Take What Resonates - Part 1
Note: I'm not even sure where this is going yet, since it's half-inspired by an actual friendship I had, tarot readings invading my feeds, and some really wild thoughts I've been having recently.
Like, ya'll might judge me for this one. lol Not going to lie.
(unserious) Summary: Ophelia Wayward, human woman and witch, was living life with her partner and family in Raven Row when a familiar face moves in down the street. A painfully familiar face that sends her emotions into an uproar.
Hrazeth 'Seth' More is an orc man going through a divorce when he decides to move to Raven Row. He's totally sure what he's doing with his life while he's dealing with his (second) divorce and moving to a city that he swears was just a good move for him and his kids. Seriously. There's nothing more to it.
x x x
The day was bright and warm, with a faint breeze kicking up. Ophelia found herself trailing after her son, Void, and the new friends he had made as they walked half a block. They spoke low enough she couldn’t hear, but Void hadn’t wanted her to follow and welcome the newcomers’ parents to the neighborhood either.
In moments like this, she marveled at how easily her son made friends, even when he denied his affability. Out of everything, it made Ophelia feel like she was doing something right as a parent. Even if he had taken a staunch stance on his own solitary capabilities.
She vaguely wondered what was so familiar about the newcomers, Miri and Alex, that tickled at her brain. The two had moved in just before the new school year, with the sister in the same ninth grade class as Void. Both Miri and Alex shared the same light brown skin and long elven ears, though Miri sported a head of golden curls and Alex had a shaggy dark brown mop-top.
Realization escaped Ophelia as they quickly came to their destination. There was still a moving truck outside the house and, as they approached, she caught the sounds of someone moving inside the truck’s back.
“Dad?” Picking up her pace, Miri jogged toward the truck with Alex tailing at her heels.
“There you two are, you had me worried!”
Something inside Ophelia stilled as dreadful familiarity threaded through her mind, even as her feet followed Void, rounding the end of the truck. Suddenly, the sunlight felt too hot, the breeze not strong enough.
Unaware of the turmoil happening inside her friend’s mother, Miri answered her father, “I texted you and told you me and a friend were getting Alex from the middle school before heading home.”
“I still worried,” said the orc man as he leaned toward Miri, one arm braced against the opening of the doorway.
The fact he stood in a moving truck made him seem far taller than he was, which made something in Ophelia cringe deeper into her stomach. She knew he was seven foot tall, from past conversations.
He hadn’t seen much sun, with his sage green skin skewing pale and close to a sort of light olive brown. The blunted points of his tusks had long been filed down, nearly to his lower lip. His dark hair seemed lighter, threaded with greys that weren’t there seven years previously. He had also grown more ‘fatherly’ in figure, particularly in the stomach area, which she wondered if he’d grown frustrated by.
The sinking sensation in Ophelia’s stomach struck her knees as his grey-blue eyes – heavy with bags, she couldn’t help noticing – flicked to where she and Void stood. Something in his stance indescribably stilled. Or maybe Ophelia was seeing something that wasn’t there.
“This is my friend and his mom,” Miri chirruped, her hand swinging from Void to Ophelia. She completely missed the brief second of surprise that brushed over her father’s face.
It had been seven years. Did he even recognize her or did he only feel a vague sense of recognition? Ophelia knew her weight had fluctuated over the years, but now she dressed more confidently and in ways that accentuated her body. The years had surely aged her face as it had his and threaded her hair with greys.
Desperate to not have a confrontation in front of the kids, Ophelia jumped forward with a smile and a wave, trying to transmit through her gaze he should not say anything in front of the kids. “Hi, I’m Ophelia Wayward, she/they, and this is my son, Void, he/they.”
“Seth More,” he replied carefully, after a beat of staring into her nearly manic smile. He coughed, adding awkwardly as he raised his hand to initiate a handshake. “Uh, he/him. I guess.”
Seth. Hah. Ophelia supposed she could see how one could get Seth from Hrazeth. Still, it made something inside her chest twinge. While this was a name change born of identity desires, it felt more socially driven than individual. She kept a smile forcefully trained on her lips as she took the orc man’s outstretched hand and shook it.
She tried to ignore the zap of sensation that shot up her arm, focusing on timing a normal handshake before releasing his hand. There was no way he felt the same delusional sensation, too. He couldn’t have kept such a stoic, if cautiously curious, expression if he had. She could barely keep eye contact, after all.
