Sunset ^beta

Malaya didn't know how long she dreamed. Of sand and snow, of blue skies and purple rain. Of drifting endlessly across the water and over the horizon. Of Castti gently brushing a hand across her cheek and leaning in closer for a kiss. If this was to be her final dream, it wouldn't be so bad, she thought to herself.

Yet the pain didn't stop. Her skin still burned and she often tasted blood at the back of her throat. Sometimes the pain eased, and during those times she could almost swear she felt Castti's gentle touch. Sometimes she wanted to scream, but the tears never came. She tried to cry out for Castti, for Elma, for Andy and Randy, for anyone who might hear her, and again those gentle hands would soothe her.

What a long time, she thought in idle moments of lucidity.

After a moment, or perhaps an eternity, she forced her eyes open and found herself staring up at an unfamiliar ceiling. She raised her right arm, heavily bandaged, but could not tell how far away the ceiling was. She tried to sit up, but pain shot through her entire body and firm hands gripped her shoulders.

"No, you shouldn't move yet," came a feminine voice, unfamiliar. "But it's a good sign that you're awake."

Malaya allowed those hands to guide her back onto the bed sheets and tried to speak, but no words would come. The vague shape of a woman only shook her head, and Malaya could not yet make out any of her features. This presence almost felt like Castti but not quite.

"You've had a rough time," the unknown woman said, and she sounded so very far away. "I almost thought I lost you. But these old hands are still good for something…"

Malaya slipped in and out of consciousness the next several days. How she managed to eat and drink, she didn't know, but the woman caring for her was incredibly patient. She still dreamed of Castti often, of an unconscious Castti drifting beyond the horizon in that little boat. It hadn't been enough, Malaya knew, but it had been all that she could do.

Eventually Malaya's symptoms subsided long enough for her to remain conscious for a few hours during the day, giving the elderly apothecary time to introduce herself. "My name is Yasmine," she said, and Malaya could make out her face a little more clearly now. "I used to be a traveling apothecary, but I've since settled down here in New Delsta. A group of merchants, my daughter among them, found you collapsed near the anchorage and brought you here. I must say, it's a miracle you managed to survive." She hesitated a moment. "Unfortunately, we couldn't save your horse."

Malaya tried to speak, but her voice was still hoarse from days or perhaps even weeks of disuse. She frowned; how long had it been since that fateful day?

Yasmine clutched her hand to her chest. "My daughter said it was awful, an entire town to the north wiped out! Rumor has it that it was a rogue group of apothecaries, but I cannot believe that. No apothecary worth their salt would do such a terrible thing."

Trousseau did just that, Malaya thought to herself, and still she couldn't understand why. She had so many questions - was there anyone else found with her? Was there any news of Timberain's royal coronation? But again her voice failed her. Most of all she wanted to inquire about Castti. Had Castti reached safety? Or had Malaya condemned her to a slow and lonely death of dehydration and starvation? Tears stung at the corners of her eyes; she'd had no other choice but to send Castti out to sea and hope for a miracle. If only she wasn't so weak, she could seek out Castti and together they could stop Trousseau…!

Yasmine laid her hand over Malaya's. "You survived, my dear. That's what matters now."

Again Malaya wanted to scream. What use was her surviving if Castti hadn't? But she had to believe. That was all she could do now.

Her voice returned to her in time, and eventually she was able to give Yasmine her name and explain that she was an apothecary too. She said nothing of Eir's Apothecaries - if there were already rumors of rogue apothecaries poisoning an entire village, she didn't want to risk arousing suspicion. More than once, she thought of telling Yasmine of Trousseau's plans for Timberain, but even if Yasmine believed her, would such a message reach Timberain in time or would it just be dismissed outright? Or would Yasmine end up tarred by the same rumors that plagued Eir's Apothecaries?

Malaya could only hope that such rumors had not made it across the sea, so that Castti could stop Trousseau without hindrance. That was, if Castti had survived.

Nights were still filled with guilty dreams. Always the dreams began pleasantly, her holding Castti, kissing Castti, but sooner or later, Castti's hands would slip from hers as she was consumed by that purple rain. Farther and farther Castti would drift out to sea, alone and unconscious, and no matter how hard Malaya swam, she could never catch up. Often she awoke drenched in sweat.

Yet she recovered, slowly but surely. She could sit up and eat unassisted, and although she couldn't see much out of her left eye, she still made an effort to read the New Delsta Times as often as she could, waiting for any news of Timberain's upcoming coronation. Yasmine helped her exercise her arms and legs, but she looked away when Yasmine changed her bandages. She had seen worse treating patients, she knew, but the sight of that blotchy, purple scarring on her own limbs was still too much to bear.

