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*****
At first, there was nothing.
No sound, no color. Just grey as far as the spirit could perceive.
And then, there she was. A concept, an amalgam of images and sounds; strange things that tugged at the center of her being. The spirit looked down, stretching her appendages in front of her. She could see (with her eyes, she remembered) and feel (fingers, that’s right), and she pressed one finger to another. There was no warmth; there was no give. Only numb pressure.
The spirit took a step, then another, before she realized that she didn’t have to. Footsteps turned to long glides through the air, and that was fun. She startled at the sound of her own laughter. It rang raucously against the pressing silence, echoing like it belonged to another, but it was her own. She would work to remember how it used to sound.
Used to. There was something before. Something else. Something better than this expanse of nothing. Her chest felt heavy, like some things (many things) were missing. She wanted them back. The tugging at her core tightened and shot multiple directions as time passed, and she remembered ache, quickly followed by confusion and fear and loneliness and pain until finally love.
Her throat tightened with a familiar ache, her eyes began to hurt, but nothing happened.
A different pull worked its way into her core. Light and enticing, yet also strange and too familiar, it beckoned this way; come on, this is where you need to go-
So she turned away from the suspicious feeling and began to wander.
And wander.
And try, desperately, to remember.
Until finally she grew tired and let the gentle pull lead her. The nothing world began to change. Slowly the surroundings gained depth. To the spirit’s surprise soft, grey grass appeared beneath her feet. Low, gnarled shrubs gave way to sparse stands of barren trees (oak, they have to be oaks, she was getting better at this) and in the distance, a river. Little wavelets lapped silently against the shore. Moored to a tumbledown dock was a ferry, barely more than logs strapped together to make a raft, but when the spirit boarded it bore her gently and surely on her way. Mist clung to the river, and the spirit struggled to see in any direction until a rolling hillside came into view.
Someone stood on the riverbank.
The spirit disembarked the ferry and drifted towards the other being. The figure, a woman, stood out starkly against the faint backdrop. She wore black from head to toe with hints of something that hurt the spirit’s eyes until she realized that what she saw was the color red. Something prickly ran down her spine. She had forgotten red. The woman had long, dark hair and her face was obscured by a skeletal mask. She crossed her arms and spoke the first words the spirit heard since her arrival in the nothing world:
“Well? Was it the boredom that got you? Or was it curiosity?”
The sound was harsh to her ears, but at the same time welcoming. Another gentle tug pulled at the spirit’s core.
“How did you know?
The woman shook her head. “It’s my job to keep track of anyone who comes here. You were stubborn. You were due to arrive on this side of the river years ago.”
(Years?)
“It was probably a little bit of both,” the spirit said.
“I see.” The spirit made out a hint of a smile in the voice that echoed from behind the mask. “You are welcome here. I am Raven Branwen, steward of this place. What is your name?”
“It’s-”
It was gone. She had forgotten her own name.
Raven Branwen hesitated, then lifted her hands to her face and removed the mask, brushing her bangs from her eyes. Resignation lay beneath her sad smile, framed by a stark jawline and harsh brows. The spirit felt that familiar pull, stronger than before, and she recalled the involuntary draw of breath, surprise.
How can I know you when I don't even know myself?
She shook the feeling away. It was impossible, this woman had been there before her-
Death.
Oh.
Her death.
“Take all the time you need. We are never short of that here.” Raven huffed a gentle laugh.
The spirit searched the hillside behind Raven but all she saw was a mountain peak looming beyond them, cold and severe. She did not care for the way her chest tightened and the insistent pulling feeling intensified the longer she looked at it.
“Where are we?” She asked.
“A time out of time. A resting place, per se. A place to catch your breath. You will continue onwards to make your journey up the mountain and beyond.”
“What if I don’t want to yet?”
“Well, it doesn’t quite work like that-“
“You said this is a time out of time, what’s there to lose if I stay a while longer?”
Raven narrowed her eyes. Her lips quirked.
“Gods, you’re a stubborn one.”
