empty seas

10

Ghibli’s Movies Art

This is a part of my Review Movie Magazine. You guys can download full magazine here: https://drive.google.com/folderview?id=0B2yKnX19Z-UldG81WHpVbkY2NUU&usp=sharing

There are a few things in life so beautiful they hurt: swimming in the ocean while it rains, reading alone in empty libraries, the sea of stars that appear when you’re miles away from the neon lights of the city, bars after 2am, walking in the wilderness, all the phases of the moon, the things we do not know about the universe, and you.
—  Beau Taplin
10

Hooded Crow

The hooded crow, with its contrasted greys and blacks, cannot be confused with either the carrion crow or rook. Except for the head, throat, wings, tail, and thigh feathers, which are black and mostly glossy, the plumage is ash-grey, the dark shafts giving it a streaky appearance. The bill and legs are black; the iris dark brown. Widely distributed, it is also known locally as Scotch crow and Danish crow. In Ireland it is called grey crow, just as in the Slavic languages and in Danish. In German it is called “mist crow” (“Nebelkrähe”). Found across Northern, Eastern, and Southeastern Europe, as well as parts of the Middle East.

Keep reading

When the sun rises in the west and sets in the east.

Originally posted by imstarkjr

When the seas go dry

Originally posted by yourwisehistory

And mountains blow in the wind like leaves.

Originally posted by daenerys-stormborn

When your womb quickens again, and you bear a living child.

Originally posted by thatonekimgirl

Then he will return, and not before. 

I really think Mirri Maz Duur called it. Her time in Essos has come to an end, and she has begun her life in Westeros. The Great Grass Sea is empty, since she took all the Dothraki. The Night King is headed for the wall, and it may come down. She may bear a living child. 

An open letter from Mateus’ Goblet Ward 12

And so I’m inspired to write my first, and hopefully only, tumblr post.

It’s come to my attention that certain cranky people are quite suddenly extra cranky about Mateus’ housing situation. That is to say: Mateus, which up until now has had the distinction of being the smallest server replete with open housing plots, suddenly has none left. This is in no small part due to the fact that SE has recently locked Balmung (among other worlds) and marked us as a “preferred server,” causing many from Balmung–which hasn’t even had so much as an apartment open in close to a year, if I understand correctly–to see us as the new promised land of milk and honey and housing. As such, we have officially unofficially been designated a secondary roleplaying server.

Do I feel sorry for Balmung’s housing woes? You know what–no. Not at all. They crammed something like 25,000 people on a server intended to hold about 7,000, assuming the population was appropriately spread throughout the datacenter. Which, okay. That was their choice! But people don’t seem to realize that it was a choice. Either you get to have the bustling community of dozens if not hundreds of characters everywhere you go and the rich market board full of any product you could dream of buying… or you get to have a small server with open spaces while tolerating an atmosphere I’ve heard described as “depressing” or even “skeletal” and a low-supply economy that may force you to be more self-sufficient than you’d prefer. They made their choice, and yet many felt entitled to have their bustling server AND open spaces of their own. SE did a fantastic job of obliging with the addition of apartments, which saw housing woes healed on basically every server but Balmung.

“But random internet person,” you say, “what does any of this have to do with Mateus?”

Many people feel entitled to own a house. They feel that even knowing there are only 2,160 plots (soon to be 2,880) on any given server, they can and should be allowed to go at their own pace and have free access to any content they like, including housing. They want a house of their own, but they don’t want to accept that lots of other people want it badly enough to work harder for it than they did. As such, when all the housing plots evaporate out from under them on account of people who wanted it badly enough, they get upset. And they find other places to direct their irritation–soandso is denying me a home–instead of directing it inward. At the end of the day, that upset person has had literal years to acquire a house of their own. Now that opportunity is lost, and it’s no one’s fault but theirs.

So Mateus is out of houses, and people are complaining because they feel like they lost out forever. That now they’re at the mercy of vicious plotflippers or camping for auto-demos. That this dream that hasn’t mattered to them enough to act on will now never come true.

“But random internet person,” you say, “what does any of this have to do with you?”

