When Marcus finally woke up his head ached terribly, his legs and arms felt heavy, and lights danced across his vision like playing pixies. Still he struggled upright on the bed he was lying on, trying to remember how he'd gotten here.
He couldn't remember much; a shower of gold, burning with his fire and then falling into darkness, and Bloom's voice, whispering words of assurance, finding it's way to him even in the darkness.
"Bloom" he whispered.
He looked around the room and saw traces of her all over. Plants and flowers were growing from the walls and floor, a vine was wrapped around the headboard of the bed and the smell of tree sap and dandelions filled the room. There was a black backpack hanging on the handle of the door and a long silver whip curled like a snake on the table not too far from him.
Clearly this wasn't the room Katarina had given him that late Tuesday night.
This was Bloom's room.
Just then the door creaked open and Marcus raised his head to see her standing in the doorway.
She was as beautiful as ever in dark blue jeans and a black shirt that hung on her curved body like a short dress. She had a tray in her hands with a bowl, a basket of fruits and a knife in it, a bottle of water was held expertly between her jaw and chest and she struggled to keep everything balanced as she walked to the table to place them carefully.
She hadn't noticed Marcus was awake yet, so he watched her as she sliced fruit and carefully placed the slices in a small bowl. Her movements were meticulous, cautious, artistic even, and Marcus couldn't stop himself from smiling at her.
Then she turned around and her eyes went wide when she saw him sitting and staring at her. She gasped in shock, the plate almost falling from her hand, spoon rattling and fruits nearly toppling, but she steadied herself and let out a sigh of relief.
"You gave me a fright" she said, as she let out more puffs of air.
"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to scare you" he replied.
She chuckled and walked to the bed, the hem of her shirt brushing the fabric below her knees as she approached.
"It's alright" she said as she sat at the edge of the bed, she placed the tray on her lap, picked up the bowl and handed it to him. "How are you feeling?"
Marcus sighed and took the bowl from her hands, his fingers landed over hers, the contact of their skins made literal heat rise to his cheeks. He raised his eyes from the bowl and looked at Bloom, her eyes locked on his for a second, and then she yanked them away along with her hands.
He leaned back into the bed, clutching the bowl of fruit to himself.
"I feel great, just…. drained" he replied. He looked down at the fruit bowl, a colourful display of watermelon, pineapple and green apple slices stared back up at him. His stomach growled. "And hungry"
Bloom laughed lightly, a laugh as light as a gentle breeze. Marcus laughed as well and then took a bite of fruit.
"What you did back there was incredible" Bloom said.
"Really?, I remember so little of it" he took another bite, unable to get over the sweetness of fresh fruit, "I've never done anything that left me this tired"
He felt her hands bunch up the sheets at his feet, he looked up but her eyes didn't meet his anymore, they stared at the velvet sheets like they were interstellar.
"But I'm fine now" Marcus said to reassure her.
She looked up at him, her hands releasing the sheets.
"And I am glad" she said as her eyes drifted away from his and focused on the bed once again. She straightened out the creases she'd made and began making circles on the bed.
"How are the others?" Marcus asked.
Bloom sighed with exasperation.
"They're alright, I think" she answered. "Everyone is just a bit flustered that's all, Mammon was a narrow escape, he would've killed us, if not for your intervention I'd be in front of the Judges by now"
"I am glad I could help, I just wish I knew how I did it" Marcus said, he played with the spoon for a while, moving the fruits around the bowl in a strange sort of dance. "It's overwhelming at times, having all this power and having little idea of how it works, what it might cost me"
"Who you might hurt with it, how it will change you" Bloom added, she'd moved from drawing on the bed sheets to fumbling with the hem of her shirt.
"Yes" Marcus replied, not even trying to hide his surprise and relief.
No one back at home had understood, not his friends, not his father, not even his mother. And yet here was a girl from a different world, facing the same fears, living with the same confusion.
"I understand you" she said, "I dread the power that will fall into my hands on the day I take that throne, I am afraid it will consume the person I am now and put in place someone I will barely recognize"
"It won't" Marcus said.
"You can't be sure"
"It won't"
"You sound almost certain" she laughed.
"That's because I am", his voice had gone sharp, so much so that Bloom focused wholly on him, shirt and sheets forgotten. "I have known you for such a short time and yet I have seen something in you that I haven't seen in anyone else"
She looked away from him with a scoff, as if he was joking with her.
"And what is it you have seen Marcus?" She asked playfully.
