While We're Here

How does it feel to be fearless?

Amari held their sword, feeling its weight, the gold lining that seeped through them, a gift of light. They thought of the other stories that came long before, and other lives held together, a light flickering brought them back to the present. The feeling of a warm mug placed into their hands, soothing the ache in their fingertips. Amari glanced at Marcel, and remembered why they had to keep believing.

"You were missing yesterday." Marcel looked at them intently, brushing his hand over their arm.

Amari said nothing, stared down into their tea as they took off their bracelet, where the colors were fading away, pressing it tightly against the glass, closing their eyes for a moment.

"I was planning our next adventure." They drawled.

Amari looked up to where the rest of their friends sat nearby, with their chipped teacups all sitting in a circle. Andre still wore his helmet stubbornly, arms crossed and unmoving to stay as the statue, while Eris swatted at the helmet while they bickered silently. They were supposed to be working on the small town, but the blocks remained a mess, the map discarded across the floor. And then Amari remembered how many hours it took, searching in the hot sun for a single flower that could match Eris's eyes, that would go with her blonde hair. A little lilac everyone has been trying to preserve the whole summer. Amari looked back at their sword, wet golden cardboard pushed to the side.

Marcel lightly tapped their temple, a slight smile playing on his lips as he leaned toward them.

"Well? What did we do yesterday first, snowbird?"

Amari blinked up at him before laying their head against his arm. Marcel pulled them closer as they gathered a leather book from their bag, a story called, 'We'll Live in the Sky' and they were flipping to the newest page. The rest of their friends fell quiet and sat closer to them, the low light from the candle illuminated the early morning around them, where Amari couldn't feel the shadows anymore. They were all safe in the tower, away from home, and Amari felt a little braver with Marcel as he carded his fingers through their hair, beginning to braid them.

"We were changing the world, with the sound of rain..."

Together, long before those heroes had to fight, there were more meaningful things, and Amari could only have hope. Maybe they could stay home forever this time, in this small playground covered in rust.

When the stars see us, when they say our names,

We fall with the North Star, through sand.

And the curtains close.

While we're here, lost in the silence

Of the Far Away.

Will you remember me?

They spent what was left of summer looking for magic, and hoping for more rain, as they always have growing up. Being things of heroes, and finding monsters to fight, jumping around small rivers with capes as they threw flimsy swords around, wandering between crumbling structures as their base. Maybe they'd be able reach the top of the world if they were just a little taller. And sometimes, during the longer days it seemed that the others would turn their back for a moment, and Amari would fall apart from the sun. So Andre had to carry him over his shoulder, and made everyone else take a break, where they'd bury their feet in the river stream. Their hands in mud, searching for any gems that could be hidden, deep in the earth. And they'd jump into playing heroes again, and Amari could feel how fearless they all were then, in all their stories and they way they'd move through the earth, like warriors built from marble. Even then, they'd worry, and hope at the same time, that once gold fades there would still be magic in the snow as there once was in the stars.

Sometimes, Amari would ask if they could all go home in the middle of the night, when they were already gathered together for the night. Tea and cookies were enough for them to settle, so none of them worried too much about it. And Marcel often held Amari's hand tighter while the world grew quieter with time. And Eris would strum along her guitar during the dark, where they'd sit underneath a droopy Willow tree near the park, and tell stories in together as Amari wrote them down. Their fingers ached as they felt time, and as everyone's last summer went by, Amari saw everyone less. They were missing from their stories before disappearing all together. Something like a final sunset. And a final song.

And high school began, and Eris told them she had given her guitar away to the old world, but Amari found the scraps in the rivers. And all Eris could say was that it didn't mean anything anymore. Andre's helmet was found shattered in a vacant parking lot. Marcel… he was quiet, still sitting with them as Amari kept writing. But they barely felt anyone's bind anymore, And their days spent writing would be long gone soon. During the colder nights, Amari would hold the book close to their heart, where they could still feel everyone's soul intertwining with one another, a very faint sound. And they closed their eyes, burrowing themselves back into their blankets, still holding onto the static.

In the few weeks that passed, with their last written poem, Amari went missing. Marcel didn't keep track of the days that he had to live through anymore, he had been losing sleep since that morning.

