103 | ACT VII, SCENE XIV

P R E V I O U S L Y

"Elodie," Tristan's voice shook, trembled even - "meet my Queen."

CARLEIGH PALACE, SUNCAIRN, ELLESMERE.

EDWINA

WHEN SHE STEPPED INTO THE light, I finally saw the woman he loved so much.

I'd seen her once, before. Once, in a fevered dream full of pain and heartbreak, seen her face break apart into a million pieces before dissolving behind my closed lids. Even then, nothing could have ever prepared me for the shock of finally seeing this woman standing in front of me, alive.

Those eyes. That hair. That very same face, those high cheeks, that sharp jaw.

Eyes filled with tears.

I'd cursed this woman over and over. Called her names. Insulted her memory. Before I finally understood, finally guessed the truth of her and her twin.

The moisture was shining on her cheeks. Her hand reached out, wanting to touch, but quietly did she draw it back when her gaze met mine. Instead, she dug into the sleeve of her midnight blue dress and brought out a heavy golden locket.

"Edwina, I-" she raised her eyes to mine, her voice just as I had imagined, soft and full, lilting like the gentle breeze. "You - you've probably had enough of tears... so," her gaze darted to her brother, who nodded his head almost imperceptibly. "I will never be able to thank you enough for what you did," Elodie whispered.

"I-"

"Please," the slender goddess insisted. "Hear me out."

I sighed deeply and nodded, and her lovely, trusting blue eyes filled with gratitude. Something about her reminded me of the breeze at sunset, lovely and soft and endlessly beautiful at the same time.

"You - you are the bravest person I've ever known. My only regret in this pitiful, short life is that we couldn't meet before. Before... before what happened. With Thanatos," her voice cracked at the end. Behind me, Tristan tensed, and I could feel the sky rumble above our heads. "I - I did not deserve your mercy. You owed me nothing. You owed us nothing. But you, Edwina Tremayne, you gave and gave and gave, even when they took everything from you. You gave us all so much, and we will never be able to repay what you did. You saved my brother, and me - me, Edwina. You gave me another chance. Another shot at life. When you could have chosen your father, your mother... but no. I have never seen a more selfless person. The universe tests some people over and over again, and here you are at the end of it - still standing."

I could feel moisture pooling again in my eyes, could see my father, my mother.

Could hear those damned screams. Tremayne screams.

"I just-" Elodie twirled a curl of raven black hair around her finger, the action betraying her nervousness. She straightened up, mustering some more strength as steel crept in her voice. "I just want to tell you that... no one could have survived what you did. You are a fighter. Endollon could not have a better Queen," she smiled softly as she looked at her brother with love. "And that... I am very proud - to call you my family."

That tenderness in her voice, that rawness, that genuine emotion - snapped in the air like brittle glass, threatening to tear me to shreds.

Say something, my brain urged. Say something.

But I could not, for the life of me, drown out those screams ringing in my ears. Yet those eyes, her dark blue eyes, they pierced me with their sheer emotion. She knew how it felt. How it felt to have someone love you so much that they could burn the world if you asked them to.

The locket shone in her palm, resting like a heavy, dead weight. I slowly reached out as she gauged my reaction, before carefully dropping it into my waiting hand.

"You're far better with the colors than I am," she let out a tired smile. "But... I tried."

The locket was made of simple gold, yet very heavy. Midnight blue lapis lazuli shone in neatly arranged rows near the clasp. I clicked it open, fingers shaking.

It was a miniature painting.

It was us.

All of us.

Valmont, Tremayne, LeVane.

There were spring tulips in my mother's auburn hair, her eyes a dreamy green as she looked lovingly at my father. He had a casual arm draped over her shoulder as they both shared some secret joke. To their right, a young Celinette ran her fingers through locks of shining silver. Beside her, for the first time, Apollo looked at her with something that looked like actual emotion. At the back, Helios proudly gazed at his children, shining in resplendent gold, while Nyx had a hand on her younger daughter's shoulder. Llewellyn sat on the carpet with a grinning Ness in his lap. Aidon's head rested on Irina's shoulder as she held a tiny baby bundled in white muslin. Amphitrite was giggling beside Eric, trying on his crown as it slid lopsidedly over her head. And in the middle - us.

