Lester had gotten to used to feeling absolutely nothing for months, and hadn't expected that the first time he would feel again it would be excruciatingly painful.
The grooves burning into his skin were agony, tears he didn't know he had left streamed down the corners of his eyes, and then he felt as he blew apart into atoms.
That last one had been a very peculiar feeling.
It was sharp and quick, like a pinprick or a startling drop of hot water, painful but not gruesomely so.
'Wait' Lester thought, 'I can feel at again' he realized.
And with a silent hope he willed his eyes to open up.
The first thing he saw was a gray sky above him, devoid of anything but a thick pale shroud, like mist over the murky surface of a swamp. He could feel something tickling his cheek and arms, and when he moved his head he saw it was grass, very tall, and as pale and gray as the sky above him.
Lester was elated and confused, elated that he could finally see and feel and move, but confused as to where he was and how he'd gotten here.
Questions rocketed across his mind, measuring possibilities, instances, looking for a way to figure out where he was, how he'd come about this place, and why he could finally see.
"You're not seriously going to lie there and look all mesmerized the entire time, are you?"
Lester scrunched his eyebrows and jerked his head up to see that someone was looking down at him, their hand reached out to help him up.
Lester didn't hesitate to take the hand, not because the voice sounded kind and welcoming which it did, but because he wanted to know what it was like to move and stand again.
As his fingers wrapped around their hand Lester gasped.
It was slim and soft, unnaturally soft, like a baby's hand just days after birth. He got over his shock and let himself be lifted from the ground.
Lester couldn't help the sharp intake of breath that followed as he came face to face with a man that was unlike any man Lester had ever seen.
He seemed almost ethereal, like a ghost.
He had short light brown hair, nearly a flaming red, that brushed against his face with the influence of the wind, his skin was fair and bright, like a ray of light, and he wore a long sleeved shirt and trousers, both of them sparkling white, the sleeves of his shirt unbuttoned.
His eyes were smoky and gray, and they stared at Lester with intelligence and wisdom and a silent fury. He looked no older than 30 but he gave the impression of someone that had lived a thousand years.
"Young man it's rude to stare" said the man with a smile.
Lester shook his head and laughed nervously.
"Sorry, I didn't mean to, I was just..."
"Staring" The man completed still with that same smile. It was warm and, oddly, genuine.
"Yeah" Lester said.
"Don't worry, mortals are often terrified when they see me, you're one of the very few that don't scream and run" said the man.
'Who would run from someone like you' Lester thought, wondering why he'd said "mortals" as if he was another being entirely.
He found himself becoming extremely nervous, and in a weird sort of way, like he was in front of a judge or a school principal.
"Who are you anyway?" Lester asked as he realized he was still holding onto the man and let go.
He looked around him at the field of gray grass and saw that it stretched on for miles and miles, nothing but swaying gray grass and the endless gray sky.
"And where am I?"
"Who am I?, that's a good question, people don't usually ask me that, usually I tell them not to be afraid and then proceed to do whatever it is I've been sent to do" said the man. "I cannot tell you who I am for I am not a being existing of myself, but I can tell whose I am, for I am a being existing of The One who made me, I am of The Father, and you may call me Uriel"
After hearing that Lester had a very good idea of what was standing in front of him, and he had every right to not be addressed as anything other than what he was.
"You're an angel" Lester said in astonishment.
"Yes, angel, cherub, mala'chim, but those are just names mortals use to describe my brethren and I"
"So I'm in heaven?"
Uriel burst out laughing, but he did it in such a way that Lester didn't feel offended and even had the urge to laugh with him.
"Oh heavens no, far from it actually" Uriel said. "You are in the Gap, the space betweeen worlds, the home of the wandering spirit, this is where souls dwell before they meet their End"
"Wait so I'm dead?"
"Yes" Uriel answered curtly.
Lester widened his eyes, he suddenly found it very difficult to breathe. But there was no need for breathing was there?, he was dead after all.
