Page 35 of The Ballad of a Bard
“ I s there any way to make someone a full Saint?” West slowly started, knowing the minute he said it, that Muse would stop whatever she was doing.
He was correct, because she did.
“ NORTH .” She almost screamed at him and he winced as she dropped the two books in her hands, narrowly missing her bare feet. “Please tell me it’s because of Crimson?”
Where her shoes were, he had no clue.
Or why she wasn’t wearing any.
Tazali was warm enough that the thin chiffon dress she wore would keep her the perfect temperature. Muse floated around the room like she rode a cotton cloud, her rose dress billowing in the whipping breezes from the summer. Her balcony doors were wide open, the sunset pink curtains blowing in the wind.
“Of course it is.” He said quietly. “It could never be anyone else.”
Guilt wasn’t a strong enough name for the hurricane of emotions that he was currently riding right now. He’d touched himself to the thought of her hands on him, him inside her, and then cleaned up like nothing had happened. He’d washed his hands and cleared his mind, drank two cups of tap water before dropping the dirty towel into the basket of clothes that needed to be washed. He’d changed his ruined undershorts, fixed his pants back into place and found Muse almost instantly afterwards because he wasn’t sure how much more of this he could take.
Muse’s massive smile dropped, which caused his heart to plummet as well. It tumbled off the cliff of hope, ripping along the cruel shoals of despair as it dropped into a freezing ocean of truth.
“I see.” He sighed, rubbing at his forehead furiously. “I thought so.”
Sleep didn’t find him as easily as it previously did, not with Crimson who curled over in her slumber. Not when the bed at the Compass felt cold and empty without her legs that mused the sheets, tried to tangle with his in the middle of the night. The air smelled wrong, off and he knew that he longed for her scent of rose and musk.
“I see the tiredness within your soul, North. You still shine beautifully bright, but not as bold as you once did.” Muse flowed over to him with silent steps, placing her hands flat on the counter. A couple bracelets jingled against her golden skin, two jewelled rings on her pointer finger that clanked against the marbled surface.
“You know I can’t.” He said hoarsely. “Not unless I can find a way to keep her eternal.”
His friend frowned and even that was a piece of art on her painted face. “I don’t like seeing you in pain. But that girl- she is wonderful, she is kind and she is everything that you have been searching for in the completion of our lives together.”
“I know.” He repeated .
“Even the fact that you can finally admit it is a step farther than before. I’m proud of you, dear friend. For coming to see what we’ve noticed from the start.” She touched his chin, clearly disliking the fact that he continued to shave away the thin layer of hair that appeared. “I wish I had more answers for you, because I want this as well. You are my friend, first and foremost so I will not push on the topic since I can see that you’ve already pushed yourself on it considerably.”
“Far more than you think I have.” West huffed.
Her eyes softened. “I don’t want to lose you.”
Confusion bolted through him as his eyebrows curved towards the middle of his forehead. “Why in the Saints sake would you lose me?”
The Empress looked as though she might not tell him. But then her mouth wobbled and she said, “Because of this. You can’t make someone a full Saint, North. But you could give up some of yours.”
His head snapped up. “Is that even possible?”
Never had he ever heard anything like it before.
But it gave him hope.
A dangerous, foolish thing.
Her teeth showed, perfect in every way, much like her. “Of course it’s possible. Some of those tomes contain fascinating information about us immortals, that I, an immortal, didn’t even know about.”
He tried to keep his pace calm, his heart steady as he asked, “How is that even possible?”
Muse pushed off the counter and began to rifle through her dusty books. One’s he recognized from the library as she set them aside. “It would seem that our isolated Heartache tried to experiment and wrote his findings down. ”
Of course it was him.
Out of all the Saints, only Heartache would dare to question and test the boundaries, the limitations, the very structure of being a Saint.
“Where can I find his writings?” West questioned her, adjusting the top button on his captain’s coat. He’d shoved his arms into it before quickly exiting to find Muse, before he could find some way to make it work with Crimson that wouldn’t inevitably lead to his demise.
There wasn’t a choice there.
At least not yet.
Her smile faltered, and she didn’t answer for a moment. But then her mouth opened and she sighed. “With him, I’m afraid. It was one of the things he took with him before he left. He made one stop, to grab his things before taking off. I’m afraid you won’t find them elsewhere.”
“Of course they’re with him. Add it to the list of reasons to find him, I guess.” West contemplated how he could ask such a thing from the mysterious Saint. How he could even go about explaining to Heartache that he wanted to be with his daughter. “It’s ever growing.”
Which meant that they would set sail to find him before the end of the week.