Time Throws Fire
by Ophelia Everfall
Part One | Redux Eterna
Part Two | Polymath Blues
Part Three | The Feather
Part Four | Wizard
Part Five | Coward’s End
Part Six | Whirls of Wind
Content Warning: This is only a story.
Part Three | The Feather
Chapter Twenty-Two
Returned was Rory and Echo was without daughter. Fury bought purchase in the heart of a girl so struck by their beauty. Something tender beneath fury of form only felt by the heart of these women attuned. All they’d seen and done to each other had changed them—makings of two people uniquely designed for synchronous living and thriving—some bored tunnel to chest and sun.
Sightings of conundrum would always be witnessed upon first meeting. Embarrassments releasing to windblown meadows. Branches clashing in claps and stretches of thought.
Gaps of fight between them had been the falsest key to holding their passion. Being taken in would release Echo from what she’d lost herself to. Rory would surround her with their presence. They were her stabilizing force before disappearing. Looking a truer visage of love down at last, Echo understood how much time together had been missed for their closeness to her heart. Aboard Sanctuary—feeling her so deeply throughout—knowing it a desired place to somehow make things right for this constantly reborn woman—she’d never realize how much they might speak to her own heart in time.
Grip of her hair had set the women to stillness. Echo’s lower lip was bit and bit again. She’d not find the urge to blink except for those instances it became too pressing she might never resist.
She was the most incorrigible thing.
They’d share gentle of touch of fierce natures. Simultaneity in spirit would circumvent this newest difference in form. At last, Rory had become the one who knew them best. Who would see through the veneer and realize that care Echo needed was most often far from what she’d ask. To kiss her lips—to feel their heart so close. It would change these women every time—adding more into themselves.
Echoes of conscious roaming found singularity with the unknowable sensation of trust—truth—and presence. To be wanted badly by someone she respected more into herself had always been what she sought, for them to earn it an impossibility to reason. To feel that care afforded by wisdom beyond which she might ease into. The deepest betrayal of self it would be to succumb to any other in the end. There were none but these who might meet each other together even handed. Princesses both—witches—sights shared beyond through feeling—waiting in their woods and homes, once hoping to draw back their own soldiers of war. It was together they’d find a better answer.
Touching Echo’s hardened formations of body would blow Rory’s mind towards a storm of gushing tornado. That ownership was false. Not to this one for the girl.
The near and real dominated future would shift thought into correction. Great sadness centered her on that departed—strangest proclamations from beyond—Echo’s foretelling of passed and thoughtful suggestion. Some part of her would move about in farthest space for response to her expanding and allow re-grounding from time in Ecatosh as she’d come to see nothing but the worst in people.
Rory was changing everything. She was everyone. It was in these moments of eyes so locked—one subsumed by gust and stone—other perplexed in her way as their disparate parts would engulf themselves into nothing.
Boldness struck and Echo kissed—she’d taken it then pulled back. Excitement was drawn from Rory and fear from the girl backing through their bedroom doorway. She wanted to see what might be drawn from within them and took back the space a moment beyond her entry—lip bleeding—smile cracked—glare would gleam in return. Echo’s body couldn’t help itself. She’d thrown it forward into her and couldn’t stop from the whimpered whisper. “Oh, mommy.”
She’d say it often. What she wanted to think could only be brought out by a most unique fire reflected. Thought was that one question which would take Echo to the deepest place of peace in Rory’s presence, only to be drawn out by something fierce and equitable and possessively intentional. ‘Me?’
Every second here in Rory’s arms—through their eyes—watching to know from the inside out; intravenously healing had begun. Those systems within biotics were churning code that soared in its sublime reflection of what was most pined toward. This part of soul she’d lost now returned. Parting confusion, she’d feel to the center of herself—her other right there—knowing mistakes would not be something she could write to reality.
Time having severed them—fate bringing the clock back for another chance. Echo needed to meet Rory to be truly successful in her life lived. The women they’d been from their pasts would be and remain.
Ripped sheeting was shown by some haste in the makings. Flung coverings fermenting beside and around. Echo was seeing everything importantly and as best she might yet losing track of a little housekeeping again didn’t seem a fright in this moment.
When Rory touched Echo’s face it was over. There’d not be a second spent apart from her lips that wasn’t felt in purest flowing of perfection. Losing herself with another who’d the gift to entwine so completely through empathy saw synchronicity forthcoming. Truest selves rising to be witnessed as what they were; a rarest pair who might reciprocate a transcendent and unconditional love.
The rarest thing. Signposts would show the way to those who’d listen and trust. Passions shared were visions beyond individuation and of connection. Clarity came from the rightness here.
Language was unnecessary between these two. They’d know each other so deeply by heart alone. These women chose everyone because they’d know themselves an only one to answer a call. How it was shown through others and more.
What they achieved with their longest kiss was exactly this—intuitive perfection.