"Oh wait I'm sorry, I'm afraid I'm not very good at breaking big news, not as good as Gabriel anyway, look don't panic, you may be dead now but that doesn't mean you will remain that way"
Lester looked up into Uriel's gray eyes.
"What are you talking about?" he asked frantically.
Uriel smiled and placed a hand on Lester's shoulder. Lester felt calm instantly.
"There are thngs you mortals barely understand about your world, there are rules and laws and destinies that have been written long before the earth had form" Uriel said.
"I don't understand what you're telling me"
"I'm saying that you, Sylvester Aleric, were destined to die today, and I was destined to Mark you"
"Mark me?" Lester had gone from happy to scared to confused, and it had only been two minutes."What do you mean Mark me, like some kind of heavenly tattoo?"
Uriel laughed but Lester didn't find anything funny about this situation.
"You and I are a perfect fit I tell you, look you will come to understand all you need to very soon Sylvester" Uriel said. "But now is not that time, now you need to go back to your brother, you need to assure him, and you need to help him, you are his anchor Sylvester, he needs you for the journey ahead"
"My brother?, Sal?"
That didn't sound right, Lester had always been the one to need Sal. Sal had always been his anchor.
"What would Sal possibly need me for?"
Uriel smiled and grabbed Lester's wrist. It lit up with shining colours of yellow and white.
"In due time Fil de La Rouge, in due time" Uriel said. "But for now you must inform Salome, tell him that the Mother of Magic will Find him, and that he must heed her call, tell him that not all the Elder's are like the light bearer"
"I don't understand" Lester said. "I don't understand"
"I know, but remember that in the end, everything works together for good Sylvester, even when it looks like it doesn't" Uriel said.
Uriel released Lester and when Lester looked at his wrists he saw a yellow light flowing through his veins, it burned, but in a good way, like hot, smooth coffee flowing through him at the same time.
"I have done what I came to do and I am afraid our time together has expired" Uriel said. "I must take my leave now Sylvester, but I'm never too far away, never, goodbye Sylvester"
And then Uriel exploded in a flash of yellow light.
***
'What did I just do?, what the fuck did I just do?'
Sal looked from the bed, where Lester had lain just minutes before, to the wand in his hand and then to the bed again, icy terror snaking it's way up his veins every second he stared at the empty sheets.
He dropped his wand to the floor, suddenly terrified of it like it was a venomous snake gone stiff in his grasp.
Lester had blown apart into tiny droplets of blood and it was all around them, dancing in the room like early morning dew. Sal felt the urge to vomit, his mind still failing to grasp the reality of what had just happened.
"Oh gods" Antony exclaimed behind him. "Oh gods what have we done, what have we..."
"Antony" Katarina said. "Leave the room now"
Antony didn't argue, and the next thing Sal heard were his receding footsteps, followed by the sound of the closing door.
A second later Sal felt Katarina's familiar hand on his shoulder and he stiffened all over. How could she possibly touch him after what he'd just done?
"Sal" she called. Her voice sounded gritty despite her efforts to keep it together, he was sure she'd never seen something so gruesome, someone exploding into tiny particles, not a bone or tendon left to show for the person who'd existed. "You were trying to..."
"Don't" he said. "Don't make it look like I didn't just blow up my best friend"
"You were trying to save him"
"And I couldn't fucking do that!" he shouted.
He felt Katarina shiver behind him and sighed.
He needed to learn how to get a hold of his emotions, especially when he was in front of her.
He was a man that felt a lot of things, and yet, could choose to feel nothing, but when he was with her it was not a matter of choice.
He simply felt.
And now as the droplets of his best friend's blood settle on his skin he realized that he'd never felt as intensely as he was feeling in this moment.
"Sal" came Katarina's voice again, but he ignored her, shrugged her hand off his shoulder, and began to stalk out of the room.