The world never felt more loud than it did now, and Marcel tried to listen through the wind, both bracelets hung around his wrist, a plain silver now. The weight of them brought him back to Amari's smile in that moment, them brushing his dark hair away from his face as they told them that the bracelet gave him its color. The wind picked up as everyone stood on the edge of the Far Away, Eris looked at him in concern but Marcel only stared down into the vast forest, clenching his fist around the poem. Andre then held his hand up abruptly when Marcel stepped forward, and Marcel snapped toward him before suddenly deflating as he saw him standing there, with his hands clasped together, head bowed.

No one said anything, Eris followed the motion, Marcel forced himself to breathe and he stepped back, hastily pressing his hands together. He tried to remember Amari's words, that were once spoken so softly, filled with the promise that was meant to be kept. He squeezed his eyes shut tightly, as if he could forever be living in memories for that moment. Listening to them.

"To the night that guides us, and the songs that are answered." They murmured in unison, and walked into the forest together with one thought in mind.

What once was a place full of light, and Amari's magic, was somehow more empty and quiet than ever. The ground sank heavily underneath them, a malaise that almost threatened to swallow them whole. And the air carried sour things that were decaying, muted uneven colors of autumn. More of the trees had fallen over, stuck there or sagging against the sullen earth, everything that was slowly in decline before seemed to only want everything dead here. Including them, since Andre kept getting his shoes stuck in hidden patches of mud, and he kept complaining about it.

Marcel didn't pay any mind as he kept looking all around him, his eyes darting from between the little spaces between the forest, and the nothing. And he kept moving like he could wade through the fog, he had no idea if any of them were going the right way but Marcel had to believe. He had to try, and keep trying. He didn't even understand, Amari was always afraid to be on their own, especially frightened of the forest. But it was their only lead they had, and he couldn't think about how much more he should've done, why hadn't noticed their stillness, or anything different. But looking back he still couldn't find anything. It was an unsettling thought. And then he caught sight of movement. He halted his footsteps, the air leaving his lungs, had never seen eyes so blue, Amari stepping back behind the tree, and Marcel dashed forward. That soft image of them, wrapping their arms around a brown cardigan, their golden brown hair flowing with the wind as they wandered away. Marcel lost his footing down the slanted ground, staring into the fog with a harrowing feeling.

"Marcel! What the hell?" Andre exclaimed as they both caught up him, exasperated.

He didn't move, Andre opened his mouth but Marcel was already up again, and he kept running.

"Amari!"

He felt like his heart was about to burst, his hands ached as he frantically whipped his head around, there were only more trees around, sunken into nothing. He ignored the others trying to get him to slow down, followed the direction they went to, calling out for his friend. He stopped and looked around a few times when the wind picked up, the weight of the whole world fell on him, as he heard the echo.

"Amari…" His voice came out faint, lost, torn from the throat.

He dragged himself forward, catching a shape between trees in one moment, and the one after it, flickering at a distance. That soft smile before turning away. And moving with the wind in gentle sways with their skirt, it was like the sun managed to live through the fog. Would he ever see that kind of light again? Eris and Andre were quietly walking beside him now, occasionally gave him concerned glances as they surveyed the area, almost weary as they kept an ear out. They came into a clearing and Marcel recognized the river immediately. The stream had grown much smaller as he stepped into the shaky light.

"Where are you?" And Marcel glanced around, he had never felt so devastated when there was just nothing. Not a response, not even the wind.

But there was a strange comfort, nostalgia perhaps. Andre said something but everything felt so far now, Marcel managed to turn his head to where Andre ran his hand over the carvings over tree bark.

I hope.

Marcel couldn't speak, he read the words again, and again. It wasn't there before, were they getting any closer at all? He stood at the edge of the stream, Where they used to sit and simply read together, when it was just them two. And in those afternoon naps in the bedded grass, Amari seemed like they could sleep forever like that, sometimes Marcel never wanted to wake up again, with them.

"I want to protect you from everything in this world." He had said once.

"I can protect both of us," Amari said earnestly, gathering Marcel's hands into theirs as they sat up, gazing at him.

"With the power of kindness, love, and enough sugar."

"Taking notes out of our own book, I see?" He mused, and Amari just laughed before laying down again, and Marcel followed them.

Maybe he didn't believe enough, maybe his sword hadn't been blessed with the right magic, or there was a curse looming around. Marcel stared into the water for a minute. And then he realized it as he stared at himself, his hero title. Never meant anything.

"Hey." Eris's voice cut through him and he turned around.

