Eternal: Epilogue

Epilogue: Beginning Eternity

Years ago, Valetta had asked me how I imagined my dream life. When I had closed my eyes, I saw a life I wanted, but didn’t think I could ever have. And yet, here I am, with Drei, living in a two story beach house on a lake in a forest. Almost exactly as I had described.

Drei’s sisters had been buried in that single grave I had found. He paid to have them exhumed and cremated, bringing their ashes back with us. The urns had a room they shared with other memories, fond and painful. Pictures, news clippings, items that held special meaning—including the rocking chair Drei had found all those years ago, a maternal family heirloom of mine.

Another special place Drei and I had set up, though I had been reluctant at first, was a garden. It wasn’t like his original, left behind and untended at the original safe camp, but it was a close second. We didn’t have to build a greenhouse, as there was an atrium that essentially functioned as one. Together, we worked to find the right combination and proportions of flowers with the initial goal of replicating the scent still following him around. After a while, Drei and I both decided it shouldn’t be a replica because the original had been a solution to his pain and a gift to me, his love. He suggested I take more creative control over its composition as I was now in need of channeling pain. I didn’t argue, and it wasn’t long after I started feeling better. There was something about catering to life that balanced a loss of it.

Kneeling by the water, I set some blossoms floating into the center of the lake. My yearly ritual, because I didn’t have an urn or a grave to send them to. The lake is the second best thing to him, as it is where we first met and where most of our happiest memories were. It is also where he made his first sacrifice for us.

I brush the tears from my eyes, wondering, not for the first time, if I’ll ever be able to stop crying for him.

“Abriel,” Drei calls from behind me.

I watch the blossoms for a moment more before turning to jog up the stairs to the balcony off our room where he waits. Where he has waited every year on this day.

“Beautiful flowers you chose this year,” he says, opening his arms to me.

“Thank you.” The sadness dissipats again, waiting for next year. Tending a garden really minimized my sadness surrounding the event to the point I only felt it deeply once a year. And like clockwork, it’s back on this day; I wake up with it and that’s how I know to go to the garden and pick whichever flowers speak to me for my annual visitation. “Why does it feel like it hurts more every year?” I ask, gazing out at the small specks on the calm surface of the water.

“Because it is another year you have lived without him,” he replies gently, rubbing my back. “And another year you realize he will not return to say hello.”

There’s a truth to his words, more truth than I want to admit. It is the first year I have asked, and I can’t believe he’s hit on it so well. No matter what had happened, Nick had always popped up somewhere else, smiling, calming me, apologizing for something or another from the time before. Subconsciously, I think I’m still waiting for him to show up and apologize for scaring me so badly.

“Nick is not coming back this time,” Drei whispers. I appreciate his honesty; it’s the only way I’m going to stop crying on this day. And I know that. But some part of me, somewhere deep in my heart, doesn’t want to stop hoping, even if I know I should.

“I added the angel and the guardian to our memories room,” I say, changing the subject. Although they have been available for some time now, Drei has avoided adding them to our collection. I decided to correct the oversight.

“At least it is not a doll;” he smirks and I hit him lightly on the arm. He is never going to let that one die. Though he continues to smile, his eyes darken a little, growing more serious. “There is one thing you have yet to ask me.”

The sky begins to lighten with the coming dawn as I try to think of what he means. When it strikes me, I know why I hadn’t remembered. I haven’t thought about it in years, and now I might finally have the answer I have been wanting since Drei first mentioned it.

“Do you think you have fulfilled your promise to the Lady of the Moon?”

“I strive to deserve your love every day,” he says softly, holding my gaze steadily, his amethyst eyes bright and resolute. “And I will never deserve it until I strive every day hereafter.”

“There is no one else I would rather spend my eternity with,” I confide before he kisses me.

A light crosses the forest and we stop, stepping into our room and closing the French doors. It is my first sunrise since I had a pulse. Most of them before now I had slept through, but not today.

“You know, if we ever grow tired of forever, I could change that,” I remind him, resting my head on his chest.

“I do not imagine I will grow tired of spending my un-life with you, Abriel,” he says as the first rays of dawn fill the room.

I miss it, though, because I’m looking at him, and all of the promises that fill his eyes. Eternity is a long time, but he silently promises he will love me everlastingly; and by the way he kisses me, I can tell he knows the same is true of me.

