╒════════════》»❂«《════════════╕
▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄
▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄
╘════════════》»❂«《════════════╛
▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄
▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄
╘════════════》»❂«《════════════╛
Tiray hummed and whispered to no one in particular as she worked on closing her shop. It was a standard procedure- there was a pattern to it, she handled closing time at the Diviner's Deck the same way every day with very little of a break in the pattern. She liked it like this. It was a sense of familiarity that calmed her down in the face of how unpredictable living in Regalia could be. She almost never got customers at the actual shop anyways- she usually had to transport her goods to the stall in the market hall and make sales there because almost nobody ever ventured all the way to Hangroad for a reading, no matter how accurate or inaccurate she was at what she did.
The shop was more of a safe haven- somewhere she could safely craft and store her potions and goods, somewhere she could decompress at, somewhere she could handle more private appointments. A safe spot for her to fall back on whenever she needed. Almost no one ever intruded, especially during closing hours.
As such, Tiray was surprised when she heard the shop bell jingle. Baffled, she sat the cards she'd been reorganizing back on the table, and stood, bustling out to the front room.
"Hey, sorry, we're closing soon. What can I—."
Tiray froze.
There, right in front of her, less than three feet ahead, stood a carbon copy of herself. Every detail aside from one was exactly the same as Tiray. This doppelgänger had pale indigo-blue eyes, while Tiray had pale periwinkle-blue eyes. It was a subtle difference, but Tiray recognized it. She knew this difference better than she knew the lines and creases of her palm. Porim. There stood, not a double, but her sister. Identical in every way, born exactly thirteen minutes and four seconds after Tiray. Her twin. A woman she never thought she'd see again. Tiray couldn't breathe, couldn't move, she felt her arms go cold as ice and she could feel her eyes stinging from how long she'd been staring. She couldn't blink. She was scared that if she did, Porim would disappear.
Tiray barely registered that Porim has been talking the entire time she'd been spiralling from shock. Tiray croaked a pathetic, faint noise, which seemed to shut her sister up- not that she wanted that. She wanted to hear Porim's voice, she cursed herself for not paying closer attention. The two stood and stared for a long while.
Tiray counted the seconds perfectly as stiff silence encased the room, and nothing moved. Exactly fifty-two seconds passed before the world began turning again.
Porim broke first, taking several slow steps towards Tiray. The way she was handling the situation wasn't so dissimilar to how one would approach a startled animal, and it left a sour taste in Tiray's mouth; Granted, it wasn't an entirely inaccurate way to handle the situation. Tiray's hands were trembling, shock written clear as day across her face in spite of her rounded shades covering most of her expression. No matter how much Tiray loathed being treated like glass, she couldn't deny that, chances are, she would've broken into a sprint and fled the shop if Porim were acting even the slightest bit less careful than she was right now. Why, though? This was her sister. Tiray felt a part of her heart soar- this was her sister! She hadn't seen Porim in years, she thought she'd never see her sister again- and if Porim was here, Tiray would surely be reunited with the rest of her family soon too.
Another part of Tiray's heart went cold with fear and uncertainty- this was her sister. How would her family react to all that had happened and changed about Tiray since she last saw them? Would they be disappointed? Would they demand answers? How would Porim react when she inevitably found out what happened? Would she interrogate Tiray on what had caused her disappearance almost four decades ago? Or would Porim let her keep her secrets and suffering hidden? Could Tiray have her book of secrets, chain it shut and procrastinate addressing the loose pages that would slip out now and again for as long as possible- and more importantly, would Porim refrain from prying and let her hide everything away? Tiray was dragged from the spiralling train of thought by a voice.
"You're stressed," Porim murmured, ever observant of the smallest, most minuscule details that alerted her of her sister's distress. Tiray could hide behind a facade all she wanted, build walls and clutch her hands behind her back to hide how they trembled, but Porim would still be able to tell there was something ever so slightly off. A thousand years with no contact could go by, and Porim would still recognize signs of distress in her twin.
"The sky is blue," Tiray mumbled back, cracking a forced grin as she hid worry with wit.
In spite of the stubborn response, Porim persevered, extending a hand- only to falter when Tiray flinched, elven ears dropping in clear alarm- fight or flight kicked in too easily, and it let slip just enough information about what Tiray had been through- just enough, so that Porim's heart panged with guilt, worry and uncertainty.
"Can I?" She all but whispered, and Tiray offered little more than a hesitant nod after a century-long second of patiently waiting for a response. Porim tried again, extending her hand to gently push Tiray's crimson-tinted shades up to rest on her head rather than the bridge of her nose, meanwhile her other hand lifted to cup Tiray's cheek. Porim wore the smallest, gentlest smile, and Tiray's already thin resolve in the face of shock crumbled as she offered a watery smile back to her sister.
Both their voices clipped when they spoke again. The exchange was short. It was all they had to say.
"I'm here now."
"I'm sorry."
"I know. It's alright now. I'm sorry too."
Tiray's vision was blurred with tears from the soft exchange, and she almost immediately staggered forward to collapse into her sister's embrace. Home. Tiray had missed home so, so much. And now she had it back. That sense of kinship. Her family. Blood.
