Chapter 45: Ember.
"Do you think I can't feel that?" she said.
I went still, and then I straightened. I did not pull away from her, but something inside me did. "It is nothing," I said. "A consequence of a process. One that will settle, in time."
Ash looked at me. There was weight in her gaze. Weight that made me want to look away from her, except that would be its own kind of retreat. "Lys."
"It is a minor discomfort. One that is hardly worth-"
"Lys."
I closed my mouth. The humming in my chest continued. It had been continuing since I had woken, and I suspected it would continue until the day my eyes no longer opened again. If she could feel the hum from where she sat, she had been feeling it for some time. I had forgotten how sharp her senses were. The silence stretched. Ash waited. The weight in her gaze never left. I would have preferred she say something. This silent siege was effective. Ash shifted beside me, and her knee pressed against my thigh, and she waited still. I stared at the far wall.
“I wanted to keep both powers. The Cradle and the Requiem. Your suggestion -to fire them at each other- showed me a third thing. Something…in between both." I did not know why I was explaining, "I thought that if I might force them together inside my core, that third thing could carve it. It did.” Even as I explained, the humming grew louder.
"And this third thing," Ash's voice was very quiet, and very close. "It has not settled. No," She shook her head. "This thing will not settle, will it? It's hurting you and it will keep hurting you."
“Yes.”
"And you did this alone." Her voice had not changed in volume, but something in it had hardened. "You told no one. You asked no one."
"There was no one to ask."
"There was me."
I stared at the wall. A crack ran across the stone near the ceiling, thin and dark. "What would you have said?" I asked. "If I had told you."
"I would have told you that you were about to do something that could kill you. That there might be another way, if you had just waited. You didn't have to wait long. Just a day, or two would have been enough."
"And if I had done it anyway?"
"Then I would have sat next to you," Ash said, simply. As though it were the most obvious thing in the world. "So that if something went wrong, someone would know."
I opened my mouth and closed it. The crack in the ceiling seemed longer than it had a moment ago. It was not. Cracks did not grow from being stared at. "I have never needed to run my decisions by another," I said. The words came out stiffer than I had intended. "I am not in the habit of seeking counsel for my decisions."
Ash was quiet for a time. When she spoke, her voice was softer, little more than a whisper. "Now you can."
I said nothing. The silence stretched. The Core hummed and I shifted on the bed. "The danger was minimal," I said. "The chance of death was-"
"You are sitting on a bed in pain that will never stop. Lysanthia, do spare me the logic, just this once."
My own name should not have stabbed me so. My jaw tightened and I opened my mouth to argue. The pain would dull with time. Perhaps it would not dull exactly, but like all things, I would grow used to-
"You would have told Sara not to do what you just did." The words made me still. "If she came to you," Ash continued, "and said she was going to hurt herself, possibly permanently, because she thought it was the only way…what would you have said?"
I knew the answer. I would have told her no. I would have taken the sharp thing from her hands and held it away from her until she stopped reaching for it. I would not have let her choose pain. "That is different," I said. My voice barely went past my own lips.
"It is not." The silence after that was longer still. Ash shifted beside me. When she spoke again, her voice had changed. "Promise me something."
I looked at her. Her jaw was set. Her eyes were steady in the lantern light. She was not asking. "The next time you are about to do something that will hurt you," she said, "you talk to me first. You will come to me and you tell me what you are thinking, and together, we find a different way, if there is one to be found." She held my gaze. "Promise me that much."
Objections came without thought. The first, and the most obvious. I had never submitted my decisions to another's approval. I was a Queen. The second, and one less obvious. Some choices could not wait for counsel. More came. I ran through them all. I looked at Ash’s eyes, and found them all wanting. "Yes," I murmured.
Ash nodded once. Just once. "Good…Lys." She let out a breath she must have been holding. "I do not like to see you hurt yourself."
I looked at her. Ash was not looking at me. She was looking at the lantern, glowing dim. “Why?”
She frowned. She considered the question for a long time. “Because…I suppose it hurts me too…to know that you’re hurting, I mean.” She glanced at me. Her eyes widened, her face reddened. It was I who looked away this time.
I had nothing to say to the foolishness she had just said. Nothing to say at all. Ash shifted, or perhaps I did. Her hand touched mine. I did not pull mine away. Calluses aside, hers were very soft. “Why did you do this?” Ash asked. “This is not just about keeping both marks. Is it? There were other ways.”
I thought of the demonbloods I had seen. The way they had cowered, not just from me, but all things that were too loud. Of the children with small nubs on their temples in the city, staring down at the ground. I thought of the System I might have broken, and the way the world might have changed in a thousand years. Changed in a way I could have never foreseen. I did not say any of this. I did not say anything.
“You do not owe them your pain, Lys.”
I stared at her. She stared back. I was sure I had not said anything. And yet.