Vampiric: Chapter Twelve, Part 2

“The property was engulfed in flame by the time I returned. At first I was stunned, not understanding what was happening. Then I rushed inside, searching for my sisters. Ashlyn and Avery were already…they were so still when I found them. From what I could tell, they had been restless and playing a game in the parlor. The door had been left barely open and my sisters had been pressed against it as if that is where they had fallen. I carried their asphyxiated corpses outside, unable to stand the thought of them burning. I ran back inside for my parents, finding them dead and bloodied, their skin already beginning to burn. The rancid smell was embedding itself into my skin and burning my nostrils, so I left, unable to do anything more.

“When I returned to where I had left my sisters, she sat there, waiting; my sisters were nowhere to be seen. She taunted me, saying I had brought this upon them. No one refused her, and that was why they had to be taken from me. Then she wrapped her arms around me, beginning her seductions anew. I tried to kill her, not fully understanding what or who she was, but knowing I wanted her dead;” his anger seeped into his words, his voice shaking again but from emotions far more sinister than pain. “Knowing she deserved to be dead.

“I was seized from behind by two of her boys, several more circling us. She traced a finger along my face, explaining how she loved my energy and was glad I had made it difficult for her. Then she bit me.

“When I woke a few days later, I found she had changed me, one of her boys explaining what that meant exactly. He said I was hers, and that meant she could use me however she wished; then he fed me my first meal. I was shocked when he threw the woman at me. She was bleeding from a cut in her neck and I realized how famished I was. That woman was not my last, but each that I fed on, I regretted later,” he said, though I wasn’t sure why he was telling me this. Knowing he had killed people…I understood it was his condition, but it can be difficult to see your hero as…flawed.

“Not long after my awakening, she called me to her; she promised if I behaved she would tell me what had happened to my sisters. Where they had been buried.” He shook his head, clutching my hand between both of his. I hadn’t realized how painful it was for him when I had asked before. Never in my dreams did I think it could be this horrible.

“Years passed in what seemed like days, and each time I would request that one bit of information I wanted, she refused me. She insisted I had failed to be attentive enough. I had yet to accomplish this for her, or that. Somehow, I had managed to displease her. And yet I had done everything she asked of me and more. I abandoned my humanity and buried my feelings of remorse after each hunt; I gave her no reason to despise me. Every time she denied me, though, I grew to loathe her more.”

Drei stopped talking and studied our hands, as though that image gave him strength. As though it reminded him I wasn’t her, and I wasn’t here to hurt him.

“You don’t have to tell me everything now,” I told him. His amethyst eyes held mine, a look of disbelief obvious, as though I was missing something. And I probably was. But how could he expect me to catch all the little things he wasn’t saying when I was worried about what telling me this was doing to him?

“You do not understand what is happening yet,” he whispered, glancing away again. After another moment of silence—in which I couldn’t help but wonder why he felt it had to be done now when we had eternity—he began again. “I overheard her speaking, one day, of how she would never tell me where they were. She treasured my company too much. At dusk, before the rest awoke for a night of ravaging, I killed all of them. Decapitating each one in their sleep, and setting the place ablaze.

“I wandered then, unable to die and unable to live; I avoided feeding until I absolutely had to, and could usually be found drunk and unmotivated, occasionally brawling with drunken humans. It seemed the worst existence to be stuck in…until someone came along and gave me a bit of hope.” A smile cracked his lips. “Gloria found me brawling with a human. She told me to stop searching and then walked away.”

“You followed her,” I said, sitting up. I wasn’t sure how long I could stay sitting up, considering I felt light-headed and ill after doing so. Drei perched on the edge of the mattress beside me, taking my hand in his again.

“Of course. Gloria is how I learned of elementals, clairvoyant vampires, and about the emptiness filling me. She told me not to give up on love because it had not given up on me. But for the meantime, I had to stop seeking it, else it would continue to elude me. It was not until speaking with her, I even realized love was for what I had been searching. The moment she said it, though, I knew it was true.

“After my conversation with her, I recalled the legend of the Lady of the Moon. She had always fascinated me, and I had studied her extensively throughout my living days. So I vowed to her, if she would bring me love someday, I would strive to deserve it.”

“Did you?” I asked, watching him carefully. He seemed so fragile as he spoke, I was terrified he would break and leave me alone in this place. As disappointed as I was that he was here to begin with, having him with me was better than being alone.

“I am not there yet,” he chided gently, squeezing my hand again, a smile barely visible on his lips. “Over the next few hundred years, between trying to locate my sisters while avoiding remembering my actions, bettering myself emotionally, and, in the past few decades, searching for and saving elementals, I began to find a balance in my life. The anger was still there, the first response to anything unpleasant, but it was no longer ruling alongside grief. Stoicism was my aim, and when I came across Valetta, she seemed at first to help that goal be attainable.

