Aureate Fates

45

TAKE MY BREATH, LIVE

—THEMA—

The maids benefitted from Marisol's self-defense lessons. They would not go silently. Some jabbed and ducked—then sprinted away in fear of being taken back to the enemy base. She wished she could have helped them all.

Thema used the ghosts that were presented to her, revealing them in all of their terror and anger to the men with green armbands. She let the ghosts feast on them, drain the light from their eyes.

It was the least she could do to help defend the country that gave her a second chance at freedom. That rid her of a scandalous reputation.

Delphinia was in the villages, unable to plan prospectively. Her second sight had gone black, and all there was left for her to do was blindly defend her precious country.

Thema, on the other hand, had seen glimpses of the end. She wished she could have relied on a protective ignorance.

A stocky looking soldier, bloody and with the presence of a green armband, swiped his sword down over her. Thema stumbled back, wondering why the soldier didn't seem to fear the spirits around her, the ones without the veil.

The tip of the sword met her forearm, slicing through clammy skin to reach blue blood. As the soldier looked at her with empty pools of black, he brought down the sword again. The blow never came.

A loud bullet went through the man's skull, ridding him of his task. The soldier appeared almost relieved to face his death. Drew stood there, his own creation held limply in both hands. Looking at the fallen soldier, he released a shaky breath, then swallowed.

When he turned to Thema, golden hair positively tousled and smile apologetic, he said, "My turn to save you, friend."

And she would never get to tell him how much she wished him monumental success and eternal happiness. Her friend.

She saw the knife before it went into Drew's spine, glinting in the moonlight and already stained with blood. But there was no time to grab him, and she didn't possess the power to turn back time.

The eyes of the brightest boy alive dimmed slowly as he fell to his knees, a look of confusion on his delicate features. The weapon clattered from his hands, and his breaths slowed, the sound in her ears resounding.

Thema hadn't known pain like this. She was sure she was screaming.

Drew shook his head, eyes welling with tears. "Reese," his words were shallow and doused in affliction.

The soldier behind him had a brutal gleam in his eyes as he prepared to drive the knife into Thema. He hadn't the faintest idea of what he had just done.

Drew Orvar's final breath was soft, but inexplicably sorrowful—a twisted farewell to his extravagant life.

At a vengeful speed, the soldier behind Drew fell, his neck snapping with such force that it nearly severed from his body. Reese's hair was blood red, his eyes a violent black. He looked to Thema, calmly, then slowly turned his attention down to Drew at his feet.

Reese tumbled to his knees, looking as if his soul had been shredded and removed. Torn from him without warning. His eyes shattered, his breath stealing. Drew's form was pale, his blue eyes flat and cold.

"No, no, no," Reese muttered under his breath, gathering Drew's body in his arms. "You—No."

Reese's mouth was twisted dangerously, his hands covered in blood. "Lovely, please," he pleaded with the corpse. "Talk to me, my love." He placed his hand on Drew's heart, beginning to panic.

He wouldn't accept the death of his greatest love. Drew, who was constantly beaming with radiating light and a shy smile.

"Dammit, Drew," Reese cursed, tightening his grip on the dead boy. He hung his head, an action of someone who was defeated. "I promised you, lovely."

Reese began to breath fast, gaining a terrifying scowl. The ground began to tremble. Their enemies toppled over each other.

Thema closed her eyes, only to be rid of the utter devastation before her. She had been raped and beaten, and diminished to a fatal red robe for the better part of her life—but she had also lived. These months in Verskyia had given her tangible jewels disguised in friendship. In passion. In laughter. It was enough for her.

She would die a free girl.

Thema had seen this death—her death. And initially she did not want to accept it, writhing in her sheets at night. But facing Drew Orvar's lifeless form was like looking at a sky that had gone impossibly dark at sunrise, when it was not supposed to.

She opened her eyes and found Reese clutching the corpse, eyes mad and crazed. He muttered apologies and words that didn't quite make sense to her.

She would see her mother again soon.

"The lake," Thema croaked, tentatively reaching out to Reese. "Bring him to the lake."

Thema stood up in a pile of blood, feeling her head completely clear. Focused and sharp. Fearless.

Reese looked to her, then to the lake ten feet away. His eyes sharpened. "He's not dead, Thema. He's asleep. He'll be up soon."

Or in other words, I won't bury him.

"Follow me," Thema said, her voice suddenly steady. "Please, Reese."

With one final look at the body in his arms, he heaved out a breath. Nodded dejectedly. Thema led him carefully towards the rim of the lake, where bodies had piled up. Some were injured, seconds away from dying.

Screams everywhere, battle cries following.

"Here," Thema said, kneeling beside the glowing stream. It sparkled and shimmered, whispering to her once more.

Reese gently set Drew's corpse down beside Thema. He looked to the lake with dead eyes. "What are we doing here?" His voice was one she didn't recognize. Perhaps apart of him was also lifeless.

Thema took in a deep breath, wanting to feel the air in her lungs. It was smoky and cold. Tasted of sins and desires. Was this what she'd remember of the corporeal world?

No, certainly not. She'd remember Verskyian daylight, how warm and gleaming it had been. She'd remember Reese's smile as he told her a million jokes, Erik's protection and Marisol's friendship. Drew's ability to inspire her.

"Thank you," were her words, on the edge of tears. She was happy. Just happy.

Reese blinked at her, questioning her.

"I had a wonderful time," she laughed, reaching out to squeeze his hand. "I hope we get to do it again one day."

Reese looked at her with a bare expression, showing her his crippling grief and utmost fear. "No," he said.

"Take care of each other," Thema said, looking around her. At the palace, the mighty trees. Her freedom. She didn't let Reese say anymore as she took Drew with her into the boundless, powerful lake.

Coldness drenched them.

She placed a hand on Drew's wound and found his memories. He stored images of the way Reese looked on a horse, or the feeling he experienced when he finished his most recent invention. She clung onto those memories, bleeding life into them.

Live, she pleaded. Live. The water, in all its beauty, answered her request, repaying her for her protection.

She felt the wound open at her own back, scorching and quick. She breathed in, choking on the honeyed water. Drowning and bleeding.

When Drew opened his eyes, she saw a familiar light there. Felt the pulse return to his wrist.

Drew Orvar would live a miraculous life, of love, victory, and passion. And she'd celebrate it with him from behind an intangible veil.