He creased his brows in anger and leaned forward, pushing the bowl of fruit away and reaching her face in seconds.
He planted a kiss on her cheek, the scent of dandelions filling his nostrils as his lips brushed her skin, slowly, delicately. He travelled to her ear and gently pushed her hair away.
"In you I see unaltered beauty, incorruptible, all encompassing and eternal" he whispered.
He heard her gasp and he moved away, afraid that he had overstepped. Her eyes were wide when he saw her face, and she touched the place on her cheek he had kissed her, as if trying to convince herself that she hadn't imagined it.
"I am sorry" he said.
She looked at him, as if truly seeing him for the first time. Then she looked away and rose from the bed, carrying the now empty tray with her.
"You should get some rest" she said as she moved straight to the door.
"Bloom, I apologize if I…"
But she didn't stay to listen, she opened the door and walked out without hesitation.
***
Sal sat on the purple sofa in his parent's loft waiting for his swords to be forged. It still felt unreal being here, surrounded by the life his parents had lived and lost. He wondered where they were now, wondered how they were doing, wondered what they would say when they saw him living the life they'd left behind, wondered if they'd take him back once they found out he was nothing to be afraid of.
At least not anymore.
"You think too much Salome" He heard Peter's voice say behind him.
Sal turned and saw Peter leaning against a glass case that held the claws of a chimera shedim. He seemed uncomfortable, no doubt because of the way this room must have made him feel. The room where his best friend and the love of his life had stayed for nearly their entire lives, now empty.
"I still can't imagine them here, wearing purple, fighting monsters, keeping the peace" Sal said. "It feels like I'm getting to know them all over again"
"You didn't know them long, I'm sure if they'd been given the chance to keep you they would have shown you the truth" Peter said.
"I know that it's just…" Sal sighed. "I know they didn't give up on me, they'd only given me up. But they gave up on all this, the Shemer, the Nightshade name, you!"
Peter sighed, his gaze on Sal thoughtful.
"I don't hate them for abandoning me, not anymore, but I hate that they abandoned everything and everyone here, I hate that they chose to end it all"
Peter moved away from the glass case, walked to Sal and sat beside him, even his gestures were fatherly.
"The Nightshades and Roses have been tied together for nearly four generations now, but you are the last Nightshade and I have no children so I am the last Rose" Peter said as he placed a hand on Sal's knee. "It pains me that I will not be able to continue the legacy of brotherhood our forefathers have started, but I am at peace with the fact that everything must come to an end, for if nothing dies we won't understand the value of life, and if nothing ends there will be no excitement for that which comes anew"
A chord struck in Sal's heart, not just from the words, but from the way Peter had spoken them, with a sad resolve, like someone who had known so much loss that loss seemed like a culture now. A way of life.
Sal wondered if he would one day speak with such resolve. He'd lost so much already, and was on the verge of possibly losing more. Would he one day look at everyone he loved and prepare for the day he would see them no more?
The thought scared him to near death, but he didn't let it show.
"That makes sense" he said instead.
Just then an envelope materialized on the table in front of them, it's surface shimmering with magic, a symbol sealed it shut: two wings stretched out in flight.
Peter picked up the Hermes message and tore open the envelope. He read it's contents and after a while stood from the sofa.
"Perfect timing" he said as he walked. "Your weapons are ready"
Sal shot to his feet and followed Peter out of the loft.
The Forge was empty of cyclopes when they walked in, the sun shed early morning light into the room and outlined specks of dust and ashes floating in the air. Sal wondered what time it was, he must have been gone for hours.
The only cyclops in the room was Leitha, her station was warm, the coal of her forge still red with heat.
She grunted a greeting as she saw them approach. There were two swords in her hands, both of them red hot, but Leitha didn't seem to mind the heat, a trowel was by her side filled with ice cold water and she had a wild grin on her face.
"Why is she so happy?" Sal asked, a little paranoid.
"Forging makes her happy, though I've never seen her so excited before, she must have really enjoyed making your swords"
"Speaking of which, why are they still hot?"
"Cooling the sword is the final stage of forging, it must be downed in holy water, and named immediately it comes out" Peter said.
"So that's why I'm here, to name the swords"
Leitha grunted in approval.
"Have you thought of a name?" Peter asked.
He had, at first he'd been unsure, the names he'd chosen had little significance, it didn't relate to his experiences or the things he'd gone through or even the nature of the swords. The names he'd chosen were the things he wished to do with his weapon, a reminder of who he was and what he could do.
"Yes" Sal said.
Peter nodded to Leitha and she placed the swords in the trowel.