“I don’t think that’s the first time anyone has said that to me.” A sarcastic retort, it was almost too easy.
The spirit smiled at Raven. A lightness appeared in Raven’s face that could not be erased by her feigned neutrality. The spirit felt a soft buzzing in her chest, something she discovered to be happiness. She pressed her luck.
“What is there to do here? You know. Besides climbing the mountain?”
“Nothing, really. Well, you could find something to haunt. Being a spirit and all.”
The spirit looked around herself.
Trees, river, mist.
Raven.
“You mean something like you?”
“Excuse me?”
*****
Maybe haunt was too strong a word. What they had was an agreement. The spirit recalled warmth, the delight of companionship. After so long spent in the company of no one but herself, the spirit had a friend. Raven no longer wore her mask around her. The two spent hours following the shifting light across the shrouded sky, wandering through the corpses of trees on the riverside in anticipation of new travelers.
Raven continued her business of guiding wandering souls towards their ascent. Sometimes the new souls acknowledged the spirit, smiling gently before they wandered up the path. The mist would gather, closing off the world on the other side of the river, and eventually Raven would come to rest beside her.
At first, Raven’s stories were accidental slips of the tongue, small revelations that led the spirit to greater curiosity. Raven glowed as she spoke about her life. She told of the rolling hills of her hometown in Mistral, a place the spirit did not recognize, and when she did leaves unfurled from the gnarled branches around her and lush grass sprouted beneath their feet. (Ah, yes, green.)
Raven’s pallor filled with healthy color and her eyes brightened to a sparking crimson when she told the spirit of her twin brother, not yet come to cross the river. Surely she was seeing things? In those moments the spirit was overcome with a desperate urge to remember. She wanted to know how it felt to live in color once more.
“It can’t all be gone,” Raven gently prodded, “Do you remember your family?”
“I…” Ache came back with a vengeance. Faint images and sensations shot through her mind, lost moments after discovery. An embrace: her small, childlike arms wrapped tight around a larger person and a split second later she became the one to envelop the smaller being in her arms. Another second and it was gone. Frustration built within her. She tried desperately to hold the pictures in her mind’s eye but they eluded her each time.
“Describe what you feel around the sensation. The image is only an image; it’s what lingers behind it that matters.”
So she did. There were hands that held her little body gently, comforting and protecting her. A lilting tune weaved its way into her being and she was momentarily blinded by pain as she realized that the singers of that song crossed the river before her. The words tumbled from her mouth. She described the feeling of forgotten lips against her own, the comfort of camaraderie, there were four of them, she remembered. She stood, pacing, and with each word and each step young, vibrant shoots curled up from beneath her feet.
Joy. This was what this was, a beautiful pain that set forth a flood of emotion, and with every new sensation the world around her grew. Wildflowers sprang up on the hillsides, vermilion, gold, scarlet, indigo. She spoke of a man with smiling blue eyes and a soft heart and the mist cleared away. With color and light this world was beautiful and the words continued to pour from her, unstoppable. She told Raven of a woman much like her, radiant and reserved, and something rustled the leaves in the trees and teasingly tousled their hair, a summer breeze-
The spirit gasped.
“Summer,” Raven said, her voice barely more than a whisper.
Raven burned scarlet against the verdant hillside, the brightest point of light in the landscape. Something clicked in the spirit’s mind: this was familiar, that tone was familiar— Raven’s eyes searched hers and the breeze died back. The world around them became silent once more.
Raven’s smile was soft. Sad, but so tender.
“Your name is Summer.”
*****
Her name was Summer.
As she wandered the riverbank she spoke the name aloud over and over again. Summer. A playful word. Two skips with a hum of contentment right in the middle. Now that she had her name, she heard it spoken in familiar voices in her mind. Summer, in the teasing scold of her mother and father. The trusting and steadfast voice of a partner she couldn’t recall. The gentle man with smiling eyes. A woman, beautiful and austere—her friend, more? Summer, but not quite— a clumsy attempt spoken by a young child, drowned out by a second voice calling mama, mama! Summer choked out a gasping sob. A single wave crashed along the shoreline, startling her back to reality.
