Page 160 of Immortal Sun

In my vision, Cyrus is wearing nothing but a gold loin cloth hanging down his full hips, skulls and flowers are intertwined around his neck, his half-life/half-death skull mask is in place, but I see his smile.

It’s only for me.

“Cleo.”

“Live. Die.”

A dark voice whispers, “Die.”

I ignore it. I keep walking. Even if it means I die, and I fall for the memory or maybe just the dream of walking toward my groom.

I imagine he thinks I’m beautiful, special even, that he’s holding back tears.

Moans and singing rise from the crowd around us. Arms are still raised toward him, and I refuse to look at anything but his back.

Once I’m right behind Cyrus, his hand leaves his spear, he very slowly looks over his shoulder, eyes blazing white. “Are you here as the last daughter of Chaos to sacrifice?”

“I am,” I say without hesitation. Do I really have a choice? If it isn’t him, I have nothing. My brother’s life hangs in the balance, but I so wish I could choose…him.

The singing around us intensifies as water from the sea splashes onto the tree and the rest of us. Thunder rolls like the earth is moaning, lightning suddenly strikes the tree, nearly half the leaves fall to the ground and die.

Cyrus finally turns fully toward me and tilts my chin with his gold covered glass taloned gloves, his nails sharp like he could cut me in half if he wanted to. He angles his head and whispers, “See? Nothing special.”

He’s trying to help me. I jerk away anyway. I see through his lies, through the burn of his tears.

I finally fully look into his eyes, eyes of fire themselves, flames lick down his arms.

I think I’m finally found. I step up on my tiptoes and kiss his lips softly. “Yes. Yes, I think I am.” I kiss him again. “Very special indeed.”

His eyes start to bleed. Silver blood stream down his cheeks, breath escapes from between his lips. In a hushed silence as everything disappears but us, his hand grips the side of my face, his talons gripping my dirty skin. “Why you?”

He sounds pained.

I answer. “It couldn’t have been anyone else, right?”

His hand drops at his side.

“It’s time,” Apep says from behind me. “Grab the rope.”

CHAPTER 39

CYRUS

“It is their lot who stand with the great that they enjoy high honors, and are more respected than others, but stand often in danger of their lives.”– The Saga of Olaf Haraldsson, ch.67

Igrip the blue and gold rope in my hand. It has droplets of blood all over it, from thousands of sacrifices, and they all glow in the sunlight. It represents, life, death, new beginnings.

I want to tell her she’s beautiful.

A goddess.

I’m not worthy and as the eclipse begins, the last before Chaos is destroyed. I hesitate.

I still taste her on my tongue, I feel her softness against my skin. Soon the light will leave her eyes and I will be left with an empty house. I’ll leave for Olympus and another trial will start. It all suddenly feels so meaningless.

She’s the last daughter of Chaos. The end to my trial—and the breaking of my heart.

My hands shake as I hand the rope to Inti and Enki. Slowly they escort her to the base of the tree and start to wrap the rope around her body.

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