Tristan, looking at me with tenderness as I laughed at something, flicking back my hair to let him tuck a rose behind my ear. Our faces shone, glowing - as if free of all these horrors that had plagued us over the years. Free of pain. And hurt. And war and loss.

For all that we had lost. And all that could have been.

A dream. A perfect, perfect dream.

"You Valmonts," I croaked at last, my voice so, so hoarse. "Damn you and your perfect speeches."

• • • • •

The locket now rested on a chain around my neck, where Tristan had placed it minutes ago. My fingers kept on reaching for it, tracing the line of lapis on the front again and again as we talked to the guests.

Those people. Didn't they ever tire of talking?

When I died, they said - the volcano underneath Dilston Castle had finally awoken, rising to burst and destroy almost all of Knavesmire, the prosperous capital. Geneva had done her work - evacuated the people a mere hour before my death. Irina and Aidon and whatever remained of the Tremayne staff had moved to a new home in Bromwich, close to the Mylandro Forest. Half of Dracnesse still lay in ruin, they said. Gone - my old, beautiful home, that place full of memories from more than half my lifetime. That place where I'd grown up.

And now it was nothing more than broken bricks and debris.

Irina told me that neither Tristan nor Eric had had the heart to clear that rubble. They had refused to touch it, she said. Tristan, especially, who was a living, walking ghost - they hardly saw him even around, let alone got to talk to him in private.

Aidon took on the title of Lord of House Tremayne two weeks after my death, Llewellyn whispered. He'd been weeping so much that they hadn't seen him for days, and no one even had the heart to mention it to him in his mourning. Every year, on the two consecutive days of my father and my death anniversary, he'd walk among the crowds of Dracnesse the way I did, giving away food and talking to the people. She'd want this, he would say, and smile sadly before going his way.

My throat clenched as I looked at him now, standing next to his son as they sniffed suspiciously before pouring out an old vintage, all grins and smiles. Aidon. Aidon was a good man.

Someone tapped me on the shoulder.

I turned around, lost in my thoughts.

"Remember me?"

That - that face - I'd seen that face somewhere.

She flicked strand of light golden hair behind her ear, purple eyes dancing with joy. Ivory lotuses were tucked into her artfully braided hair as I looked at the goddess with awe, unable to believe myself.

"Miriel?"

The woman grinned, showing off a set of perfect white teeth.

Heavens - I couldn't believe how grown up she was, now a full grown woman in charge of her own life. She twirled, showing off her curves as the mermaid fitted dress flared out around her, a beauty in shimmering platinum and deep indigo. A bejeweled knife hung from a belt at her waist, displayed for everyone to see.  My mouth dropped.

"I know. Ostentatious, isn't it?" Miriel laughed, spinning on her heel to show me the open back, where her smooth, freckled skin gleamed in the moonlight under the swirling lines of dark ink. A tattoo. A curled scorpion. Beautiful and deadly at the same time.

"I look at you and still see the same ten year old who chased her kitten and followed me around while pulling my dress," I let out a chuckle, amazement still gripping me.

"Please don't mention that to Alexander," she whispered conspiratorially to me, mortified. "Can't ruin my chances. I'll be embarrassed for life."

"Bit bold, aren't we?" I muttered, thinking of Eric's grey eyed, solemn son, with his steady voice and patient words. "I'll be sure to pass on details of your awkward childhood to him, then," I found myself smiling, unable to contain my happiness. She gaped at me with her mouth open, eyes big. "Shut up," I laughed. "You're the goddess of karma. And the head of the Elder Council. You'll figure it out," I breathed.

Oh, how had she grown. So beautiful. So deadly. A living, breathing weapon.

I felt like a proud mother who watched her daughter blossom into a warrior.

Miriel, meanwhile, looked at me quietly, way past jokes as she insistently searched my face. Her eyes fell to the locket resting in the hollow of my neck, and then to my wrist - where I'd taken a cut after the Blood Oath on the day of our marriage.

My skin was bare. Unmarked. As if someone had wiped it clean.

I'd lost that too, apart from the other things.

"How are you doing?" she asked quietly

My fingers twitched, brushing off an invisible piece of lint off the fabric of my sleeve.