“Perhaps not.” They were not the reason. Not the whole reason. The Ash in front of me was replaced by a different one. One who hung in the air, held up by her throat. If there was power to be had, then I would take it. This was the surest path. That had been all that mattered.
Ash said nothing for a time. Neither did I. I said nothing, but something in her gaze softened anyway. She could not have known. She did not have any of her [Skills]. Nothing that would have let her read thoughts.
“So, did you name it?” Ash finally asked. “Your core. It’s an Essence Core but…that’s clearly not all it is, right? I don't think they'd classify it as just that, at least. I was wondering if you had a name for it.”
“You assume I would want to name it?”
“Yes.” Ash said. “Wasn’t the first thing you did after getting Lines to name your techniques?”
I could have pointed out that Ash herself had done the same thing, but that would be petty. “Very well. And, I have given it some thought.”
“Oh?”
I nodded slowly, staring at the lantern. Perhaps I had given it more than some thought. “I had considered calling it the Eclipse Core.”
“That’s a grand name.” Ash agreed. At some point, the hand that had brushed mine now sat atop it. It was not an uncomfortable weight.
“It is a grand name.” I looked at the lantern again. At its flickering flame. Now, it reminded me of another. One that had given off less light, but had felt far warmer for it. “But I have come up with one I like better.” I declared, to no-one. “An Ember Core.”
Ash said nothing. I frowned and looked at her, only to see her smile. “That is a much better name.” She said.
I was glad I hadn’t settled on the first name.
Eventually, we settled in. The lantern burned low, and neither of us moved to tend it. The room dimmed to shadows and the faint glow of a dying flame.
There was one bed, and there were two of us. It was a matter of simple practicality. It did not feel so tonight. I was aware of every shift of the bedding as Ash lay beside me. I was aware of the warmth along my side where her body was close to mine but not quite touching. I was aware of the egg that sat between us, ever pulsing. I was aware of the sound of Ash’s breathing in the dark.
The Ember Core hummed beneath my ribs. It was a low and constant pulse that sat just above silence and just below pain. I lay on my back and stared at the ceiling and made my breathing slow and deliberate.
I turned onto my side, facing the wall. The Cradle pulsed warm on my left arm and the Requiem pulsed cold on my right. Between them, the thing I had made hummed and hummed and it would never stop humming. I shifted again, and the motion was enough to make the bed frame groan. I silently cursed it, for ruining the quiet.
Ash's breathing was slow and even. She had fallen asleep. The stupid Hero, who could fall asleep anywhere, in any circumstance. I had found it annoying before. The annoyance was something deeper now. I should have learned the trick to this from her before.
I shifted again. I tried to find a position where the pressure eased, but each time I settled, the Core shifted its rhythm, just slightly. Tomorrow night would be the same. The night after would be the same. Perhaps every night would be, until my second end found me. I had paid worse prices. This was nothing. This was a mere splinter compared to what I had endured. The splinter would not let me sleep. I shifted again, and the bed groaned again, and-
"You are an idiot." I froze. Ash's voice came from right beside me. Her breathing had not changed.
"Excuse me?"
"You heard me." There was a rustling of cloth. She turned, and I felt the mattress shift, and then her breath was warm against the back of my neck. "It’s been half an hour, Lys. You are not sleeping. You are not going to sleep."
"I am resting," I said.
"You are in pain."
I said nothing. The Ember Core hummed. It had been so much more tolerable when there had been other distractions. There was movement behind me. Ash sat up, and then her hand found my shoulder. "Come on," she said.
"What are you-"
"Get up. We're going for a walk." Her hand was firm. "Neither of us is sleeping like this anyway. We may as well walk. It might help you settle."
I should have argued. I did not need settling. And I did not need help, which this so clearly was. I sat up, and lifted the egg from the pillow. My hands were careful. The egg pulsed, warm and steady. Ash watched me cradle it against my chest. She smiled. “You’re not bringing the satchel?”
“No. The hour is late, is it not?” I said. “It is fine.”
The corridor outside was empty. The lanterns burned low along the walls. We walked amidst shadows. My feet made little sound. Ash's were quieter than a Hero's had any right to be. Without the noise, this Academy was almost tolerable.
We walked without direction. Past closed doors and darkened hallways, past windows where the sky opened up beyond the glass. The stars were there. Ash walked beside me. Close enough that our arms nearly touched. We did not speak. Not at first.
I held the egg against my chest and looked out a window as we passed it. The sky was very dark, and the stars were very bright tonight. I found myself holding the egg closer. My arm had moved on its own.
"The sky is very blue here," I said quietly. Ash turned to look at me. She saw that I was speaking to the egg. I pretended I did not see her smile. "During the day, I mean. You will see it soon enough. It is…quite something. You will be a winged creature, and so you will travel it more freely than most."
