i bought some postcards

[truthwright]

Kas is sadder, after Inkeri's prophecy. And it gets worse as time goes on. The closer they get to Isabella's return, the more it hurts.

He tries to do the best he can for Helen regardless. Helen, in turn, hugs him a lot and doesn't fuss when he cries on her. They make a good team that way.

Comments

[dark_light]

"Must have been a whole lot of postcards. I can conjure them in batches," she says, "right now I'm too glad to be home - I wasn't gone nearly as long on my end but the world was pretty terrible, Glass puked when she saw it through the door." She conjures up the first couple hundred, starts reading.

[telesonorous]

"—Who's that?" says an uncertain voice out of thin air.

[truthwright]

"Fuck." Kas rubs his face with both hands. "C'mere, button."

[telesonorous]

A somewat confused thirteen-year-old girl teleports into the room, hovering on a cloudpine branch.

She sees Amariah.



She stares.

[dark_light]

Amariah stares back.

[That's an Yseult. That is an Yseult. What did you do.]

[truthwright]

[I had a kid!] he says. [I wished myself pregnant and I didn't specify by who and apparently the magic picked you!]

[telesonorous]

The Yseult in question is looking increasingly uncomfortable.



"Hi?" she tries.

[dark_light]

"Hi," says Amariah automatically. "I - apparently haven't - gotten to that part yet." She waves the postcard she's holding, drops it negligently into the "done" pile.

[telesonorous]

"...I could go away," she offers. "Until you've caught up."

[dark_light]

"Yeah."

[telesonorous]

"Okay. Bye," she says, and tilts her head as though listening, and vanishes.

[dark_light]

"How old is she?" asks Isabella quietly.

[truthwright]

"Thirteen," says Kas, also quietly. "Her birthday's in August, I said the third but I could've been wrong. It's in a few months - you've been gone exactly sixty-six years minus a day."

[dark_light]

Path goes slowly fluffy, all his feathers standing on end.

"I am not old enough to have a thirteen year old daughter, fuck, I'm not even old enough to be her irresponsible preteen mother!" says Isabella, "I just - we never even talked about having - goddesses all - I can't." She gets up. She conjures the remaining postcards into a magic bag that will hold them all. "I can't right now - I am going to the Belltower, I will be back, this place is synced and brainphoneable twice over if you need me or you can get Jane to send you after me but - I can't." She flicks her bracelet.

Jane picks her up, and puts her down.

[truthwright]

Kas sits by himself, on her living room floor, and he hugs his daemon, and he just... doesn't do anything. Not a thing at all.