“For the longest time, I had thought she was the one I was to love. That was when I built my garden,” he said, holding my gaze again. “It was to help soothe unpleasantness and, in part, be a gift. Gloria stopped my thoughtlessness. She was not the one, nor had she ever been. She provided love, but I had none in return for her as much I longed to—which was a truth I could not deny. I valued Valetta, but I felt obligated to behave in ways to communicate love for her. Valetta did not handle the truth well. For many years, she was understandably upset;” he hung his head and furrowed his brow. “I did not mean to harm her emotions, but I could not allow us both to live untruthfully, and she did eventually forgive me, though, as you might know, her protectiveness is still fierce.”

“I definitely know,” I said, grinning sheepishly as I remembered how cold she had once been toward me. It seemed like forever since I had seen her, longer so since she had despised me.

“When Gloria first told me of you,” he continued, glancing at me again, “I had the most remarkable urge to bring you myself. We had never harbored an air elemental before, and I had thought that was why I was so eager. I had not meant to contact you before you had an inkling of the changes you would undergo, but seeing you struggle those nights to sleep, I could not help myself. You reminded me of my sisters in your restlessness. It was not until later I discovered how unlike them you were—are at times. How troubled and unhappy you were, yet stuck where you had no wish to be, even if you would not admit as much to yourself.

“Before I had reached this realization, your similarity to my sisters was unbearable. I had not meant to…but I found myself biting you.”

“So that was you.”

“You knew all the while,” he said, as though he might have raised an eyebrow at me had the situation been different. “I did not dare trust myself after that. If I lost myself in thinking of my sisters, I was sure to turn you, and that would be unacceptable. I knew that. Yet I could not help but return occasionally and watch your growth. You were never to know I was there, but I could not help but let myself be known when those men proved their intentions were dishonorable. Particularly towards you.”

I brushed a lock of hair from his pale face. “Thank you for that. You didn’t have to, but you saved me anyway.”

“But I did,” he said, shock lacing his voice. “I have already said you reminded me of my sisters, but I had come to realize you were different from them in so many ways. As you healed, I volunteered my stories, hoping they would help you. And as I did, I grew more protective of you, as I had been of my sisters, but…in a way that made little sense to me. It remained that way until it was far too late for me to alter the situation.”

“What do you mean?” I recalled his protectiveness, thinking of it then as unnecessary. Confusion kept clouding my thoughts and I didn’t see how this explained anything.

“I was—am in love with you. With the Council, the emotion is as punishable as the deed,” he said solemnly.

“Drei,” I said, smiling and trying to cheer him up. “We don’t have to worry about them anymore.”

Drei turned from me and his whole body seemed to sag under a new weight. “Abriel, we do.”

Vampiric: Chapter Eleven, Part 1

Chapter Eleven: Tear Stained

I couldn’t tell if I was in pain. It might have been so intense I couldn’t recognize that’s what it was; but it might have been nonexistent, and my brain was just trying to find it.

On the ambulance ride, the EMT kept talking, kept saying the same things Caroline had. She was there, too—still hysterical and panicking—demanding he do something while he argued he was trying and needed her to calm down. As they fussed around me, trying to stop the bleeding in my back, everything started blurring on the edge of my vision. It wasn’t long before I couldn’t make out any of his features, but Caroline was easy to differentiate; her hair was flaming, almost as brilliantly as she was. Her element seemed to be wrapped around her in bright crimson ribbons. Even after I blinked, trying to clear my vision, the ribbons were still there.

The blurriness didn’t go away as another group of nurses and doctors swarmed me. They were all talking, reading stats and asking questions. None of them seemed to have faces, though a few had blue or green ribbons wrapped around them. The only thing that made sense was trying to stabilize my condition—at least until they figured out the extent of the damage—and whether it would be better or worse to remove the bullets.

One thing that scared me was the stale air they kept forcing into my lungs. It wasn’t the air I was afraid of; it was how it didn’t feel right in my system. That, and the fact I didn’t seem connected to the air around me anymore. Before I could have improved my hearing, picked up on other’s emotions and thoughts. Now, I couldn’t do any of that. And, worse yet, it felt like I was going deaf. All of the chatter from the nurses was dying away into oblivion. Even Caroline’s screaming voice was being pulled away until it was barely a whisper.

“Let me through,” someone was saying, his voice coming across clearly despite having lost all of the others. It rang in my ears, startling, comforting, and familiar. “Abriel,” he whispered, his voice drowning out all of the other noise.

