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sixty-three

Carnaxa

E reon is sprawled out on the floor, still, his heart has stopped and his face is pale. But I can feel inside of me, his ripple still swirls. His soul is here with me. I refuse to let it ever leave. If I die now, then he’ll follow me into the next.

Find Thylas. Ereon’s last words to me.

I hold Ereon’s cold hand inside mine and look inside the hearth at the flames calling to me. The flames that are inside of Thylas, the ones that molded him into the man he now is. The man I love. Will this be our end? Will I never see him again? I gaze at the flames that flicker back and forth and I think of how he was everything to me for so many years. My first crush, my friend, my guard ... my love. Inside of me, that hole in my chest cries out, begging to be filled by his love. The love we once had and the love we will have again. I look inside at the ripple of gold I hold so dear, and dig deeper into myself. Searching for another. A gift like this can’t just be taken away, I refuse to accept such a fate. I dig into the dark hole inside of me. The one created when the neni was completed. I hold Ereon’s golden light and search the darkness within. I feel something slithering, not like the smooth ripple of the gold I hold in my figurative hands. I grab on to it, pulling it from the darkness. The blackened ripple tries to bury back into the darkness of my chest but I catch a single silver tip and hold it tight.

Looking towards the flames I whisper, “Thylas.”

And slowly, the flames dance, clutching to the magic as I think of Thylas. A small ember of his twin drop, fueling the power we share.

Inside the flames I suddenly see him. He fights against Atlas, their flames at war in a match of brute strength. They don’t wield weapons, but the sweat on Thylas’ brow shows that he’s losing strength. His eyes appear darker than before, his stance more dangerous than I’ve ever witnessed. He has a deadly display of flames around him, and his jaw is clenched. I stand up and run to the image, screaming into the fire. A moment later, Thylas cast his eyes toward me and his grimace gives way to a sad smile.

“Another trick?” he asks as he turns to Atlas .

Atlas laughs, casting a barrier around him. “That’s no trick from me.”

“ Noh? ?” Thylas walks toward the flame I assume is from a torch, letting his own die down. “How?” He clutches his chest, a feeling of the twin drop between us. I watch as the silver tries to grow but it is masked by the darkness. It’s still there — not gone — not entirely.

“There is no time. I had to do this, I have to do this ... I found a way to save our people.” I stumble over my words, trying to say what I need him to know, not knowing how long this connection will last.

The screams on the castle grounds turn to prayers as my people accept their fate and the waters consume them. I glance to Ereon and back to Thylas. I can save them both. My mother’s waters will save her people, and he is one of them. It has to be this way. And because of Thylas, I can travel through the flames.

“Stand back!” I scream. He needs me. I can use his power to transport me like we used Ereon’s to get here. Surely, it could work again. “I’ll come to you!”

Thylas looks at me as Atlas releases his flames once more. “Yes ... let her come, son. I’d love to see her again.” Atlas’ sinister laugh filters through the crackling flames, his hand releasing a fireball.

Thylas looks at me and shakes his head, barely dodging another attack from Atlas. Anara moves into view, before releasing her own flames at Atlas.

“Speak to her …” Anara screams. “Say what you need to because you may not get another chance.” Her fury is unrelenting, as she continues to assault Atlas.

Thylas walks closer to me in the image. “I love you, baby girl. I’ve always loved you.” He reaches out as if he could touch my face and I reach to him. A moment between the flames, our fingers touch and the small silver ripple inside brightens. Flames lick up my arm, burning and heating me as they do. But it’s the surrounding fires that cause me to gasp. They rise and seem to tower over him. He smiles down at something he sees, and I look at my arms. On my arm mimics the same tattoos of his own, except in red, similar to the brand I bear on my thigh. His flames don’t burn me as the heat spreads. “This is my story. Now, you can read it when you need to. I’ve accepted my fate and I have to live with it. Save your people, Naxa.” He looks at me and then he kicks outward — the image faltering and leaving just the normal orange flames within the hearth.