“Well, I just wanted to introduce myself. Welcome you to the neighborhood, yadda yadda. But you seem busy so we’ll get out of your hair now.” Ophelia waved her hands, partially a nervous habit but also an attempt to shake off the prickling sensation in her palms.
“I thought you wanted to help them unpack,” piped up Void, earning him a look from his mother. He grinned, delighting in being a challenge. “Community and all that, right?”
“I’m not sure if there’s a lot for me to do,” Ophelia tried to lie in front of all the boxes, but her son’s unwavering critical expression made her crumble as soon as the words were out. Stifling her resigned sigh, she aimed another forced smile in Seth’s direction. She tried not to let her shoulders droop too noticeably. “But if you need help, I’m here.”
Something flickered in Seth’s expression and she almost bit her own tongue. She probably had said something similar in the past and he now had definite confirmation about who she was. Dammit.
Whatever realization or suspicions simmered behind his eyes, Seth hid it with a clearing of his throat. “I could use some help getting these into the kitchen. A lot of dishes.”
Satisfied with his mother’s defeat, Void turned to Miri and Alex, offering to help them unpack as well. The two accepted eagerly and Ophelia watched dismally as the trio disappeared into the house.
It was only when Seth spoke up that her sullen silence fractured. “So, uh, Void?”
The roll of her eyes came on suddenly, her politely sunny expression dampening.
“Yes, Void. Though you knew him by his dead name last saw him, but he’s cycled through a couple other names while doing some identity exploration for the last five years.” Ophelia shrugged, not looking at him as she ascended the ramp into the truck. She surveyed the tidy mess of boxes, hefting one labeled ‘kitchen’ into her arms. It weighed heavily in her grip, likely some aforementioned dishes.
Unable to keep a lock on her trap, she continued to speak as Seth hoisted a pile of five boxes in his arms. “He might change his name again. I heard him tossing around the name Acrylic with a friend during a video call.”
“Isn’t it confusing,” asked the orc man as he trailed after her.
Ophelia paused at the bottom of the ramp, leveling a sharp look at his face. She wondered if he had forgotten some key parts of her history. “No, not really. Just like it wasn’t difficult when Laurel did it.”
Despite being taller than her, and given added advantage, Seth’s shoulders hunched at her sharp words. “Oh, yeah, right.”
She eyed him for a second longer, as if weighing how likely it was he had forgotten Laurel – his friend before Ophelia – and her transition. Though, she quickly decided it didn’t matter and turned to exit the truck.
The relief bloomed in Seth’s voice as he called out after her, “Uh, the kitchen is–“
“I know where it is,” she interrupted, not wanting his direction. She nearly bit her tongue when she realized how strange that might sound. Like stalker-y kind of strange.
And just as she thought that, a steely stillness returned to Seth’s body language at the front door of his new home. “You know?”
“We were friends with the neighbors who lived here before.” Ophelia shrugged, unable to look back at him as she maneuvered the stairs into the home. She had managed to get the door open and held it open with her elbow. “Void was friends with their kids, too.”
“You got a friendly kid,” he mused, coming up behind her to brace the front door with his foot.
She wished he hadn’t. It put him in such a close proximity, her heart tripped up as his body heat nearly caressed her. Faint memories of tickled her forethoughts, mostly of the opposite situation. Nights where they hung out, watching something, at opposite ends of a couch. Those memories were skewered by the few brief moments of them sitting side by side or the single hug incident.
“Yep, sure do. Couldn’t be prouder of him,” she mumbled as she quickly entered the house, trying to flee both Seth and the memories.
Even if she hadn’t known the floorplan, the kitchen was easily spotted from the front door, though it lay beyond the foyer and a dining room. Charging into the kitchen, she surveyed drop off options for her box and set the box down near a pile of brethren on the floor.
As she straightened, Seth entered the kitchen and she headed toward the exit without looking at the orc man. “I’m going to go get another box.”
Despite the amount of boxes he had hauled in and the fact he could set about unpacking, Seth soon rejoined Ophelia out in the moving truck. Once more he hefted more boxes than Ophelia could manage. She bitterly commented on it in her head, but held her tongue as she trekked back inside with another heavy box.
As they made a second transit into the kitchen, he cleared his throat. “So, uh, are you and Laurel…”
Ophelia set the box down as Seth trailed off, seemingly unable to finish his question with her eyes on him. Intuition had her filling in the blanks. “Yeah, we’re still together if that’s what you’re asking.”
“Ah,” he said, though it sounded more like a clearing of his throat as he slowly lowered the boxes to the tiled floor. Seth’s eyes found the courage to wobble back to her face as he straightened. “And are you still…?”