This reality, at least.
Her eyes hurt, her throat ached, but nothing happened.
Summer.
Most puzzling of all was the way Raven spoke her name. The intensity of the world in that moment had been nearly blinding; colors she had forgotten were blown out and almost painful to her eyes. Raven said her name with the reverence of a wish. Raven said Summer like it was the first and last time the word would leave her lips. She said it like disbelief. She said it like fear.
She said it like finally.
Summer.
She let the name roll off of her tongue and listened once more to the leaves rustling in the absent wind.
*****
Three wisps danced in the distance: one larger, two much smaller. The little wisps bounced across the grasslands, chasing something Summer couldn’t see, but they never strayed far from the larger light. Raven’s shoulders sank.
“We have a new family, I think.”
“Oh. My gods. All at the same time?”
“Sometimes it happens.”
“…That’s so sad.”
Summer chewed her lower lip. She glanced between Raven and the trio across the river.
“Doesn’t that hurt you to see?”
“No. Not much, not anymore.”
But Summer noticed the way Raven’s eyes flared a brighter crimson as she followed the two little lights at their play. Was Raven hiding something from her? They were friends now, she should know that she could be honest with her. Raven gave and gave, let her invade her life like the unmoored spirit that she was, but never took comfort when it was offered. Maybe if Summer gave her something, Raven would let her listen.
“I think I had children, once. Sometimes I’m not sure if they were real. Two girls, two years apart. Completely different, but so alike at the same time.” She let the words drift in the stillness.
“Hm,” was all Raven said.
Summer pressed on. “One had the softest blonde curls and the strongest personality. The other was kind and gentle, full of mischief.”
The trio boarded the ferry. It slid soundlessly across the river.
“I wish I could remember their names.”
Raven pulled her knees tighter to her chest. Her energy was all wrong, and Summer felt uncertainty radiating from her. A long moment passed.
Finally, Raven spoke.
“I had a daughter, too. I never got to know her, because…” Raven wouldn’t meet Summer’s eyes, but they burned brighter in the greyness. “I had to come here. She was only a baby when I left. She had the most piercing violet eyes. She watched me leave. It was almost like she knew I wasn’t coming back.”
Something tugged at Summer’s memory. Violet. She remembered the color violet.
“My eldest’s eyes were violet, too. I thought that was a pretty rare trait?”
“I couldn’t say.”
Summer watched the new spirit family disembark the ferry. Raven did not stand to greet them, but instead drew deeper into herself.
Had she said something wrong? Raven’s taciturn nature was nothing new to Summer by now, but this felt different. She turned towards the family. The larger of the two child-wisps reached out to take their parent’s hand and lead them towards the mountain pathway. The silence stretched into awkwardness. Unable to think of anything else to do, Summer continued telling Raven her memories.
Clovers bloomed in the grass as she described how it felt to hold her infant daughter in her arms. Silver eyes, just like her mother. The air around them grew warmer, the light grew brighter, and shadows of young leaves dappled the grass around them, but a dull circle of grey still surrounded Raven where she sat. Golden dandelions popped open as Summer described her elder daughter’s tenacity, turned to seed as she recalled the stubborn set of her jaw and a rebellious whorl of blonde hair. She plucked one dandelion and blew the seeds to drift towards Raven. They shriveled and fell as they met the grey circle.
The spirit family passed over the hillside and out of sight. Raven remained silent and a new feeling, tension, coiled within Summer. She opened her mouth to speak the apology that was on the tip of her tongue when Raven cut her off.
“Summer. Her name is Yang.”
Raven’s circle instantly sparked into vibrant life. Dandelions sprang from the ground, withered, died, and grew once more. Raven lifted her head to meet Summer’s eyes and all Summer thought was it can’t be.