A coin has two sides. Both sides mean and represent something different, but they're still one. You can have a coin flipped with the heads side up as long as you want, but the tails side will never go away. It's just the same the other way around- No matter what, you can't separate the sides of that coin, they're still attached somehow, still one in the same.
Two sides of one coin.
The shop was more of a safe haven- somewhere she could safely craft and store her potions and goods, somewhere she could decompress at, somewhere she could handle more private appointments. A safe spot for her to fall back on whenever she needed. Almost no one ever intruded, especially during closing hours.
As such, Tiray was surprised when she heard the shop bell jingle. Baffled, she sat the cards she'd been reorganizing back on the table, and stood, bustling out to the front room.
"Hey, sorry, we're closing soon. What can I—."
Tiray froze.
There, right in front of her, less than three feet ahead, stood a carbon copy of herself. Every detail aside from one was exactly the same as Tiray. This doppelgänger had pale indigo-blue eyes, while Tiray had pale periwinkle-blue eyes. It was a subtle difference, but Tiray recognized it. She knew this difference better than she knew the lines and creases of her palm. Porim. There stood, not a double, but her sister. Identical in every way, born exactly thirteen minutes and four seconds after Tiray. Her twin. A woman she never thought she'd see again. Tiray couldn't breathe, couldn't move, she felt her arms go cold as ice and she could feel her eyes stinging from how long she'd been staring. She couldn't blink. She was scared that if she did, Porim would disappear.
Tiray barely registered that Porim has been talking the entire time she'd been spiralling from shock. Tiray croaked a pathetic, faint noise, which seemed to shut her sister up- not that she wanted that. She wanted to hear Porim's voice, she cursed herself for not paying closer attention. The two stood and stared for a long while.
Tiray counted the seconds perfectly as stiff silence encased the room, and nothing moved. Exactly fifty-two seconds passed before the world began turning again.
Porim broke first, taking several slow steps towards Tiray. The way she was handling the situation wasn't so dissimilar to how one would approach a startled animal, and it left a sour taste in Tiray's mouth; Granted, it wasn't an entirely inaccurate way to handle the situation. Tiray's hands were trembling, shock written clear as day across her face in spite of her rounded shades covering most of her expression. No matter how much Tiray loathed being treated like glass, she couldn't deny that, chances are, she would've broken into a sprint and fled the shop if Porim were acting even the slightest bit less careful than she was right now. Why, though? This was her sister. Tiray felt a part of her heart soar- this was her sister! She hadn't seen Porim in years, she thought she'd never see her sister again- and if Porim was here, Tiray would surely be reunited with the rest of her family soon too.
Another part of Tiray's heart went cold with fear and uncertainty- this was her sister. How would her family react to all that had happened and changed about Tiray since she last saw them? Would they be disappointed? Would they demand answers? How would Porim react when she inevitably found out what happened? Would she interrogate Tiray on what had caused her disappearance almost four decades ago? Or would Porim let her keep her secrets and suffering hidden? Could Tiray have her book of secrets, chain it shut and procrastinate addressing the loose pages that would slip out now and again for as long as possible- and more importantly, would Porim refrain from prying and let her hide everything away? Tiray was dragged from the spiralling train of thought by a voice.
"You're stressed," Porim murmured, ever observant of the smallest, most minuscule details that alerted her of her sister's distress. Tiray could hide behind a facade all she wanted, build walls and clutch her hands behind her back to hide how they trembled, but Porim would still be able to tell there was something ever so slightly off. A thousand years with no contact could go by, and Porim would still recognize signs of distress in her twin.
"The sky is blue," Tiray mumbled back, cracking a forced grin as she hid worry with wit.
In spite of the stubborn response, Porim persevered, extending a hand- only to falter when Tiray flinched, elven ears dropping in clear alarm- fight or flight kicked in too easily, and it let slip just enough information about what Tiray had been through- just enough, so that Porim's heart panged with guilt, worry and uncertainty.
"Can I?" She all but whispered, and Tiray offered little more than a hesitant nod after a century-long second of patiently waiting for a response. Porim tried again, extending her hand to gently push Tiray's crimson-tinted shades up to rest on her head rather than the bridge of her nose, meanwhile her other hand lifted to cup Tiray's cheek. Porim wore the smallest, gentlest smile, and Tiray's already thin resolve in the face of shock crumbled as she offered a watery smile back to her sister.
Both their voices clipped when they spoke again. The exchange was short. It was all they had to say.
"I'm here now."
"I'm sorry."
"I know. It's alright now. I'm sorry too."
Tiray's vision was blurred with tears from the soft exchange, and she almost immediately staggered forward to collapse into her sister's embrace. Home. Tiray had missed home so, so much. And now she had it back. That sense of kinship. Her family. Blood.
A coin has two sides. Both sides mean and represent something different, but they're still one. You can have a coin flipped with the heads side up as long as you want, but the tails side will never go away. It's just the same the other way around- No matter what, you can't separate the sides of that coin, they're still attached somehow, still one in the same.
Two sides of one coin.