Steam rose as the hot metal met the water's surface, the water shimmered, the swords glistening underneath the liquid. When the swords were brought out, their handles wrapped with leather, and handed to Sal he felt them hum, just as Kyrona had hummed in his grasp, and he bent his lips to each of them in a whisper.
"Nightburn and Fireshade, the blades that tear through the darkness and put asunder whatever stands in the way of all that is good". Each sword glowed with light, silvery white like moonlight. "Together they are Gemini, the twins"
As soon as he'd spoken the swords enveloped with blue fire, and then shrank, until they became rings on the middle fingers of both his hands. The Nightshade flower was stark on the silver face of the rings.
"What just happened?" Sal asked.
"They've bonded to you, Gemini will stay in that form until you call them forth once again" Peter explained, he reached for the chain at his side, the one that hung from one belt loop to another, and yanked it off. The chain transformed, red fire engulfing it, until Nathuel appeared.
Peter held the axe with practiced ease, and then swung it on one shoulder.
"Try it" he urged.
Sal looked at the rings, remembering what it felt like to speak names and hear them respond, to call out and be answered.
Gemini, he whispered in his heart.
The swords emerged out of a bout of blue fire, shining silver in his hands, the hum of power was unmistakable, the connection felt almost unreal.
"Salome, Wielder of the Twin Blades" Peter mused. "I think I like it"
Sal didn't but he didn't say anything. He smiled, now he had a weapon again.
Now he was ready.
***
Antony nearly jumped when he heard the familiar whirring sound of a portal opening. He'd been sprawled out on Sal's bed in a singlet vest and boxer shorts, waiting for Sal's return.
"Great, you're back", he announced as Sal walked out the portal, wand in hand, and patches of what looked like ash on his tunic. Antony stood upright on the bed, pushing locks of hair from his eyes and staring at his brother.
"Where did you go?"
"I went to see Peter" Sal replied, he sighed and walked to his table where he plopped the wand and proceeded to take off his jacket.
"You do realize that it's like three in the afternoon right?"
"It was a long visit" Sal said and walked into his closet, he came out with his tunic in his hands and was sporting boxers and a sweatshirt.
He walked out of his room and Antony followed.
They went down the stairs, pass the kitchen and into the laundry were a single washing machine and dryer awaited use.
"Sal, are you okay?" Antony asked.
Sal looked back at him once, before he turned to open the washing machine.
"Yeah" he tossed in his clothes, avoiding Antony's eyes as he pushed the buttons, "why wouldn't I be?"
Bloom's words echoed in Antony's head.
They have each other, what more would they need?
But Antony couldn't help asking, he had brothers from all over the world, but this was the only one he wanted to care for, and so he spoke.
"Katarina" he said.
Sal looked up at him, his jaw ticking, as if he sensed the uncertainty in Antony's voice.
The washing machine whirred to life.
"What about her?" he asked.
"I don't know" Antony said, already regretting that he'd spoken, "you seemed hurt by the things she said yesterday"
"Well I wasn't" Sal answered.
"Then why did you leave?"
Sal didn't answer for several seconds until the washing machine whirred to a stop. He busied himself with taking out his wet clothes and putting them in the dryer, the process was deliberately and painstakingly slow, leaving them in deliberate and painstaking silence.
"I needed a weapon" he said finally as the dryer tossed his tunic about, he waved his hands as he spoke, the silver rings glimmering as he did.
"aiònios?" Antony inquired.
Sal nodded, he looked at the floor, still not meeting Antony's eyes.
"Look Sal, I'm just trying to look out for you" Antony said, "I know what it's like to love…"
"No one said anything about love Antony" Sal cut in, his voice dangerously low.
"Sal, I am not blind, neither are the rest of us, we know that there's something between the two of you"
"You don't know what you're talking about, Katarina and I barely know each other, love doesn't just.... happen, okay?"
The dryer whirred to a stop and Sal flung it open.
The lid tore off it's hinges and flew across the room, crashing on the wall with a clatter and crunch.
Sal took a deep breath and then reached into the dryer, pulling out the clothes one by one, before storming out of the laundry.
Antony followed him until they reached his room, where Sal disappeared into his closet.
"Sal" Antony said carefully. There was no reply, only the faint sound of shuffling feet and the even fainter sound of leather being folded up and placed on shelves.
"Sal" Antony called again. This time Sal came out and walked to the table, pulling off his rings and placing them gently on it.
"Sal"
"What?" Sal said, his eyes were trained on the ring on his finger.
