her side as if trying to shrink in appearance. 

“Very good, you learned a lot today,” She said with no real emotion in her tone. Vespera wrung her hands in her lap. 

“Although… I haven’t learned much yet, have I?” she questioned. 

“How so?” Her mother responded.

“My wings aren’t green,” Vespera murmured, glancing at the bright feathers folded tightly against her arms, “They’re scarlet, you think? Still a rare sort,”

Her mother’s jaw tightened with an audible click. She didn’t turn around, but Vespera saw the tension in her shoulders. Her mother’s lips pressed into a thin line as her eyes flicked, just for a moment, to the vivid colors of Vespera’s wings. Then she turned back to her puzzle as though the sight burned.

“Scarlet," she says. Regina muttered under her breath. “I’d call them red.”

“But they look like a Scarlet Macaw’s… Don’t you think so? It’s the most common macaw wing.” 

Her shift happened a few years ago now. She remembered being so itchy and her mother being impatient, waiting for her feathers to grow in. It was so embarrassing; she had a bald spot on her left arm for nearly a year until they all grew in, and even then, she had to worry about her baby feathers. She wore a privacy cloak some days, but most kids spotted those a mile away and would rip them off if you weren't paying attention. Actually, when she thought about it, this only happened to the girls wearing cloaks. The boys would never do it to each other. They started making accessories for them to keep them yank-proof.

When her feathers began to turn red, her mother showed visible relief. She didn’t understand why; she never told her. But she didn’t ask for fear of retribution. That was until the end stages of Vespera’s shift, when her flight feathers grew blue, and the red transitioned into vibrant greens and yellows. Her friends often marveled at her wings, calling them the most stunning they’d ever seen, but her mother refused to look at them most days. She had to research what wings she might’ve had on her own, with the help of a nearby university student. Dale, who is trying to specialize in the bird mutation and avian species, like his father. He offered to help after seeing her struggle to move through the aisles of the public library without knocking over the shelves.

“For your sake, I hope that’s not true,” her mother said cruelly. Vespera could feel tears sting her eyes as she grabbed her notebook and ran to her bedroom, closing the door softly behind her, careful not to slam it. Why did I even bother? She thought bitterly. Vespera wished, just once, her mother would say something—anything—that wasn’t layered with quiet disdain. 

She flung her bag on the ground, spilling its contents. On top of the pile was the magazine about birds that Dale had shown her that day at the library. She never returned it. Dale asked about it, telling her about the fine she’s racking up by not just checking the book in and back out again. Not that he would actually make her trade anything. 

“The Dewey decimal system is waiting for its long-lost paperback!” he told her. She didn’t want to risk it by taking it back. What if the library burned down? The article could be lost forever. That was a risk she wasn’t willing to take.

When she showed her mom the article, her mom looked at it for a couple of seconds before walking away completely and going to her room. She never said a word to Vespera about her discovery. The disappointment this caused was not easily stomached. Or forgiven. 

Years later, Vespera found herself in the forest near her childhood home. Twenty-eight and still unwed, she was visiting home after getting fired from yet another job. People always touch her wings, but they didn't like it if she touched them back, albeit usually with more gusto. She felt as if the world wanted her to fail. She couldn’t understand why she still felt so lost in this life. Was she alive to simply fulfill the wishes of those in control over her? Being a woman and having wings? The gods wanted her at a disadvantage. 

She flew between the branches of the trees freely. Some people with wings came to the forest to fly without fear, but most were still too afraid to fly at all. She perched on a high branch, looking out. She could nearly smell the seawater. She wondered how far the ocean must be to sense it from this distance. The wind carried whispers through the leaves as if the forest was alive, drawing her deeper into its embrace. Shadows danced like specters in the fading light, and the hum of the trees blended with the rustle of wings. Vespera yelled at the setting sun. She was simply following the other bird’s lead. She always felt more avian than human. 

