regret is the only diagnosis.

Kova spent many days bathing in the aftermath of her mother's death beneath the covers of the bed she shared with her sister. Most nights, she found herself unable to sleep, haunted by the ghost of everything Katherine used to be, the smell of her hair lingering betwixt the walls long after her departure. Her mother died a hero, and it humbled her. With Katherine's death came the crushing realization that Kova was left with a legacy no average person could fulfill — and, to her, she was the most average of all. She wasn't particularly strong, and her powers were wild and uncontrollable, to the point where she could barely use them, and Kova wasn't born with the fighting spirit that her mother was.

Sometimes, when she was alone, she'd muse over the idea of Vinnea being Katherine's daughter instead. She was born with that fire, that spark, that Kova believed she would never possess. Perhaps Vinnea wasn't born with it — maybe it was etched into her soul by the tragedy of her life. Regardless, it was something Vinnea had that Kova did not, and she found herself growing jealous of how much more like Katherine her sister was then her. The jealousy wasn't malicious in nature — in fact, Kova admired her sister as much as she envied her, and it made her strive for perfection. She spent most of her days after waking practicing her abilities in Orion's atelier, and with each passing day Kova saw improvement. For what she lacked in control, she made up for in momentum and stamina. Longevity came naturally to her.

When Kova would practice, her mind would often wander to the Cleansing. It was a dark spot in the kingdom's history, one many prefer to gloss over. She tended to think about that particular point in their antiquity a lot, due to her sister's involvement. It was incredible to her that a man as simple as Dionys, no greater a man than her father or Caito, could organize the ritualistic abolition of an entire group of people. Some speculate that he was threatened by the Nymphs' power — that their ability to control every element gave them a leg up on the rest of society.

Kova witnessed that power firsthand with Vinnea almost every day. While she was particularly skilled at utilizing the wind, the fact that she could still harness the power of fire, water, and earth made her an immensely competent fighter. Kova would often come away from their sparring sessions with burns, or lashes from her quick, well-timed bursts of air, or bruises from where the rocks she'd kick up would graze Kova's skin. When she was younger, Kova thought that fighting a legitimate fight with her sister would surely end in her death. She could always tell that Vinnea was holding back. A part of her was grateful, but only afterwards, when she'd be nursing herself back to health. During the fight, however, Kova would just find herself stewing in her on anger. She was angry that she had to learn how to fight in the first place, angry that she was no good at it, and, above all else, angry that not even her own sister thought she was good enough to really put the effort into besting her. Kova would give it her all each time, and each time she would lose. In the end, it didn't matter how quick she was, or how long she could hold out — all that mattered was that Kova was not in control of her magick, and Vinnea was. Control seemed to be the only thing that mattered.

Kova became obsessed with this idea of control — gaining it, maintaining it. The only comfort she had in those days were what she had always known: routine. She walked the same paths every day and spoke to the same people in the hopes that she could find solace in the things that did not change. It was in the spring that even her small comfort of familiarity was stripped from her, prompted by Orion's confession that she could no longer call the place that she once shared with her two loving parents "home". Following that, her only coping mechanism was a harrowing apathy. Orion's explanation funded only a surface understanding of what it all meant for her future.

Katherine had left when Kova was still young and forming memories, so her connections with her had been bathed in a childlike glow of innocence, one that she no longer possessed. She held steadfastly onto those memories, clinging to the way she could hardly recall the little things about Katherine. The fear of forgetting her mother didn't set in until later that day, when Kova realized she could no longer remember how her voice sounded when she'd see her off for the day.

After the night of Orion's confession, her sleep troubles only continued. Her sister and her slept together for the majority of our childhood, so she rarely had the experience of waking up alone. However, there's a morning Kova remembered vividly, in which she awoke to an empty bed, the sun shining through the curtains and casting an ephemeral glow across the room. Kova rose slowly, her hair cascading around her face, a few strands falling into my eyes. She swiped at them, her fingers producing a clear, wet substance. Upon further inspection, she realized they were tears and hurriedly dug her fingers into the corners of her eyes to be rid of them rest of them. At that point, it had been a natural occurrence for Kova to cry in her sleep. At first, the tears were due to nightmares. She would awaken in a panic, the physical manifestation of her distress burrowing into every orifice it passed, causing her to choke on the taste of salt and her own horrified screams. Orion would hold her, then, much to Vinnea's dismay, who would waddle into their father's room for some peace and quiet. However, Vinnea would always be right back in bed with me come morning, no matter what time Kova woke up.

The morning she wasn't, though, Kova found herself staring at the wall for a few moments, blinking the lingering exhaustion from her eyes slowly. It wasn't until an obscenely long time had passed that she realized Vinnea was nowhere to be found. In a haze, she checked every cranny she could imagine her sister fitting her lanky body into with to no avail.

After she had combed every inch of the house, she moved her search outside. When Vinnea needed some alone time, Kova would often find her at the village's edge, brushing up on her tracking skills or making mock traps. She figured this is where she'd find her now, but instead of going to her usual spots, something told Kova that she should focus her efforts elsewhere — somewhere more familiar to her. Before she knew it, the young girl's feet were carrying her to the woods. To the only direct line to the Isles de Gaia, an unclaimed territory that used to house the Nymphs as a place of refuge. The same place Vinnea ended up when her parents sent her away.

Sure enough, that's where she was, circumspectly inspecting a tree stump, as if determining whatever she was studying so hard would lead her to buried treasure. Kova stood behind her quietly with the knowledge that Vinnea knew she was there, but after a while the silence grew too large for Kova to manage, and she kicked the stump playfully. Though it wasn't very hard, the kick managed to jostle it free from it's position in the ground, if only for a second. "What are you doing?"