“But...how…?” Summer stammered, her mind screaming Yang, Yang, her daughter’s name was Yang—
The wind shook the trees around them and leaves ripped themselves from the branches, subliming into dust. The flowers bloomed, withered, and met their death one last time as Raven spoke. “Because she was once my daughter, too.”
Summer’s mind reeled. Sensations ebbed and flowed, beautiful warmth and a horrid stab in her chest, her heart. It was so much, too fast— she knew her, of course she knew Raven. How dare she forget her crooked half-smile, her cocky laugh, so apparent in the young girl she had taken in as one of her own? Raven’s terrifying intensity, so perfectly balanced by unwavering serenity. The tickle of her bangs as they brushed against Summer’s own cheeks. Her hands, clever and warm, taking Summer apart piece by burning piece, knowing her better than she even knew herself.
Summer had loved her, once.
But Raven left her. Left them.
To come here, alone.
Raven watched Summer with a gaze that held an eternity of loneliness and resignation. Tears glistened in her eyes. Summer’s throat ached, her eyes burned, and she finally felt her own tears spill over.
“Raven.”
She spoke her name like a shock. Like a shudder.
Like coming home.
The world around them became colder, the ever-present haze darkening to a slate-grey stratus above them. Summer shivered, but whether it was with chill or something deeper in her heart, something raw, she did not know.
“I knew it the moment you arrived here. Something severed in my chest that day. It was excruciating, but only for a moment, because it began mending itself. And then you wandered. I figured that, too, was part of my penance. I knew it would only be a matter of time until you found me here.”
Raven gathered the husks of the dead flowers into a little pile in front of her. She snapped her fingers above it and something bright crackled to life between them. It was warm. It felt safe. Summer quirked her brows in question, edging closer to Raven and the blossoming warmth in front of them. A fire, she remembered; this wasn’t their first fire.
“Oh, Summer. How I wish I could be like you.” Tears still welled in Raven’s eyes and they danced in the licking flames before them. Something squeezed painfully tight around Summer’s heart - longing - and without thinking she reached out to place her hand over Raven’s. Raven drew a shaky breath, entwining their fingers.
“My memories haunt me every second of every day. Our family, our friends, but you most of all. When it comes to you, I remember everything.”
*****
I remember everything.
And it turned out, she did.
Little by little, Raven’s walls began to crumble. Summer overflowed with a desperate, insatiable curiosity about her past. Sometimes Raven told her stories about a quiet and loyal man named Qrow, her twin brother who turned out to be Summer’s best friend. Vibrant poppies erupted at their feet as she spoke, scarlet as her eyes. Sometimes Raven shyly asked for any memories Summer could recall of Yang, and sometimes she listened carefully to Summer as she told Raven of her younger daughter. Sometimes they navigated the delicate territory of the heartbreak shared between them. It was complicated and messy, and Raven’s color would often fade into guilty pallor before she excused herself to wander on her own.
In a world where time was infinite, Summer could be patient.
The hazy light shifted from one horizon to the other. Raven led incoming souls to their journey. Summer continued to remember. The mountain beckoned.
*****
“What kept you here? You can feel the pull too, why didn’t you follow it?”
Raven palmed a flat stone from the riverbank and sent it skipping across the water. Summer waited. She knew that with a little patience she would have her answer, but this time the curiosity overwhelmed her restraint. It was a hard question to ask, but deep inside her Summer recognized that this kind of difficult conversation was nothing new to them.
“The spirits that come here will take the time they need to take to climb the mountain. You do a kind thing guiding them on their way but you don’t have to.” Raven didn’t meet Summer’s gaze. “This place is gentle, and so are you. You aren’t tied here, Raven, regardless of what you choose to believe.”
Raven shook her head and huffed a laugh, tossing a rock from palm to palm. Her silence stretched for a long moment.
“Maybe I stayed so that one day I could apologize.”
“For what?” Summer asked.
Another shake of her head, another smirk.
“Do you really not remember? Not even that?”
