Broken Wings, Scattered Dust

You Fall Down to Earth and You’re Just Left There

I was back inside the Calamus again.  After Deluge had sang that one line—and damn, that mare could sing—the rising sensation had escalated to the exact same feeling I’d had during the Calamus’ dance.  The heady elation, the weightlessness, the levitation, the whole nine yards.  But that time, whereever it was I had ended up, I’d been alone.

“Deluge,” I said.  “Meet my dad.”

She looked at the spark hovering before me.  “Sir, I would shake your hoof, but...”

“It’s fine,” he chuckled, and he moved towards the spark in front of Deluge.  “And who might this be?”

“Zephyr, err...”

“Blue.”

She tried again.  “Zephyr, Blue, meet my mother, Flaire.”

“Pleasure to make your acquaintances,” Flaire said.  “And happy I could bring some color to your blue worlds.”

We all shared a laugh at that.  Blue did seem to be a regular color.  Maybe something to do with how...ambiguous it can be.  Blue, like the ocean?  Blue, like the sky?  Blue, as in depressed?  Blue, as in royal blue?  Blue, like ice?  I couldn’t think of any other color that was so...versatile.

“My husband couldn’t make it, I’m afraid,” Flaire continued.  “But thank you, Zephyr, for helping Crys understand.”

“Crys?”

“I told you, I changed my name,” said Deluge.  “Remember what...remember what Canzonetta called me?”

I did remember.  “Heh.  I can see why you changed your name, if you’re like me.  That’s...pretentious.”

She laughed.  “Yes.  Yes it was.”

“I can’t think of you as anything other than Deluge anyways,” I added.

“Good.”

I realized something.  “Deluge, is your m—Flaire, are you—?”

Deluge looked suddenly horrified.  “No, no, she’s not.  I’m not sure why she’s here, but...I guess you don’t have to be dead to be here, huh?”

I relaxed.  “I guess not.  Makes me wonder what you do have to be, though.”

“So,” said Dad to me.  “You did it again.  Resolution for another.  Quite a few anothers, actually.”

“It’s nothing new.  Except for the romance part.  I can do without that.”  I paused.  “And you’re welcome...Flaire.”

Her little star flickered briefly.

“Crys,” said Flaire.  “You understand now.  What drives Meridian, what he’s afraid of, where he’s truly comfortable.  You know he has to step outside of those boundaries now and then, but so do you.  And now you have.”  Her star moved to brush against her daughter’s cheek, and like Dad had done to me, Flaire’s touch siphoned all of Deluge’s stress away.  Her legs relaxed, she let her wings hang freely, and her hardened eyebrows softened.

“I’m proud of you,” Flaire whispered.  “And even if he’ll never admit it, your father is, too.”

A single tear rolled down Deluge’s cheek, rolling over her coat, sliding past her mother’s star, dropping off her chin only to fall into the abyss of light below.

“Thank you,” murmured Deluge, hugging Flaire’s star.  “Thank you all.  For everything.”

And when her tear touched the bottom, the magical sphere exploded into white ribbons to the tune of shredding paper, leaving behind nothing but a hollow, silent, endless black.  Well, that, a daughter, her deceased father, the end of one story, and the very beginnings of another.

End of Arc 1

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