The End of Eden

XVIII

Eventually, Four helps me up from the ground, and we walk in the early morning light that's barely bright enough to show the way back to the center of Eden. My head pounds, but I can't help but turn to look at Four every chance I get. His long eyelashes fan over his cheeks as he looks down on the ground as we walk over the rough terrain, but his lovely ocean blue eyes connect with mine on occasion.

"What's wrong, little bird?" he asks one time, his fingers squeezed between mine.

"Will I get to see your face after we do... this?" I don't call it by its name; marriage, union, whatever it is. There's a part of me that desperately wants to know what he looks like under his mask, under all their masks... but there's a louder part of me that doesn't mind not knowing, because it doesn't matter what is under the mask now.

What matters is who they are beyond the mask.

"Perhaps," Four replies. "I actually... I actually don't know what it will be like."

It's the first time he has shown any sort of uncertainty since I have been here, and it causes me to pause behind him, making him stop short. He turns around to face me, his eyes soft in the morning light.

"I would do it for you," I whisper, and he slowly steps up to me. His hands raise up and his thumbs smooth over my lips, his fingers curving around my jaw. My own hands raise up, and slide under his mask, stopping just so only his lips show, nothing more.

I adore the trust he has in me, and I rise up on my toes to press my lips against his, my hands dropping to grasp his wrists, his hands still cupping my face. His mouth is sweet, the kiss tender and... and loving, even as he parts my lips with his tongue and slips it into my mouth. It makes me weak kneed, and if we weren't holding onto each other, we surely would have floated away.

After we start our walk back, and after Four fixes his mask, I swear I see Sleep off in the distance, his hulking form radiating pride in me... and his own form of love for me, and his vessels.

"Will there be a ceremony?" I ask, climbing up the last hill to where my room is.

"A ritual, yes," Four corrects.

"And after?"

He hums in thought. "Probably a feast, and surely Serra will bake a cake."

I nod my head thinking, and I glance sidelong at him.  "And... after that?"

He meets my eyes, but this time, he does not answer. I can already feel my stomach clenching and flipping with nerves. He knows what I mean; and I am not sure why he doesn't answer. Maybe because he doesn't have the words, or maybe because he knows I already know.

He leaves me at the door to my room with a kiss on my hand, the unanswered question hanging between us.

I fall into rest on my bed, but it is heavy and dreamless, and I startle awake at a knock on my door. I abandon my bed, and run to my door, swinging it open to find Serra, a massive swath of white material tossed over her arm.

"Serra, hi, come in," I say, opening the door wide for her to walk in.

"I'm so sorry to have disturbed you, I just needed you to try something on," she says, closing the door behind her. I nod, unsure of what exactly she has. I watch as she pulls the crocheted item from her arm and it unfurls to the ground.

"Is that..." I can't finish the sentence, because nerves are wracking my body so hard, I feel as if I might vomit, or pass out, or both.

It was a dress. A white dress.

A wedding dress.

The skirt itself was a lovely, with a scalloped pattern from the hem of the skirt, all the way up to the wide, elbow length sleeves. I don't hesitate to remove the clothes I have on, all of them piling onto the floor, including my bra, but I am no longer ashamed of what I look like. She lifts the material over my head, and the dress slides down my body, already fitting perfectly. I don't even have to worry about any pools of stitches at my feet to lift up, because the hem brushes lightly against my bare feet as I speed walk to the bathroom.

I am floored with how it looks on me, how well it clings to my body around my hips, but looser around my waist and chest, and how the sleeves billow out, and the skirt falling loosely away from my legs with enough left over for a small train. The front has a V cut, but it stops just between my breasts, though the swell of each one can be seen. I turn around and see the back, a wide, deep V as well, exposing my skin from my neck all the way down to my waist, even past the edge of my panties.

"How did you know to make this?" I ask, stunned, my eyes locking on hers in the mirror, my fingers running along the scalloped edge that runs along my breasts.

"When I first started to receive visions of Sleep, this was one of the things he showed me," she says quietly. I'm back to staring at the dress on me, and for once in my life, I love myself, and the woman I have become. "I started it when you came to Eden, and once I had measurements from you, I finely tuned it to your body."

I turn to her, and I feel like I could cry from sheer excitement. "Serra, this is perfect... this is lovely."

"Sleep decided it for his bride," she whispers reverently. I meet her eyes again in the mirror, my chin tucked. "It was an honor to create it."

"What is expected of me?" I ask quietly, my heart hammering in my chest again, making me feel sick again.

She reached a hand out towards me and stroked a comforting line along the bare skin of my back. "What is expected of any bride."

I swallow hard, and nod, my movements jerky. I suppose I can do it. Vessel said there was no other choice, and I believe him. Sleep brought me here for a reason, and I believe that he will give me strength.

I slide the dress from my body, and when I go to hand it back to Serra, she refuses. "It is done. You keep it here."

I redress as she leaves, and I hang the crocheted dress up in my small closet, and stare at it. I will do it, and I will go to it gladly, with happiness in my heart. I will do it, not only because there is no other way, but because I want to be with them. Sleep has chosen me as his bride, not Serra, not Annabelle, not any other women in Eden.

Me.

I leave my room a few minutes later and make my way to the sanctum, and let myself in through the hall that I know is connected to the inner sanctum, where I know Vessel is. I knock on the door and wait, but it doesn't take long for him to answer the door. It swings open on silent hinges, and I see his mask.

"My love," he says, standing aside to let me in. I step only into the doorway.

"Vessel," I say, "I am only here to formally accept your proposal. I accept becoming Sleep's bride via his vessels."

I can see his lips turn up into a smile. "I knew you would, because it is an honor that no one would turn down."

"Yes," I agree, "But he chose me out of everyone. His vessels chose me because of it."

"That we did."

I turn to leave, but I pause, because I am missing one valuable bit of information. I turn back around to face Vessel, looking up at him.

"When?"

"The ritual will commence on Friday. Three days' time."