Summer tried to remember, but all she felt was fear once more. It clawed its way into her, edging deeper into her heart. She felt the urge to flee but she held firm, trapped in place by Raven’s wary gaze. The smile faded from Raven’s face and she looked out at the river, throwing the stone towards the water with no real care towards its direction. A second passed, two, and she met Summer’s eyes once more; a painful stare that bled acceptance. The river reflected a tempered silver.
“Maybe you’ll remember one day. If not, I promise I’ll tell you. You, most of all, deserve to know.”
*****
Summer and Raven stood upon the hillside. Sand dunes like soft pink and gold pillows gave way to craggy switchbacked paths cleaved into the mountainside. The pull was now a constant song that soothed, encouraged, and beckoned them both; like balancing on the edge of potential, waiting to rise. There was no longer a need to fight it.
Squinting, Summer strained to see through the mist to the peak beyond.
“What’s beyond it?”
“I don’t know.” Raven sighed, contemplating the jagged horizon.
“Is it better than here?”
“I don’t know.”
Irritation flared and Summer rolled her eyes.
“Is it different than here?”
“I hope so.”
Raven faded into herself once more. Summer reached out and took her hand in hers. The sensation of touch no longer felt numb, not when it came to Raven.
“I never got the chance to say goodbye.” Raven whispered hoarsely, trying and failing to disguise the break in her voice. “You. Yang. Qrow. Tai. All of them.” Dandelions blossomed and died at her feet.
“Neither did I. But here we are, and I think I need to see some purpose in that. Now we don’t have to say goodbye.”
They followed the path down the hillside and as they walked, the greys faded away. Summer looked in wonder at the world around her. Wildflowers bloomed in the fields stretching around them. The tall grasses eventually gave way to golden sandy dunes. Raven held back, clutching Summer’s hand tight.
“What is it?” Summer asked.
“It’s strange.” The breeze blew, tousling Raven’s bangs. She looked like sadness. “I never expected that I would get a second chance with you.” She looked like love.
So Summer reached for her and did the one thing that felt the most like love.
Raven hummed a soft sound of surprise against Summer’s lips, tentatively wrapping her arms around her. She couldn’t help it—Summer let her eyes open just long enough to see Raven’s eyelids flutter shut as she deepened the kiss. Summer’s smile grew against Raven’s lips— oh this was so funny, so familiar, so unsurprisingly Raven to still be so stiff and taken aback by things like affection. She tried and failed to stifle a bubbling laugh.
“What’s so funny?” Raven whispered against her mouth.
Summer raised a hand to cup Raven’s cheek. Her skin was warm against her palm.
“You. Just…it’s still you.”
*****
In a world where time was infinite, there was no reason to rush. They had years to make up for, after all. The patchy dune grass shivered in the breeze and swirls of sand tickled Summer’s feet in the shifting wind. The world brightened behind Summer’s eyes and when she opened them, everything around them was bathed in glorious light. The haze burned away, golden sun clearing a path through the monochromatic clouds. In its place the sky was a limitless azure pool.
Raven pulled back, looking around her in awe, before drawing Summer into a tight embrace. Summer buried her face into the soft skin where Raven’s neck met her shoulders and breathed deep the comforting, sun-toasted scent of her.
Gods, she had missed the sun.
She pressed a kiss to Raven’s collarbone as Raven ran her fingertips up and down Summer’s spine. They stood, wrapped in their embrace, rediscovering safety.
Remembering home.
“I hope there’s more of this on the other side.” Raven said.
“Mmm.” More light, more color, more of them…it didn’t matter what she really meant. “So do I.”
In the golden sunlight the mountain no longer looked so formidable. Glaciers shone as blue as the sky and the trail up the peak meandered gently through snow-dusted conifers. The desert dunes bloomed with tenacious life, no longer stark and barren. The pulling in their chests eased to a quiet suggestion.
They broke apart but their hands remained joined. Raven turned to Summer and raised her eyebrows in question, smiling serenely. “Are you ready?”
“The first step is always the hardest, but I know we took the first step years ago.” Summer replied.
“So let’s go.”