“Drei,” I breathed shakily. A blinding pain shot through me as if talking was against the rules. It died away and I could feel his hands wrapped around mine, his lips brushing against my knuckles.

I couldn’t begin to explain how strange it was to see him, for him to be there. He hadn’t spoken to me in almost eight months. In two thirds of a year. Yet here he was, as if nothing had ever separated us. Though I couldn’t feel anything inside me, I was willing to bet my heart was racing.

A white shape passed by the door and Drei followed it, demanding to talk to whomever it was.

“What are you planning to do that will heal her?” he demanded, leaving no question they would do otherwise. I couldn’t make out what the white shape was saying, but Drei responded, “I am the closest to family she has. What are the options?”

It was a long time before Drei answered whatever babble the shape had spilled. I had closed my eyes, trying not to think about dying. Even if everyone else would like to think they could delay it, I could feel it setting in. It was why the air wasn’t responding to me anymore. At this point, it was inevitable but I seemed to be the only one aware of it. What was worse wasn’t that I was dying; it was I still hadn’t done the one experiment I had wanted to try.

But he was here. If my heart stopped beating in the next moment, I would be okay with it. As much as I disliked her way of bringing him back to me, she did. And for that, I was eternally grateful.

“So if I say yes to the procedure, she may live?” Drei asked, still conversing with the white shape. There was more soft murmuring and then he replied, “Do it. Whatever it takes, do it.”

When he returned to my side, I wanted to tell him no. It wasn’t worth it. He was only putting off what was bound to happen.

“They will take you soon,” he whispered, brushing my hair back. “I shall be waiting here when you wake.” I wanted to promise I’d wake up again, but I couldn’t guarantee it; I couldn’t even force the words out. “You will wake again.”

He followed them as they prepared to take me into the operating room. Part of me knew he couldn’t be there with me, but it didn’t stop me from wishing he would be. Just in case I wasn’t able to see him again.

Vampiric: Chapter Eight, Part 4

“You’re up,” Caroline said, pulling open the curtains to let a flood of sunlight in.

Shielding my eyes, I realized I was in her apartment. But that didn’t make sense. The day after the broadcast, I went to work as usual, and the last thing I remembered was trying to locate the pile of applications. “What happened?” I asked, sitting up.

“You tell me;” she sat at the foot of the bed, crossing her legs and interlacing her fingers; the tips of her fingers turned white. Her hair was thrown up into a sloppy bun and she didn’t appear to be wearing makeup.

Why did my head hurt? It had hurt since before I sat up, but I couldn’t figure out why. I wasn’t particularly susceptible to headaches. “I don’t know…the last thing I remember was working.”

“That’s the last thing you were doing—before you passed out.” She pressed her lips into a thin line.

“What?” How was that possible? I hadn’t even been tired…not that I remembered anyway. Though, if I had hit my head, that would explain the headache.

“When was the last time you slept, Abs?” Caroline asked.

Looking away, mentally preparing for whatever yell-fest my answer brought, I muttered, “I don’t remember.”

“Don’t mutter now,” she said sternly, her voice laced with the anger she was keeping at bay. “You’ve never had a problem speaking to me before, don’t you dare start now, Abs.”

“I don’t remember. Probably before—” His name stuck in my throat and I couldn’t force it out. It felt like if I did, I would start falling apart again. “Before I came here.”

“Jesus, Abs,” Caroline whispered, her visage falling. She reached a hand to her face, a finger resting across the bridge of her nose and her thumb on her left temple. “Why didn’t you tell me you couldn’t sleep? I have sleeping pills and stuff; I used to have bouts of insomnia;” her body was tense with the effort required to restrain her anger. Caroline stood, beginning to pace along the foot of the bed. “What were you thinking?”

“I wasn’t, okay?” I said, wishing she would just leave it alone. I had screwed up, great. We both knew it. Could we move onto item two of her agenda?

“What were you doing instead of sleeping?” She stopped her pacing to stare at me, hands on her hips. Some of her hair had fallen out of her messy bun and she batted it over her shoulder.

“I went to the park mostly, to walk around,” I said, avoiding her gaze, hoping she would get a clue and leave. Seriously, it wasn’t like I had starved myself. I avoided thinking how I wouldn’t have been able to make even that claim if she hadn’t ensured I ate on a semi-regular basis.

“Why?”

“I don’t know;” I shrugged. “When I got there, it felt like I was trying to find something.”

“Something or someone?”

