The chill of Glaciem was over, Terra was now warming up the rest of the world slowly but surely. It had been an eventful three weeks–meeting acquaintances in the Spirit Realm, spending the turn of the lunar year at her husband's, watching the famous cherry blossoms of Nisshoki come into full bloom. "Did you know that they only bloom after experiencing sufficient frost?" She remembered him eagerly telling her. "Perhaps that is why poets would liken love to its seasons. Although it may pass through periods of happiness and hardship, once the harsh Glaciem is over the bare branches blossom with new life faithfully each year." Terra, or spring, was always celebrated in ways related to the renewal of life. The cycle of life and death was always turning, continuing, moving. The steadfast blooming of the buds were also compared to fidelity between couples, the transience of life of all living beings, and the beauty of the natural world. It was these sort of thoughts that made you sit and think for hours, eventually coming back to yourself.

"I wonder if the twins are here?" She muttered, leaning back as her arms supported herself from behind. They were both sitting at the top of the Hanging Gardens at the dock, her shoes off and dipping in the water. Taking one of the lotus flowers, she balanced it on her foot as she floated it on the river's surface. Before it could float too far, she would pull it back in with her toes. "They might, though I haven't seen them. Will Lysandre and Lady Angela's daughter meet here, I wonder?" The silver-haired fey asked. She shrugged. Belen and Cyril had been talking about it for a while now, and it wasn't hard to tell those two got along. Somehow Sylvain still hadn't gotten wind of it, and she wasn't intending on breaking the news to him anytime soon. If Nerine could tell her own boy liked somebody, then a five-centuries old vampire lord sure didn't have an excuse. Also, it wasn't her business to report stuff about other people's kids.

"If Belen and Cyril were here, it'd be a lot less quiet with things flying around. But even if that isn't happening they could come if they felt like it." They were old enough to choose what they wanted, they didn't need her looking over their shoulder for every little thing. As long as they didn't pull something completely irresponsible she didn't really mind. Lifting the pale purple lotus out of the water, her husband took her hand with a smile. "Let's release this one into the river this time–together."  

Letting go, he watched the blossom meander down the currents and fall into the blue waves below. With Shiloh sitting beside him, they shared a moment of silence as the flower could no longer be seen. "I am truly grateful that I met you," He said. "Before our paths crossed in Nisshoki, I wasn't sure of so many things. I didn't know where I wanted to go, what I wanted to do, and how I would live my life. To tell you the truth, I had been that way for a very long time, since my mother passed on." Shiloh never pried into his past life, she never pushed him to speak when it made him uncomfortable. That was one of the reasons why he trusted her so much, why being with her made him happy. When she was with him he felt safe knowing she would never think less of him or ridicule how he felt. Once he was able to get past her stiff and laconic exterior he could understand her more. In reality they were very much the same despite their actions being so different.

Shiloh turned to look, nodding to tell that she was listening. "My mother…her name was Aurelie Odessa Viscaria before she and my father were wed. Upon being married she took his surname and relinquished her position in her household. She was an angel, in every sense of the word. Despite being married and living far away from all she had been familiar with, she loved my father wholeheartedly. My father wasn't the gentlest man, you see." Continuing, he began to speak of things he had once hoped to shut away from his mind. "Mother was as warm as father was cold. Out of all of my brothers, I resembled her the most. She was always so kind…" He felt the words halt as he could feel a lump welling up in his throat. "I loved her. I loved her so much. She was the only person in the whole world who understood me, who cared for me. No matter what it was, a single word from her would make everything alright. But when I was a child, she took ill. Eventually one morning she didn't wake."

The tears were here, but they weren't falling as quickly as they once did. "Her passing was a terrible blow for me. In a moment the single person who loved me was gone. To this day I don't know if her death was due to natural causes, but my father never disclosed such details to me. Perhaps despite being so distant–he too loved my mother. Following my mother's burial his coldness became more severe and his words more austere. My brothers were all much older than I and I was constantly belittled for not meeting my family's expectations. I had no one to talk to, no one I was able to trust with my innermost thoughts. Every night I slept wishing and hoping that I would see mother again. As the years passed by, the weight of my family's demands slowly crushed my heart. As much as I loved them, they would never love me back. Unable to continue any longer, I ran away."