"We'll be able to get you out of bed soon," Yasmine told her one day. "It'll be a nice change of pace from this room."

Malaya smiled, not trusting herself to speak. She had lost track of how long she had spent surrounded by these four walls. She had helped patients through physical therapy before, so she had thought she knew how grueling it could be, but it truly was a different experience being the patient for once.

She could almost laugh at herself. What would Castti think of her just now realizing something so trivially obvious?

Some days were better than others, and Yasmine was endlessly patient, even on Malaya's worst days. However, when she thought of Castti and how disappointed Castti would be in her, she resolved to do better. Yasmine, for her part, often asked Malaya about her time and skills as an apothecary, but never tried to pry into her personal affairs, and for that she was grateful. Someday she would be willing to speak of Eir's Apothecaries again, but not yet.

(Still she had nightmares of Trousseau in that strange costume, laughing and screaming as that vile purple rain fell and his compassion wrapped beyond imagination. Castti and Andy had initially been reluctant to allow him to join Eir's Apothecaries, worried that he didn't have the fortitude for it, but Malaya, Randy, and Elma had insisted. How she wished she could turn back time.)

Weeks passed, and as she continued her recovery and physical therapy, she continued to read every issue of the New Delsta Times Yasmine brought for her. There was still no news of Timberain's royal coronation, but every so often a certain name - Partitio Yellowil - caught her attention. It sounded familiar, but she couldn't quite remember from where. Whoever he was, he certainly had grand dreams, and she could appreciate that.

One day, Yasmine deemed her strong enough for a walk outside. Her left leg hadn't fully healed, so she now needed a cane, and she also wore an eye patch over her ruined eye. She would carry these scars for the rest of her life, but that she was alive at all was nothing sort of a miracle, one that she was grateful for. Gripping the head of her cane tightly, she followed Yasmine outside.

The sight of the blue sky alone was almost too much at first. Obviously she had seen the sky from her bedroom window, but being outside again for the first time in so long was like being reborn. Tears stung at the corners of her eyes as she inhaled a deep breath, tasting the crisp spring air. Somewhere under this same sky, Malaya could only hope that Castti still lived too.

Gently Yasmine touched Malaya's arm. "Just once around the block, all right?" she said.

Malaya nodded. "I understand."

Being near Healeaks, Malaya and the rest of Eir's Apothecaries had often visited New Delsta. Andy and Randy had enjoyed the bustle of the larger city, while Elma and Trousseau were often less than impressed with all the noise and clamor. The neighborhood in which Yasmine lived was fairly quiet with a decent amount of greenery. Here the buildings weren't as tall, although no less tightly packed.

Malaya had gotten used to walking with a cane, more or less, and she moved carefully, wanting to take in all the sights. A cat sleeping in the shade of a small tree, two women holding hands as they passed, a father carrying his daughter on his shoulders - even this small portion of the city was full of life. If Trousseau's poison had just been a bit stronger, would New Delsta have suffered the same fate as Healeaks?

"Are you feeling well, Malaya?" Yasmine asked carefully. "You're clenching your jaw awfully tightly.'"

"Oh, I'm fine. It's just…" Malaya hesitated, her fingers tightening around her cane. What more could she do? She was in no condition to travel to Timberain herself, and she worried any letter she wrote wouldn't be taken seriously. But as long as Castti was alive, she would find a way to stop Trousseau and save the kingdom. All Malaya could do now was have faith, and someday she hoped to tell Yasmine the whole truth. "I was just reminded of someone very dear to me. I hope she's doing well…"

Yasmine smiled. "If she's a traveler like yourself, perhaps she'll find her way to this city eventually."

Malaya chuckled to herself. What a pleasant surprise that would be. Again she remembered the warmth of Castti's touch and kiss, but then saw again the sight of an unconscious Castti drifting alone beyond the horizon, and guilt needled her heart. She'd sent Castti adrift with no guarantee of rescue, but that had been all she could do.

She was exhausted beyond measure once they returned to Yasmine's home, but that wasn't the only reason she cried herself to sleep that night.

By now Yasmine bringing Malaya the day's edition of the New Delsta Times was routine, and every day prior there had been no news about Timberain, so she nearly set aside the paper with only a brief glance, but then the word "coronation" caught her eye.

Her hands trembled as she carefully read the article. The coronation in Timberain had concluded without incident, thanks to the valiant efforts of a determined apothecary. "No, it wasn't just me," the unnamed apothecary was quoted as saying. "We saved them. Eir's Apothecaries."

