XVIII | Spilling Truths
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As the sun sets and the temperature steadily drops, we set up camp in a shallow cave within the rocks. Out of the wind and the ice, I manage to take a breath that doesn't make my lungs ache. We're quick to get a fire started amongst the stones already filled with ash, cut logs dried in the corner.
I watch Rosabel work from the corner of my eye, her movements sure as she gathers a bundle of blankets and bedrolls. She's clearly spent a lot of time perfecting her journey to the witches even though she still has nothing to show for her efforts. Her tenacity seems to have no limits.
She puts a kettle on to boil, I set dried meat and bread on two plates and offer her one, then we eat in silence beside the crackling fire, feeling our bodies thaw and muscles relax.
I glance at her, watching the way the fire sparks in her violet eyes, illuminating the lighter flecks within them.
I should tell her. I need to tell her. She deserves to know about Ari. He left that drawing in my bag for a reason. Maybe it was to find her, or maybe it was to remind me that his people are still out here, that they still need help. Ari would want her to know what happened to him.
Telling her he's dead and telling her it's my fault are two very different things though.
Setting my plate to the side as my throat begins to constrict, I turn to her. "Rosabel, I—"
"Hold on," she says and leans forward to take the kettle away from the flames.
My lips part and my heart seems to skip a beat in my chest as I watch her curl her bare fingers around the kettle like it isn't steaming with heat. She doesn't react, just pours the two cups of tea and sets the kettle aside.
I take the cup she offers me without even registering what she's doing because I can't tear my gaze away from her hand where it should be blistering.
"What were you saying?"
I blink at her as I try to retrieve my thoughts. What was I going to say? Why isn't she burned? "Ari is dead," I whisper.
Her cup pauses midway to her lips and now she stares at me. "Pardon?"
I swallow and look down at the leaves in the water, an almost rosy aroma coming from them.
"Azura, what did you say?"
I take a sip of the tea and wince at the scolding heat of it. I lick my lips and meet her gaze again. "Ari is dead."
Rosabel turns her face towards the fire, a mask of neutrality smothering her features. "How did you know Ari?"
I tilt my head, not expecting such a lack of emotion from her. "We were... in a school together."
"Where?"
"In Sharlikire."
Rosabel turns to face me, those violet eyes now filled with lurking shadows. "I know he's dead. I want to know how you know."
I can't seem to find the words to answer, my mouth suddenly dry.
"You were with him, weren't you? You saw him die."
Blinking, wetness trickles down my cheeks. I blink again and I see it; crimson pooling on the marble, his head, blond hair drenched in his own blood, the spiked collar clattering to the ground, droplets of red falling like rain.
You killed him.
I lurch to my feet, the tea tumbling from my hands as I stagger to the mouth of the cave and empty my guts onto the snow outside. I lean against the stone as I wretch, the vision of him still burned into the backs of my eyelids. A brand I have to carry for the choice I made.
I sink to my knees and press the back of my hand to my mouth, willing my weaknesses to stay buried.
A touch to my shoulder draws my gaze up as Rosabel hands me a flask. Her features have softened, the hard press of her mouth giving way to puckered lips and a rounder jaw. She kneels beside me as I take the flask and wash the taste of sick from my mouth.
"When I was younger, I carved sygils into Ari and I." She pulls up the sleeve of her shirt to show the sygil, now nothing more than a curving scar settling over blue veins stark against her creamy skin. "I felt the moment he died. Being a leader, being a princess, being the hope to my people—" she draws in a shaky breath, staring down at that sygil, "—it was always bearable knowing that he was still out there. That one day he would return to our people as I had."
"I'm so sorry," I manage around the lump in my throat.
"How..." She blinks rapidly, unshed tears shining in her eyes. "How did he die?"
I shake my head and clasp her hand in mine. "Don't ask me that. Please don't ask me that."
She stares at me for a long moment, twisting her hand to clasp mine. "He told you who he was?"
I nod. "He never stopped fighting for his people. He never gave up on the shape-shifters, even when I told him to."
A trembling smile graces her lips. "He was always stubborn, even when we were kids."
Lowering my gaze to the snow melting against my knees, I let those words settle inside me. He was always stubborn. He refused to let go of his obsession with Palmira and now he's gone. I didn't do enough to save him from her.
It should have been my head to hit that marble, not his.
"I think we need to get some sleep," I murmur, having no other words for her. I can't comfort her in her grief just as she can't comfort me. I deserve these shards of glass nestling in my chest.
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Something tickles my cheek, stirring the short strands of hair that frame my face. I blink my eyes open, greeted by dense darkness, the fire having long since faded. The breath comes again, the warmth of it contrasting the sharp cold in the cave.
Eyes adjusting to the dark, I see the person who lays beside me within reaching distance. Pale curls of hair fall over his forehead, shadowing his brown eyes that seem too golden in the dimness of the cave.
"Ari," I whisper, heart jumping into my throat.
He smiles, pale pink lips shifting to sink a dimple into his cheek. Ari doesn't say anything, but I don't need him to. He's here, he's by my side.
How long have I been stumbling around without him?