Sal didn't drink but he'd heard that alcohol sometimes numbed pain. He needed to be numbed immediately.
He'd reached the door and was about to push down the handle when Katarina's voice came again. This time filled with urgency.
"Sal, look!"
Sal looked and felt his heart skip several beats.
He looked and saw as those atomic drops of blood began to reassemble, coalescing and reforming over the bed in a flurry of swirling red and shining yellow light.
He saw as Lester's head came into view, his chest, his arms, his legs, every single part of him becoming one, until it was Lester as Sal knew him, whole and complete and unmistakable.
He descended gently, hair fluttering, yellow light still dancing around him as he landed naked on the bed.
Sal heard Katarina gasp and then rushed to Lester's body and covered him with the duvet, feeling Lester shiver as his fingers brushed lightly over his friend's arms and draped the duvet over his bare shoulders.
He pushed a strand of hazel hair away from Lester's closed eyes and put his hand on Lester's cheek.
He was so cold.
"Lester" Sal whispered. "Lester please if you can hear me, please if there is still any bit of life left in you I need you to let me know, let me know that you're alive"
Lester didn't move, his chest didn't rise, neither did it fall, and for a moment Sal scolded himself for having hope once again.
Then Lester's eyes opened.
Sal exhaled in joy and relief, not even trying to control the smile that found it's way spreading over his face.
For the first time in over a year Lester's hazel eyes were staring back up at Sal, brighter than Sal had ever seen them in his entire life, and Sal couldn't contain the joy that filled his heart. He pulled Lester into a hug and exhaled again when Lester's arms went around him.
"Sal?, is that really you?" said Lester, his voice was a whisper, so soft and low that Sal was sure he was the only who could hear it.
"It's me Les, it's me" whispered Sal. "I've missed you so much"
Lester chuckled, his chest vibrating like the strings on a harp.
"Your hair's so long" he said as his fingers played with Sal's locks, his body shaking with sobs. "You need a hair cut"
Sal chuckled and pulled away, cupping Lester's face in his hands and peering into his eyes. They were the colour of honey now, and were luminous as they locked on Sal, as if they shone from the inside.
They weren't supposed to be.
"Sal what's wrong?" Lester asked.
"I'm so sorry I did this to you, I was just trying to fix you, I didn't mean to break you all over again"
Lester looked confused and worried.
"Sal, what are you talking about?" he asked.
But Sal couldn't bring himself to say it.
Lester had Changed. Sal could feel it. There was an aura and energy about him that hadn't been there before and it was powerful, but Lester couldn't know all that now, Sal wouldn't just throw him into the Other World literally seconds after he'd been healed. It seemed a bitter cruelty to do so.
"Sal you're scaring me" Lester said.
"I know" Sal replied. He traced a glyph on Lester's cheek with his finger, a snuffed out candle, The Sleeping glyph.
This time the drawing was smooth, and Sal didn't know whether to be happy or horrified. It was just a confirmation that Lester had become part of the Other World.
Sal's world.
Lester's eyelids began to drop but he forced them to stay open, suddenly terrified.
"Sal, everything's getting darker, I don't want to go back into the darkness, I don't want to stay there again"
"Don't worry I'll be right here with you, you will feel me holding you the entire time"
"Promise?" Lester whispered, his eyes drooping to a close.
He never heard Sal reply, because his eyes fluttered shut and his head lolled limp to the side.
Sal smiled and pushed Lester back into his bed, resting his head gently on the pillow, before standing up and pulling the covers higher over Lester's body.
He sighed and turned to grab a chair when he saw Katarina still standing there.
He'd forgotten about her entirely.
She didn't seem to mind though, her eyes were glistening bright as she looked at him. The smile on her lips was gentle, and as if knowing exactly what Sal needed she nodded goodbye and left the room.
He grabbed the chair from Lester's reading desk, and flopped down on it exhausted.