Well you see, fellow random internet person, a fair amount of the hate people are feeling is being lobbed toward myself and my friend, because people see something we did as very unfair. They don’t have the courage to speak to us directly about this, of course, but they talk a lot of crap behind our backs, and we’re not stupid and find out about it.

A little about me first, so you might perhaps come to understand why I care so much.

I’ve played FFXIV a long while. I had a legacy character from 1.0, but I restarted on Gilgamesh on zero-hour of 2.0 beta phase 4, in which any character you created was going to be carried over to the real game. I watched as it grew to immense proportions. You see, it had been designated the official BlueGartr and Reddit and, somehow, generally raiding server. Gilgamesh was where you went when you wanted to get shit done. I didn’t pick Gilgamesh for that reason. My husband was friends with some people who wanted to be there.

So it was crowded, and I wished it wasn’t. I didn’t really have a basis for comparison, though, having only really played on Gilgamesh in 2.0+.

I obtained a house in Gilgamesh when the subdivisions were first added, which was not long after they were first-first opened up from being FC-only to allowing for personal homes as well. My house was in the Goblet–ward 8 plot 54. Despite there being plenty of homes available to choose from, I chose the last ward’s subdivision quite on purpose, looking to carve out my own little sanctuary of peace and quiet. Well, a noisy FC moved in next door that liked to trample all over my fence and roof, so… so much for that. Still, I loved that house and put a lot of effort into the decor, which was tons of fun. I like to think I did a great job, but everyone thinks that, I guess.

So fast forward a bit–we’re in Heavensward now. I started a project that called for leveling an alt with the same name and appearance of my main. I picked Behemoth. It was still a big…ish? server, but it was nowhere near the size of Gilgamesh, and I finally felt like… I had been holding my breath without knowing, and finally I could breathe. So when a third alt was required for my silly project, I actively sought out the smallest, quietest server I could and transferred/fantasia’d my old legacy character there.

That server was Mateus, and to me, Mateus was perfect. Mateus felt like home. Random encounters with people were rare but incredibly friendly, and with Mateus’ inflated economy, I soon bought a home of my own with the money I’d made from PotD drops. For my home I chose a literally entirely empty ward. That first night, I watched the Moonfire Faire fireworks for hours from atop my roof, over a sea of empty plots, feeling at peace.

That screenshot is dated August 11, 2016. Less than a year ago. Housing was released to Free Companies on December 14, 2013, and expanded to allow for personal purchases on September 16, 2014. And yet, nearly two years after literally anyone could buy a home of their own, on Mateus, many wards of the Goblet were like this. Even the more in-demand areas of Mist and Lavender Beds had areas that looked like this.

Mateus showed no signs of getting bigger. At all. Homes were bought by whatever newbies were curious to play with them, and yet they were being demolished at roughly the same rate, as people streamed away from this “corpse” of a server toward the promised lands of savage modes and ex primals and real economies. Meanwhile I spent more and more time on Mateus, to the point where my small cluster of Gilgamesh friends were concerned that I was on the brink of leaving. Because to me, Mateus was perfect. Mateus felt like home.

Around this time, I got to chatting with a lovely person from Leviathan with whom I share some unique/niche interests. In September, we started alts on Mateus together, and we bought them houses together in the Goblet. Ward 12, plots 14 and 20, across the Brimming Heart from each other. We made a free company for ourselves, to share materials and gil, and when we leveled that up and saved up enough money, we bought ourselves the medium in the same area, plot 19.

We decided we really loved playing together–and that we really loved playing together on Mateus–so having no real attachments to Gilgamesh or Leviathan, we transferred our mains. And we bought them houses, too, once we were able to, seeing as how our savings had been wiped out by the transfer limits. But we worked together to earn the money, as we had the previous three homes, and we bought them. And we decorated all five houses together. Coming up with ideas, making lists, splitting up the work, placing things and playing with them until we got just the desired effect. It was the most fun we’d ever had playing this game. Our own tiny paradise, carved out just the way we liked it.

We finished those first alts to 60, and we started another pair. Because you see, our alts have a specific theme to them–a set of characters from this game, of which there are 15–and we wanted to have them all. It didn’t start out being about houses. We just loved making and leveling alts together. So I’d have 7 and my extra character for my side project, and she’d have 8. We had always planned it that way. And, well, we were only two houses away from owning all seven around the brimming heart, so we completed our collection when the second pair of alts hit 50.