Reaching out, I go to touch his neck where that collar had dug into his skin, the iron spikes causing blood to soak his shirt. Before I can touch the smooth expanse of his throat, my fingers nudge against something between us. I frown and push against it, seeing no visible barrier, but something blocks me from him.
"Ari," I say again, willing him to reach across the distance between us. His hand darts out and then he grabs my wrist, relief barreling through me to feel his cool skin on mine.
The relief becomes a cold dread as those fingers tighten, bruising as they bite into the bones in my wrist.
I lift my gaze and find my brother laying next to me, a sneer curling his dry lips.
"Little flame," he growls. He lunges forward and I jolt back, a scream lodging in my throat.
Rolling across the ground and coming up into a kneel, I prepare myself to face my brother's wrath. But as my wild eyes scour the darkness, seeing only my tossed bedroll, I don't find him.
Both Ari and my brother are gone and I'm left with this emptiness once again filling my chest.
Letting out a shuddering breath as I find Rosabel still asleep in her bedroll, I press my gloved knuckles to my lips to keep the whimper trapped against my tongue. It begs to be let out, but I've wept too much already.
I stand, knees trembling, but I manage to walk out of the cave and into the snow without crumbling. I cling to that small victory.
Out in the snow, I draw the freezing air into my lungs. It hurts to swallow it, but I relish the ice that seems to coat the open wounds festering within me, numbing them, even if only for a moment.
The moon brightens the snow around me, making the small path towards the steep drop of the cliff an easy one to traverse. I stand close to the edge, hands stuffed into the pockets of my trousers, and try to forget my dream and the ghosts that press against my back.
Reaching into my sweater, I unclasp the necklace from within. I take it out, the Blaze rock shining brightly in the low light beneath the moon. It glows like a fragment of Ari's soul is trapped within, and perhaps there is. The last piece of him I have, stuck with me, the one who brought him to his death.
I killed him. I didn't wield the blade, but I may as well have. And the sad thing is that even if Palmira hadn't lied about Suri's death, I would have still gone into the Empire. I would have done what she'd ordered, I would have left Ari behind and discovered things I can't come back from. If only to find the answers about what I am.
I don't know whether it makes me worse of a person to understand that my path was always going to lead me here. That my answers walk hand in hand with Ari's death because I was the fool who let him into my heart. I'm a monster for many things, and maybe this is one of them.
Little flame.
The voice is gravelly and harsh in my ears and forces me to lift my head, to escape my thoughts and feel the biting cold again. Even before I look, I know my brother is here.
Wind sends flurries of snow reeling through the air, a curtain of white drifting between me and the figure that walks towards me.
He's as I remember by that icy river. Flecks of white catch in the pale red of his hair, so unlike the vibrant flame of Rosabel's locks. His skin is colourless, drawn tight over sharp cheekbones that look like they can cut.
"Alastor," I breathe, the word fogging the air.
"Throw it away, little flame," he says, deep blue eyes on the stone in my palm.
"No," I tell him without hesitation.
His thin lip curl and I know it was the wrong answer. In a few quick strides my brother is by my side, his fingers yanking at my hair and forcing my eyes to meet his.
"Let go of your weaknesses."
Tears blur my vision as I glare at him, his grip tightening until the sting in my scalp makes me wince. "I can't."
"And that's why he's dead," he snarls, bringing his face closer to mine, his breath strangely cold on my face. "Because you couldn't let go."
I should've. I know I should've let him go as I should've with Suri and Lilja and Dax. Death and pain follows me, like a curse I can never shake.
"You're stronger without them. They're safer without you. Let him go."
Thrusting out my hand, the icy wind nips at the skin on my wrist as I dangle the necklace over the cliff, my brother's face still too close to mine, those ocean blue eyes trying to drown me.
I'm alive because I listened to him. I'll stay alive if I continue listening to him.
"Azura?"
Snapping my head to the side at the voice, I wrench my brother's fingers from my hair and press the necklace close to my chest. Rosabel trudges through the snow, her arms wrapped around her and a deep line between her brows.
"What are you doing out here?"
When I look to the space my brother had occupied, I realise he's gone. No footsteps mar the snow, the pain in my scalp is gone, but I still feel him, a sharp thorn in my mind that I'll never pry loose.
"I was..." I begin, gaze dropping to the stone resting in the palm of my glove.
I need to let him go. I need to let them all go. But... how can I? How can I just throw away the only piece of him I have left, the only piece of his mother that he had left?
I turn to Rosabel who watches me, reading me as though I'm a puzzle she can put together and understand.
There's no putting my pieces back together.
"Ari gave me this." I grab her hand and drop the necklace into her palm, her eyes widening as she stares at it. "He said it was his mother's. He would have wanted you to have it."
"But he gave it to you."
"Only because he never had a chance to give it to you."
"Azura—" she starts but I shake my head and step away from her, distancing myself from that piece, terrified I'll snatch it back.
"It belongs with you. After everything... it belongs with you." I step around her and go back into the cave, hastily wiping my eyes.
There's still so much to tell her about what happened but... the responsibility of Ari's death is on my shoulders. I'm the one that will kill Palmira for what she did. I won't put that burden on Rosabel, she has enough weight to carry as it is.
And I only hurt those around me anyway.
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