Among the many tree stumps from long before, on Marcel's sat a small box with dandelions, Marigold's, and moss covered all around it. He walked back for a closer look, Marigold's, from those sacred offerings in their stories, they've never been able to find any growing up. He took in the sun's warmth in color, his hand reaching out and he traced along the soft petals with reverence, before he hesitantly picked a dandelion up. He almost felt closer to them.

Amari's gift.

He refused to think of that. He glanced at the title and read it quietly.

"A heroes epilogue."

No one said anything, Marcel held his breath as he opened the box, opening the first letter that was shown to him. He brushed some of the dirt off.

"To Eris," he started, letting out a small breath, "born out of shadows, and earned her right to bring life back to nature, covered in flowers and moss. And she found her way back toward home again, and began the long journey of her life, where violets grew underneath her movement among the ground she walked upon, healing the earth in turn. We will always remember you, and you will always be kept in the core of the world, healing the world with your many voices of nature."

She looked as if she somewhere else all together, sitting there with her arms around her knees, and Andre sitting directly across, trying to catch her gaze. Marcel pulled another letter out.

"To Andre, a buried statue from a lost city that came to life, and sang songs of hope that powered him, and his spear. Where he returned to a place of rest again, wandering from a decade old sleep, from place to place, finding new communities to help rebuild. A figure of strength and a gentle heart. You will always be important to us."

Andre had his head buried in his hands, Eris sat next to him with her hand on his shoulder. Marcel held his own letter, it felt heavier than the others. He felt his eyes begin to water and he quickly blinked them away.

"Marcel, the one who fought against the dark fiercely, who brought the light of dawn with him. Who came out of the blue sky, and soared over the world that was everything once, and he could soar once again. With the stars guiding him through the sea, not for more fighting. For gentle waves, for a simple life in an old town, with threads of hope to keep protection over his friends."

He didn't say the last words of Amari's tenderness, he gently brushed his thumb over the smudged ink.

My best adventure was you.

It broke him.

After a while the other were beside him as he held the last letter in his hands, willing to keep any hope he could.

"It was Amari who brought everyone together, with their ability to bring the old stars back to life, guided by the North Star, and memories of past lives across time, with everyone together and dreaming. But they… could feel everyone's threads slowly drifting off to sea, and not even a prayer or stardust could bring anyone back. But still, they kept their faith, praying until their body gave up on itself. While the world they once saved quietly fell into silence around them, and just as magic began to disappear, it was only them who felt all of it. All over them. And Amari made sure their friend's wishes would come true, before going back to the river of moss and mud they once came out of, and let themselves fall into gentle water. There would be a vague memory of a weary knight who came from a wish upon a star. And then that would be annulled from the books too… Amari dreamed of their friends, of their dear friend, and walked back into the night sky, their last wish being of hope staying alive."

Marcel almost crushed the paper, but he couldn't just let go of Amari's love for all of them, a silence fell over the three for a long while. The world stayed the same, silent and ever looming. Marcel wiped his eyes before standing up, motioning the others as well. And they all stood on the edge of the small stream, with Marcel clasping his hands together, taking a deep breath.

Andre then spoke up softly. "You are our heart."

"You, are loved, always." Eris murmured.

Marcel found that he couldn't feel any of it, the cold nipped at his skin but his hands were numb. His eyes fell shut, and he felt what was missing.

"You were our happy ending. And something of an angel in battle, but snowbird, you were not an after thought, not of the past or anything less than a hero. You are so, very brave." Marcel trailed off, squeezing his eyes shut as he couldn't bring himself to say anything more, dropping his head.

I just pray that you're alright.

Maybe their little eulogies would've brought them home, maybe if they brought flowers or anything more to offer. He tried to believe again, but it felt like it was all he could do. The others were eventually moving again, Marcel stayed where he was, focused on the wind brushing through his hair, holding his letter over his heart. The footsteps paused.

"Marcel."

"No."

"Marcel-"

"No!" He shot up, whirling around at them. "I am not leaving them out there!"

They both fell into a silence, just staring at him. He didn't understand how they could think about anything else other than now, and here. He turned away from them.

"It'll get dark." Andre tried.

"I'll find them."

Marcel crossed his arms, and they didn't say anything else to him after that. The footsteps eventually faded out. He looked back into the forest, and he let the wind guide him forward.

Nothing could hurt more.

He followed the memory of home, wondering if this is what it felt like to be fearless, worn down, and still moving.