Or so we thought.

We did some really amazing things with houses six and seven. Made rooms and scenarios unlike anything we had ever seen. Things we thought would be impossible with the items available in XIV. We had found our true love in this game, and it was decorating. We began to talk about what this or that character’s house would be like. When we wanted a break from leveling, we would pick a ward or five and ride around and look at every single house there. I’m serious, if you owned a house on Mateus at that time, we visited it. All of you.

The few other homes in our ward kept auto-demolishing. The mansion in 30 went first. We worked and saved and worked and saved, and it devalued and devalued for weeks, because there was no demand for it at all. We both had alts at 60 on another server–my aforementioned Behemoth alt, and hers elsewhere. We moved them both to Mateus and bought the mansion just before Christmas.

The next house to disappear was 27. That had been a cute little female elezen who always ran around in WHM AF, who was only like level 53ish… but one day their theretofore pristine chocobo stable stopped being cleaned, and a little over a month later their unsightly orange and blue default-colored house had evaporated. We only had three not-us neighbors left, and many of the other wards were in the same boat. We decided on an ambitious project given how disconnected our new mansion was to the Brimming Heart, where the rest of our homes were: we would claim the entire eastern half of the ward with our 16 characters, once they were all at least 50.

I mean, hell, clearly no one else wanted them. People were leaving, not moving in.

So we leveled and bought and decorated, leveled and bought and decorated. These homes were not just being claimed and left unused. They were, and still are, loved. We always go into a house with an idea. A theme. An intent. Furnishings are chosen with care. There are meanings in everything that no one will ever know but us. Symbolism. Look, we’re nerds, okay? The weirder it looks, the more symbolic its intent. Probably. These characters we’re paying homage to, we love them.

The next house to evaporate–and this was a huge surprise to us–was the mansion at 13. We knew for a fact the owner of 13 was still actively playing. He simply didn’t want the house anymore and let it go. He never did anything with it, so perhaps he just didn’t enjoy decorating as content. We knew exactly which character to put in it–someone who deserved a mansion but only had a cottage. Now that we had the chance….

So we took someone out of the Brimming Heart and moved him up there instead. And we were left with a hole where once there had been a sea of 17 beautiful matching black stone homes.

We wanted to fill the holes, and we still had so many ideas, and there were still at least a thousand empty houses on Mateus. That’s when started to make extra free companies and move certain characters around to new plots in order to expand on their ideas.

Today, there are no more plots left on Mateus.

But long before that happened, there were no plots left in Ward 12. We own 28 houses – 16 personal, 12 companies. Two of these thirty homes in the ward are not ours. We owned the whole ward even when this was posted, drawing sudden attention to the fact that this so-called corpse of a server had some meat left on its bones – food for carrion birds, should someone desire a feast.

And then SE closed Balmung and Gilgamesh, and Mateus was invaded. And suddenly, people care about Mateus housing for the first time in nearly three years. Suddenly, people think we are *the* worst people. Because how dare we enjoy the game in the manner we chose to enjoy it.

How dare we?

How dare you.

You, who finally deign to set foot in my home. You, who hated Mateus for all the same reasons I felt it was perfect. You, who would take away the last year of memories I’ve made with one of the best friends I’ve ever known. You, who don’t care about the fact that we have cultivated something unique, interesting, and amazing, because you feel it denies you the chance to throw up a hideous paissa wall and plop a chocobo stable and a garden plot in front of an otherwise unused black hole with Dragonsong screeching away in the background. You, with your head so buried in your cliques that you thought we came from Balmung within the last month and achieved all this thanks to SE’s allowance of free infinite gil transfers, not realizing we wanted to be here, that we love it here, that we worked our asses off for all this from nothing but the million gil each we were allowed to bring with us from our mains.

How dare you.

If you would look at something other than the placards in your impotent rage that the same FC tag is on a few of them, you just might notice you’re standing in one of the best goddamn wards in the entire game. But more than that, you might just realize you’re walking through the last year of our lives. You’re seeing what we love, our passion, our reverence, our teamwork, our achievement.

