20This year's Sabzeruz festival had been a treat to witness, a testament to the change Sumeru had undergone since Rukkhadevata's time.
What was once a mere banquet, lively though it may have been, had now grown into a large, nation-wide event, the denizens of her land all coming together to celebrate the birth of their gods.
She wondered what her old friend, Nabu Malikata, would think were she still alive to witness it.
Rukkhadevata let out the faintest sigh, releasing a breath she didn't know she'd withheld.
"Are you tired, Mother?" asked Nahida, peering up at her with curious eyes. Her daughter had developed a knack for spotting whenever dreary thoughts ailed her mind, calling them out sooner rather than later.
"Not quite, dear. I simply cannot shake the feeling that something is missing."
Nahida hummed knowingly, and Rukkhadevata wondered if she too shared the sentiment. There wasn't much time to ponder the matter however, as the flower carriage came to a halt outside their home.
The Sanctuary was the most elevated and distant place in Sumeru City, to the point that almost none of the festivities below could be heard anymore.
"My lords, if you would…"
Kaveh's words spurred her into action, and the two gods made their way out of the carriage, its doors dutifully held open by this year's Knight of Flowers.
"Of course, good sir," she replied, "You have our gratitude."
The blond architect smiled, in a brief, painful moment reminding her of another.
"Come, Nahida. I find that I am growing tired after all."
"M- Mother! You need to see this!"
The exclamation had Rukkhadevata racing across the hall, a sight few people would ever expect to see. She rarely lost her composure, but when it came to her daughter she found that things had changed, that reason would escape her and that she couldn't help but act illogically.
"What is it?" she asked, "Is something-"
She froze, finding Nahida staring at a piece of paper - a letter she held on to tightly - the envelope hastily opened and cast aside. Senses honed over more than a millennium picked up on char and spice, a fiery scent not native to Sumeru.
"It's from Natlan," whispered Nahida. "It was on the coffee table, it's-"
Rukkhadevata's heart skipped a beat.
"It's from them."
Before she knew it, the pair had huddled together by the table, nothing mattering more than the small, innocuous letter in her daughter's hands.
Neat but awkward handwriting greeted them, as though the one who penned the letter had great motor skill but little experience with their alphabet.
'Dear Nahida,
I trust this letter finds you well. Paimon and I are writing to-'
"Huh-" said Nahida, trailing off after a brief couple of seconds. "The last part of the sentence is crossed out, how strange!"
'Hi Nahida! It's me, Paimon! Aether's being way too formal… no idea what's gotten into him! Anyway, we've been traveling Natlan for a while now, and you won't believe the crazy sort of stuff that's going on around here!'
Nahida stifled a giggle behind her palm, likely imagining an exasperated Paimon slapping the Traveler atop his head, snatching the pen away from him.
In any case, that was the image conjured by her own mind.
'That's not why we're writing, though! Don't think for a second that we'd forget our favorite cutie pie's (cabbage's) birthday!'
The Traveler and Paimon never missed a chance to embarrass her daughter, figured Rukkhadevata, even while many hundreds of miles away. Not that she minded it - quite the contrary - seeing Nahida's ears light up was terribly amusing.
"Th- Those two!" stammered Nahida, "I'm not a cabbage!"
"Hmm..." murmured Rukkhadevata, before deftly picking the letter out of Nahida's hands. "I concur. While you are the size of a cabbage, you are not at all round enough. Why, with the way you style your hair, I would say you bear far greater resemblance to a radish!"
"Mother!"
"Haha… forgive me, dear. In any case, the handwriting appears to have changed once again. I wonder what our dear Traveler has written next."
'Sorry (not) about that, Nahida. Paimon's being unusually cheeky today, but I suppose that's because she misses you so much. I know I do. We couldn't make it to the festival this year, but I promise we'll make it up to you.'
Right next to the sentence was a crude little drawing of Paimon, her arm raised into the air, showing them a thumbs up.
'We'll be back before you know it, but until then we wish you a very happy birthday, and the sweetest of dreams.'
"Your friends," whispered Rukkhadevata, reading the final words of the letter aloud, "Aether and Paimon."
The wide, joyful smile on Nahida's face should've meant the world to her. It should've been more than enough, and yet all that crossed her mind was an ugly, petty thought.
There wasn't any mention of her in his letter, not even the slightest acknowledgment - like she'd never existed to him at all.
Rukkhadevata swallowed, forcing down the lump in her throat.
Have you forgotten about me, my dear Traveler?
Had she the strength for it, Rukkhadevata would've let out a miserable, sardonic laugh.
As it was, all she could muster were words of despondency, mumbled deeply into the fabric of her pillow.
"That is it, then."
Part of her wondered if he'd known, or at least suspected something.
While others praised the Traveler's might and character, that wasn't what had drawn her to him at all. She'd lived long enough to witness all of that and more, to the point that conventional forms of power meant little to her.
No, what made the Traveler special was the way he seemed to understand beings from all walks of life, be they man, god or beast. He could read and connect with them on a primal level, a chance encounter enough to know them better than they knew themselves.
It wasn't inconceivable that he'd learned of her feelings, and by all rights walking away was the best thing that he could do.
He'd spare himself a great deal of trouble, and his beloved would surely not stand for anything else. Even towards herself it was merciful, sparing her the heartbreak of a rejection while also refusing to entertain her silly fantasies.
Knowing he was right didn't make it hurt any less, however.