Unruly, they called her. She never cussed or raised her voice, but she stood her ground. Here was the only place she could leave it behind, be loud, and fly.

The warmth from Helion still lingered despite its close departure from the sky. She stretched her wings as wide as possible, flapping them slightly. She watched as the wind she generated shook the pines, causing some to fall. She stopped and looked at her wings. Her beautiful wings. She sighed. What good were they? A destiny she had no hope of stopping? To fall in love forever? Is that all her wings meant? The alternative was worse. What if they did mean nothing? What if, despite all her hard work, she was alone in this world after all? It tore her up if she thought about it too much. Vespera tried to push those thoughts to the back of her mind. It was the constant negativity that she fought every day. 

The trees reached high into the sky, their branches knotted like fingers clutching the last rays of sunlight. The forest seemed to hum as the light dimmed, an almost imperceptible vibration that made Vespera’s feathers prickle. This was her sanctuary, her escape for many years. But tonight, it felt different. She heard a few shouts back, not as many as usual. It felt cathartic to yell at the sun as if it were the reason for all her problems. She screamed again, but this time, she heard an echo. She thought she must be imagining things; the forest echoed, but this sounded off. She decided to try a different sound. Vespera made the loudest, high-pitched sound she could. It sounded crackly and unnatural in her ears, but it was loud enough. Returned to her was a perfect song. Her heart rate quickened. Who was that?

Vespera took flight, this time to the treetops, daring to fly above them—not high, but just enough to land on the canopy. She tried to sing a whistle note, but it came out cracked again. Nonetheless, out of the treetops, she saw another person emerge, singing back. She flew closer, and the other person did the same. She couldn't believe it—they had the same feathers! Was this who she was supposed to find? Was this what she had been waiting for so long?

They began to taunt each other in the air, and Vespera got little glimpses of who they were—giggling while circling each other. She was beautiful, with bright red hair that seemed to glow with fire in the setting sunlight. Her own hair was darker, almost auburn. The mystery woman wore a yellow sundress covering her feet as she flew. Her laugh sounded like the first time Vespera tasted an ash pepper; it made her sweat, and she didn’t understand why she enjoyed it. Their wings brushed briefly, soft and electric, sending a jolt through Vespera’s body. She laughed nervously, unsure whether she was more startled by the touch or by the way her eyes seemed to see straight through her and into the world beyond.

Vespera hovered for a heartbeat, her wings trembling against the wind. She didn’t know why—maybe it was the light on the soft curls of the woman’s hair in the fading sun, or the way her laugh cut through the air like music—but something about her felt inevitable.

Taking a deep breath, she dove, wings folded tight against her back. Gravity pulled her downward, but it wasn’t just the fall that made her heart race. She reached out mid-flight, catching the woman's hand. She stopped flapping her wings, letting their body weight begin to fall back toward the forest. They locked eyes, and the woman took Vespera’s right hand and entangled it with hers. Her eyes were the same light green as her own. They opened their wings too late, catching air unevenly—spinning as they slowed. They released each other suddenly, stumbling a bit before finding their wind and circling to find each other again. 

She was laughing; they both were! Vespera couldn’t remember a time when she ever had this much fun! The woman matched her speed, wrapping her legs around Vespera’s waist and using her own wings to twirl them. She released, doing a flip before flying perhaps a couple of meters in front of Vespera. She looked her up and down before flying down towards the trees. Vespera followed. She landed on the forest floor loudly, branches and dead pine needles crunching beneath their feathers. They were both breathing ragged breaths as they stared at each other. The sky was nearly dark now.

“I’m Helena,” she said finally. 

“Helena, that's a beautiful name,” She trailed off. “I’m Vespera,” she responded, bringing her arms behind her and bowing with her wings. Helena did the same. They rose to meet each other's gaze again. 

“You have the same wings as me, Vespera,” She said, smiling.

“Yes, it seems I do,” Vespera said, laughing.