And you demand we just give it all up. Because suddenly, these houses that have been here for years waiting to be loved… suddenly, now, you want one.

No.

Anyway, you’re welcome to come look. We aren’t quite done. We have a few closed homes, even (to our shame) a couple of yards that still need done, and some homes that want for some added detail since the doubling of furniture slots. It’s all on hold for just a short while thanks to Stormblood. But we have ideas, plans… and we’ll be right back to our housing obsession when we’re done leveling our first few things to 70.

Please look forward to it. I know I am.

Final notes:

1- I don’t claim to speak for my friend. For all I know, she’ll be horrified I’ve posted this. If you take issue with anything I’ve said, take it up with me. My main is Seraph Altima.

2- We are not affiliated with any similarly named individuals on any other server. If you think you can send a tell to someone on Balmung and be speaking to me (or someone who can speak sense into me), especially after I’ve gushed about how much I love Mateus, you are an idiot.

3- As our houses are our passion, we are both happy to answer any questions you may have about our ward. Just talk to us.

4- While we do not roleplay ourselves, you are welcome to explore our ward and use it for any roleplay event or storyline you like. You have open and ongoing permission. If you take notice of the theme of our ward, you can see it’s a perfect place to go if you’d like to write something about your OC being tricked, lured, or tempted by something otherworldly.

5- I’m well aware I’m not going to change any minds with this. People will say “but we couldn’t save in time” or “but my friend just started” or “but if you love decor so much, why not give others a chance to love it, too.” But we built this together, and I’m not giving it up, and you’re not changing my mind, either. I just want my perspective out there, because right now we’re just being demonized. Every story has two sides.

6- If you really want someone to demonize, the people in Goblet 12sub – all those homes owned by FCless characters, whose homes are closed or, in some cases, entirely unbuilt – actually did what you thought we did. But you know what? Whatever. They still put the work in before those without homes.

If we make it through the night, if we make it out alive  ..
You said that you can save me
Don’t hope to ever find me
And I fear I’m too far gone  
.Pray for the dead.
I am the ocean, I am the sea
There is a world inside of me  

anonymous asked:

Uhm... I-I have a plot bunny for you. Kakashi and Obito where Obito is a water creature of some sort, like a selkie or a siren, and he meets Kakashi when they're both really young. Kakashi has a new best friend, but Sakumo (who knows all about fairies and their tricks, after the naga prince Orochimaru disappeared and broke his heart) is concerned. So, he asks to meet Obito, and is surprised that instead of a tricky fae he's just been tackled into the sand by a hyper child of the sea.

I TOTALLY MEANT THIS TO BE LIKE 600 WORDS WTF. OOPS??


Sakumo is just a little worried, that’s all.

He stands on the porch overlooking the crooked path down to the sea, twisting the chain of the pendant he normally wears around his fingers. It’s a bad habit, and he always thinks he might be loosening the setting, twisting the metal out of shape. Thinks of one day reaching down to touch it and finding the ruby gone, lost forever along the paths he walks. His heart clenches just imagining it, this last gift gone and never to return, just like the sly, beautiful, cunning prince who once pressed it into his hands.

That’s the reason he’s fretting over Kakashi, really. He’s seen the signs—bits of coral, sea glass from far shores, shells that can only be found in the deepest places, pearls larger and brighter than any that land-dwellers can reach without dying in the process. He’s found bits of seaweed in Kakashi’s hair, swept the sand from his room in the mornings when he knows it had been clean the night before. Watched the way he eyes the ocean as it breaks, with something very much like longing.

Sakumo’s sword rests on the chair behind him, cleaned and polished to a mirror shine. He hasn’t carried it with any regularity since Kakashi was born, but he keeps it in repair. There are too many dangers not to, and sometimes he can earn a few coins guarding a traveler on their way. It’s not something he wants to use now, in any way, but if Kakashi’s safety is on the line, he won’t allow himself to do anything less.

He thinks of Orochimaru, of waking one morning to an empty bed and an empty home. It’s impossible to regret any choices that gave him Kakashi, no matter how he still mourns both his wife, a dear friend if nothing else, and the naga prince who stole his heart, but—

But he wants to save Kakashi the grief that he’s felt all these years, of adoring a fey creature with a mind half-full of magic and too many dreams that leave no room for more human kinds of love.

