To Drown In Icy Depths

Caelum's last day

I wake up to tinkling chitter of robins and sparrows outside my window, all of the birds busy with their early morning conversations. When I was a little girl, I used to wonder what they were saying to each other. I was quite whimsical in my youth, rather like Safira.

I pull myself out of the silken sheets of my four poster bed and draw the heavy golden bed-curtains. Stretching my arms, I walk over to my rose wood wardrobe and take out my second mourning gown. It is Aurelian tradition to have a different one for each day after the death of a loved one, each one lighter than the last, as if to symbolize the evaporation of grief and the acceptance of death.

This dress is an ashen grey, fringed with golden thread and with fuller skirts. There are seven mourning dresses, the last a lucent white, the first black, and the ones in between different shades of grey. I will not get to wear the other five, for tomorrow I am exchanging my mourning gown for a wedding dress. The wedding dress that is hanging in my wardrobe, like one of the demons I used to be afraid hid in my closet. Lurking ominously.

I finish dressing myself and comb through my hair before braiding it down my back. I tie the plait with a grey ribbon that matches my dress and slip into my worn, black boots.

Today is my last day with Caelum. A ray of sunshine in the dark storm that has become my life.

I smile despite myself as I fasten the opal locket full of vow dust around my neck and make my way into the gardens. Caelum is where he always is, at the stables grooming a horse I recognise as my father's. His face lights up when he sees me and he breaks into a wide grin.

I feel my face mirroring his as I walk up to him.

I barely have time to greet him before I'm swept up in his arms and twirled around, the action making us both rather dizzy and causing us to laugh. He sets me down and smiles warmly.

"So," I say as we start along our favourite path, "Have you by any chance prepared anything for today?"

His eyes twinkle mischievously, reminding me of a dream I ihad last night but can't quite remember.

"Me?" he asks, "Prepare something? Of course not."

I raise a suspicious eyebrow.

"Oh, alright," he says, giving in, "We're going to have a picnic in the forest, near the edge of the House's gardens."

I smile.

"That sounds wonderful," I tell him.

He returns the smile as we walk along, side by side. We chatter about memories and stories we've heard, rather like the talkative birds in the trees above us, avoiding the subject of my looming marriage, death and everlasting vow. Which is fine by me, I need to clear my mind. I need to think of something other than Eveleen and Lord Merikh and the Abluvion stone.

His hand knocks into mine as we stroll through the forest, causing me breath to hitch in my throat. This happens several times before he finally takes my hand in his, nearly giving me a heart attack, and sends me a smile.

For such a calm walk I'm feeling awfully stressed.

My heart begins to speed up a little, sometimes missing a couple of beats, fluctuating and fluttering like a little butterfly fairy.

I'm barely listening to out conversation now, both his words and mine, all I can hear is the beating of my heart in my ears.

Run away, it tells me, run away run away run away.

No. I have to be brave, this is the last day I'll ever see him, I don't want to ruin it with my cowardice.

We carry on until we reach a small clearing in the thicket. In the middle of the clearing is a buttercup yellow picnic blanket, and a basket which even from far away smells good. And all around the blanket, wild flowers and tall, majestic trees. Glittering, golden rays of sunshine sparkle on the dewy grass.

It's perfect.

Today will be a good last day that I can remember forever. It will be one of my favourite memories, that I put in a little box in my head. And in the three months before I die, I will open that box and look tenderly at the beautiful memory I've put there.

Yes, that's what I'll do.