Page 65 of The Ballad of a Bard
W hen they returned to the Palace, Crimson wasn’t surprised to find Cobalt in West’s rooms. During the long trek back through each of the gates, in which the Saint held her hand for most of it, he explained what had happened during her imprisonment. She’d bitten her lip approximately three times in anxiousness at Cobalt’s two episodes, sighed in relief as he explained how he’d handled them and that he was okay. But she was eternally grateful to him for everything he did.
In exchange, she told him everything that happened in the cells. Her meeting with Connor, which he stated that he wished he’d been there for, and she agreed. There was a burst of desire to see her father, one that she’d listen to after she brought the heart to her brother.
West listened as she nervously told him about Altivar’s true motives and how he tried to control her. How he tried to get her to admit that she’d been the one to kill Muse, and then how he’d admitted it right before her first fight. His power flared, his footsteps burned into the stones but he didn’t fling any of his anger at her for it.
Instead he simply told her that he wouldn’t have believed it, no matter how hard Altivar might have made her try.
It only made her love him more.
If that was even possible.
When they reached the castle, West found Thalias in the training yard and asked him to retrieve Connor from the cells. The man nodded and informed them that Altivar had arrived only twenty minutes prior on horseback. Something that they’d handle after Cobalt.
Crimson’s heart was the thrum of a harp, the twang of a violin string as she approached the apartment doors, West by her side.
“Are you alright?” He asked, noting the concern on her face as her thumb absent-mindeldy fiddled with the glass jar.
“I’ve been wanting to heal him for eight years” She sighed, sneaking a peek down at the glittering black dust that would change everything. There was no power vibrating from it, nothing to signify that it was anything other than a jar of sparkling dirt, basically. And yet within it, was the power to change her entire world.
“It feels a little…”
“Unreal?” He filled in her blank.
Crimson giggled softly. “I’m in love with a Saint, I’ve become a full Saint, my father reappeared and I somehow found it in myself to forgive him, to want him back. And yet the biggest surprise of it all, the one that feels unreal when it all should, is the fact that my brother will finally get to live as a normal boy.”
“Then let’s make sure that he has that opportunity.” West turned the handles down and pushed in.
She didn’t believe in luck, in prayers or coincidences. Everything was meant to be, meant to happen a certain way. Everyone had their own path to follow that grew from their own choices. And yet, as she walked in and found her brother asleep in the bed, she contemplated the sliver of an idea to allow some mystical force in. After all, she was one now.
Crimson propped herself on the left side, gently stroking the inky hair that fell into his face. “Wake up Blue.”
His long lashes fluttered, his cheeks moving and he let out a stretched yawn as his back uncurled from the cat-like position he was often fond of falling asleep in.
“You’re back.” His voice was laced with slumber and she smiled at it. “Did you beat their butts?”
West snorted and came to sit next to her, behind her. “Every single one of them.”
Cobalt lifted his chin to take them both in, shuffling out from under the sheets and sitting against the headboard. “Did you bring me any sweets?” He glanced behind them, as if there would be a mountain of ginger candies for him to consume.
“No, but I did bring you something.” She held out the vial and watched him carefully to see how he’d react. “Something that might cure you, Blue.”
He instantly perked up. “Really?”
“Really.” She nodded and pulled the topper out, setting it on the nightstand. “It’s going to taste horrible and it’s going to hurt a little, but it has the chance to make sure that you never fall ill like this again. There’s one thing about this though that you need to know before you take it.”
Because even if he was only eight, he deserved to know what it was. What it would do to him. She’d had the option to turn it down, and he had every right to do the same. It might kill her if he refused to take it, but then she’d find Altivar and make him pay for what he’d done .
“What?” He warily eyed it as if it might transform into a snake and bite him.
“If you eat this, then you’ll become a half Saint regardless of if the sickness will fade. You’ll live longer and you might find yourself with some magic, like West and I.” Crimson let him into the details, offering the vial to him.
Cobalt looked as though he might not take it.
But then he moved faster than a fly and snatched it up, tossing it down his throat. She started forward as he tapped the bottom of it, trying to reach every little speckle. Then his cheeks began to bulge, his skin turning red as the powder laced his mouth. She knew that he’d be struggling to swallow it all, to get past the chalky sensation that she’d hated.
West was already in the bathroom, the tap on as he filled a glass. She hadn’t even felt him get up but he strolled back into the room and silently handed Cobalt the glass of tepid water. He took it without opening his mouth, his chest constricting as the heart began to heal everything inside of him. Then he brought the glass to his mouth and started to take small sips. His hand trembled, his fingers clenching and unclenching as he drank half before the water spilled and he fell back into the pillows at the headboard.
The cup tumbled to the floor and rolled.
“Blue!” Crimson jolted, climbing onto the bed and cradling him in her arms. His eyes rolled back into his head as he gasped for air, spasming like crazy.
She hadn’t realised how terrifying it looked from this end. Her father must have been beside himself when he witnessed her transformation.
Cobalt whined as he started to cry. “Red, it hurts.” He moaned and his tiny nose began to run. “Make it stop. ”
She held her own tears back, rocking him as she let the heart take over. It wouldn’t be long now, just a few more minutes. There was nothing she could do to help him, to make him feel better except let it work. And yet she hated it all, wishing she could take his place and experience all of the pain so that he could reap the rewards.
“I know,” Crimson whispered down to him, trying to be as comforting as possible without lying. “You’re being so brave. Just a little bit more, alright?”
“No,” He whimpered, shaking his head from side to side. “No more.”
“Just a bit more.” She repeated, stroking his forehead as his tremors subsided. “Then you’ll never hurt again.”
A few people entered the chamber and she paid them no heed as she held her brother, watching every shift and change. West let her be, quietly explaining the situation to whoever walked in. But as Cobalt stopped jerking, his skin began to light. Not in the same way that West’s did with the eternal stardust he controlled, but in a soft hue that allowed her to breathe again. He was warm to the touch, but not feverish and there was nothing clammy about him.
Connor came around to the side and studied him. “He’s almost there.” He assured her and she sent a grateful smile in his direction.
Cobalt exhaled deeply and everything stopped.
His heart became a potent thing, hardening to the point where it would become nearly impossible to break. His hair shifted towards a midnight black, streaks of blue appearing every so often. And when he opened his eyes to see them all staring down at him, it was all the proof she needed that the heart had worked. They had always been pretty blue eyes, but now they glowed with a fraction of Saint power, looking like cut gems that could be found in a priceless chest.
Cobalt slowly pushed out of his sister’s arms, taking in the company that settled in the room for him and only him. Immediately, he brightened when he saw them all.
Thalias and Damien remained at the door, one crossed his arms whilst the other propped a boot against the wall. Connor was by his side, Crimson still against the headboard. West stood off to the left of the bed, watching them all in the predatory way that he’d learned in order to become Captain of the Watch.
Cobalt’s fingers spread over his chest, rubbing. “It- it doesn’t hurt anymore.” He said and found her gaze. “There’s nothing. Normally, there’s a bad tickle there, or a sharp poke, but it’s gone.”
“It might return, Cobalt.” Connor issued a cautious warning, “There’s a chance that it didn’t wipe away the sickness for good.”
“I’ll take the chances because it’s better than nothing.” She inhaled deeply and lowered a lingering kiss to his damp forehead. “Thank the Saints.”