Light of Stars [2]

Chapter Eight

♕ Flash of Lightning ♕

There had been screaming echoing through the halls of the castle, making their way into every room of Blackstone for hours on end. Sharp pitched, rumbling through his ears screaming.

He'd closed his eyes, turned to the side. Tried to keep his eyes lost in the darkness, trying to make the noise fade into the background. Tried not to feel the pit of guilt settling in the bottom of his stomach. But it clung to his gut with claws sharper than any others.

She would kill Skylar.

That was his only thought. The one thing he was certain off.

She would kill Skylar.

And it would be his fault for not speaking up, for settling into the background, for walking away instead of fighting, even if it was for one last time.

She would kill Skylar.

He was prepared for death. Had been at least. Two months ago, he'd seen the world burn to ashes and had been willing to burn along with it. Would have shamed anyone who in his shoes wouldn't have done the same. And yet here he was, hearing as another suffered. Hearing their misery. Knowing... he could help. Even if the cost was worse than death. Even if it meant throwing his soul away. Yet choosing to not move, choosing to remain frozen made his soul fade away as well, fade and rot and darken.

This he could control. This he had a say over.

The face of his mother flashed in his eyes, he wanted to remember it, in case he were to meet her again. He did not want to be unable to recognize her.

His steps guided him to the door. A small wooden door they thought would keep him from running. One he'd led them to believe he was too weak to break. One that was usually heavily guarded. Except tonight. She had locked them all outside.

Asher grabbed onto the knob, watching it slightly move. It was weaker than he thought. Taking a few steps back he ran kicking it with the strength he had left. The knob fell to the floor. Its rattle barely making any sound.

The door opened. The hall empty.

He stared at the darkness, smoothly inviting him inside.

A breath was all it took for him to lean forward and become a shadow. Mixing in with the darkest corners, holding his breathing down until he became a statue himself.

Night was coming to an end soon.

The crownless king sneaked past the walls of deep ruby blood and midnight darkness. Like a shadow himself, a shadow without a soul, not one that was complete or whole, he melted in with it all, as if it the walls spoke to him, answered to his blood. Even empty.

One

Two

Three

He counted in his mind as slowly as he could, tracing his exact pathway, so that he would make no mistakes. He didn't dare glance back, didn't dare breathe too loudly. He wondered how it had felt like, when she'd done the same thing under the city of sun. He wondered if Bree too had felt her heart beating in her chest and worried it might fail her. He wondered if unlike him she had bother to considered the possibility that she might get caught, what she would do to get out of it. But thoughts of past ghosts only distracted him from his task. So he pushed her to a safe behind his mind, where he'd had her locked away from him, for months now. Locked away until her voice felt like a creation of his imagination and not one of a real person, whom he had touched, laughed, danced with.