I ignored the question; I didn’t know the answer anyway. When I didn’t say anything, she prompted, “What did you find, then?”

“The moon;” I met her bronze eyes for the first time that morning.

“The moon?” Her tone revealed her skepticism even as she struggled to keep her face neutral. I didn’t expect her to understand, and I wasn’t up to explaining. It was too complicated and involved too much that she wouldn’t—didn’t understand. Nothing I said could change that, just like nothing I said could make him listen.

Sitting at the foot of the bed again, she took my hands in each of hers. When I met her gaze again, the copper disks seemed to burn into me, trying to understand me while attempting to make me see reason.

“Abs, you need to sleep at night,” she said slowly as if speaking to a child about monsters in the closet. “You’re my secretary, and my friend, and I need you to be healthy. I can’t have you passing out for days on end—you’ve been out about two days if you were curious.” I hated how everyone thought I was curious about how long I passed out at one time. “So to stop you from sneaking out, I’m going to ask Ian to stay over the next couple of weeks. He’s a light sleeper, so don’t even try to leave. Okay?”

“Okay.”

“Now go back to sleep. I want you in top shape tomorrow and back to work. We have a broadcast in a couple weeks and I need my office back.” She smiled at that, as though teasing. I found it chellenging to smile back.

“No worries, Abs. I’ll have you smiling again in no time,” she said, squeezing my hand.

“Will it ever stop hurting?” I asked, tearing my gaze and hands away from hers. It was a question I had been tossing around for a long while. I wanted—no, needed—to know the answer. Every time I let myself try to sort through it, attempt coming to terms with everything that had happened, it was unbearably painful and I had to stop. I had to find some distraction, like work or lies.

“Will what stop hurting?” Her smile faded in her confusion. Then her features brightened and I knew she realized what it was I was asking. She hugged me but she didn’t otherwise respond.

“Will it?” I repeated, needing the answer. Now that it was in the open, it felt like I could function somewhat normally someday if I had the answer. If it was the answer I wanted to believe but didn’t seem able to.

Caroline replied, “You can only hope it will.”

So hope was the answer. It didn’t seem very promising, but it was better than being told no. Thinking back on those days, that year in general, hope was all I had—despite being in amazingly short supply. The future seemed a touch brighter so long as I was clinging to hope.

Vampiric: Chapter Eight, Part 3

The night of the broadcast, Caroline took Ian and me out to a restaurant for dinner, her way of ensuring I was going to eat something. She may not have noticed my sleeplessness, but she had noticed my eating habits. They discussed if everything had been triple checked and if there were enough cars to carry everyone. According to all the files I had looked over the past weeks, the group had expanded considerably—at least quadruple the size it had been at the first broadcast; we were large enough to be seen as a real force of reckoning.

We were back at headquarters before most had arrived, but a few people were milling about anxiously. Caroline reminded me I could work up in the office some more if I wanted, but Ian would fill in for me tonight. She didn’t believe I was emotionally ready for the task.

As I walked toward the stairs to the office, I noticed Drei standing in the shadows, hands buried in his pockets. Before I knew what I was doing, I was in front of him, feeling something for a change. Feeling anything was frightening and a relief.

“I’m sorry,” I whispered, trying to keep the sudden press of tears at bay. “But nothing happened. I should have talked to you about it sooner, but I swear it’s not what you think.”

He looked over my head and then to the left as though scanning the thin collection of early birds.

“Listen to me,” I cried, forcing him to face me even if I couldn’t force him to see me, to acknowledge me. “You’re wrong, Drei. Okay? For once, you’re wrong.”

“I am not mistaken,” he said icily, refusing to meet my gaze.

A burst of air pinned him against the wall, and I was there, standing inches from him. Anger and hurt raced through my veins and logical thought failed me. I wasn’t even sure what I was doing, or planning to do. “You are. Just listen to me, will you?”

“There is nothing for me to hear.” He turned his face away from me.

“That’s not true!” I shouted, wanting to make him listen. He had looked at me when I started to assert myself, maybe he’d listen if I did something else. If I didn’t give him any other choice, I could force him to face me…see me…hear me. Maybe even believe me. Instead of just being stuck in his own head and his own pool of pity, too blind to see the damage he was causing.

Caroline interrupted, stepping between us and forcing me away from him.

“Just let it go, Abs. Let it go; it’s easier;” she ducked her head around to try blocking my view of him.

I fought to move around her, to close the gap she was creating, but it was half-hearted at best; I didn’t want to hurt her. “He needs to listen to me,” I cried, tears searing my cheeks.

