Page 188
Story: What Blooms from Death
Nova
A familiar voicewas whispering in my ear.
Are you coming or not?
The room was dark. It smelled of ashes, though I didn’t remember lighting a fire. I felt pressure against my side—a hand. Its grip was strong, almost crushing.
Come along, Nova. Wake up. It’s time to go.
Lorien’s voice, I realized. The words settled over me like cold stones, trying to weigh me down. Trying to drag me to him.
“I’m not going anywhere with you,” I heard myself mumble.
The hand against my side gripped even more tightly, fingers digging in, each added ounce of pressure making the panic in my chest coil a little tighter, until I could barely breathe because of the pressure on my lungs.
Are you afraid to face me?
I rolled from his grip and stumbled to the nearby chair, snatching up the knife that was piled with the rest of my clothing.
I wasn’t afraid.
Iwouldn’tbe afraid.
“...Nova?”
I spun to face the dark figure rising from the bed, my knife raised.
You should be afraid,said the voice.
“I’m not afraid,” I hissed back.
With a furious cry, I swung.
The dark figure ducked my attack, darting from the bed and sliding gracefully behind me. I spun after him, swinging even harder this time—but he caught my wrist, halting the blade inches from his neck.
“Nova, what the hell are you doing?”
I set my stance and kept shoving, my stare locked on the life-giving veins of his neck.
“It’s me!Aleks!”
My hand shook violently as I tried to push the knife forward.
His fingers tightened around my wrist, nails pinching in. The bite of pain caught my attention. I blinked, and the fog of confusion and panic began to lift—just enough for the face before me to take on its true shape, transforming from the shadowy visage of a nightmare figure into something clearer. Something safer.
“YourAleks,” he whispered. His eyes were wide, pleading, and…golden. A pure, warm gold. Like a sun-drenched wheat field. Not like the reddish-brown blood of Lorien’s eyes.
“…Mine,” I breathed, slowly lowering my arm.
“Yours,” he repeated, leaning his forehead against mine and gripping the sides of my face. “If there was any doubt left in your mind about that…banish it.”
A tremor overcame me as I realized what I’d almost done. I dropped the knife and buried my face in Aleksander’s chest, my stomach churning with a sickness that made my mouth water and my body break out in a cold sweat.
It felt like a long time passed before I managed to calm my racing heart enough to say, “I heard his voice. He was…talking to me.”
Aleks drew back, looking confused for an instant before understanding dawned in his eyes, followed by fury. “What did he say?”
I shook my head; I barely remembered the actual words. Only the feel of them creeping over my skin, trying to burrow themselves into my mind. My heart. “I thought he was here. I thought he was you. Or me. Or…”
A familiar voicewas whispering in my ear.
Are you coming or not?
The room was dark. It smelled of ashes, though I didn’t remember lighting a fire. I felt pressure against my side—a hand. Its grip was strong, almost crushing.
Come along, Nova. Wake up. It’s time to go.
Lorien’s voice, I realized. The words settled over me like cold stones, trying to weigh me down. Trying to drag me to him.
“I’m not going anywhere with you,” I heard myself mumble.
The hand against my side gripped even more tightly, fingers digging in, each added ounce of pressure making the panic in my chest coil a little tighter, until I could barely breathe because of the pressure on my lungs.
Are you afraid to face me?
I rolled from his grip and stumbled to the nearby chair, snatching up the knife that was piled with the rest of my clothing.
I wasn’t afraid.
Iwouldn’tbe afraid.
“...Nova?”
I spun to face the dark figure rising from the bed, my knife raised.
You should be afraid,said the voice.
“I’m not afraid,” I hissed back.
With a furious cry, I swung.
The dark figure ducked my attack, darting from the bed and sliding gracefully behind me. I spun after him, swinging even harder this time—but he caught my wrist, halting the blade inches from his neck.
“Nova, what the hell are you doing?”
I set my stance and kept shoving, my stare locked on the life-giving veins of his neck.
“It’s me!Aleks!”
My hand shook violently as I tried to push the knife forward.
His fingers tightened around my wrist, nails pinching in. The bite of pain caught my attention. I blinked, and the fog of confusion and panic began to lift—just enough for the face before me to take on its true shape, transforming from the shadowy visage of a nightmare figure into something clearer. Something safer.
“YourAleks,” he whispered. His eyes were wide, pleading, and…golden. A pure, warm gold. Like a sun-drenched wheat field. Not like the reddish-brown blood of Lorien’s eyes.
“…Mine,” I breathed, slowly lowering my arm.
“Yours,” he repeated, leaning his forehead against mine and gripping the sides of my face. “If there was any doubt left in your mind about that…banish it.”
A tremor overcame me as I realized what I’d almost done. I dropped the knife and buried my face in Aleksander’s chest, my stomach churning with a sickness that made my mouth water and my body break out in a cold sweat.
It felt like a long time passed before I managed to calm my racing heart enough to say, “I heard his voice. He was…talking to me.”
Aleks drew back, looking confused for an instant before understanding dawned in his eyes, followed by fury. “What did he say?”
I shook my head; I barely remembered the actual words. Only the feel of them creeping over my skin, trying to burrow themselves into my mind. My heart. “I thought he was here. I thought he was you. Or me. Or…”
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