Vinnea peeked up at Kova, seemingly annoyed to be disturbed. "Checking out how old this tree was when it got chopped," she muttered, keeping her eyes focused on the stump. "If the foundation is compromised, I won't be able to lay any solid traps."

"What compromises the foundation?" Kova asked, tilting her head.

"Stupid things." A pause. "Like kicking it out of the ground."

Kova stayed silent after that. It was obvious her presence was just a distraction, but she enjoyed watching Vinnea work — it was like peering into another life, and though it was filled with struggle and uncertainty, it wasn't her own, and Kova appreciated the momentary relief she felt from witnessing how a person could survive a truly life-altering, horrible event. She spent the next few minutes thinking about what it must've been like to be five years old, unaware of where you came from or how you got to where you are, but still being forced to survive on your own. At least Kova had her father, and would always have him. Even when he was gone, the memory of Orion and his love would remain. All Vinnea had were flashes of a happy childhood, ones that she was reluctant to share with her sister. After all, those were the only things she could ever really call her own.

It wasn't until a little while later that Vinnea finished her project, silently wiping her hands on her pants to rid herself of the shavings and dirt that accumulated. Still kneeling, she looked up at Kova, just to see her face. She could tell that Vinnea didn't really want to talk, so she didn't force it on her, but Kova still smiled, just to let her know that it was okay. To her surprise, however, Vinnea actually spoke. It was quiet, almost broken. "What do you think it'll be like in Ciraesan?"

It was the first time they'd spoken of the move since Orion announced it a couple months before. It was only a few days away, and their stuff was packed almost completely into neat bags. The only thing that wasn't packed was Vinnea's stuff, which was far and few between. Kova shrugged, unsure of how to answer. She hadn't really thought about it. "I don't know." Her reply was succinct and truthful. Kova had ideas. She thought Cireasan would be scary and unforgiving, but also filled with magic and wonder. She had come to terms with the fact that maybe, somehow, this change would be good. A blank slate might've been exactly what she needed — to go somewhere she wasn't known as the girl who sat by the fountain. "As long as I have you and dad, I'll be okay. I know that."

"But what if you didn't have me?" Vinnea asked, following a brief pause. Kova's brow furrowed. Vinnea was prone to hypotheticals, mostly born of her own idled curiosity and morbid enjoyment of the worst-case-scenario, but this didn't feel like that.

"What do you mean?"

"What if he doesn't want me to come?"

A handful of things began to make sense. Notably so, the reason that Vinnea was so hesitant. The only person who was more unsure of their future than Kova was in that very moment was her sister, who didn't even have the comfort of looking back on her past with the fondness that Kova could. At the end of the day, Kova knew where she came from. In the world that they lived in back then, where you came from was all that mattered. Your family's legacy was something used to read you and what you were capable of like a map. Where you came from dictated where you were going. In the eyes of everyone besides Orion and Kova, Vinnea came from nothing and was going nowhere.

Kova sat down beside her sister, crossing her legs and resting her weight on her butt. Vinnea was having trouble meeting her sister's gaze after brazenly revealing the chink in her rusted armor. Kova placed her had on the small of Vinnea's back, applying just enough pressure to be comforting, but not to push her off balance and cause her to tumble from her knelt position. "You're my sister. Of course he'd want you to come. Why wouldn't he?"

Kova didn't realize until later, when her soul burned so bright the experiences held within it burst into view all at once, that this did nothing to assuage her sister's fears. Looking back, Kova felt she had all the time in the world to recognize that she wasn't giving Vinnea what she needed. I always thought it interesting how Kova could understand more about her life in the single moment of her transcendence into godliness than she did in her whole life.

Vinnea shrugged. "I dunno. I'm not his real daughter. Maybe it's just time for me to move on." A pause. Kova didn't know how to argue with her. In Vinnea's mind, blood was thicker than water, and she feared the boat that would take them to Ciraesan would not be able to carry her added weight across the sea. Vinnea had always been awful at distinguishing between the weight of what she'd been through and her own, however, and she was much lighter than she thought. So light that, sometimes, when the stars would align just right, and the vibrations of the universe all synced up into a roaring symphony, Kova felt like she was walking on air when she was with her.

Kova scooted closer to her sister. "Don't talk like that." Vinnea wouldn't lift her gaze, so the other stood and shifted so that she'd be in front of her. Though her sister was staring down at her feet, Kova leaned in closer to her face from above. "I can't lose you, too. I'd never let them leave you behind. Not again."

Vinnea chuckled, but it sounded more like a sigh. "I know. It's just . . . if you left, it'd be just me." There was a moment between them, when Vinnea finally cast her gaze to the trap she'd just constructed. "And this stupid stump."

Kova let out a little laugh and extended her hands to help her sister up. "I don't think dad'll let us bring this thing along." Her lips curved into a smile as Vinnea grabbed her hands and used her as an anchor to pull herself to her feet. "It looks like someone kicked it pretty hard."

Vinnea dusted herself off and gestured with her head back to the house. "Yeah, it's kinda ugly, anyway. Just like you." She playfully punched her sister's arm. "Let's get back. Our stuff is still all over the room. Orion's gonna have a fit."

Kova quickened her step so they were side-by-side and threw her arm around Vinnea. "He'll live," she almost bellowed, the half smirk expanding across her face as the sound of Vinnea's satisfied footfall echoing through the woods became etched into both their minds as the birthplace of their golden years.

Though there was a springtime chill in the air, the warmth in Kova's heart provided enough refuge for the both of them.