(Leo)
***
During the ceremony, I didn't have time to talk to anyone, much less Sinclair. (Even though they came to check on me periodically, they had to tend to a few other things for Inei and Hikaru while present.)
The magic I performed was quite simple yet deceptively tedious (but still nothing in comparison to time manipulation), a mere reversal of a complicated spell from before. The trip back was always shorter than the one there, after all. Though, after the monumental nature of everything that had happened, even the grandeur of the ceremony felt peculiarly underwhelming.
That rush of relief did not hit me like a sharp axe. In the end—if all the ends had *truly* been tied up—it was only a soft exhale. It was a mystery how something that consumed my brain like a nightmare disappeared when I opened my eyes, seeing the world for what it was.
To me, it was covered in a sunset dyed in warm colors, rosy hues masking my vision.
But it was a whole world at last.
No half existed apart from its whole form anymore—physically speaking. Mirai was back together, and the cycles of the sun and moon were restored. I felt a twinge of emotion thinking about that, considering how normalcy was one incantation and a few words of affirmation away this whole time.
There was little purpose for me in the meantime; though, with the natural order of things, I was certain my abilities would come back into play in the near or distant future. (I had a hunch about when I'd be needed next, envisioning scattered rose petals painting aisles and stacked cakes with little romantic dolls.)
**
"How was it?" Sinclair said in a soft voice like a lullaby as they came from behind me on the castle's balcony while I quietly sulked over the ledge.
I knew their question was full of implicit cajoling.
"Not too difficult. Can't be any harder than you getting all those stones last week."
"Hm. The stones weren't too hard to get either."
Walking up beside me, they smelled faintly of alcohol again. They did not seem intoxicated to the point of being incoherent, only a slight bit mellower than normal and less uptight.
It was then I finally had a chance to glance at them. Their dress wasn't the usual ornate sort of top most nobles wore, but they instead had on a laced blouse common on men outside of the palace. The white color made it almost transparent, and for a moment, with the quick flitting of eyes, I noticed something akin to a black corset hiding under the fabric, snuggled between the strings on the front so that it was out of view without a close examination.
I chuckled at their comment—a bit cynical. "That's true when you get lucky and find a pile of amethysts just sitting around. At least I didn't need anything special this time, and it doesn't drain me *too* much. It sucked trying to separate everything in the first place."
Over the railing, I started moving my hands around in the air, apathetic about tipping over the edge when I could fly. "Like, where does this tiny rural town that looks like ten others go, and where do I set these ugly bushes that haven't been trimmed in weeks? Things like that."
Laughing, they placed their arm around my waist to pull me closer. They used the other to prop their head up so that they could gaze at the skyline. "It sounds like one of those toy model things kids like to play with."
"Except it's less funny when the little figurines are people."
"I think that makes it more interesting," they said to me afterwards.
What a strange answer, though it suited their cupid tendencies.
We were both captivated by the swirl of colors in front of us, not taking our eyes off what proved to be a rare sight for the past year. It was something so easy to overlook in normal times, yet it was deeply impactful when it became obscure.
"Mm. How was work today?"
When I asked that, I took my focus off the blinding landscape in front of us to look at Sinclair. I had not seen them in that lighting before, and the contrast of colors suited them well: sparkling, wet lips like rose quartz; chestnut locks with warm reds hidden in the pigments that were brought out by the cooling horizon; and contemplative irises in marbled magenta and blue, spinning indefinitely as if kept that way by inertia or some other enigmatic force.
"Not any harder than any other day with an event," they replied before clicking their tongue once. "It helped that people went out into the streets and shouted about it for me. I think I would call that free publicity. I have some stories about it if you want to hear."
They turned to stare me in the eyes as theirs turned completely coral and ceased their hypnotizing motion. I tried to match the intensity of their gaze for a moment, internally crouching back.
"I think I would."
There was too much otherwise conveyed without words, so much so that I knew almost exactly what they'd say next.
"Don't you want somewhere to sit then? Standing isn't comfortable." Their kind statements were laced with something else that I was in denial about even when I pinpointed it.
"You're trying to go to the Galaxy Meadow for the night, right?" I confronted them as they dodged the point.
I expected them to move forward, but they remained in place, instead cornering me with their eyes as they looked up at me.
"Precisely," they said—between being needy and menacing. "You told me you would let me come."
"I did."
Finally, I halted the staring contest and broke away from them, glancing over my shoulder and enticing them to follow with little emotion as I retreated inside the castle.