“No, Abs. He doesn’t want to and you can’t force him,” she said sternly. “All you can do is leave him alone.”

“But I can’t,” I argued, wishing she’d go away. I didn’t need her to tell me what I was doing; I could figure that out for myself if I really wanted to. With the tears, though, the anger was draining quickly and, with it, the last of my energy.

She led me up to her office, sitting me down in the chair and squatting before me; she wrapped her hands around mine. “Work, if that’s what helps,” she ordered. She bit her inside cheek as if holding back some other choice comments. I guess she figured one of us had to rational and that wasn’t going to be me. “Trying to change him isn’t going to do anything except hurt you more.”

I tried to tell myself she didn’t know what she was talking about, but she was right. I had been fine feeling nothing, and now I felt like I was just in a new mess altogether. So nodding, I quietly said, “I won’t leave the office until you’re all gone.”

“Good,” she said, relief washing from her. “This is in your best interest, Abs. I’m not trying to be a bully, you know.”

“I know.” I wasn’t able to meet her gaze. I would have told her it was hard, start to let her help me a little, but I couldn’t. It seemed every time I let someone in, something went wrong. They either left me or told me to leave them, always after they hurt me.

Despite my earlier intention of doing some more sorting, I couldn’t bring myself to move from the chair. For a while I just stared at the stacks of paper everywhere, trying to figure out why I had approached him. What had I expected to happen? When I didn’t find an answer to that, I listened to the pre-show jitters downstairs, letting their words drown out my thoughts. It was easier than actually thinking. Thinking was dangerous for me. Who knew what I would do? I certainly didn’t.

After the cars all drove into the distance, I left the office, deciding to walk back to the apartment. The cool night air calmed me a little, and the hidden stars seemed to twinkle louder than usual, as if trying to comfort me; the moon watched, and I let her. When she felt the time was right, she would do something, I guessed. So I questioned how long that would be. How long until I could hold him again and know he loved me?

Vampiric: Chapter Eight, Part 2

Caroline offered to give me a week or so off from work, but I knew there was still so much to get done before the broadcast. So when she refused to drive me—not that I complained—I hailed a cab most of the way and walked the rest. I needed to do something to occupy my mind and time; I would go insane from the unanswered questions and instant replay if I didn’t.

To say she was livid when I showed up would be hugely inaccurate. She was way past that. I could tell by the fireball that was hurled towards me, barely missing my head. That, and the storm of yelling that followed, summing up to basically question why I was so hardheaded. When she shushed long enough for me to say anything, I simply told her, “I need this.” I could only hope she would understand how painful it was sitting in her apartment alone.

“Fine;” her arms, previously crossed over her chest, dropped to her sides. “But I’m not giving you any work.” Turning to Ian, who stood behind her, watching the goings-on with a mixture of confusion and interest, she said, “And you won’t either.”

“Then I’ll find something.” She nodded and began listing things they still needed to do before Saturday night as Ian followed her to another area of the building.

Left to my own devices, I made my way into her office, a project already in mind. When I’d had to file the charts I redid, I remembered thinking her cabinets were a mess and it was a miracle she could find anything. The chaos probably stemmed back to Conan; I doubted he was much concerned with keeping her organized.

So I set to work, pulling all of the files, emptying the folders, and re-sorting the papers into stacks around the room. At one point, I decided I should start stuffing folders again, so I went out to buy a few multi-color packs to help further organize everything.

The project took up my time during the day. Trying to determine where everything belonged was all that mattered. I wasn’t hungry so I often skipped meals without trying. Caroline stopped in occasionally during the week with food and sat down, telling me I had to eat something. I would eat some of it while listening to her talk about what was happening and ask if I needed anything. Every time my answer was the same: no. I was fine. Don’t worry about me. But I knew the more I said it, the less she believed it.

After the first day, she gave me rides there and back, her reasoning being she couldn’t stop me, so she might as well save me the cab fare. The morning trip was laced with conversation, mostly her prying and trying to coerce me into dealing with what had happened. It didn’t work because I wouldn’t let it. I wasn’t ready to deal with it. I just needed more time.

My nights were spent outside. I would wait until she was fast asleep before sneaking out. Sometimes I went out to the rooftop garden—I was drawn to it despite how painful a reminder was. Other times I would find a park and walk around aimlessly. On those walks, I often felt as though I was looking for something in the trees, searching for someone in the clearings, hoping for one thing or another to lead me away from this half existence. The only thing I ever found was the moon.

