heart, mind, soul ღ

Chapter One

I grew up surrounded by love. There was just me and my moms and my sisters and my friends and Nurse and nothing but overwhelming, all-empowering love. I basked in it, grew used to its light. Maybe that was the problem. Maybe that great shining glow made it impossible for me to imagine any kind of future without a glow that shown even greater. We all romanticize the Joining, but I'll be the first to admit that maybe - just maybe - I romanticize it more than most.

But then, Moms say I'm capable of romanticizing pretty much everything. I wince as something pokes my hip, but even being repeatedly used as a pincushion can't bring me down from the high I'm riding on, the hope and excitement that's burrowed into my heart.

So yeah. My moms are probably right.

I slap away another sharp pinch. Romanticization can't exactly hold up when you're bleeding to death, can it? Or anything-ing to death, for that matter. Means it can't last as long, and where's the fun in that?

"Don't slap your mother, Eila. You're not a child."

I open my mouth to retort because, actually, I am still a child, and I will be for another couple weeks, so how dare she suggest I not make the most of that time. I fully acknowledge that it was a shitty move to smack Mora like that, but if Erna wants to pull that argument, then

"Don't listen to her." Mora's airy voice surely drifts to Erna's ears as well as my own. "You'll always be our little girl, even if the cost is a couple swats along the way." She smiles up at me, tears welling in her oversized blue eyes, and stars if that's not enough to make me feel bad. "Besides, I daresay I could use some practice at this."

The needle comes deadly close to my bare thigh as she gestures with it. I do my best to take a very measured step away, but she notices. Mora always notices, always watching with those overlarge eyes, my shape but not my color. I never really stood a chance. I brace myself for chastisement.

All that comes is a laugh that I can feel as well as hear.

"Oh, sweetest, I'm sorry. I should have stopped to think if I was really the best choice to do this for you, but I just wanted to-"

"I know what you wanted to do," I assure her, and it's true - I can feel her bone-deep sincerity. She hadn't been comfortable enough with the craft to make Terra's garb for her first joining, but that was three years ago. There had been plenty of time to practice since then, just... Never with a live model. "And I do want you to do this for me, just... Be careful, okay? You're going to stain the dress."

A rush of gratitude floods my senses, and I push my love toward her in return. A simple mental thank you would have done just as well, but Mora's always been of the mind that emotions speak louder than words. And I can see her point. Even in your mental scape, you can twist words and tell lies - but emotions? Emotions are emotions, open, honest, and true. They're something you can deny, but not something you can get rid of or fake. They're always there, always trying to tell us something.

Everything Mora does is rooted in understanding. Even the bare beginnings of my Joining garment reflect it. The sheer pink fabric drapes and loops over my body, light enough that I hardly know it's there. It's folded and pinned precisely so that it moves with me without hindering my steps. It shows that she watches me, far more than Erna or Shara. She knows that I like to wander and skip and dance and run; the drapings cling to my legs so I might move, hang loose and free so I might fly.

I twist back-and-forth ever-so slightly when Mora reaches for another pin, admiring the gentle flutter. She stops when she sees what I am doing, my projected waves of happiness pulling her lips into a smile, a smile I cannot help but return.