It wasn't until Sal sat down, that he noticed something shining on Lester's wrist like a scar.
Sal peered closely and gently grabbed Lester's hand. Encircled around his wrist like a band were markings in a language Sal had never seen before. It was pure, and exuded nothing but holiness.
He waited for the translation to come to his mind the way it always did when Sal encountered a language he'd never known before, but nothing happened.
Sal dropped Lester's hand gently on the bed as a revelation struck him.
He wasn't the one that had done the healing, and he wasn't the one that had Changed Lester.
Someone else had.
And unlike all the other times when Sal could guess who had done what, he couldn't this time.
This time...
Sal didn't know.
***
Snarls and hisses, hisses and snarls, growls and grunts, grunts and growls, and the occasional roar or cluck or snap of teeth.
These were the sounds that echoed from the Great Pit, where millions of shedim curled around like worms in a bowl. Endless animal noises and sounds of desperate, terrible hunger echoing in the dark depths of the places under the earth. Cries for flesh and blood, for destruction and chaos, for death and suffering.
And Percival had it all under his command.
Lucifer hadn't been lying when he said there was power in the darkness, Percival could feel it in his bones, the eternal, consuming power of darkness and evil and Hell. The dominion over all that was stained and tainted, over everything without purity, over...
"Are you done?"
Percival snapped out of his train of thought and turned to face the man that had spoken, his master, Lucifer.
He was wearing his illusion today, Percival realized, it was his facade of heavenly beauty and divine glory. The illusion was fashioned after the angel he once was, snow white hair, glistening golden eyes, wings that were as graceful as they were powerful, and beauty, beauty so bright no mortal could look on him and not immediately fall to their knees. That was the angel Lucifer had been, the angel, Percival guessed, Lucifer still wanted to be.
But the Father would never allow it.
"You must really be loving the new look" Lucifer said.
Percival looked down at himself and couldn't help the smile that curled on his lips.
"I do" he replied. "I didn't expect so many scales though"
"I don't choose the appearance, the Change reveals what the evil inside you looks like, and my oh my, does it look splendid" Lucifer came to stand beside him, the shedim in the Pit below them began to hiss and snarl louder, showering their master with infernal praises.
"Are you ready to command them, Percival"
"I am ready master"
"Good, release the shedim" Lucifer said with a malevolent smile. He placed a cold hand on Percival's shoulder and bent to whisper in his ear. "And when you're done come to my chambers, there are more changes to be made before you truly become one of Hell"
Percival chuckled and smiled, his blackened heart pounding with anticipation.
"Yes Master"
***
"Are the shackles really necessary?" Marcus asked as he trudged through the snow and ice with his hands clasped behind his back. His feet were shackled too, the soles bare and the cold seeping up through his legs. Despite his natural insulation he was shivering from the harsh wind cutting through the frost covered field.
This is not how he'd pictured his visit to Fey Land.
From the stories Bloom told him he'd imagined lush grass and blossoming flowers and an exotic purple sky, but he was met with a cold white earth and the sky, though purple, seemed frozen as well, like looking at a sunset reflected on the surface of a glacier.
"Sorry Marcus but the rules are rules" Melchior said as he walked side by side with Trystan. "Once we get to the Crystal Palace and we see Bloom I am sure she will have you released."
'I sure hope so' Marcus thought.
Personally he had no idea what Bloom's reaction to his arrival would be. Would she be happy, angry, worried, confused? Would she even react at all?
It may have been a year in the Mortal World but it had been years in Fey Land, Melchior had apparently gotten over his infatuation over Casmir— Marcus knew a broken heart when he saw one and Melchior had been utterly heart broken on their last adventure together— and it could be that whatever he and Bloom had, or whatever he presumed they had, it would have faded away over time, like a mountain exposed to the elements over years.