When I saw her hanging in the sky, Jake’s words returned to me from all those years ago, from the night before he left the camp to return home. Drei had struck some deal with the Lady of the Moon, keeper of promises. I didn’t know what he had promised, or if she was doing her part in it, but every night I was out there, I asked of her the same thing.

“Bring him back to me...please. I can’t keep living like this.”

I would stare after her until she began to disappear over the horizon. Then I would sneak back into Caroline’s apartment, pretending to have just woken up. She didn’t know I left at night; she didn’t know I couldn’t sleep. It was just another reminder that no one could replace him; it was also a painful reminder of how much and how little he really knew about me.

Elemental: Chapter Ten, Part 6

I woke up in my bed, buried beneath several comforters, alone again. Nothing in me felt like moving, eating, or anything. Everything still came to me, despite the light tapping on my window. I couldn’t even question why that was; I started to, and then the words flew away.

Nick stopped by, an apology planned. I didn’t roll over to face him; I knew he had already reported the camp; it was either that or be imprisoned with the rest of us since they had likely avoided interfering as long as we were oblivious. He relented sputtering when I didn’t move or say anything.

Drei’s voice drifted to me from wherever he was, disconnected and nonchalant. He never mentioned my name, and avoided any questions concerning me. He was always in a meeting, too, discussing how to save the others, and what to do about Nick. His ignorance of my existence may have deeply scarred me if I could care; but nothing mattered anymore. It was better for everyone if I just stayed away and kept out of things.

It might have been hours or days I laid there; time didn't seem to move in its conventional way, or perhaps I had merely lost my ability to pin it down. I was unable to ignore anyone, listening to everything around me, whether it meant something or not. Nick came in at some point, though, and freaked. I didn’t look to see what he was freaking about, but I knew he went straight to Drei. I tried to direct my listening to other conversations, not wanting their argument to take precedence.

The next moment, it seemed, Drei was at my side, kneeling.

“Abriel,” he whispered, fraught.

I sat up, turning to face him. “Yes?” I questioned, my voice devoid of emotion. That was another thing I didn’t seem capable of holding onto for long.

Drei reached for my hand, taking it in his and kissing it. “You…the air is consuming you,” he managed, his voice unsure.

“I’m fine…Drei?” I was just beginning to realize the worry. He couldn’t see me. I sat half inside my body; its visage was pale, the blue-gray eyes cold and unseeing. My chest barely moved with breath. “What’s happening?” I was not yet panicking, but slightly interested in this translucent state.

“Abriel,” Drei whispered, ensuring Nick—standing in the doorway—couldn’t hear. “Your body will die, though, essentially, you will not; your soul will become a part of the air.” As he spoke—the words difficult for him to muster—I couldn’t help but consider how peaceful that sounded. The air gives life to everything, sees everywhere, and, though sometimes destructive, essential for so many aspects of livelihood. Few people blamed the air for wrongdoing; it was opposite me in nearly every way it seemed. “If you do not wish for that to happen,” Drei continued, “then you have to use what control you yet possess and pull yourself back into your body, but—but you must do it quickly.”

I listened to the instructions, because I always listened to him. But I didn’t want to go back. What did I even have to go back to? He wasn’t upset with me only because I was in this situation, but that didn’t mean he wouldn’t still hate me. It made more sense for me to let this run its course. Maybe I would finally have my wish granted and find some long-lived happiness; maybe they would both find some peace.

Nick wasn’t crying, but he wasn’t the kind to let his emotions overcome him—not these kinds of emotions anyway. When I turned to gaze down at Drei, I felt my heart beat again. Tears streamed down his ashen cheeks, his eyes an amethyst so pale, they were nearly white. He didn’t make any sound, but he clutched my hand as if it were his only lifeline.

Those tears were the deciding factor. I had never known Drei to cry, and something about what Valetta had said earlier echoed in my mind: I had fought for Nick because I wanted him to stay. Now it was time to do something that wasn’t for me, even if it meant forfeiting something that sounded so ideal.

It took a few minutes, but with enough convincing and a touch of stitching, I settled back into my body, warmth flooding me, blood pulsing at a steady rate, and the sounds outside my room dissipating into nothingness. Drei’s hand still held mine tight, but flew away the moment I began to sit up.

My mind raced between my possible reactions, finally deciding to still be wary of his temper.

“It won’t happen again,” I promised.

I lay back down, drowsy, ignoring Nick and Drei. They had gotten on well enough without me the last few days. I didn’t want to be in anyone’s way.

