Page 55 of The Ballad of a Bard
S he delicately picked up the vial, eyeing the contents. As she twisted it back and forth, they sparkled like the finest gem she’d ever seen. Saints hearts were made from glass, not a beating muscle that could pump blood and circulation through their bodies. But she’d heard West’s, called it her home and loved it wholly.
“This would grant me full immortality?” Crimson questioned as she pulled the cork free, setting it aside on her lap instead of on the filthy earth.
If Altivar was going to make her fight against War, then there was no chance of her making it out alive. Not as a lesser Saint, which was exactly his reasoning for doing so. Her altering powers wouldn’t work against him, it was well-known. To show the people from all the gates that Red Lyric was nothing but a show name, a fighter that could be beaten, killed. But with this- with the chance to be a full Saint and to enhance her powers. There was the chance to take him down, to hold her own and fight back with everything she had inside of her. There was the chance of making it out alive, of being free and living with West.
Of taking that happy ending for herself and letting herself love him without the fear of rejection.
Something she desperately wanted.
Connor watched her from his cell as she lifted the vial, sniffing at the scarlet contents. No smell accompanied it, nothing but chilled air which she was thankful for. If a putrid scent wafted from the vial, she wasn’t so sure that she’d be able to down it.
There was a sickening tightness at the thought of consuming a heart, but at least it didn’t look like one. Instead, it reminded her of nutmeg with the powder-like consistency. If she reached into her own chest and pulled out her heart, would it look similar? Would it crumple to glass powder as soon as she touched it, easily mixing with tea if she stirred it in?
There was no water to combine it with, nothing to douse the dust at all. She swallowed, preparing herself as she brought it to the verge of her lips and paused, allowing that momentary lapse of hesitation as she rethought it all over.
If she did this, there was no going back.
If she didn’t, she would die.
Crimson made up her mind before anything else could convince her otherwise and poured the entire bottle into her mouth.
It was tasteless, thankfully and she forced herself not to think about what she’d just dumped down her throat as she tried to make it go down. It was almost chalky in texture but she refused to cough any of it up. Who knew what would happen if she didn’t swallow the entirety?
Connor rose on his knees, eyes wide as she struggled to eat it. Her throat bulged as she clapped a hand over her mouth, doubling over as a tingling began. It spread through her entire being, connecting each cell, wrapping around each vein, expanding into each bone and drop of blood like a ribbon of immortality. Her body began to burn, not in an unpleasant way but in an uncomfortable way as she successfully managed to lick the residue off her lips.
As she ate Muse’s heart.
She gasped out for air as it began to delve deeper, finding the small bit of immortality that already belonged to her and cradling it like a newborn babe. It surrounded every inch of power, examined it and deemed it not enough as it added small beads of light and love and power to it. She felt her magic as it became a heavy weight, flowing freer. There was a burst of white that exploded inside of her, transforming into flashbangs of red that she saw as stars exploded in her vision. Her sight blurred and she toppled over as her body convulsed.
“Crimson?” Her father called out but she could barely hear him. Her fingers twitched, her spine locked and her shoulder bent backwards.
Crimson was vaguely aware of the cry that left her mouth as everything turned to ash and bone and life. As those little bits of Muse’s heart fused with her own, coating her insides with the newfound grace and eternal youth. She panted through the pain, the tremors that broke out along her skin as the hairs on the back of her neck stood up.
And as it all calmed down like a raging storm on the brink of destruction, only to dissolve and fade away into nothing before true chaos struck, she found herself staring at her hands. They were still pale, yes, but she swore there was a faint sparkle to her skin like pure moonlight.
Because Dream had camouflaged the other Saints to look normal, to fit in with the other mortals. But she’d just become a full-blooded one, without any sort of glamour to fall into place over her. Crimson had never been a vain sort of person before, but she longed for a mirror now. To see what the transformation had done to her, to find the changes.
“Your eyes…” Her father exclaimed with wonder. “There’s flame in them.”
“I feel… stronger.” She turned to him, allowing him to see the full extent of the magic that roiled through her, still rounding her edges into sharper, more dangerous things.
“It’s going to take some time to get used to it, I imagine. I’ve never seen anyone become a full Saint before- after creating the others. And even then, it was an entirely different process.”
Now, there were six of them again.
The Imp, known for their madness and sanity all wrapped in one.
The Dreamer, the tether between living and dead, between reality and imagination.
The Warrior, for the blood spilt by men and their strength to fight for what they believed in.
The Heartache, to represent the matters of the heart and everything that came with it, good or bad.
The Northern Star, with his trustworthy manner that always led men to find their true north, and the night that followed with the brightest of lights.
And now Heartstrings, able to weave and control matters of the mind and hearts, whispering commands without so much as batting an eyelash in their direction.
Crimson felt alive.
“Thank you,” She whispered to the male by her side. “For this extreme gift.”
She wasn’t sure if it was forgiveness that blossomed inside of her chest, or if it was something even close. But over the years, she’d needed to know why he’d left and he’d given her an answer. One that made sense, one that she understood beyond anything else considering that she too would do anything for Cobalt’s sake. She’d given up her life to mother him, raise him, love him. She’d given up her innocence to fight and kill and win in order to afford a home and food and medicine for him. She’d even given herself up to Altivar for his life.
Connor had done the same.
Crimson turned her hands over, admiring the new thrall of power that vibrated down to her very core.
“I am so sorry for the trauma of leaving you behind.” Connor began with a sorrowful look on his face. “I never wanted to hurt you, my darling daughter. I hope you know that it broke a fundamental piece of me to leave you behind, but I knew that I could not lose either of you.”
She let his words flow over her.
“I know this won’t heal the damage I’ve created these last eight years, but let it be a start.”
“I missed you,” Crimson admitted to him, finding his gaze with her own. “Every day. I thought the weapons you left behind were your artefact, and every night for a full year, I begged you to come back with them in my clutches.”
He let out a shuddering breath. “I left that necklace with you, because you were the only one I trusted with something that powerful.”
She’d known it all along.
“Please don’t leave again.” She said quietly. “You’ve found Altivar and I will do whatever it takes to help you destroy the curse on Cobalt, but please don’t leave us alone again when it’s all said and done. ”
There was that shred of vulnerability she showed him, allowing him to understand that she was willing to let the past fall away like a grain of sand on the wind, so long as he didn’t repeat his previous mistakes. There was still so much agony within her heart and head that she needed to sort out, but she could start here. She could allow herself the proper time to heal as long as he was there for it all.
It had just been her and Cobalt for so long that a part of her wondered if she’d even remember how to be a family again. If she could relax in her role of guardian and allow herself to fall back into the role of sister and sibling only, of a daughter once more.
Crimson wanted the chance to try.
“I can’t.” Connor smiled sadly as he reached out through the bars for her hand. “I’ve gone and fallen in love with that boy that you’ve done such a good job of taking care of. The child that I never got to know before. But he is strong and beautiful and no matter whose blood runs through his veins, he is my son. ”
Crimson contemplated it before placing her fingers through his. He squeezed once.
“I’m here now, and I will not leave you again, Crimson. I swear that to you.”
She trembled as she dragged herself closer to the metal bars that separated them. “Thank you.”
“My beautiful daughter,” He pulled her as close as he could. She let him embrace her, hesitantly wrapping her own arms back around him in return. “Never again.”