Kakashi is stubborn, smart. He won’t listen to Sakumo, not at first, but Sakumo has to try.

He hears footsteps in the dirt of the path and drags his eyes up from the ruby in his fist. Kakashi a coming, steps light, a smile on his face and a string of fish dangling over one shoulder. They’re not fish that swim anywhere near these shores, but Sakumo smiles regardless, waves to his son, and allows himself to enjoy the way Kakashi lights up a little when he sees him.

“Kakashi,” he says warmly, leaning down to offer a hand up onto the porch, since Kakashi rarely deigns to approach from the front and use the stairs. “Did you have a good day?”

“It was decent,” Kakashi says decisively. There’s a flower tucked behind his ear, one the grows near the mouth of the river that empties into the sea. It’s a fair distance from the house, and worry twinges at Sakumo’s chest again. Too far for him to hear a call for help, should it come.

When he manages to wrestle the feeling under control, Kakashi is watching, dark eyes faintly narrowed. “Are you okay, Dad?” he asks, tipping his head. “You look like a constipated frog.”

There’s nothing in the world better for the ego, Sakumo thinks wryly, than having children. “I’m fine, cub. Just—wondering if you’ll ever introduce my to your new friend.”

Kakashi blinks, but doesn’t bother asking how he knows. For a brief second, he glances down at the ruby pendant Sakumo is holding, then away, and says with perfect disinterest, “If I’d known you wanted to meet an idiot like him, I would have introduced you weeks ago.”

An idiot? Sakumo raises a brow, but doesn’t try to argue; this is already more of a concession than he expected, honestly. “Well, maybe I was waiting for you to bring him up,” he says mildly, tries to inject it with the crushing parental disapproval via sigh that his own mother always used to devastating effect, and apparently doesn’t do too badly given the way Kakashi winces.

“It wasn’t a secret,” his son tells him witheringly. “And besides, I don’t have to tell you everything.”

Sometimes, Sakumo is absolutely, entirely certain that he won’t survive Kakashi’s teenage years. If he’s already like this at seven, there’s no hope left at all.

“No,” he agrees, and keeps his tone light. “Of course you don’t. But I like knowing about what makes you happy, Kakashi.”

There’s a long pause as Kakashi stares at him, evaluating his sincerity. Then he nods once, decisively, and says, “He should still be near the beach, because he’s a loser who never gets anywhere on time. You can meet him now.” He hurries inside, leaving the door swinging, to lay the fish on the counter, and Sakumo takes the opportunity to belt his sword around his waist and clasp his pendant back around his neck. Kakashi will notice it—Kakashi notices everything, much to his chagrin—but he probably won’t say anything.

Then the rapid footsteps are back, and Kakashi takes a flying leap off the porch to land in the sun-gold grass. “Come on, Dad,” he says impatiently, looking like he’s going to dart back and start tugging at Sakumo’s belt the way he did when he was younger. “Before he leaves!”

“I’m coming, I’m coming,” Sakumo protests, stepping down and following Kakashi’s path as he hurries back down the hill. Ignoring the track, Kakashi takes the shortcut across the stream, then down the steepest part of the incline, and hits the dune well ahead of Sakumo, who isn’t quite reduced to running just yet. He watches his son disappear around the edges of the dune, and when he rounds it Kakashi is already halfway to the water, though he’s finally walking again.

“Idiot!” Kakashi calls, pitched to annoy, impatient as anything, and Sakumo strangles a groan. The very least Kakashi could do not to get killed by a magical creature would be refraining from insulting it, so of course throwing around insults is the very first thing Kakashi does. It’s probably how he introduced himself, knowing him.

“I’m not an idiot, you jerk!” a voice shouts back. Young, Sakumo thinks with some surprise as he scans the water. There’s a flash of iridescent scales among the waves, and the next time one breaks it leaves a shape behind. A long, looping tail, dark blue with a sheen of orange-gold scattered throughout, flared, feathery fins streaked with the same colors, pale skin, dark hair chopped short. A siren boy, just pulling himself up on the sand, and the soldier in Sakumo is assessing, calculating, weighing the risk of a child who clearly hasn’t even managed to change forms yet.