Failing to fight down her frown, Ophelia crossed her arms and tried not to bristle. “Still what?”
His voice dipped lower, uncertain and almost mouthing his next words as if they were a curse. “ENM?”
She fought down a roll of her eyes. Ethically non-monogamous or ENM had been a term that took root on dating apps more quickly than polyamorous for some reason. It was a vapid distinction, but she supposed in a world rife with cheating and fear of said cheating, focusing on the ‘ethical’ part soothed potential hurt feelings. Still, a little annoyance bloomed inside her. She had spoken to Seth about polyamory – and how she and Laurel had become so – in the past to him.
The revelation had come about after she mentioned the outlandish conversation she had with some guy on a dating app. Which led to Seth casting her a critical look and asking if Laurel knew she was on dating sites. Ophelia had to spill the beans about their polyamory, just to smooth that line in his forehead. The way he had responded, insisting he was purely monogamous, still made a mingling sensation of frustration and guilt prickle in her chest.
“Yes, we’re still ethically non-monogamous or polyamorous or open. Whatever is most understandable.” Pivoting the conversation away from herself, Ophelia turned it on Seth. Despite her best efforts, she couldn’t keep her smile from feeling slightly edged. “And how about you? Got a partner yourself?”
Miri and Alex were from his prior marriage, but in the seven years since she last interacted with Seth, she knew he had become committed to someone else again. During his first divorce, he had been throwing himself headlong into dating at a pace Ophelia considered maniacal. Like he feared being alone for too long.
If he hadn’t been dating, he’d either been vaping or drinking in his free time, as far as she knew.
Or hanging out with you, a small traitorous voice hissed at the back of Ophelia’s brain, but she ignored it.
Seth slowly nodded, rubbing the back of his neck. “I had a partner. We’re in the process of a divorce.”
“Oof, sorry to hear that.” And she genuinely was. Finding someone – particularly a someone to call his and only his – to weather the years with was important to him.
Seth laughed weakly, though his face had crimped into a wince as he continued, “We have two kids together, too. A three-year-old and a two-year-old.”
Ophelia bit her tongue – it would be a swollen painful lump by the end of this visit – to keep from saying ‘history repeats itself.’ Miri and Alex had been a little older during Seth’s first divorce, so it wasn’t an exact repetition.
His eyes flickered to her face and that wince of a smile dribbled away. “Go ahead and say it.”
“Say what?” Confusion wrinkled her brow as her eyebrows drew together.
“You were going to comment on how history repeats itself or something, right?” His lips thinned, but Ophelia couldn’t read the expression. He had always been too guarded to get a decent read on him. “I’ve been thinking about that, too. Everything’s been pretty similar, except I didn’t have you to talk to this time around.”
Heat licked through Ophelia, hearing her very thoughts echoed in his words before he brought up the past. Suddenly, standing four feet away in the kitchen wasn’t nearly enough distance. It made her skin itch. But, once again, she tried to pivot the conversation. “What made you move to Raven Row?”
She and Laurel had moved from the big city of Whitburn, where they had last known Seth, to the smaller city of Raven Row four years ago. Which made the fact he was even here, as their new neighbor, even more mindboggling, she realized.
“I saw Laurel post about Raven Row after moving here. She seemed really pleased and I just thought about it once Deidre and I started talking about divorce.” Seth angled his gaze up to a cobwebbed corner as uncertainty wheedled through Ophelia’s mind. “Houses are cheaper and Miri is going to be looking at colleges soon, so it just seemed like a good option.”
Once more, Ophelia had to bite her tongue. Laurel had unfriended Seth a while ago, a few weeks after he stopped talking to Ophelia, in fact. Which meant Seth had been creeping on Laurel’s social media years after the unfriending. He couldn’t creep on Ophelia’s, however, since he had blocked her.
“What’s with that face?”
Her eyes snapped to Seth just as she felt the tension in her pursed lips. Forcing her expression to ease, she tried to conjure up another faux smile, but it didn’t quite come to her lips. Under Seth’s steady gaze, Ophelia averted her gaze. “Just thinking about the timeline. Laurel cut contact with you years before we moved out of Whitburn.”
“Yeah.” Seth crossed his arms over his chest, raising an eyebrow. “Are you going to say you didn’t keep tabs on me online? Or through your scrying mirror?”