She let him talk. He had told her a little on why he left Feeorin back when they were students training for swordsmanship. She knew he didn't want to go back home and how he felt conflicted when it came to his family. His mother passed away when he was young. They both had a lot in common, painfully so at times. Back when she lost her parents, it was like a part of her had died with them. Her relatives didn't give her any help and she was always looking to keep out of their way. With no reason to keep going, she too had run away from school. And just like he said, it didn't matter where she went–as long as it wasn't where she was. Unna changed all of that. If it weren't for her, she would have died on the mountain. The mother troll gave her a place to belong, people who cared, and the closest thing she could call a family. For a long time she couldn't understand why strangers could be so kind while one's own kin could be so cold. Slowly she grew to resent humans, angry and confused at why they treated her and others badly. Unna always told her not to hate them, but it was hard. The only times her misanthropy didn't show was when she saw someone who desperately needed help. Maybe deep down she didn't really hate humanity; maybe she just hated its selfishness. Maybe she was frustrated at how those with a great capacity to do good chose to do otherwise, even when helping wouldn't put them at a disadvantage.

Cymbel's ability to still forgive and love despite being hurt was something she wished she had. Most of the time she couldn't find it in her to let things go. He was much older than her, but he hadn't given up on believing in the goodness in people, and she was glad Cyril and Belen picked up that from him. Her kids didn't need to go through the torment she had suffered. It would be better if they never knew. "You don't regret leaving, right?" She asked. Her husband shook his head. "I know I left for myself, but…doing so didn't mean I was abandoning mother. There were times when I felt so guilty about not enduring for a little longer, but I realized that she wouldn't have wanted me to stay if I was unhappy." That was good. Not everyone was able to understand the difference between what was best for them and what they were familiar with. She couldn't imagine how he could survive living under that emotional isolation and oppression for two centuries without falling into despair. "You've really improved a lot compared to back when I first saw you." She stated. He looked up surprised, his pale face flushing lightly. "I have?" 

"Yeah. Back when that old man Ogami was putting us through the wringer, you barely said anything. You were scared to speak up for yourself, always worried about what other people would think of you. You're always too kind when it comes to others, but that's not a bad thing." Kyoshiro Ogami–a real jerk and a perfect example of chauvinism. After the shadoka attack on the dojo, it never regained its former glory. Rumors of Ogami having earned his share of ire from powerful enemies circulated through the capital for weeks. And thanks to his reputation, most people believed he had it coming. He didn't need anybody to shame him; he disgraced himself. Cracking a small smile she added, "Your health's gotten a lot better too." He was still sensitive to extreme temperatures and was prone to heatstroke, but with time he had become happier and more self-confident. Working at a place where he felt he could make use of his skills was one of the best things in reducing his anxiety. She tried to work on her own in different terms–negotiating deals and writing contracts took the edge off of social interaction with strangers to a point.

Shiloh's smile faded again with a sigh. "I'm sorry Cymbel." Those words had him confused. "Why? Is something wrong? You don't need to apologize to me for anything." She leaned her head on the back of her hands as her elbows were propped up by her knees. "No, I mean it. I haven't been able to spend as much time as I wanted with you or the twins. If I hadn't been made a deity, we'd see each other more often and you wouldn't be by yourself for months at a time." Shortly after they became closer than friends, higher powers had bestowed upon her the position of a deity. It was so sudden that even she had difficulty accepting the new responsibilities that were being thrust upon her. He didn't blame her for being busy and he could easily enter Antikythera through an enchanted door she had placed in his estate in Nisshoki. Managing a business while handle world affairs along with raising two boys was a juggling act for anyone. At last she had managed to set a portion of time aside where they all could gather together without other matters drawing her attention. With the rest of her employees, they celebrated the beginning of the lunar year.

Leaning onto her shoulder, he took her hand. "I have so much to be happy for. I have no excuse to be ungrateful." Shyly he commented, "I believe you have also improved quite a bit yourself. Even though you dislike large gatherings and speaking with strangers, you were willing to collaborate with others in the Conclave despite that. We all know how much you care about us, even if the world fails to notice. You work the hardest out of everyone in Antikythera, but I would feel more at ease if you would give yourself more time to rest." Her insomnia was the first thing he was able to help her with once they were married. A small amount of his mist was able to help calm Shiloh enough to where she could sleep in peace. The effects did not last long, but it was enough to overcome the initial restlessness during the transition from wakefulness to sleep. Both of their children had also inherited his family's affinity with mist–Belen capable of creating a disorienting fog while Cyril being able to change his form into mist entirely. He was sure his mother was smiling down on him from the stars above.

The awkward tension eased and they both shared a laugh, him relaxing more and wrapping his arms around her. Normally he would be more reserved with so many others around, but he didn't mind anymore. They both laid flat on their backs looking up, watching as the cloud of lanterns hovered and swayed in the breeze. "I'm glad I met you Shiloh." He whispered. With a smile she answered back, "I'm glad I met you too." There wasn't anyone else in the world who could replace her. To him she was truly unique, one of a kind–the one and only person in the whole world who had shared both experiences and feelings with him. "Oh, wait. We should make a wish." She said. "What will you wish for?" He asked. Quietly so only he could hear, she whispered: "…For Cyril and Belen to find someone who will understand and love them for who they are, just like both of us."