Gone. That tiny, precious thing we both had shared - Tristan and I had lost that, too. I could deal with my death, my parents' death, but this - this one hundred year old mark. This was gone, too.

"I'll... it'll get better. One day."

Miriel leaned in closer, and my first instinct was to recoil, nearly flinching. Her nose flared, eyes widening with ever growing concern, darkening. She tentatively placed her hands on my shoulders as I braced myself, not able to meet her gaze.

"Don't lie," she whispered. "Not to me."

I didn't know what was the truth anymore. I didn't know what was a lie. I just wanted to put my head down and sleep, sleep until all the blurriness sorted itself out.

"You've lost too much," she continued. "I... I don't know what they did to you in that cell. What did they do to you?"

"I can't-" my voice broke, brittle and unsteady, memories flooding to me like a dam burst open. I didn't know if I'd be able to stop. If I'd be able to tell them, tell them without breaking down. I didn't have it in me anymore. I was cold and miserable.

Miriel didn't dare to look at me with pity. There was only violet anger flickering in the pits of her eyes.

"I hunted them," she hissed, her voice low. "We tried so hard, and we failed - and look at what he did to you."

"I know."

"But you're back safe. They can't get their hands on you now. You escaped. They'll be looking for you. They'll let their guard down. Give me leave," she pleaded, "let me find them and drop them at your feet."

I wasn't - I couldn't - I wasn't ready for that kind of blow. It would rip the wound open before even giving it a chance to heal.

"No," was all I said.

"Let me try."

"No."

"I found Celestina on foot even when she was fleeing the Triarchy and the entire might of their armies," Miriel looked hurt, as if I were doubting her capabilities.

"I can't. I can't look at them again. Not - not without... thinking. About what happened."

Her fingers curled around mine with desperate urgency. Yet she was the one who seemed to understand, even given her burning need for revenge.

Revenge - it simply wasn't a concept I could wrap my head around anymore. There was only cold, burning hatred. Cold as the rest of me. There was no fire. Only the flickering ashes of it. A mighty, deathly feeling, yet it buried itself deep within my bones, fast asleep.

I wasn't sure I could taste revenge anymore.

"When you're ready, then."

I nodded, waving off a waiter who offered me a glass of wine for a second time. A moment later, Tristan's arm slipped around my shoulder. He looked cautiously at me, trying to gauge if I was stable or on the edge of teetering over into full fledged insanity. Deciding that I was certainly leaning towards the latter, he carefully steered me away from the heart of the crowd to the quieter, cooler corners where Vincent was excitedly setting up a telescope to observe the constellations taking place at midnight. He grinned, waving as we approached, before turning to talk to Emerick who was muttering something under his breath before running through his third packet of cigarettes.

Widowhood had not served him well.

There were purple bruises under his heavily lidded eyes, and even through the silk and cologne, I could deduce that he'd clearly been drinking... and perhaps been doing drugs. A dark stubble sprawled across his chin, his eyes had turned a darker green, and his hair seemed unkempt. I had never taken Emerick Rotavelle to be a faithful husband, but he'd not moved on from Justaline's death at all.

And how could I blame him?

Out of Uranus's six children - Zadicus, Pandora, Cosmo, Titania, Justaline - they were all dead. Only he remained.

I hated him still, but something about seeing another person suffering the same way hit me hard.

He caught sight of me, and his face turned bitter.

Of course. Seeing Tristan and I together, even after I died - it was like rubbing salt on his wound.

I shuddered.

He saw it. It was too late, but he saw it. And before I could stop him, he was walking our way.

Tristan wrapped me closer, his mere touch enough to put the monster under my skin to sleep.

"You're cold," Emerick pointed out.

Beside me, my husband tensed.

"It's a cold night," I shrugged my shoulders, pretending indifference.

"The cold never bothered you before," he continued, pressing in further. I felt the colour slowly rise in my cheeks. Eric turned around, his brow furrowed, and so did I few others. I couldn't do this. Not now. Not in front of everyone.

"Rotavelle," the High King let out a growl, full of warning.

"You don't have anything left, do you?" Emerick demanded, features coloring with realization. There were more and more stares coming my way now. Those were not pity, just flickering surprise. "You don't have any powers left, do you?" he questioned, closing in. "They took everything from you."

