Darling Unload Me

Chapter 3

Erya had never tasted such fantastic bread. It was the first thing she'd eaten since her resurrection and it was everything she had never remembered it to taste. It was fluffy and  warm from the oven. Some were oozing with cheese which Rew grabbed eagerly.
"These are my favorite. Saron used to make them all the time when I was little." She sighed, petting the bread like it was an old pet she used to play with.
"Who's Saron?" Erya asked, sitting on a sack of potatoes in the kitchen. The kitchen was a vast thing full of jewels and stones painted in silver and sky blue. Swirls of silver lined the tiles beneath her clothed feet and would sparkle at different angles in the room. It reminded her of water.
She picked up her head to watch the pretty princess then, biting at the cheese that had oozed out. She looked terribly like a child in that moment and it made Erya feel warm inside, like a long forgotten childhood memory.
"My cousin. He's an old sore now that he's been promoted to Head of Court." She said.
"Head of Court?"
It took a minute for Rew to notice it was a question, biting luxuriously into the bread, sighing as she chewed.
"Like a leader of sorts for balls and parties or any event the Kingdom desires."
"Does he like it?" She swallowed before she answered.
"He loves it. Takes pride in it. I suppose it's better than most jobs nowadays." She watched her pick at the bread, her expression far away.
"Do you not like your job?"
"I like it. It's just not what I thought it was going to be. When I was a child, bringing life back to the dead was a beautiful idea. I liked giving back to people what was taken from them. I liked giving people a second chance."
A memory came in like a fog. She saw a pair of hands holding an orb of light blue fire. The Fire of Resurrection. It glided over in her head, lighting up every nerve in her body and brain. She couldn't remember much but she knew that Revivers were made to resurrect the dead, known to not only wield great strength but mental control of the dead. They were worshipped and praised for only they could bring back people who were loved.
"So what's the bad part about it?"
" There's a cost to bringing life. Give and take. Death does not like to give it's dead without a price. There are...consequences."
A silence fell between them. Erya could not deny no longer. She was definitely her Reviver, the line that linked them evidently clear. What a burden it must be to have to constantly drag your deadling around and adjust to life again. She blinked away the rising tears, hanging her head.
" You regret resurrecting me."
A hand shot out fast and deliberate yet gentle. The fingers on them, gentle and strong had lifted her chin. Her eyes aligned with blue fire.
"Never," she said, her pink tinted lips parting slightly to reveal gleaming white teeth. "Never say that again."
Erya was standing now. She was an inch taller than her but could feel the vigor in her voice. Her breath stuck to her throat as she beheld the Reviver, the princess, the-
They sprang apart as a bustle of iron and metal marched into the kitchen. Guards. Two of them.
"Your Highness." Both knelt and clutched at their chest.
"Pardon, but the King requires your company."
"Ofcourse." She smiles now, all expression of what had transpired gone. "My brother must have upset him again. Very well." She turns her head and Erya catches a glimpse of amusement on her face. "See that my Revived gets everything she needs for the night," she adjusts her hair. "We're having a ball tonight."