“They are the feathers of a Scarlet Macaw,” Helena said back, “I’ve been searching for someone with the same wings as me the last four years, all over Axion.” 

“You’ve been all over Axion? Looking for someone like you? But there are many wings like mine,” Vespera asked, trying to clarify Helena’s story in her mind. 

“I've met no one like you,” she responded. Vespera blushed. 

“Four years is so long. How did you end up here? So close to where I was raised?” She asked. Helena shook her head and stepped closer to Vespera until they were only a foot apart. 

“No, Vespera, I was not searching for me, although I found myself along the way,” she said. Helena took Vespera’s hand in her own and placed it over where her heart would sit. “I didn’t know what I was looking for, but tonight, the forest called to me,” her voice light yet sure as if the trees had whispered the truth to her.

Vespera rubbed the back of her neck with a free wing; she could feel her temperature rising. She couldn't even name all the emotions she felt at this exact moment. She knew she wanted to know everything she could about Helena, ignoring that they could be prosecuted if caught in a position like this. Deep in the forest, though, where the wingless did not travel, Vespera felt safe trusting the gods to watch her.

“Tonight, the forest called to me…” Vespera echoed. “I know this might seem sudden, but my home is a short flight from here. Would you like to meet my mother?”

By the time they got back to the house, her mother was already waiting outside on the back porch. They had walked home, which did give her time. She had set up a table and set out stools instead of chairs. She also had a bottle of wine decanted and waiting. 

Her relationship with her mother improved after she moved out of the house at twenty. During their time apart, they wrote each other letters frequently, no matter where Vespera went. Vespera had traveled a short distance from home but far enough to find some construction work a few hours south in Heliowood. It was hard work, but she wasn't picky, and it allowed her to use her wings on a daily basis. It was hardly even a town yet, filled with migrants and displaced families. They were working hard to make it their own. 

She had written a letter to her mother out of good faith, not expecting a reply, but to her surprise, her mother returned everyone with her own letter. 

She was very interested in the south, especially the canopy forest. She'd never seen the dense wall vegetation that separated Axion from the rest of the southern continent. They bonded over the slight cultural changes at first, but over time, their letters were more about how their months apart had been. Also included with every one of Vespera’s letters was something she had learned while she was gone. However, unlike when she was in school, these facts were things she was learning about life.

‘Mother, today I learned winged individuals are more likely to have darker coats of feathers in the colder climates. I stand out quite a bit.’

‘Mother, Today I saw a new type of wing. I asked, and they informed me they were those of a hawk. They said that they are called ‘predator wings’. I’ll have to do more research, he didn't seem keen on talking about it.’

‘Mother, today another classmate told me another draft may happen, but only for predator wings. Do you think that will happen?’

‘Mother, did you know there were more climate zones up north than down south? A thirty-minute flight to the next zone, and it would be sunny, but where I'm staying, I need a cloak to stay warm.’

‘Mom, today I tried a new type of food; it was a sweet golden fruit with large seeds. Have you ever tried one?’ 

‘Mother, the people here have all sorts of disabilities and mutations. I learned most of them fled for fear of public ridicule in Blackrock. One woman has only a beak but no wings. Another man was born with soft bones; he can't stand on his own.’

‘Mom, learning about your diagnosis frightens me; I’ll be returning home soon. I've learned so much in my time away, it's time I come to share it.’

‘Mom, don’t apologize to me. Today, I learned that it’s very common for children down south to care for their parents long after they’re adults.’  

Despite all these developments in their relationship over the years, Vespera was still shocked to see the setting waiting for them. Her mother was the first to speak.

“Hello, it’s nice to meet you; I'm Vespera’s mother,” she said politely, extending her hand to Helena. Helena smiled brightly.