As soon as the thought entered his head Marcus could think of nothing else the entire trip to the Crystal Palace, he barely noticed his surroundings or the sounds that echoed throughout the Capital. His mind was entirely on Bloom and the possibility that she might not want him here, that she may have never wanted him at all.
"Marcus we are here" Melchior said.
Marcus shook the thoughts out of his head and looked up.
The Crystal Palace rose like a spire of ice before him, magnificent in it's sky piercing beauty. They had passed the gates and where about to climb the glass steps leading up to the door. Marcus hadn't even known when they reached the gates.
"Hey are you okay?" Melchior asked.
Marcus looked at Melchior. There was an intensity to the way he looked at Marcus that made Marcus smile. It was so like Melchior to be kind and caring, even to people he barely knew.
"I'm fine Melchior" Marcus said. "I mean despite the fact that i'm chained and dreadfully cold everything is going great"
Melchior laughed, his eyes and scales glistening.
"If i'm being honest though I'm a bit nervous, it's been so long, maybe much longer for her"
"Do not worry, it will all work out in the end" Melchior said.
"I hope so"
They ascended the steps immediately and without another word to each other, and Marcus's mind was now preoccupied with stilling his racing heart, so he barely noticed the tapestries and the paintings and the ultimate grandness of the Crystal Palace.
"Wait here" Melchior whispered to Marcus as they got to a curtain of snowflakes floating in a doorway. "The Queen must approve of your arrival before you enter the court"
"Queen?"
Melchior only smiled at him and disappeared pass the curtain, leaving Marcus with an oddly straight faced Trystan.
There was a great deal of whispering that followed, then a yelp, and Marcus was sure he'd a heard an unmistakable "What the actual fuck" which he deemed as a bad sign but he found very amusing.
Then slowly the curtain parted and Trystan nudged him forward gently.
The throne room was one of the most magnificent things Marcus had ever seen; the walls were made of ice, as if a waterfall had frozen over, a crystal chandelier refracted colours over the walls and the floor glistened with lights as if they'd trapped an aurora under the crystal surface, and then there was the throne, a chair of ice laced with vines gone white with frost.
And sitting on it was Bloom.
Marcus had expected his beautiful, wild, adventurous wood nymph sitting on the throne without a care in the world and with a cunning smile on her face, wearing mortal clothes, perhaps jeans and a blouse, she preferred them anyways, but what he saw was entirely different. Who he saw was someone he didn't recognize.
Bloom sat with her back straight on the throne stationed with an elf guard on each side, her unaged face set as she looked on them from above. Her vines for hair were tied up in a bun, the crown of frozen vines sitting cleverly atop her head, and the bark brown skin of her face made up with icy blue lipstick and eye shadow. She wore a beautiful long white dress inlaid with diamonds, and her arms covered with shimmering white gloves, her milky green eyes slowly taking Marcus in with a very brief shock, and then masked over with a cold fury.
Marcus was furious too, where was the Bloom he'd fallen for, the Queen of the Wild that had controlled the plants of another world and saved Marcus's life in a heartbeat, where was the Bloom he knew and loved?, and who was the woman that had taken her place?
"Your Majesty" Trystan said with a bow. "We found this kitsune in the Forests, he is from the Mortal World and has confessed to making the breech, he used one of the Hidden Ways"
"I see" Bloom said, her voice plain and hard as she fixed her gaze on Marcus. "And has the issue of the breech been taken care of?"
"The kitsune claims to have sealed it off with an illusion, Commander Melchior already sent some soldiers to confirm if this is true and if it will hold"
"It better, we cannot have any mortals discovering this place by accident, that never ends well"
She sized Marcus up slowly, her eyes looking down on him made Marcus's already racing heart beat faster.
She smirked, as if she could tell her eyes had an irrevocable effect on him and she was enjoying every minute of it.
"What is your name kitsune?" She asked.
Marcus gritted his teeth. If she thought she was being funny she was terribly wrong.
