Page 138 of Of Realms and Chaos

Asher

There was a common turn of phrase in Betovere: “Our Ending will come, and we will be ready.”

It was said to understand that we would all know when we were called home to Eternity, that our Ending would feel right. I sometimes wondered about that as a youngling.

What about those that died suddenly? What about murder? War?

My parents had not been called to anything. Their lives had been stolen by demons with a cruel desire to do nothing but kill. At least, that was what I had believed then.

Death had a way of sneaking up on you. She was a cruel mistress with little time for pleasantries. Her motives began and ended with the desire to take and take until there was nothing left. Sometimes, she would bribe and barter, but in the end, the bitch would take.

“Hey, little brother. I brought you a piece of cake. It is not chocolate, but that is Ash’s fault. She said she has never tried red velvet, so I was forced to show her. I hope that is okay.” Bellamy slowly lowered the cake to the ground, setting it atop the grave.

On the stone, in stunning writing, read, “Luca Braviarte. Beloved son. Taken too soon, but never forgotten.”

Lian bent down, setting a single Salvia Splenden at the base of the headstone. Noe followed suit, placing a kiss and mug to the top. Cyprus offered a folded piece of paper, which he forced into the dirt. I still felt the ghost of the items we had taken to Winona and Pino in my hands, but I had nothing other than my presence to offer now.

The others continued to place gifts and speak over the stone, until I was the only one left. I walked forward, not fully sure what I should say at that moment. But I knew that I needed to try despite the discomfort of feeling as though I did not belong here, as though I were intruding.

“Thank you, Luca, for being one of the first strangers to express belief in me. I want you to know that I will fight for you, for what you wanted the world to be. Even if it kills me, I will craft something better. A place worthy of your sacrifice.” Then, in a far quieter voice, I leaned forward and spoke, “May you return to Eternity.”

***

Bellamy was convinced that gifts were necessary. The others had each given me a pin to represent them when I first got back from wherever it was Padon nested, the psycho. They were treasured and loved, each in my hair and pairing perfectly with my dress. Henry had also gifted me with my own set of throwing daggers, the shades of blue and silver a beautiful sight. Each had a different carving that matched my pins.

The prince, though, had not offered me a pin or a weapon. Instead, he said that he was saving his gift. I had not understood or even known about birthdays then, but now, I realized tonight was what he had been so adamant about holding off for.

After we portaled back to the celebration, which had thankfully been far more dedicated to Star Festival than me, we all dispersed. When I went to find Farai and Wrath, Bellamy stopped me, pulling me in to him.

I have something for you.

Over the last few months, he had gotten exceptionally talented at speaking to me through his mind, the shouted words so loud they were impossible to ignore. I beamed up at him, for once genuinely excited about whatever it was he had planned. Never had I been averse to being given gifts. Rather, I did not enjoy forcing everyone to celebrate me when I knew it would only afford me further hostility. Being given something special by a loved one was different. Gifts were personal and considerate—intimate. Not just romantically, but in a way that left you feeling loved, even in platonic situations. Bellamy, of course, left my heart racing and my mind swimming because anything he gave me was far more. He had this ability to pour love into everything he did, and I found myself addicted to the taste and feel and sound of it. Any form of affection he offered, I would take, because I was constantly hungry for my next fix of him.

Taking my hand, his scorching skin soothing and euphoric, Bellamy led us through the crowd. We both offered smiles and hellos for all that stopped to speak to us. There were moments when I felt creatures staring at me, an avalanche of thoughts tearing through my head as the collective group’s mental voices grew louder. Despite my desire to practice, I wanted to devote this moment to Bellamy. He was so rarely put first, and he deserved every second of my undivided attention that I could spare. So I shut those mental gates, noting that they were starting to take on a sort of brass hue. The gold, which once shone brighter than the sun, had lost its gleam.

Maybe this was what healing felt like.

After facing the crowd, we eventually made it to a secluded area where the mountainside caved in on itself slightly, the darkness there combated only by the gleam of the moon and stars above—which I found myself drawn to more and more these days. Dropping my hand, Bellamy fumbled around, sounding far more flustered than he normally did. Pacing my breaths, I attempted to remain calm, my nerves a menacing threat that left me fearful I might act foolish whenever he presented whatever it was.

Nearly a full minute passed before he located the item, which was small enough to be hidden away in his clenched fist. His breath fanned across my face, smelling of the sweet icing from my cake and his signature smokey cinnamon scent. I wanted to joke, to say he was taking forever or that I was experiencing secondhand embarrassment watching him open and close his mouth, but I could not bring myself to do it. Yes, serious moments like this were notorious for discomfort, but I thought then that I could manage it—would gladly suffer the awkward tension in order to have this perfect memory with him.

“Let me preface this by saying that I know how much you have been through, Asher. I cannot fathom what it was like to live the life you did, and I do not know if you have even processed all of it, let alone healed from the never-ending list of traumas. Before Pino…passed,” he choked out the words, blue eyes glowing and lips turned up in a sad smile, “I told him never to put you in gold. I believed it was the most important aspect of keeping you healthy because I thought you needed separation from that if there would ever be a chance for you to recover. While I do not know if I was right then, I think now you do not need to avoid it. You need to reclaim it.”

Dipping his head closer to mine, he lifted his hand, opening his fingers to reveal to me what was within. There, in his palm, sat a thin gold chain. Rubies were placed intermittently around it, the teardrop shapes dangling slightly. The clasp was two circles—one littered with diamonds so bright that they sparkled silver beneath the moon, the other boasting black gems that reflected the light from the diamonds. There was nothing but beauty there, and still, I felt my head growing too light, my breaths picking up at the thought of letting that gold touch my skin.

As always, he picked up on that inner turmoil, reaching for my hand and holding the jewelry away from me. Sometime during the last few seconds, I had begun to shake, my body succumbing to the panic the gold had brought on. Had I not just convinced myself I moved past this? That my mental gates had tarnished because I was healing? Why did the suggestion of the smallest bit of gold possibly touching my skin send me spiraling down into that darkness I had so desperately fought back against?

“I believe in you, Ash. Even if you choose not to take this, I will still have faith in your greatness. Your worth is not contingent on how fast you heal, and your strength is not determined by how unfeeling you are. There is more to life than existing for the will of others. So, if you want, we can throw this off the side of the mountain or into the Sea of Akiva. It is your gift and your choice.” A nervous and reassuring smile formed on his face, his hand letting mine go to cup my cheek and jaw.

I nodded, leaning in to his hand and looking down at the gold. It was just metal. It was just a color. But, somehow, it was also a mountain of painful memories that had formed in my heart, golden and immoveable. If I wore that, would I be submitting once more to the will of Mia and Xavier—even if only somewhat?

“I—I am afraid.” No, I was terrified.

“I know it is scary, Ash. More than that, even. I know I will never understand what it is like to be placed in a golden prison and told to be thankful. But the gold was never your captor, the fae royals were. Do not let them steal more from you. Do not allow them the satisfaction of controlling you in this way.” His voice was drenched in determined sincerity, body rigid with tension as he once more held up the bracelet.

Maybe it was the logic of his words or my own desire to be more than a weak little princess. Perhaps it was simply him. Whatever the reason might have been, I found myself nodding, lifting up my arm for him. His answering smile could only be described as the sun itself. Bright and beautiful and warm—perfection incarnate.

But, instead of grabbing my wrist, he placed a bruising kiss to my mouth and then kneeled. I watched him slowly slide down my body, smirking up at me as he went.

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