Tristan swept me behind his back in an instant.

"Watch your tongue, mongrel. Before I cut it off."

"You're - you're useless. You're an abomination!" Rotavelle shouted, his eyes darkening to meet more confused, slightly angry stares. I saw Eric beckoning to his guards already, ready to quietly dispose of the matter before it became a public spectacle.

"Emerick," I said quietly, my voice hoarse.

I only saw anger gathering in his eyes.

'You don't deserve to be alive," he let out a hiss, "you're nothing. You're a ghost. The Regnant of Endollon died a hundred years ago."

Tristan's sword was out in half a second, and before I could fathom what was happening, its tip was already at the Rotavelle's throat. The god reared back, snapping, drawing out a blade of his own, fury washing over him. Eric was already upon them, Helios behind him.

"That's enough, I think-"

Swords left their sheaths, blood dripped to the ground, fists clenched-

Flames sprang out of my palm.

The crowd gasped, stepping back. The strain of keeping even a handful of flames alive was making perspiration roll down my temple.

The fire had always been a part of me. It was what my cells were made of. My atoms only knew that fire, and nothing else. They could torture me, stab me, kill me, make me scream - but they could never ever beat the fire completely out of me.

"Call me what you want, Rotavelle," I pulled myself up with whatever shattered strength I still had. "But I have never been... and never will be nothing."

But this was all I had.

One drop.

Nothing like the blazing, enormous sea of flame that had thrived under my skin before. I could burn entire castles, dry seas, set off volcanoes before. That was all gone now. All that was left was one tiny drop, one untouched kernel of fire hidden inside a corner. A mere ghost of what it had been. A mere ghost of what I had been.

"How?" Helios whispered, his face set into relief from the dancing shadows. "How... how is this-"

"Of course," Eric let out a broken, quiet laugh before he sucked in a breath. "Unless a ruler of the Triarchy strips you of power - you never really lose all of it." His darkened eyes met mine over the points of the already disappearing flames as they flickered in my palm.

The fire collapsed into my skin, gone just as quickly as it had appeared.

Tears threatened to break out of my eyes.

This. This was all I was.

Besides the blood running in my veins. Besides the one drop of flame. This was all I was. This was all that made me different from a human. What made me immortal.

This was next to nothing.

"This is all I have," I croaked, and my voice was hoarser than ever. "This is all of it."

Faces aghast, pale cheeked, they looked at me. But it was not pity that shone in their eyes this time - no, it was something like horror, horror at what I had left - with something that looked suspiciously like awe.

Awe.

"I don't care about that. You're a fighter. You'll always be a fighter," Aidon said quietly. "You fight. You fight until you can't fight anymore."

And beside him, Eric nodded gravely, the beginnings of a small smile resting on his lips. Tristan softly kissed the back of my hand before lacing his fingers in mine, and a wave of relief - of comfortable numbness washed over me.

"For someone who's about to die in a few minutes, Tremayne, you sound too hopeful."

Fear sliced my senses like a blade of wicked steel. That voice - that damned voice - that voice which was going to haunt me forever.

Not even half a second had passed before Tristan pulled me behind his back without question, without hesitation. His fingers went right to the sword at his hip, fist clenching and unclenching and clenching again.

The clearing went painfully silent. Even the piano stopped.

Standing right there, right at the gates - was him.

My blood froze in my veins as his deathless eyes swept over my body.

And then, Thanatos went white with only fury gleaming in his face.

"Well, Edwina. It seems like you cheated me and got away with it."

My brain automatically tried its best to block out the frightening voice, and the only thing I saw was the rest of my family pull me back, coming closer and closer and closer till they stood shoulder to shoulder, right in front of me.

"Thanatos," Eric said quietly. "You have one minute to get out of my home, or you don't leave alive. Go. Now."

He smiled a cold smile, before unsheathing his scythe with a rattle of steel.

"Not without her."

That smile - that sadistic, predatory smile burned into my eyes, burned into the back of my head. I'd seen it countless times. And the only thing that followed that smile was endless pain.

"She isn't going anywhere," Tristan let out a deadly hiss. "But you are, Thanatos. To the very same hell you came crawling from."