The paper slipped from her hands, and she couldn't stop her shoulders from quaking. She hadn't failed. She had saved Castti, and in turn Castti had saved countless lives. Malaya laughed as tears rolled down her cheeks; Castti was alive. All her hope and faith hadn't been for naught.

She rubbed her eyes with her sleeve. Likely Castti thought her dead too, and as she was now, she had no way of contacting Castti. What became of Trousseau, the article didn't say, but she hoped he was at some kind of peace too. The tragedy of Eir's Apothecaries could never be forgotten, but Castti's words and deeds ensured that their creed would be remembered.

Slowly she stood and grabbed her cane, and she went over to the window and pulled open the curtains. The dawn seemed a little brighter this morning.

Afterwards, Malaya would not remember if she had been awake or asleep during that long night. When first the sun didn't rise, she supposed she must've been dreaming. She dreamed of Trousseau in that birdlike mask of his, of Andy and Randy burning to death to put out that vile fire, of carrying an unconscious Castti down the mountain path and finding Elma's lifeless body beside Jeyah. She dreamed often of those moments.

But then the dream changed. As she lay Castti in that small boat, she realized Castti was no longer breathing, and her skin was covered in that unnatural purple bruising. She tried to give Castti more snowdrops and santanejo blossoms, but to no avail. Tasting blood in her mouth, she laid her hand over Castti's chest to feel a heartbeat, but there was nothing. "Castti… Castti…!" she cried, shaking Castti's body.

This wasn't how it was supposed to be…!

Her vision blurring, her knees gave out and she collapsed against the side of the boat, and still Castti didn't stir. Tears rolled down her face, burning as that purple rain did. She reached out a shaking hand to caress Castti's cheek, and already the skin was cold.

The rain kept falling, and the dawn didn't come.

How long she dreamed, she didn't know. Castti was gone and darkness surrounded her. She tried to run, but only stumbled upon the lifeless, mangled bodies of people she had met in her travels as part of Eir's Apothecaries. Andy and Randy, Elma, Trousseau. Mao from Sai. Rosa and Melia from Winterbloom. That young man in a yellow jacket buying medicine for his ailing father in Oresrush. Yasmine, who had cared so patiently for Malaya while suspecting nothing of her connections to Eir's Apothecaries. All of them dead, hoping in vain for a dawn that would never come.

Perhaps Trousseau was right, that death was the only true relief from suffering…

"Malaya."

She lifted her head, and before her stood Castti, barely visible against the blush of the dawn. In her hand she held a snowdrop flower. She knelt before Malaya and asked, "Do you remember what snowdrops symbolize?"

Malaya tried to speak, but the words died on her tongue as her eyes watered. She was still dreaming, she knew, and too often Castti had slipped away from her, sailing alone beyond an unknown horizon.

Yet Castti simply smiled and reached out her free hand to cup Malaya's cheek. "They symbolize an unbreakable bond," she said, and she kissed Malaya.

When Malaya awoke again and a new dawn greeted her, she could not help but weep.

A year had passed since that long night. Malaya hadn't left New Delsta in that time, and she now knew the city like the back of her hand. She often helped Yasmine with apothecary work, even if patients sometimes stared oddly at her because of the eye patch she wore; her left eye never fully recovered, and getting used to the reduced depth perception had taken longer than adjusting to her cane. Hers and Yasmine's work often took them to the backstreets of New Delsta, which had begun to thrive greatly this past year. Rumor had it that the criminal organization that once ruled these backstreets had fallen apart since that long night. There was still much to be done, of course, but the two famous dancers of the New Delsta Theater often donated their time and money to improvement of the city.

Now that she had recovered, Malaya thought of traveling to find Castti again, but each time she hesitated. Not only did she have no idea where to begin looking, she wasn't even sure she wanted to travel any longer. She'd confessed these worries to Yasmine once, and Yasmine had simply told her she would always have a home here in New Delsta.

Perhaps someday they could visit the remains of Healeaks together and maybe even aid in its reconstruction. After that long night, she had told Yasmine what she could of the fall of Eir's Apothecaries and Healeaks, and how Castti had saved an entire kingdom. Yasmine had smiled and said, "So your faith in your dear friend was true. That's good to hear."

Malaya had yet to tell Yasmine the full depths of her relationship with Castti. It had been over a year since last they saw each other, and Castti likely thought her deceased with the rest of Eir's Apothecaries. What if Castti had fallen in love with another in that time? Her chest ached at the thought; even so, what was most important was that Castti was alive.