“Your accent is very familiar,” Helena said as she grabbed her forearm, pulling her close to kiss her cheek. Shockingly, again, her mother repeated the motion. “My name is Helena,”

“Helena, I’m Regina; it’s a pleasure to meet you. I haven’t had someone kiss my cheek in a long time,” she said with a smile.

“For you, I'd kiss your feet if asked,” Helena said playfully.

“Flattery will get you everywhere,” Regina said, “Please, sit. I’ll say this once, then hold my tongue. I am disappointed you aren’t a man.”

“At one point in time, I was. But I chose not to live that lie many years ago,” Helena responded gently. Vespera gives her a curious look, then refocuses her attention on her mother. What does that mean?

“The rest of your lives will be much easier if you forget about each other at this moment and walk away. No judgment, no gossip, no false hope.” She concluded, sitting down by herself. The air was quiet but not filled with malcontent. Vespera and Helena exchanged a quick look and laughed. Vespera sat down, followed by Helena. 

“Mom, we both know it's too late,” Vespera said, grabbing the decanter and pouring the wine evenly into the glasses. It was a deep orange color, made from glowberries. Regina nodded, grabbing her glass and raising it.

“To discovering new truths,” Regina said. They all clinked their glasses together and took a sip simultaneously. It was quiet for a moment as they silently decided who spoke first. 

“I’ve never told you about your father, and now feels like the right time,” Regina said to break the silence. 

“I never asked,” Vespera responded, curious about where this was going. Although she hardly agreed that this was the right time.

“His name was Clio, and his wings were very similar to yours. He was a Green Macaw,” She said gently. Vespera looked at her sideways. Why did that sound familiar? She'd never met someone with macaw wings other than Scarlet. However, she felt like she’d read it, perhaps—the Great Green Macaw. Was she adding the ‘Great’? Between Dale’s fact sessions and her readings, Vespera was sure she knew a little about them. She stopped looking into parrot-mutts altogether after her experience with her mom.

“What? What do you mean? You told me he didn’t have any,” Vespera said defiantly.

“I was hoping you would take after me. No wings, the way my parents were.” She shook her head, “I was wrong to wish that. Seeing you two today… I remembered that. I remember that love,” Regina’s eyes threatened to start crying. 

“You knew how hard having these wings was for me. Did you think not telling me would make my feathers fall off?” Vespera asked, annoyed. Regina took a deep breath. 

“No, I didn’t.” Regina began, her voice low and unsteady. “Everywhere I looked, I saw him— in the home we built, the skies he loved to fly through, even the green of the trees. It was too much.” She dabbed at her eyes with her sleeve, her expression a fragile mix of pain and regret.

“When your wings grew in, I thought… maybe it would be different. But every time I saw them—those colors—I saw him. And I couldn’t handle it. I let that grief turn into something ugly. I let it hurt you.” She paused, her voice cracking. “For that, I’ll never forgive myself. My only daughter, I do not expect your forgiveness, but I promise, I will love the both of you the best I can.” 

Although her childhood was long past, Vespera didn’t forget. She thought back to when her mother would pre-make her lunches for school. She would make them the night before while Vespera was asleep, so she wouldn’t have to wake up to greet her in the morning. Vespera simply grabbed her lunch and walked to school alone. 

She remembered seeing her mother cry through the slit in her bedroom door. She was holding one of Vespera’s malted feathers. Vespera thought it was odd, one because she’d never seen her mother cry, and second because she was silent. Vespera couldn’t remember a time when someone cried without making a sound. It was the noise of her childhood, silence. If the TV was on, it had no sound. If Vespera played the radio in her room, she had to ensure it was quiet enough so her mother wouldn’t hear. Even the children who played outside sounded muffled.

Vespera remembered the article. The magazine she never returned sat on her bedside table, tattered but usable. 

“Your best was never enough. You are stuck in a past I had no part of. You let it define you and mold me. I needed you then,” she said, “not now. From now on, you will be nothing short of perfect,” Vespera said coldly. Helena sucked on the inside of her cheek, switching glances between the two. Regina bit her lower lip and nodded. 