A loud rumble shook the ground as the Thunderbolt appeared in his hand. His eyes were pitch black, more furious than an enraged lion. He took a step forward, and I knew that he wasn't going to go back until he'd killed my tormentor for good.

Miriel stepped up beside him. Then Aidon. Then Eric and Helios and Atherton. The remaining closed up behind them, leaving me surrounded by a tight knot of family and friends.

Around me, swords clicked into place.

That sound was a death rattle to my ears, swallowing me up whole. I only saw red. Those soulless black eyes - that very absence of light in them - and that cold, casual smile that bloomed with my screams. There was darkness creeping up my throat, looking for an out. Too scared to scream, I clenched my fists tighter, leaving red scars on my palm. I had to punch something. I had to hit something. I wanted my blades. I wanted my sword. I wanted to drive it into his gut, to hear him scream the way he made me scream. I wanted him to taste that fear, to feel that agony, that unbearable darkness rolling in the gut. I wanted him to pay.

I wanted to make him pay.

I wanted to watch.

Fire sprang up in my palm once again. Only anger, only that desperate, hungry need to see him on his knees fueled those flames. Green flames.

He looked right into my eyes, as if he could see right through me. Another smile flitted across his lips as he casually, coolly observed the fire rolling in my palm once more.

"Well, well. It looks like we might have to spend some more time together, Edwina. I look forward to seeing you back in those chains."

And then, Tristan Valmont snapped.

The Thunderbolt was out of his hand, hurtling through the air, slicing through it as it dove straight towards the god of death, relentless in its pursuit. Thanatos ducked, eyes gleaming as he moved as quick as a knife, face whiter than marble.

The bolt raced through the air, returning to its master.

Tristan flung it again, and this time, stepped forward with Aetherius in his grasp.

Thanatos leapt forward, avoiding the bolt's clean, precise cut - before reaching out to grab it. It whirred out of his grasp, and he growled, unsheathing a giant greatsword made of shimmering Bloodstone.

Heavens - no, lords. If - if something happened to Tristan-

The swords rang and clashed under the moonlight, beautiful and deadly, the way all lethal things were.

The first blow struck Thanatos squarely on the shoulder as he narrowly missed a strike from the bolt, his body pushing forward to fall on his foe's blade. Blood trickled down, a stark black against his alabaster skin under the harsh light.

He flung back, and an inky black wave of darkness streamed out of his fingertips, tendrils of it reaching out, coiling in the night. A yelp broke out of my lips as his sword met the skin of Tristan's neck.

I was going to - I was going to scream - he was going to get hurt -

"No," Miriel clamped down on my arms with an invisible force, pulling me back. I couldn't watch this, couldn't see him hurt.

Helios unsheathed his sword with a grim smile, eyes glowing, and so did Eric and Aidon beside him.

"No," Tristan growled, his voice more powerful than I had ever heard. "Stay back. He is mine."

Temporarily blinded by the wave of darkness, he lashed out with the bolt once more, the pulses on it gleaming a bright, brilliant blue, crackling with static.

Because if he had been affected by the darkness, so was Thanatos.

But the Thunderbolt wasn't.

Because its only purpose was to bury itself into the target.

The black tendrils wisped away into the cool evening breeze as the bolt found its mark, followed by an excruciating scream and the smell of burning skin. There was blood trickling down Tristan's temple, but his eyes were blazing a vicious blue, burning like hot coal.

He drove his sword right into Thanatos's calf.

That scream was the most beautiful sound I had ever heard.

He rolled up his sleeves, his face nothing but a statue frozen in nothing but a thirsty, dire need for vengeance. For what he did to me.

"You bastard, Valmont-"

One well placed punch, and the sound of shattering bones cracked in the air.

And then another, and then another, and then another.

The sound was like a whip.

My heart pounded like a drum, whether from fear or exultation, I did not know. The blood was still trickling down that nasty looking cut at the back of his neck. His eyes were cold though, and I knew that the injury was the last of his worries.

"You will never get her back," Thanatos rasped, spitting out blood as it dribbled from the corner of his mouth. His eyes were more soulless than ever, a glimmer of insanity shining in them. "Never," he repeated. "You really think she will ever be the same again?" he leered. "I broke her. She'll think of me every time she sees that sword. Everytime she sees that blood. Everytime she looks at either of you, when she remembers what they let me do to her. And when you're in bed with her and making her scream... even then, Valmont, she will remember me."