The rest of Sakumo wonders what a siren boy, so young and without mastery of his own power, is doing alone on the surface, far, far away from any siren chorales.

Then he turns, pushing himself up to sit as he twists to face Kakashi, and Sakumo’s eyes track over the deep scars all up and down his right side. Cold certainty sets into his bones, and he releases the hilt of his sword as if it’s burned him. Sirens are vain to a fault, and scarred chorale members are usually driven out.

Gods, but how long has this boy been alone, cast out and thinking himself unwanted?

Kakashi and the siren are still bickering when Sakumo makes his way over to them, and it sounds angry and cutting and irritated, but Sakumo knows his son better than that. Kakashi looks fond, and even if Sakumo doesn’t know the other boy, he’s fairly sure that light in his eyes is the very furthest thing from hate.

“—wouldn’t have bothered,” Kakashi is just huffing when Sakumo nears. “But my dad wanted to meet you, and he’s the only reason I—”

“Your dad?” the siren interrupts, and his dark eyes are wide with excitement, clearly not taking any of Kakashi’s bluster to heart. “He wanted to meet me?”

“Of course I did,” Sakumo says lightly, and smiles as both boys jerk around to look at him.

“So slow,” Kakashi complains, crossing his arms over his chest. “Dad this is Obito. He’s an idiot, so don’t listen to anything he says.”

Sakumo rolls his eyes, just a little, but crouches down so that Obito won’t have to crane his neck looking up at him. “It’s nice to meet you,” he says warmly, watching those black eyes widen, and gods, the boy is adorable. Especially for a flesh-eating, sailor-drowning monster of the depths, but, well. No one’s perfect, and if Obito hasn’t drowned Kakashi yet the world at large is probably safe. On instinct, he reaches out, ruffling wet hair a little, and offers, “Would you like me to carry you up the hill so you can eat dinner with us? Those fish—you must be the one who caught them, right?”

Without warning, Sakumo’s arms are suddenly full of wet skin and slick scales as a baby siren wraps his arms around his neck and hugs him tightly. Sakumo overbalances, too startled to make a sound, but Obito doesn’t let go; if anything he clings tighter, and says in a tone that’s close to desperate, “Thank you! Yes! Yes, I really, really want to!”

Sakumo chuckles, picking himself up out of the sand. “Of course. The least I could do for someone who caught us such a fine dinner,” he says lightly. He gets an arm around Obito’s back, the other underneath the glittering tail, and hefts him up.

The fin still curls on the ground, and he hesitates, not wanting to drag it through the prickly grass, but before he can say anything Kakashi heaves a disgusted sigh and stalks over, hefting the feathery end up in his arms. “Can we just get this over with?” he demands, though Sakumo can see his cheeks are a little flushed.

“Bakashi,” Obito complains, flicking his tail slightly, and Kakashi makes a deeply offended noise as it slaps him in the face.

Sakumo hides a grin. That’s certainly not how he and Orochimaru interacted. And…maybe it’s selfish of him, but he’s a little glad Obito doesn’t have a chorale to go back to, that he’s alone. Maybe he won’t disappear on Kakashi just when he thinks their happiness is assured.

Before he can ask how in the world they met, small fingers are at his throat, touching the ruby there lightly. There’s a soft sound of wonder, and Obito looks up at him, expression startled. “This is the same necklace the trapped prince is wearing,” he says. “How does a human have it?”

Sakumo would swear his heart entirely stops beating.

Trapped?” he croaks when he can finally manage to draw even a partial breath again.

Obito tips his head, like the question confuses him. “Yeah. He’s been sleeping at the bottom of the forest river since before I was born. My selkie friend says her mom told her there was a battle with the sea witch Danzō, and an earth goddess and holy monk helped the prince but even though they defeated Danzō he trapped them in the forest.”

Nine years. Nine years Orochimaru has been trapped and sleeping and waiting to be rescued, so close at hand, but—Sakumo hadn’t known.

He looks towards the forest, a dark shadow on the horizon, and takes a breath.

Well. It looks like his sword is going to see a bit of use after all.

Rhys

-He wakes up as he had been washed up on shore, with no recollection of how he got there. 

