Zenith addresses some of her personal traumas with her partner, Cryptid, in the rainy early morning under the cover of their patio.

You can find the mobile-friendly version below, but things that are italicized in the download file won't be italicized because I don't have the energy for that, unfortunately.

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The rain brings Zenith a great amount of comfort. One of the few natural sounds she had access to growing up, albeit via noise machine, the sound of rain on concrete pavement or the tin roofing in the shed she was kept in is more than comforting. It’s soothing. It dulls an ache within her. A pain so deeply rooted into her that it’s become part of her personality.

She sits upright in their bed. Paradox is a heavy sleeper, but Cryptid is far more alert. She’s careful not to make too much noise as she moves away from Paradox, who had been laying on her arm. She needs to hear it again, the sound, the scent of the forest after it rains. She knows it did so recently, it’s Leaven, they get the most rain of any territory on Medley.

She steps outside, claws grazing the giant leaf beneath her. It’s so incredibly jarring to live on a massive leaf. It could fall at any moment, the cities built upon it are so fragile. Their lives are in constant danger.

And yet, as the sound of rain hits her ears, they perk up, and the rest of her body relaxes instantly. She sits in a chair on their patio, the horrible noise of the chair scraping the floor piercing the air and her eardrums. She’s certain she’ll have woken Cryptid up with that.

Minutes pass, and Zenith has finally managed to enjoy herself. The odd mixture of natural noise and busy city play distantly in her head. It’s early, but many primordials are going to work. She’s grateful spheres aren’t as common in Leaven as they are on Lusteria; they’re so loud and unpleasant. Convenient, maybe, but they’re horrible for the environment.

That’s probably what’s keeping them out of Leaven. Plant primordials know better than to toy with mother nature; she gives easily, but she can just as well take. Lightning primordials are missing a big part of being a primordial; the connection to nature. They have no nature anymore, it seems, other than cruelty.

Her musing is interrupted by a soft, low, vocalization from Cryptid. It communicates concern, but not quite worry, as she sits in the hammock parallel to Zenith. She lays down on her stomach, the tiny, feathered wings covered in that soft, fluffy substance that sticks to them at all times. It’s not even visible to other primordials, but as a fellow aether, Zenith can see it, too.

Zenith lets out a soft squeak, partially strangled. She’s aware that Paradox and Cryptid communicate non-verbally very often, but it’s not for her. She opens her maw. “I’m okay,” She whispers. “Just needed some time outside.”

The larger aether primordial nods knowingly, but does not speak, not yet at least. She tips her head to the sky, sniffing the air. Little more than the scent of rain passes through her snout, but it’s loud enough to compel Zenith to do the same. “It’s nice, isn’t it?” Her voice is low, smooth, and comforting.

Zenith nods. “I was rarely around to spend time outside on Lusteria,” She says. “Even when I was, it was always during the summer. My caretaker knew I never wanted to be out there during that time.”

“You don’t have to call her that anymore,” Cryptid says suddenly. It catches Zenith off guard. “You changed your name. Change hers, too. Tsunami. I have some very, very unkind words I’d use to describe her, if you’d like.” She offers a toothy grin, and if Zenith didn’t know any better, she’d bet she was about to be a meal.

“All Tsunami makes me feel is fear and anger,” Zenith confesses. “It’s barely even who she was in my head anymore. Caretaker. That’s her name.”

Cryptid opens her mouth to speak, but bites her tongue on the comment. “Well, that’s alright. Do you mind if Para and I keep calling her by it?”

Zenith shrugs, her heart racing. “I don’t really have a preference.” She says, all too casually for Cryptid’s liking.

“Zen,” She says, sharply. It tugs on Zenith’s heart, strongly. “Love. You don’t have to have a preference, but if you do, it does matter. I just wanted to remind you of that. You aren’t there anymore.”

Zenith swallows thickly, a knot in her throat preventing her from feeling any relief. “I guess you’re right,” She whispers. “I’d rather you just call her caretaker. I don’t think she deserves a real name. She’s… more of a concept, I think. Like a… a horrible obstacle in my edgy backstory.” She smiles slightly, but the tears pricking at her eyes tell Cryptid all she needs to know.

The bigger aether primordial adjusts in the hammock, laying on her back, offering Zenith a spot in her lap. In that instant, a wave of emotion overtakes Zenith. Love, to be wanted, to have someone care, it’s everything she’s ever dreamed of.

And she doesn’t want it. It’s so new and scary, it’s so… unfamiliar. She’s afraid of losing it, she can’t- But--

“Hey,” Cry’s voice gently cuts her out of her thoughts. “You don’t have to come over. It’s your choice.”

“Please pick for me.” Zenith says. “Choosing things for myself is so overwhelming…” That’s the word. Overwhelming. It’s not necessarily good or bad, it’s everything all at once.

“C’mere,” She whispers, knowing Zenith will stay put if she really doesn’t want this. She shuffles over, jumping up into the hammock with Cryptid.

“I know I’m, um, not like Paradox, but thank you for this…” Zenith murmurs.

“No one is like Paradox,” Cryptid smiles. “You’re you. And I love you just as much.”

Zenith begins to sob, it overtakes her so quickly it catches her off guard. She’s not sure what to do, but Cryptid seems to know, taking her arms around the smaller woman and pulling her in close.

Time passes, she’s not sure how much, and Paradox appears at Zenith’s side at some point, but she’s not sure when or how. She’s tiny in her feral form, making sure Zenith is comfortable with their position. The hammock is big, but it can only carry so much weight. Paradox nuzzles into Zenith’s side as the tears begin to calm.

“Cryptid had this too, once. This… ‘overwhelmed by love’ feeling.” Paradox explains softly.

“She did?”

“Most primordials do, I think.” Cryptid confesses. “It’s really hard to adjust to being loved. It’s so new and different, and I think in our survival mode, that’s scary.”

“It… it is…” Zenith admits. “I’m always worried you guys will leave because I’m… I’m not enough, in some way.”

“Your best will always be enough, Zenith.” Paradox whispers, nuzzling a little deeper into her partner’s stomach. Zenith tries not to giggle, but the display of affection tickles her.

Paradox notices, but pauses, leaving Zenith feeling… strangely disappointed.

And it must show, because Paradox giggles. “You want me to tickle you?”

She finds herself flustered by the question. “N- um--”

“We can do it later,” Cryptid murmurs. “When you’re not both on top of me.”

“Mmfh, fine!” Paradox says with mock disdain. “We love you, Zenith. Don’t ever forget that.” She touches her muzzle to her partner’s, who smiles slightly.

“I love you guys too…”