Ophelia couldn’t respond to that honestly. She had a burner account on most of the popular social medias, and, on occasion, she’d look up old school classmates, friends she had fallen away from, or even, yes, Seth. However, the fact he called out her awakened magic nearly made her choke. Had Laurel talked about that on her account? She probably did. She was always more open than Ophelia herself.
Clearing her throat, she tried to mask her surprise by remaining casual, if a little barbed. “Touche. I won’t lie and say I haven’t cyber-snooped on you, but you have most stuff private, so I only really saw occasional political posts. Kind of fell off on checking.”
Seth cocked his head, eyes narrowing as he leaned back against a counter. “How about recently?”
She inhaled sharply, her lips pressing tightly together as her eyes bounced away from him. Gods, was she that transparent? Over the summer, the urge to check on him had come upon her suddenly. It had surprised even herself. It didn’t help that tarot readings concerning ‘twin flames’ and ‘divine counterparts’ had cropped up on her TikTiks or TubeYou feeds. It had been leaking into her feeds for months before she finally caved and clicked on one. Then she couldn’t stop watching them.
It had taken so much self-discipline to tell herself they weren’t actually for her. The Universe wasn’t actually trying to tell her something. Just a string of coincidences. It didn’t stop her from watching or listening to the videos while she did other things, rolling her eyes every time an alleged, specific synchronicity genuinely matched.
Yet, here he was, living down the street from her. Hells, one of his kids went to the same high school as Void.
Digging into her a little further, Seth almost accusatorily added, “You didn’t seem all that surprised I was going through another divorce.”
When he spoke, she shot him another sharp look, her focus on his blunted tusks. “I don’t think you ever figured yourself out, so no, I’m not surprised.”
The words came out harsher than she intended. She only realized it as the energy in the room snapped, as Seth straightened despite still leaning against the counter. There was a flicker of anger in his eyes, restrained but there. “I’m a grown-ass orc. What do I have to figure out?”
Shit and now they were in a stand-off, because of her words. With a sharp inhale, Ophelia held up a hand. “Give me a second.”
Her vision flickered at the edges and she tilted her head down, using her free hand to pinch the bridge of her nose as she fended off the heat growing in her eyes. Old memories and new information were difficult to process with Hrazeth – no, Seth – standing right there.
Wasn’t it obvious he hadn’t figured himself out? With his blunted tusks and pallid features, a second failed marriage with a new set of children to juggle? History repeats, cycles continue, until one broke them.
Something churned through Ophelia. Her sense of ‘self’ she sometimes considered it, but it wanted to reach toward something inside Seth. Maybe his own ‘self’ that she thought he kept buried. Deeper memories roused. Old, old memories of her own struggles, her own Tragic Backstory™, her own pains. Projecting those feelings onto Seth wasn’t fair to him and she couldn’t be sure he truly felt the same.
“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have said that,” Ophelia stiltedly said as her eyes opened, though she kept them trained on the floor. “You are an adult and I can’t tell you who you are or what to be and I’m not trying to tell you how to be.”
From the corner of her sight, she could see something in Seth’s stance ease. As relieved as that made her, she really needed that distance.
“I can’t deal with this conversation right now. All of this,” Ophelia made an encompassing gesture, including the house and Seth, “is a lot to process.”
She started to edge toward the exit, feeling claustrophobic. “You can send Void home whenever. We’re just down the street.”
“Alright, take care.” He made a motion with his hand, something of a half-assed wave to display his still simmering anger, but she had already turned. She barely made it out of the kitchen before he hit her with a grudgingly, but relatively mild, parting sentiment. “Thank you for your help.”
Ophelia paused in the dining room, her lungs twinging with lack of air. Those words. Those damn words. Were they woven with hidden meaning? With a deeper message? Or was her mind playing tricks? Was he really only thanking her for help with moving two boxes? Or was there more?
Seth always had this ability to confound her. He’d say something and something in her caught onto a hidden meaning that may not even be there. Daring to look back at him, Ophelia tried to gauge reality. He stood in the kitchen, still leaning back against a counter, watching her. Everything about him seemed nonchalant, at ease. Not tense like he was waiting for her to realize the secret code in his words.
Yet something vibrated through her. A knowingness that her instincts, her intuitions, were correct. Or maybe just those senses of selves – his and hers – resonating.
But Seth made no indication there was some ethereal understanding. He just stared at her.
A second too long had passed. The silence and his waiting expression bore down on her. Ophelia opened her mouth to say something but couldn’t find any words. Humming in acknowledgement, she tipped her head in a shallow nod and forced herself to leave.
x x x
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