His raucous, drawn out cackle jangled my nerves.

Tristan's only answer was the blade of Bloodstone he sunk right into Thanatos's gut.

He screamed once again, and that noise was a terrible, terrible thing.

The High King of Endollon stepped back from the bloodied body on the ground, and there was nothing human in his face. There was nothing. Nothing at all. There was only a livid, blazing mask where Tristan Valmont's face had once been.

The dagger was waiting in his palm as he held it out to me.

The final blow. He wouldn't make it. He left it - that one satisfaction he had been chasing since a hundred years - to me.

If I was willing to take that chance.

The only thing I wanted was to return that pain. That endless, relentless pain.

My footsteps were silent as I walked over the paved courtyard. Miriel watched me with delight shining in her eyes, a carnal gleam in them. Beside her, my brother looked at me wordlessly, letting out a quiet nod. Deimos lingered in the shadows, slowly crushing a cigarette in his palm, watching the glowing embers with a growing calm.

Because this was what he did. Serving himself, right up to the very end. Even when I was going to kill his father right in front of his eyes.

I picked the blade off Tristan's hand, his gaze resting on me, and me only.

Show them, he almost seemed to say. Show them what you are made of.

I gulped that fear down my throat and dropped to my knees.

"You'll never get rid of me, Edwina," Thanatos crooned, almost lovingly. "I'm part of you now. And I'll haunt you forever. Until the day you never wake again," he whispered, his voice so deadly soft, he could have been singing a lullaby.

The throbbing in my head was too painfully loud to ignore.

"She'll find you one day, and she will make you pay."

If I didn't find her first.

My hands reached out for that vulnerable throat, shining like ivory in the moonlight.

"This, I whispered, as my fingers slowly closed around his neck, savoring that pain, that very taste of fear, "this is for my mother."

His eyes bulged out, threatening to pop from his skull as I squeezed harder, no remorse of mercy lingering in my brain. Veins burst in the white of his eyes, filling slowly with blood. I finally picked up the blade, running a fingertip along its edges to test the sharpness. A tiny drop of blood welled up on my skin before I slowly dragged it across his throat.

Then I plunged the knife into his wicked heart.

"This," I whispered, twisting it deeper and deeper into his chest, hands clawing at mine as his skin splintered, "this is for my father."

I closed my eyes, and reveled in the scream that tore out of his lips.

The life leached out of him, leaving him colorless, bloodless. The inky darkness beaded on his skin, itching to escape, to find a way out of death. Flames burst along the rest of his body, breaking out in spurts of uncontrolled power.

This was what he stole from me.

And it was escaping.

I would take back what he took from me.

With interest.

Instead of leaving him to crumple at my feet, I gripped his wrist, feeling that essence, that very essence of his being drain away. Instead of letting that flame roll skyward, leaving Endollon forever, I sucked it into me instead. Along with whatever made him who he was. Along with whatever made him death eternal.

Because I was still Cosmo's daughter. Because I was still the Regnant.

And because I could.

The darkness and flame rolled again into my skin as I welcomed it with open arms. That inexorable rush of power was irresistible, a high I had never felt. It was like being drunk on a centuries old bottle of wine, or rather, a thousand or so such bottles. I had never felt anything like it in all my lives and deaths and years of living.

I picked up his scythe, examining the burnished iron around its edges, dark with years of bloodthirsty killing.

A pretty blade. I think I was going to keep it.

"This," I said at last as I picked up his scythe, his eyes wide with nothing but fear as his life drained away. "This," I whispered, slowly slicing through his neck with his own weapon, "this is for me."

• • • • •

So. Where do I even start?

Miriel is now all grown up? Or that she's a brand new version of Edwina? Or that Thanatos is finally dead? Or that Edwina is now THE GODDESS OF DEATH AND (A LITTLE BIT OF) FIRE?

Well, I do like to damage my characters. But they usually get something back in return. The pain is always worth it :) and that's true even in real life xx

There's just one last chapter left along with the epilogue. That leaves me in tears :(( Anyways, I'm going to save all the thank yous and crying for the end, because I'm sure I won't be able to stop sobbing, ya know 😭 until then, stay golden!