Besides, it left me time to ponder what else was coming. Jake had been right; loving Nick had almost cost me my life. Not because of anyone else, but because of myself. What was yet to come, I couldn’t fathom. It all seemed dark and helpless from there. I had very possibly passed up my one chance to do something useful.

Elemental: Chapter Nine, Part 5

Christmas rolled around, much the same as the past year. The main difference being I didn’t stand off on my own. I leaned against Nick, watching the children scramble for their gifts. The eldest children—one of them being Jake—and a few not yet 15, received transcripts as a present. They had decided they were ready to go home again. The good-bye party was that night. Some would be escorted back by train, but most by taxis to the nearest airport.

I was slightly upset at seeing some of them leave. But that was the reality. They grew up somewhere they could be safe and explore their elements. Then, when they were ready, they said farewell. I just never thought it would be so difficult to see them go; I had underestimated how much I had grown attached to them all.

Mitchell waved, and I knew there wasn’t a surprise present this year. I wasn’t shocked, honestly. That would be more difficult to explain to Nick than my comment on light hearts. He still asked about that.

“I have a surprise for you,” Nick said, tugging slightly on my hand. I followed him to my cabin.

On the front step lay a blanket of flowers. Initially, I was overwhelmed at his thoughtfulness. Then I realized where the flowers had come from, and I couldn’t hide my disappointment. I thought he would be more respectful towards the garden. It wasn’t his and I knew he hadn’t asked. Even if he had, I doubted Drei would have approved.

“They’re lovely, Nick,” I responded, the sorrow painfully obvious in my voice.

“Everything all right?” Though I didn’t face him, I knew he was worried about me. I could feel it and, for once, I was tired of his emotions permeating my own.

“I’m just tired,” I lied, gathering the blooms in my arms. “I think I’m going to sleep for a little bit.”

“Okay,” he replied, a hint of disbelief slipping through. He didn’t press me, though.

The flowers were arranged on the windowsill where the ice sculpture used to sit before it melted. The rocking chair helped me to feel better, but I was worse off than before and there was only so much help for that.

“Do you really love him?”

I jumped, not realizing Jake had even entered and now stood in the doorway.

“Don’t sneak up like that,” I needlessly warned, forgetting for a moment he was leaving that night.

“Do you love Nick?”

“What’s this about?” I asked, instead. I didn’t really want to think about this even though I had been for much longer than I wanted to. “Why are you asking?”

“Something isn’t right, Abriel. Not about Nick, and not about you,” he said. I had never seen him so serious, which was saying a lot since he was possibly the most serious of all the children here. “You changed when he came. Though we’re happy that you’re happier, none of us think this is going to end well.”

“Who is ‘we’?”

“All of us,” Jake responded as though this was obvious. “There’s been this really weird vibe surrounding Nick since before summer. And it’s starting to infect you;” he stepped into the room, burying his hands in his pockets. “That night we visited—you said it was you. The problem wasn’t Nick or Drei.”

“It was me,” I insisted, trying to follow where this was going, how any of this was important.

He shook his head. “It wasn’t just you. If you think about it, you’ll know it wasn’t just you.”

That memory started to revive in my mind before I shoved it aside. I didn’t want to think about it. Part of me was afraid that if I did, I would discover I had made a mistake, even though I wanted so desperately to believe I hadn’t.

“So why do you want to know if I love him?”

“Because love is worth any cost,” he responded softly. “That’s what Mom always said before I came here. She knew the truth about this camp, and she felt it was the best for me. When I asked her if she didn’t love me anymore, she told me she loved me more than ever. And that it was only temporary. She said love was worth whatever you had to give up.”

Listening to him, I wondered how many of the others had similar stories I had never asked about. It also made me question how much I was willing to give up for Nick. Over the last months, I had started to think it was love, but they say you never know what love is until it’s gone. I just couldn’t be sure about anything, it seemed.

“How much would you give up for Nick?” His eyes studied me, taking in everything but not casting judgment on whatever they saw.

“Everything,” I replied, the word heavy and light on my tongue.

Jake nodded sadly. “The Moon will hold you to that soon enough.”

“What do you mean?” Since when did the moon have anything to do with this? I felt like he was trying to go somewhere and was losing me along the way. But I didn’t want to be lost.

Jake launched into a brief explanation; “Every promise is tested, and the Lady of the Moon watches to ensure they’re upheld.”

“How, though?”

“Ask Drei sometime. He holds her to her word just as much as she binds him to his; it’s why he always watches out for her.” Jake started to leave, but turned at the last moment, adding, “If you really are willing to give up everything for him, be careful, Abriel. You’re a great person, but the price might just be your life.”