When sleep did eventually claim her, Rukkhadevata found herself whisked away from tear-soaked pillows, her fears coming true as she was transported to a dream no less murky and bleak than her night had been.
The rain masked her tears, at least, a small comfort to whatever remained of her shattered pride.
"Ah… maybe I went about it the wrong way."
She spun around, heart lurching in her chest, and wondered if her dream would soon turn into a nightmare.
"It's not a very good surprise if the birthday girl ends up with tears in her eyes."
A somewhat remorseful Traveler smiled at her weakly, one of his arms raised above his head to shield from the relentless downpour.
"Ae- Aether?"
He nodded, the familiar blond braid clinging to his neck from all the wetness.
"I should listen more to Paimon. She said it would never work, that you were too clever for your own good and would either figure it out or get it all completely wrong."
The Traveler cleared his throat, looking distinctly embarrassed.
"Happy birthday, Aranyani."
She realized he'd been hiding something in his other hand, a small package wrapped up in a bundle. It too was completely soaked, but he held it up towards her nonetheless.
Rukkhadevata stared, wondering what sort of cruel trick her mind had decided to play on her.
"It's a little wet, but should probably taste about the same. At least I think it should, but dreams can be weird like that."
"Are you… real?" she whispered.
Her legs felt as though they'd turn to jelly, and she hoped to the gods above that he didn't hear her tiny whimper.
The Traveler's expression softened, and when he responded with a nod Rukkhadevata couldn't hold back her emotions any longer.
"But how?! This is a dream, you should not- I thought- I thought you had…"
"Oh dear," he muttered, catching her as she stumbled forward. "What is it with all the beautiful crying ladies recently?"
"Wh- Wha-"
Her mind went blank, feeling the touch she'd craved for over two years as he finally embraced her.
That same warm, comforting jolt raced through her body, wriggling into every last nook and cranny until she felt completely at peace. Whatever line of questioning his earlier words had prompted were quickly dispelled, replaced with nothing but a burning desire for this moment never to end.
"You came back," she breathed, finding her voice amidst racking sobs. "You remembered me. You-"
A wave of shame coursed through her - the Traveler wasn't the type of person to forget, to turn tail and flee at the sight of hardship.
"Of course I did," he said, still holding her tightly. "As for how I'm here… don't tell me you thought only gods could peek inside other people's minds?"
Rukkhadevata felt her cheeks heating up, and desperately looked for a way to hide her embarrassment.
Acting on instinct, she buried her face in the crook of his neck.
"Hm? What's wrong?"
"N- Nothing!" she stammered, so very much unlike herself. "You just made it sound so… inappropriate."
Daring to sneak a glance at the Traveler, she found him grinning widely.
"You think that's bad? Just wait until you hear the ugly nickname Paimon's thought out for you-"
"No!" she exclaimed, jumping out of his arms to desperately wave her hands in front of her face. "Absolutely not! There will be no need for that, Aether!"
His laughter rang clearly across the dreamscape, the melodious sound filling her with joy. As if in response, the dark and gloomy overcast began to disperse, and with it the heavy rain that left them drenched from head to toe.
It didn't take long for the dark, barren wasteland of before to disappear entirely, replaced with flowery meadows that stretched as far as the eye could see.
"Well, that's an improvement," the Traveler commented lightly. "I take it you're feeling better, Aranyani?"
There was something quite different about this dream, thought Rukkhadevata, almost like they were in some sort of limbo - a state between fantasy and reality.
She knew much about dreams, and they weren't usually so detailed, nor as easily tailored to her whims.
"Thanks to you, my dear Traveler." she replied, "Now then, I find myself most curious as to your gift."
"Oh, right!"
He handed her the package, which she tried and failed to unwrap with care. Patience was all but thrown to the wind, curiosity getting the better of her.
"This is-"
The Traveler inched closer to her, peering down at the gift he'd brought.
"I was thinking about you the other day, recalling how you and Ei stuffed your faces with these things back at Lambad's. Normally I'd be worried about excessive sugar consumption, but… archon privileges, I guess."
The delicious aroma of candied ajilenakh nuts filled the air, stirring something deep in her soul.
Until this point Rukkhadevata had been mostly bashful, but with each passing second a strange sense of boldness grew within her.
It couldn't hurt to test the waters.
Setting his gift down on a patch of grass, she faced the Traveler with equal parts excitement and trepidation.
"Do you make it a habit to think of me, Aether?"
"Hm... I suppose I do. You're not exactly easy to forget."
She stepped towards him, grabbing hold of his hand.
"You do not know the power you hold over me, my knight."
In the blink of an eye, the Traveler staring back at her had changed, the dream weaving him into her very own Knight of Flowers, the only one she'd ever have, and the one she'd been denied.
"From the moment you breathed new life into me, I have been yours."
Her body moved on its own, like a puppet on a string, dancing to the tune of the gods above.
Cupping his face in her hands, Rukkhadevata leaned down ever-so-slightly.
He remained stock-still, and she took it as an invitation.
"Your archon would reward you, Sir Knight."
She closed the remaining gap, their lips meeting for the briefest of moments. It was little more than a brush, a fleeting kiss, and yet she'd experienced no greater pleasure in all of her years.
Once she realized what she'd done, however, Rukkhadevata drew back aghast.
"Aranyani-"
"Aether, I-"
She cut him off, whatever he was about to say surely too much to bear.
It could wait, even if just for a moment longer.
Might as well say it.
"I love you."
His chest heaved up and down, whether from anger or something else she couldn't tell.
"I know."