“Nothing short, my love,” Regina said, smiling.

They got married in secret in the forest. Her friend from the library, who helped her figure out what kind of wings she had, officiated the ceremony. His name was Dale, and he remembered her immediately the day she walked into the library.

“Hey! I’m not sure if you remember me. I'm Dale,” he reintroduced himself. 

“Yes! Of course, I remember; it’s been a while. How are you?” Vespera asked.

“Good, good. I got a job here while I am finishing school. I’m trying to become a professor at the university. I want to do my own research first. How have you been?” He asked. Dale was a wingless individual who was a little on the skinny side and very tall. 

“Very impressive. I’ve only recently moved back. We should grab lunch sometime,” she asked.

“Oh, I’m sorry, I'm engaged!” He said with delight, “Her name is Aubrey. Hair dark as a moonless night. She's wonderful, but I don't think she’d like that very much,” he said skeptically. 

“You misunderstand me, I am also… In a relationship,” Vespera said.

“Perhaps a double date then!” Dale said enthusiastically. Vespera sighed and considered the offer. 

“Sure, sure, maybe sometime. I’ll have to ask, of course!” Vespera said quickly.

“Yes, I’ll do the same! And I’m here every day but Thursdays and Fridays, so you know where to find me!” He said with delight. “Oh, and that magazine, do you still have it?”

“Oh, um, yes, of course I do! Next time I come in, I'll be sure to bring it,” she lied.

“Great! See you soon!” he waved goodbye as he moved on through the aisles of the library. She let out a breath she hadn’t realized she’d been holding. He was nice enough, but she didn’t know him. He didn’t have wings. She couldn’t guess what personality traits he might have. 

Nonetheless, she told Helena about her encounter, and she agreed. 

“Are you crazy? Why would we go out? With strangers? In public?” Vespera asked her, exasperated. 

“Have some hope, would you? Not in public, here, at home. We can cook dinner and invite them over. Also, not strangers! You said you've known—” 

“Dale,” 

“Dale, for years! He never treated you differently because of your wings. He studies birds and doesn’t even have wings. Who does that other than people who want to help us?”

“Maybe he’s a nestchaser,” 

“Or maybe he's just kind. We could both use more friends! The worst he could say is no,” 

“He could do much worse than that, and you know it,” Vespera said. Helena sighed, cupping Vespera’s face with her hand. 

“If we live our lives in this kind of fear, we will never live a life,” Helena stated.

If it weren’t for Helena, they wouldn’t have become friends. She would’ve never learned that his father had him ordained in the Christian church. He left because he didn’t agree with the gods, which was funny. After all, neither did Vespera. Helena was a believer, but of Kriism, not Christianity. And she wanted a proper moonlit ceremony if she could get one. 

“It’s not exactly like we follow the rules of any Christian church,” Vespera whispered to Helena across the library table. 

“He offered that we could have it in the woods. A small ceremony at night, with just us! And Audrey… Your mom, of course…” Helena looked down at her hands.

“And?” Vespera asked.

“And Dale’s mom and dad. I met them a couple of weeks ago. They're really nice!” She whispered positively. 

“Are you serious,” Vesepera asked rhetorically. 

“And Dale’s kid. He’s only three, it’ll be good for him to see,” she said.

“Or a good way to get rumors spread!” Vespera said desperately. 

“Babe, I need you to be very honest with yourself for a moment. Look at your wings, then look at mine. The rumors started the moment we met. If a toddler repeats some of those, I don’t think anyone will be surprised,” Helena said. There was a moment of quiet between them.

“Helen, I need to tell you something,” Vespera whispered. Helena smiled and rustled Vespera's with her own.

“I already know. You’ve been nesting in bed for weeks,” Helena whispered back, smiling. “I just thought you had the flu, but… I’m guessing it’s good news?” 