The city of New Delsta was always bustling, but more so than usual today, Malaya noticed as she walked the streets. A poster proclaimed an upcoming performance by dancer Agnea Bristarni, who had dazzled crowds at last year's Grand Gala in Merry Hills. Malaya knew little of dancing, but she found she rather liked the bright smile depicted in these posters of Agnea. For one as young as her to already stand alongside superstars such as Dolcinaea and Hermes, she must've been quite the exceptional dancer too.

Maybe the memory of that long, unnatural night was still fresh in her mind, but seeing such crowds warmed Malaya's heart, even if some of the sights were rather… unusual, to say the least. (Was that woman on a horse in the middle of the city? And that white lion had to be some kind of prop. She gave it - him? - a wide berth nonetheless.) This was the kind of life Eir's Apothecaries had wanted to protect. All around her people were excited, and she found herself smiling as well.

Unsurprisingly, she still had nightmares. She wasn't ignorant of all the suffering in the world either. Yet that was all the more reason she had to do what she could. Trousseau was wrong - oblivion wasn't salvation. For as long as she dew breath, she wouldn't cast aside the hope Castti had given her.

As she came closer to the theater, a scent of snowdrops caught her attention, and she froze. Someone behind her inhaled sharply, and slowly she turned around, her heart racing. Her fingers tightened around the head of her cane; maybe it was only a dream, but it was a far more pleasant dream than any she had experienced recently.

Castti stared, wide-eyed, and she wore that familiar blue of Eir's Apothecaries. Her satchel, well-loved and well-traveled, hung at her side. "Malaya?" she said carefully, her voice barely more than a whisper. On the lapel of her uniform was embroidered the outline of a snowdrop flower.

Malaya's throat went dry. She had hoped to see Castti again, more than anything, but so unexpectedly like this, she hadn't the time to compose herself. Hesitantly she reached out her free hand to Castti, and just as hesitantly did Castti take that hand to cradle against her cheek. She was so warm, Malaya couldn't help but notice, and the sleeve of her tunic hitched just slightly, revealing blotchy purple scarring much like Malaya's own.

"It's been a while, hasn't it?" Malaya said, finally finding her voice again. Perhaps she could've said more, but such a simple statement would have to suffice for now.

Castti's eyes watered, and then the two of them embraced each other tightly, as if afraid the other would vanish. They both spoke quickly and breathlessly, and then laughed and cried. The feel of Castti's arms around her, and her own arm wrapped tightly around Castti's back - Malaya had missed this warmth so much. She didn't care that the two of them were standing in a public street; she only wanted to feel Castti as close to her as possible.

"I remember… I remember everything…" Castti muttered against Malaya's shoulder. "I thought you were dead… I'm not dreaming, am I…?"

"If you are, then so am I." Malaya chuckled weakly. "I was saved by an apothecary named Yasmine. She's been taking care of me this past year." She paused a moment. "When I heard what happened in Timberain, I was so happy to see that you were still alive…"

"Because of you." Castti pulled away from Malaya to meet her gaze. "You saved me, Malaya. There's… there's so much I have to tell you…"

The understatement of the century, Malaya thought to herself. She could scarcely imagine all the Castti had endured in this past year. They sat together on a nearby bench, their fingers linked, and silence fell over them. Where to begin, indeed. Malaya had so many questions for Castti, and she imagined the same was true of Castti. The way Castti stared at her now, with a mix of fear and relief, made her chest tighten. This past year, Castti had thought her dead and grieved for her, and now so suddenly she had returned, much like a ghost. Neither of them were the same person they had been a year ago, but she still wanted to hold onto the promise of healing between them. Castti's fingers tightened around hers, and she returned that squeeze with one of her own.

Malaya inhaled deeply and finally broke the silence. "How about you begin by telling me what brings you to New Delsta?"

A soft smile came upon Castti's beautiful lips. "I'm here to see Agnea's performance," she said calmly, as if the two of them hadn't been apart for a year. So easily could they fall into a familiar rapport again, and the hope in Malaya's heart grew stronger still. "It's been a while since we've seen each other."

"Wait, you mean that Agnea Bristarni? You two are friends?"

"As I said, there is so much I have to tell you." Castti's smile grew mischievous. "It was quite the interesting journey."

Malaya could only shake her head, laughing. This was no dream; Castti stood before her, wearing that familiar smile she loved so much. "You'll have to tell me everything after her performance."

"Of course. It won't be easy, but… you deserve to know everything." Castti stood and offered her arm to Malaya. "But first, shall we be off?"

As Malaya slipped her hand into the crook of Castti's arm, she closed the gap between them with a kiss, and Castti's lips were as sweet as she remembered. For as easy as it was to fall into old routines, so much had changed between them and grief was not so readily forgotten, but neither was hope. Together they headed toward the theater, and more than anything Malaya was grateful to live and see this new dawn.