"Stop acting like you don't know it's me Bloom" Marcus said. He could see Melchior standing by Bloom's side and shaking his head violently but Marcus didn't care.
"Do I know you?" Bloom said. "I do not recall meeting any mangy foxes recently, tell me, how did we meet?"
Marcus could feel the heat rising to the surface. Why was she doing this? This wasn't Bloom, what happened?, had the power of Fey Lands crown turned her into this, this unrecognizable person.
Then he remembered what she'd said in a conversation they'd had on a night that felt like a lifetime ago.
'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 and put in place someone I will barely recognize.'
He'd listened to her then and had rejected those thoughts in his heart.
'It won't' he'd answered, and when she'd laughed and questioned him he'd grown angry, because he'd believed so strongly in the person she was on the inside, the person he'd seen her to be.
'In you I see unaltered beauty, incorruptible, all encompassing and eternal'
But now he wasn't sure.
"I'm afraid" Marcus said now. "I cannot recall much, just a very curious wood nymph who could not stop staring at my father's...."
"I think" Melchior chimed in. "You should tell the Queen the reason why you came here in the first place"
Marcus sighed, thank the Moon for Melchior, and opened his mouth to speak.
Then there was a sharp ripping sound.
Everything that happened next was chaos.
Marcus turned and saw a swirling red portal in the middle of the throne room, and out of it came legions of shedim.
Weapons were immediately unsheathed, the sounds of blades slicing against leather and magic whirring at the ready filled the throne room.
Marcus felt Trystan push him to the side just as a sabertooth shedim came lunging at them, fangs and claws at the ready. Trystan threw one of his axes and it plunged into the shedim's chest, black blood spurting against the crystal floor before the shedim crumpled to ash and vanished.
Marcus strained against the chains in his hands but they kept him from Shifting or using his magic. He was utterly defenseless.
Meanwhile Trystan and the elf guards were in a fearsome battle with a mixture of sabertooth, hellhound and scorpion shedim.
Marcus scrambled to his feet and searched the throne room for Bloom and Melchior.
He spotted them a moment later, Melchior with Lamech in his hand crackling with green electricity, and Bloom behind him cursing at her dress and yelling something about her needing to get her whip.
Now that was the Bloom he knew.
"Melchior!" Marcus yelled. Melchior whipped his head to him, golden hair flying. "Get her out of here!"
Melchior nodded, and together he and Bloom descended the steps leading to the throne.
Marcus's vision had been correct, these shedim had come to attack Bloom, therefore she was the main priority, but he couldn't do anything to protect her or defend himself.
A snarl coming from behind him drew his attention and Marcus saw himself face-to-face with a hellhound shedim, fangs and teeth bared, soulless eyes boring into Marcus with the sole purpose of destruction.
"Oh shit"
The hellhound pounced with a snarl.
Marcus braced himself for impact, but it never came. Before he knew what was happening the hellhound was crashing to the floor with two axes in it's belly, smearing a line of black blood on the crystal and turning to ash as it slid to a stop.
The axes flew from the floor and when Marcus traced their origin his eyes landed on Trystan who had a burning shedim in his hand and tossed it to the floor before slicing it's head off with an axe as it flew into his hands. All of it done in one fluid motion.
He came up right and ran to Marcus, shoving an axe in it's sheath and pulling a key out of his pocket.
"Thanks" Marcus said as the chains on his hands and feet fell to the floor with a clang. "For freeing and saving me"
Trystan smiled and Marcus found himself noticing what a bright smile he had.
"You can thank me when we have finished these fuckers off"
Marcus almost allowed himself a smile, then he heard Melchior scream.
He whipped his head to the direction of the sound and saw that Melchior was on the floor and a sabertooth shedim had it's teeth sunk into his thigh, bright red blood poured out of the wound and Bloom lay with a pained look on her face just a distance away.
'Their soul binding'
Marcus looked to Trystan but he'd already bolted to Melchior who had started stabbing the shedim with Lamech. Marcus didn't need anyone to tell him what to do.