“You can never let me have the shining moment,” Vespera whispered back, smiling. They rustled their feathers together under the table. 

“Because you are the shining moment, my love. You’re already glowing,” Helena whispered back. Vespera sighed heavily.

“Fine, a small ceremony in the forest,” Vespera agreed. Helena immediately started to cry. “Hey, hey! None of that now; we can talk more later. I’m supposed to be the emotional one,” she said as they smiled widely at each other. 

“You know my grandparents were first-generation nesters,” Her mom began, “that would make you fourth generation. We’re lucky to know our family from so long ago.”

“What? I didn’t know that. They were on the first mission?” Vespa asked.

“What? Oh gods no, how old do you think I am?” She asked. Although their relationship had improved, she noticed that her mom would still go long periods without looking at her directly. She would stare over her shoulder or at her feathers, but not look in her eyes. Despite this, she still smiled.

“Just clarifying,”

“It was the last mission, the Elric in Axis. At the time, we thought it was the only successful mission here. We hadn’t had any indication that the other rockets made it. I’m no scientist, but my grandpa was, or I think he was. There wasn’t much he could tell us, but he was a good man,” 

“Is that why he was picked to go?”

“I think so, he was important enough to be considered essential even though he wasn’t rich,”

“What about your grandma?”

“She was a teacher, and they traveled together. They also died on the trip here, but my parents made it in their place.”

“Why didn’t you start teaching?” Vespera asked. A lot of kids took after their parents to pass down knowledge. This was wildly important, she remembered learning about it in school. A lot of technology was lost on Earth, so word of mouth was one of our biggest sources of information. Of course, in the hundred-plus years since, texts have been remade and republished, and life on Terra was normal. Whatever was considered normal. 

“For honesty's sake, I never wanted to do anything. School was… difficult for me. And after I took over your father’s company, we had plenty to live by. Food and comfort came whether I understood the work or not. Instead, I ended up contributing to society by having you,” She said. This was something Vespera never thought about—the continuation of the ‘human’ race. Even pregnant, she never considered it her duty to have a child. It felt like a gift.

The ceremony went well, for the most part. Vespera had some moments of doubt. Was this a choice, or design? Were they soulmates, or did they choose to be? What if this were a big, dangerous mistake? Her worries weren't long-lasting, as she saw her bride emerge down the aisle in front of her.

Helena wore a long, yellow silk gown that tied around the back of her neck and buttoned up to where her feathers began. It clung to her skin like water as she moved down the pine-strewn covered aisle. In the setting sun, the semi-transparent pine needles reflected the light into uneven prisms, guiding her toward Vespera.

Vespera watched her every movement as she stepped before her, more gorgeous than the day they met. Her hair was longer now, pulled back into a low, messy bun. Her eyes met Vespera’s, and suddenly, it was the first day they had ever met. Laughing above the canopy. She began to cry. She hardly remembered the rest, only how beautiful her bride was, how her laugh sounded like nature speaking. And how her smile made her stomach flutter. 

After that was the awkward part; Vespera hadn’t noticed that her mother and Dale’s father were eyeing each other during the entire ceremony until after it was over. Despite there being only a handful of people there, they stayed on opposite sides the whole night.

“I knew him once, something like thirty years ago maybe,” Regina explained a few weeks later. “He was… A friend of your father. I never expected to see him again.”

“Really? He knew Dad?” Vespera asked inquisitively.

“Yes, he knew him better than anybody. Better than even I did, maybe. Our relationship was very complicated, and it’s not like it matters now,” Regina said.

“It matters to me; you’ve hidden the truth about him my whole life. Now, you tell me. Or I’ll go ask him myself,” Vespera threatened.

“My love, please calm down, give her a chance to breathe,” Helena tried to reason. 

“She had too many years for that, and I was forgiving enough for them all. Tell me,” She finally insisted. 

“Okay! Okay. Okay…” Her mother sucked in a large breath and scratched the back of her head, moving her hair to briefly expose where her ears weren't. 