Surprisingly, the egg pulsed twice. I chose to interpret this as interest in what I was saying. So, I continued. "The food here is adequate. I do not know if beasts are fed the same, but I will ensure you are. Or perhaps I will force the Hero to teach me this cooking." I glanced at Ash. "She is passable at it. Though, it had been some time. Perhaps her skills have dulled."
Ash made a sound that might have been a laugh. She pressed her lips together to stop it. We kept walking. The hallway curved into more windows, and I saw my own reflection pass in the glass. A dark shape with two jutting horns, an egg pressed to her chest. A Hero beside her, soft-edged in the dark.
I looked away from the reflection."I never thought I would have a child." The words came out before I had decided to say them. I said them to the egg, and to the dark.
Ash was silent for a few steps. Then, she spoke for the first time since we’d started walking. "Because you didn't want one? You lived for many, many years, didn’t you?"
"Because I could not." I adjusted the egg in my arms. "The Demon Queen's Class did not allow for the concept. Children were…not a possibility the System permitted. I do not know why." I paused. "I never questioned it. It did not seem worth questioning."
"And now?"
I looked down at the egg. The gold caught the moonlight through a high window, and for a moment the shell glowed. "Now I have this. Though, you are not quite a child, are you?" I said to it. "You are a beast. A creature born from whatever fool thing I did to save you. When you hatch, you will have wings, most likely. And claws."
The egg pulsed. "I do not know what you will need from me," I said. "I have never been responsible for another." I paused, correcting myself. "I suppose that is not quite true. I was responsible for an entire realm, once. Millions of lives were defined by their proximity to my power." I lowered the egg back against my chest. "That went poorly. That went…very poorly." The second came out in a whisper. I cradled the egg between my chest and my right arm.
Ash’s hand found mine. Her fingers slid between mine. I froze midstep. Ash froze with me. I did not pull away, though I could have. Her hand was warm and calloused and soft and her grip was steady. I could feel the ridges of old sword-work against my skin.
Then, we kept walking, hand in hand. Our fingers intertwined. My footsteps echoed faintly, and the Core hummed in my chest, and the egg hummed against it, and for a few steps all three rhythms almost matched. "I will do better this time," I whispered to the egg. Ash's fingers tightened around mine.
We turned a corner and passed another row of windows. The moonlight came and went in long silver bands across the floor. Something had been building in me, as we had walked. Ash had read something of my old life, much as thinking of it pained me. No, perhaps it had been building in me for some time before. Curiosity had ever been my sharpest hunger.
"Tell me about your friends, Ash," I said. The words came out strangely. I had not planned them. "You told me once…about a river, and the glimmering tree you wished to see. I would-" I stopped. Tried again. "I would hear more. If you are willing. Of things you have seen, or want to see."
Ash looked at me. There was something careful in her expression, as though she were weighing what to share. Then she smiled. "Ronan took me to a tavern, once," she said.
“What is this ‘tavern’?” I vaguely knew of such buildings being present in cities. Their purpose eluded me.
“A tavern is….” Ash paused for a heartbeat. “Like the common room of that Inn, but bigger. It’s where people go for…pleasure. Two kinds of pleasure, usually.”
I did not understand. So, I waited.
"Ronan said he loved three things," Ash continued. Her voice was very gentle. As if the words could break by using them unwisely. "He liked charging in first to every fight. Then, he liked drinking. Like what we drank at the Inn, remember?” I did remember. That vile liquid that had made me cough. “And he liked women." She said this last part with a particular strangeness that I noted. Her cheeks had color to them, though that might have been the moonlight. "He said I needed to- in his words- 'stop being so hopeless.'" She cleared her throat. "At- attracting women. And uh- at everything that might come after. This was long before I was…." She trailed off.
I looked at her. She was looking very determinedly at the hallway ahead. I could feel her pulse through her fingers. It was faster than it had been a moment ago. "He took me to this tavern he knew. It was very loud, and very crowded. He said it was 'the perfect place.' I'd never been to such a place before. My training had never allowed it. Anyway, he bought the first round of drinks and the second and by the third he was surrounded. There were just…women everywhere. I still don't know how he did it. He could listen to five women at once, and made all of them feel heard. Perhaps that was some [Skill]."
I nodded slowly. I was starting to understand the shape of this ritual, somewhat. Some of my own generals had engaged in similar behaviors, away from my eyes. "And you? Were you surrounded by any of these women?" I paused. Ash paused too. We had both stopped walking. The words had a sharper edge than I had planned them to.
“No! No, Gods no.” Ash’s free hand was making some kind of frantic gesture in front of her face. “He tried, he really did, but it never happened!” Ash exhaled through her nose. "I sat in the corner with my drink and spoke to no one for three hours."
The sound that came from me was entirely against my will, and it was laughter. It was the second time I had laughed today.