 -This is a strange place, some sort of beach, with a forest behind it. The sun is barely up. Dawn. 

 -He begins to walk and walk. Minutes seem longer here, and he walks for what feels like hours along the shore. Never actually stepping into the forest.

 -Glimpses of a woman crying cross his mind. But he can’t make any sense of it. 

 -A feel of uneasiness starts to crept up on him as dusk is approaching. He senses that soon he must part with the shore and enter the forest, other wise he will end up walking through the same landscape for ever, never reaching something new. 

 -Dusk. He looks at the see one last time, trying to see what might be beyond the horizon. Sea or forest. It can’t be both. 

 -The waves are starting to crash and the sea becomes more violent. While the forest just grows calmer. 

 -He tried again but the horizon is the same. Perhaps if he saw something he could make up his mind. Perhaps if he saw something he would face the waves and dive into the now restless water. 

 -Nothing. 

 -Nothing. 

- Until he hears it: “Brother?” Then a pause “Rhys is that you? ” asks the same voice. The voice he thought he’d never hear again. He turns around to see her. And there she is, just as beautiful as he remembered her… with her wings, she has her wings. - He can’t move.. he can’t think straight. 

- “I can’t believe you’re here… come brother” she says as she extends her arm

 - She takes one step, just one to the edge of the forest. And while she’s doing that another figure comes into view. His mum also looks just as she was, wild and untamed, glorious and magnificent. Her wings are also where they should have always been.

- Her voice cracks as she says “It’s too soon my love, too soon for you to be here”. 

 - Rhys can’t believe it, one foot after another he makes his way towards them. Just once, he wants to hold them just once. 

- He walks right up until the edge of the forest and stops. 

- All it would take would be one more step, one more step to leave for his feet to be completely on the sand. But somehow this last step is the hardest to make. 

- He turned around to see the horizon one last time.. but still, nothing. On the other direction though, his mother and sister where there. - His decision lies in front of him. 

- “I am so happy to see you brother” she says while a genuine smile runs across her face. 

- His mother remains quiet.

- And only breaks her silence to tell him that she thought it would be longer until they saw each other again with a sad smile - He smiles at both of them and says “I’m ho-" 

- But before he can actually take that last step and finish what he was saying, he senses her.. that female he had only seen in a few glimpses through the day. He doesn’t see her, but he feels her deep in his heart. 

- Just one thought, just one name. Feyre. 

- His mother senses the change and says again "It is too soon my love, just too soon”. 

- He tries to argue but he feels it again, the female, the sadness, the emptiness… 

- The sea moves as if it were angry, impatience. 

- And in the midst of the overwhelming crash of the waves and the sadness he is now feeling, home. There it is. Clear as the images of his mother and his sister. Home.

- He turns to look at the see. The horizon is still the same, but now the crashing waves feel like home. 

- Hid mother sees the realisation come to him, and just says “we never left you, we are part of your home and always will be, but your true home is not with us. Not right now my love”. 

- The tide increases and now the sea is barely centimetres from his bare feet. - Tearing his eyes from the horizon he looks at them one last time. His sister, no logger stretching her arm towards him, simply say “go back Rhys, you deserve to be happy”. He looks at her as if it was the first time, he looks at her like he did when they first placed her in his arms when she was a few minutes old. He looks at her knowing he won’t be able to look at her again for a long long long time. 

- His mum, his mum stretches her arm out of the forest, making the wind blow stronger and the waves crash harder. He can see it pains her and moving her arm closer to him is requiring a lot of strength, even though it seems as normal as it ever did, but finally she cups his face with her hand and says “You, my love, more than anyone deserves to be at peace. Be at peace my love, be at peace with her. Go back home. When the true time comes, I’ll be here again”. 

- He takes her hand in his and kisses it. Each movement, even though they seem as swift as ever takes a toll on him. 

- His sister looks at him and with all the power he knew she always had in her grabs his free hand with both of her hands. 

 - It could be so easy. One step and all of them could stop being in pain. Just one step. But, with all his strength he takes both their hands in his and gently puts a kiss on each one. 

- He looks at them one last time and says “I love you”. 

- He turns around and after a few steps his feet feel the water, he keeps on walking, fighting the waves, and finally dives in. 

- To her, to home.