“When I was young, I… was a lot like you, believe it or not. I had a friend, her name was Clement.” Regina pulled on the helionite chain around her neck, revealing the ring that rested on it.

“I always thought that belonged to dad,” Vespera said with furrowed brows. Regina shook her head.

“No, it’s mine. She gave it to me on our…” she hesitated, but eventually sighed, “anniversary.” Vespera and Helena looked at her in surprise, but said nothing, afraid the story would end if they asked questions. She would have to hold her curiosity.

“That same day she was murdered, and I was the one who found her.” Her mother said. Vespera’s eyebrows shot up in surprise. “Your father had been my friend since we were children, and after her death, he took care of us. Me, that is, he didn’t meet Tristan till…” She drifted, blinking while looking up, trying not to cry. They did not interrupt her as she regained herself, but Vespera lightly grasped her hand and smiled at her mother. Regina smiled at her and firmly grabbed her hand.

“He met Tristan when he started working at Bellforge. We got married eventually, Clio and I, but it wasn’t a real marriage. And even after Clio passed, my father-in-law kept his promise and gave me what would’ve been Clio’s position. It’s the only reason I was able to afford our lifestyle, but that's also all he did. He was a cruel man, but not a bad person. He kept his company away from the military by giving it to me. But I didn’t know how to run a business, and there never seemed to be much that came across my desk—only forms I had to sign. I never heard from him after the funeral. I only learned I had the job after his father passed away a year or so later. Good riddance,” She said with disdain on her lips. She began to cough. Vespera handed her a tissue and her cup of tea. Regina nodded gratefully and took a sip to settle her cough.

“What happened to him? Clio?” Helena asked. Vespera pushed her arm, and Helena simply shrugged it off. Her mom cleared her throat and set her cup down, crumbling the tissue in her hand.

“He was part of the draft. Actually, he was in the first group called. We all knew he wasn’t going to come home, but that didn’t make it easier, for me or Tristan. I pushed him away. Seeing him now, with a child of his own no less, made me realize how wrong I was. He should’ve been there when you were growing up, and I'm sorry I denied you both of that relationship,” Vespera was crying again. She was painfully pregnant by this point. All this new information made her want the baby out more than ever. Helena took her under her wing and held her close. 

“You don’t want to reconcile? After all these years?” Helena asked gently, wiping away Vespera’s tears. 

“I don’t know,” Regina said truthfully. She fidgeted with the ring that lay bare on her chest.

“Do you think he wants to?” She asked. Regina nodded a bit.

“I’m sure he would. I don’t know if I want that forgiveness just yet,” 

“Maybe he doesn’t forgive you,” Vespera piped up. Regina bit her lower lip and nodded slowly.

“I know that too,” she said in a small voice.

“Then you'd better figure out which it is, before you leave him again,” Vespera said coldly.

They did find their forgiveness in each other. Although Tristan had married, his wife seemed to understand the relationship they had. It seems he was much more open with his family than her mother had ever been.

Vespera noticed her mother sneaking out of the house to have dinner with him occasionally. After Tristan found out about Regina’s diagnosis, he visited her frequently at home instead. When she was put into hospice care, he visited her there, too. 

When the day of her funeral came, he spoke a few words as well. And he stood longer than the rest with the help of his wife and son. He wore Regina's ring around his neck. Vespera gave it to him after her passing, to remember her by.

“This ode is not of my faith, but is still of good faith. It reminds me of her. Let us recite and pray,”

When the earth was made, the Gods sculpted us from the same mound of clay,

When you stepped on sand, glass was made from the love in your souls,

When we are made again, I hope to be born from your stardust,

May the Child help her remain joyful in burial, 

May the Daughter guide her to her place among the crops, 

May the Mother tend with care to her creations,

May the Gods find her and bury her in the Gardens of Paradise to grow anew.