Ash groaned. "It's not funny."
"I do not recall saying it was."
"You do not need to say it!” Ash protested. We started walking again. “He came to check on me thrice. Thrice. All three times, he looked at me like I was a lost cause. The third time, he brought one of the women over himself and introduced her and I said-" Ash pressed her free hand to her face. "'Hello, [Inspect] tells me you chose a nice sub-class. I haven’t seen it often.' That is what I said." Ash groaned. “She did not appreciate the question. She left very quickly after that," Ash finished.
It had almost been enough to make me laugh again. Almost. All it did was pull a treacherous expression from my lips. "Surrounded by women," I said. The words came out with an edge I had not entirely intended. "Your Ronan was quite popular, then."
"He had a talent for it."
"And you have none at all, it would seem. My understanding is that this is quite the failing in humans." I was looking at the far wall. My voice was very even. "Three hours, and not a single woman of any quality saw fit to approach my retainer."
Ash's hand went very still in mine. She did not speak for a half-second. Then another. The half-seconds accumulated. "Well," she said. Her voice had gone strange. "That was…a long time ago. Things have…I mean, circumstances are-" She stopped. Started again. Stopped again. Her fingers had tightened around mine. "I think it's for the best," she said, more carefully now, "that none of them did. I would not have liked them. I have always been very er- particular. About what I like."
"What do you like?" I asked. It was genuine curiosity.
Ash made a sound. Her hand was very warm in mine and her pulse, which I could feel through her fingers, had quickened considerably. The color in her face had spread past her cheeks and down her neck. "Tall," she said, barely above a whisper. Then, even quieter, "Among other things." She did not elaborate. She walked faster. I matched her pace, though I did not understand the urgency.
The night air was pleasant. I did not know why she was so warm. Only that I was very warm too.
Ash was quiet for several steps. Her thumb moved once against the back of my hand. We walked. We passed another window -a tall one, broader than the rest. The glass was old and the moonlight poured through it and pooled on the floor at our feet like spilled silver. I caught our reflection again. I stopped.
I saw myself first. A dark shape with two jutting horns. An egg cradled against my chest. My hair was loose, and it fell past my shoulders, and my expression was something I did not entirely recognize.
But that was not the whole picture. There was a Hero beside me. Her hair caught the moonlight in a way that turned it silver-pale, falling in loose strands around her face and against the line of her neck. She stood close enough that our reflections overlapped at the shoulders. Her shirt was loose from sleep, and it hung off one shoulder in a way that exposed the ridge of her collarbone. I had seen it before. I did not know why I was seeing it now. Her hand was in mine. I could see our fingers intertwined. In the reflection, it was difficult to tell where my hand ended and hers began.
I turned away from the window. "We should return," I said. Ash nodded. She did not let go of my hand.
The room was as we had left it. The lantern had burned to almost nothing, casting more shadow than light. I placed the egg back on the bed, near the wall. I checked it once and adjusted the pillow beneath it. I checked it again.
We lay down. The bed was narrow and the room was dark and Ash was beside me. The Ember Core still hummed beneath my ribs. The humming was still there. The pain was still there. But it was more bearable. Just a little.
I lay on my side, facing the wall. The egg was cradled against my chest. I closed my eyes. I was preparing for the long night. I was settling in for hours of wakefulness, of humming, of the ceiling and the dark. The egg pulsed, faintly. Zarvok’s musings invaded my thoughts. A pressure came with them, one that pressed against the backside of my eyes. Yes, perhaps I would have much to think about this night. Even without the Ember Core, sleep might have been difficult to find.
Ash moved. She shifted closer. Then her arm came around me from behind, and her hand pressed flat against my stomach, just beneath my chest, just below the place where the Ember Core hummed. She pulled me back against her, just slightly. I went rigid. For a moment. Then, I crossed the last distance between us.
Her body pressed against my back. I felt the length of her. The firm line of her stomach, the ridge of her hip against the base of my spine, her thighs settling behind mine. The soft, full weight of her considerable chest pressed against my shoulder blades. I was keenly aware of all of it, though I had no reason to be.
Her breath fell against my hair, against the curve of my ear. Her arm tightened, and her hand settled, and her fingers spread against my skin where my shirt had ridden up. The warmth of her palm sat directly over the place that hurt. I did not ask for this. I did not pull away.
The Ember Core hummed beneath her hand. It would always hum. But for a moment- just a moment- the warmth drowned out the humming. My body unclenched. Slowly. One muscle at a time, in an order I could not control. My shoulders dropped. My jaw loosened. My breathing slowed, and this time the Core did not adjust to mock me.
I should have said something. Some kind of rebuke. I had many weapons for that purpose. Ash's thumb traced a small, absent circle against my skin. I closed my eyes.
For the very first time, I fell asleep before the Hero.