He Shifted.
The power took over him instantly, and it was so familiar to him that he'd started running and Shifting at the same time. By the time it was completed Marcus was already sinking his claws into a sabertooth shedim and tossing it across the room, and from then everything was a blur of black blood and the bitter taste of shedim blood in his mouth.
He charged through the throng to Bloom, who he hoped was still alright, biting and clawing and burning through the small army of shedim that had occupied the throne room.
Marcus could smell the scent of spilled Fey blood in the room, and the more he imagined it could be Bloom or Melchior anytime soon the faster he went.
Then he heard another scream, and this time it was the one he dreaded the most to hear.
His sharp vision found it's way to Bloom in an instant. She was backed up against the wall, a large scorpion shedim ready to plunge through her with it's stinger.
Marcus was frozen in shock for a minute and then the stinger struck down.
There was a sickening squelching sound and Marcus's eyes flew wide with terrible shock at what he was seeing.
Trystan stood in front of Bloom, his hands spread wide and his eyes glaring up at the scorpion shedim, it's stinger plunged all the way through his chest. Blood spurted from his lips but his gaze never wavered from the shedim.
Marcus charged the creature just as it gave a loud screech and tossed Trystan to the side, it's gaze focused on Bloom once again as if nothing had just happened.
'I will not let you die' Marcus thought, and as if she could hear it Bloom turned to face him, for the first time her milky green eyes were filled with horror.
Marcus ran as fast as he could and lunged into the air, crashing into the scorpion and releasing a jet of white hot flame over the creature's body.
The shedim squirmed and screeched beneath Marcus's grip, it's stinger flying about as Marcus burned it to ashes with his fire.
"The Nightshade will lose everything" hissed the shedim as it burned below Marcus, the bright blue fire reflecting in it's depthless eyes. "He will lose everything and Mortikhos will make sure of it" It cackled as it turned into ashes.
"ad mercedem incipit" it said, and then it vanished.
Marcus heaved a heavy sigh as the thing crumbled to ash before him. He was utterly horrified from what had just happened, what the shedim had just said.
The Nightshade will lose everything.
The Nightshade was definitely Sal, but who would be out to get him, and who was Mortikhos?
Marcus supposed he could try and figure it out but he realized the throne room was utterly silent, meaning the battle was over.
And then his mind went to the person he'd been thinking about throughout the battle.
'Bloom'
Marcus Shifted and turned to see that Bloom was okay and was leaning wearily against the wall of ice, her breath coming out in short heavy pants.
He went to her immediately, neglecting the fact that he was naked, and held her firmly by the shoulders.
She looked up at him, her skin smeared with black blood, her bun come undone, her crown of icy vines in her hand. And her eyes, vulnerable and scared and relieved and...open.
Marcus found himself cupping her cheek and peering into her eyes, his heart pounding as he gazed down at her.
"Are you alright?" he asked.
She breathed out heavily, her breath on his face warm and smelling faintly of ivy.
"Your voice has gone deeper" she whispered.
Marcus chuckled and she smiled and he pressed their foreheads together and she didn't protest.
Then she gasped and pulled away from him.
Marcus looked at her, his heart already starting to tear with confusion, but her eyes were not on him, they were wide with horror and they were looking behind him.
Marcus dared to turn.
The throne room was a gruesome mess of black, red and green blood, dead bodies and ashes stained the crystal floor, and the smell of death was pungent in the air, but that was not what his mind was on nor was anyone else's who was alive.
All eyes were on Melchior, who knelt in the middle of the throne room with Trystan's head lying on his lap, his body limp with the touch of death. Melchior was just staring at the body, his eyes shining with tears, and then as one dropped from his eyes Bloom gasped behind Marcus, and the sound of her crown shattering against the floor resounded in the cold quiet of the throne room.
Marcus's vision had come to pass.