Written in the Stars

Chapter Twenty Eight

"These violent delights have violent ends

And in their triumph die" II, VI (Romeo and Juliet)

And so it seems, that like her beginnings, her endings are to be written in the blood of others. This was not by anyone's fault and yet she could not help but blame herself.

Celeste saw her future slipping from her grasp. She saw all of the mistakes she had ever made and yet she had no regrets. She knew that this was the card she had been handed and she had done her best to make it work for her. She had always known, even from a young age, that her life would be filled with death and pain and sadness, she just hadn't expected such a large canvas of time for it to cover. She had not expected 700 odd years for that pain and death to fill.

All of her life had been leading to this moment. With these people. She could feel it in her bones that this was the end that is meant for her. There was no other end written in the stars for her. This was justice. Not only in the eyes of those she had once called family, but also by the heavens. Fate had laid her path and she had walked it to its end. She had accepted her fate.

All those years of death and torture and she was getting a merciful ending. It was more than she deserved. And she knew it.

Distantly, as if in a distant room, she could hear her sister sobbing. She looked into her eyes and realised that she was blurry. Perhaps because Celeste herself had tears filling her eyes and running down her face. She knew that she was not making this any easier on any of them but she could not control the flood. She had not realised that her tears had not stopped flowing since she had stopped Izabela's life.

She could not look at Jean. Her heart was already breaking and she could not stand the pain of it shattering. She knew she was about to die but if she could avoid that most terrible pain then perhaps her death would be more bearable. Jean was the first person she had truly trusted after what had happened. After Izabela. He was the first person that she had been able to go to when she was not herself and he wouldn't judge her. He was everything she had needed to heal and she had almost killed him. She had torn herself apart ever since that moment of betrayal. And yet she knew it was not enough. She knew that she deserved what was about to happen. She just couldn't believe that she had been such an idiot to think that she could make things better when she could only make things worse. Healing was not in her nature. It was in Astrids and she should have listened to her little sister.

Instead she had been stubborn and this was where it had taken them. Alaric was back and everything was ruined. And she only had herself to blame.

Celeste had never felt more vulnerable in her life. She was bound, on her knees, on the cold concrete of their basement. In the house she had built with her sister and Jean. The house that had held some of the happiest moments of her life. It was almost fitting that she should die where she had been happiest. As a reminder of what she had destroyed. Perhaps this ending would repay all of her sins and every mistake she had made in her life, but she somehow doubted it. There were just too many of them.

She knew her time was near when Alaric stepped forward. She had still not looked at Jean. She just couldn't. She knew how much she had hurt him and to see how he did not care now was a fate worse than death.

Celeste did not know how she was going to die, but she did know it would be final. There would be no way to bring her back from this death, not like she had been brought back from death by her mother and sister.

"It's time." These were to be the last words she heard on this earth. It pained her to know she would never hear the voice of her sister again, or the voice of Jean, the man she had loved until the last, even though he had not loved her in return.

Celeste had never known true love until Jean and she would never know it again. She did not deserve to.

She looked up as Jean led Astrid out. Astrid sent one last, tear filled look back at her, but Jean did not even give her a glance. He did not give her anything and she knew she deserved it. That knowledge did not make it hurt any less.

And so it was just her and Alaric left in this basement. She had always known it would come down to the two of them. She had thought it would be in hand to hand combat and that she would not be on her knees the entire time.

Celeste did not even begin to beg for mercy. She knew her killer would not give her any and she did not want her sister to have to hear her pleading. She wanted to make this as easy on them all as possible. She would not have to live with the consequences after all.

Alaric came to stand in front of her. She gazed up at him and looked into his eyes. The eyes she had known briefly for a century and had come back to finish what she started. Perhaps when she had done what she had to him all those years ago she had unknowingly sealed her fate. She had ensured he would be the one to finally take her off of this earth. But perhaps it had just been a folly of a youth she had never escaped that she was now grateful for. She would never know. She was just glad she was dying by his hand and no other.

He gently reached down to cradle her head in his hands, moving her hair out of the way, and they stared deep into each others eyes. She closed her eyes in assent. She knew that it was time and she had forgiven him for this act. She knew it was necessary. He tightened his grip and with a breath he twisted. He broke her neck clean in one move and she did not feel it. He had not meant to be so merciful, but something in her eyes at the last moment had told him all he needed to know. He removed her head and set it gently to one side. He had completed what he had needed to. He felt a lightness that he had not felt in centuries and yet also the deepest darkness had found its way into his soul.

Nothing would be the same again.