"Sal look at me" Antony said. "Please"
Sal sighed, pried the ring off his fingers and faced Antony with his bright blue eyes.
"Tell me you feel nothing for Katarina and I will leave you be" Antony said.
"I feel nothing for her" Sal said immediately.
Antony peered at his half brother and sighed.
His mouth was saying one thing but his eyes were saying something else.
"Say her name" Antony pressed.
Sal looked at him, his chest rising and falling rapidly, the ball in his throat moving up and down as he took a gulp.
"You can't, can you?" Antony said. "Saying her name is like a drug to you"
Sal blinked, his eyes wide, his chest frozen in between breaths of air. Then he shook his head and went back to his closet, grabbing his wand as he went.
"I'm going for a walk" he said.
It was clear to Antony in that moment that he'd crossed a line, but before he could apologize Sal had already slammed his closet door shut. A minute later Antony could see a blue flash of light from a crack in the door but then it faded and he knew he was alone.
***
Sal emerged out of the portal unable to breathe. He hadn't portalled far, his mind wasn't in such a mess that he didn't know where he wanted to go this time.
He was in front of his house, the few people walking on the street gave him weird looks, he didn't know what they saw through the Shade and he honestly didn't care, he just walked.
Antony had been right. He couldn't say her name, not just because it took him to a heaven he'd never been before, but because it made him fall to a hell he dreaded and dreamed of suffering in.
The afternoon sun shining overhead coupled with the thoughts Antony had put in his heart made it hard for Sal to emerse himself in the mundane luxury of taking a walk.
He barely heard as children ran about on the streets, their parents calling out to them in shouts of worry and frustration, dogs barking on the leashes held fast by their owners, cars honking and the sound of tires rolling on the sleek black road.
Somehow the city's noises had become a distant, insignificant part of reality, as all parts of reality had become.
He passed coffee shops and restaurants and bakeries, all familiar, yet foreign. Until he found himself in front of his school, a large red building probably buzzing with the sound of students.
Sal hesitated, then took a split second decision and walked in.
The halls were silent, only the quiet sound of Sal's crocks could be heard as he walked pass lockers and posters, classrooms and labs.
He was about to make a drastic decision, a decision borne purely of a mind fractured by a broken heart.
Peter's words echoed in his head as he climbed the stairs to the administration's wing.
Everything has an end Salome.
He got to the principal's office and knocked on the door without hesitation.
He heard a female voice say "come in" through the wooden door and walked in.
It was a large office, awards, a diploma and a degree lined the walls, there was a shelf on either side of the room and a wooden desk littered with folders and files occupied it's centre.
Sal remembered the times he'd been in here, times he'd been congratulated on excellent academic performance and exceptional good behavior, those things suddenly had less value than they did then.
"Markson, where have you been, your teachers have complained about your absence" said Mrs Noona, the principal.
Sal took a deep breathe, still thinking irrationally.
"I've decided to drop out" he breathed.
"What!" exclaimed Mrs Noona, she rose from her desk, her chest heaving as she took deep breaths. "Why on earth would you drop out, you're doing exceptionally well, the staff speak so highly of you, though you're not very social, is that the problem?, I promise whatever it is I'll take care of it"
She sounded so confused, like a teenage girl who didn't understand why her boyfriend was breaking up with her, it made Sal smile a little.
"No, not that, but thank you", he said, "I'll clear out my locker, and come back for my transcript later"
He turned, a hand in the pocket of his jeans as he did.
"Mr. Markson" She called again.
That's not my name, he wanted to say, but instead he turned slightly, his eyes not even settling on his school principal.
"Goodbye Mrs Noona" he said.
She wanted to protest further but before she could utter a word Sal was already out of the office.
He took a deep breath and went down the stairs to his locker stopping only to grab a plastic bag from the cafeteria as he went.
He put in his combination, punching each number with a huge swell of pride in the pit of his stomach, and was greeted by textbooks, notebooks, pens and pencils.
He emptied them all into the plastic bag without a moments hesitation, he didn't know why he was doing what he was doing but he believed it was the right course of action.
He swung the bag over his shoulder and walked out of the school just as the bell rang.
Soon he was in an alleyway in front of an empty dumpster, he dumped the bag in it and took out his wand.
He drew the Fire glyph on it and the bag erupted in pitch black flames.
"Goodbye Salome Markson" he whispered as his past was consumed by the fire.
He put his hands in his pocket and walked out of the alley, as if nothing happened, and to him.
Nothing did.