The Journey to My Heart [Updates Every Thursday!!]

Prologue ~Axil

Part One

Hiraeth

(A homesickness for a home to which you cannot return, a home which maybe never was; the nostalgia, the yearning, the grief for the lost place of your past.)

"I will put my Spirit in you and you will live" - Ezekiel 37:14

Axil

 You were my beginning and my end. But, it was never supposed to end this way. 

"There's no other way."

"There's always another way. I thought you Fae specialized in finding loopholes," I bite at Tyrian letting my rage consume me. This isn't the way... it can't be...

"I can't change destiny," he says and there is nothing but truth in his voice. "I'm sorry to have to be the one to tell you this."

"You can't expect that I will allow that."

"It has nothing to do with allowing. It's between life and death. You have no choice."

And that's when I knew he was right. I don't have a choice. I never did, but even still... "There's always a choice."

"And what's the alternative?" Tyrian asks.

"I don't know if I can do that to her."

"You must."

I did.

I did it to her. I brought her to Death, hoping... praying to anyone who might listen that this... this act of betrayal could free her.

It's been three days. Three days of absolute silence. I've locked myself in my chamber. I can't allow myself to eat. The thought of food... nourishment makes me want to tear my flesh. The thought of sleep and rest while Zaria fights for her life makes me throw up.

I can't shake the look of Zaria's face out of my mind. The moment I committed the worst possible sin against her. How? How could I ever do that to her?

That's what frightens me most. The fact that I was able to do it. I didn't think I could. But I did it for a good cause... right? As Tyrian said... it was the only way to free her of the slave mark that would have slowly poisoned her anyway. I was such a fool to believe the lie of the fake slave marks that plagued my family and me. They were nothing but a spell to scare us.

And Mr. Griffin... He really did that? How could he do that? He poisoned Zaria. He branded that slave mark on her.

I've never seen a person so sick. Zaria's skin had always been pale, but the dull white of her skin as she kept fighting against Eden is something I've only seen with dying soldiers in battle.

But isn't that exactlly what she was? A dying soldier?

It was the only way.

I can tell myself that over and over, but no matter how many times I think it, it would take a miracle for me to believe it.

She asked, why.

Why?

She didn't scream or shout in pain. She didn't shed a tear or whimper in depression. In truth, she didn't have time for any of it and I made sure of that. If killing her was the only way to keep her alive, I wanted it to be as pain-free as possible. 

Maybe it's a selfish thought, but by the look in her eyes, it seemed the knowledge of what I had done to betray her shocked her more than the icy dagger in her back.

It was Lucy's dagger. Well... not entirely. She had journeyed with Zaria to the Spring Equinox Festival to find a cure for what we thought were real slave marks. She got it at Crow's Point, a booth filled with Fae trinkets. Magic infused... anything. It was here that Lucy purchased a sapphire dagger, following instruction from Tyrian, a future-seeing Fae. And it was in the same shop that Zaria bought a cape enchanted with the power of frost.

I remember the chaos. Everyone was waiting outside her room just out of sight of Zaria. She was the only one who hadn't a clue what was about to happen. I remember the second Zaria's eyes closed to this world and Tyrian handed me that very frost cape. Just like everything else, it was the only thing to keep her alive.

She looked too frail... too delicate that moment when I carried her to the Twilight Zone. Fragile is not a word I'd ever dreamed of associating Zaria with. No. She was fearless, resilient, courageous, daring... but seeing her like that... made me question if I was too late.

Crista met me at the Twilight Zone for easy transport, the room acting as a bridge between our world and the Crystal Cave. She had asked me if I wanted to come along into the cave. I'd never been inside the Crystal Cave, nonetheless, the Twilight Zone for more than a few quick moments. Memories of the first time Zaria showed me this room plagued my mind. I remember not being able to see anything in front of me, but I could hear crystal clear the joy and excitement in her voice.

I wanted to keep it special for her. Zaria had never had anything of her own. Nothing was ever just hers, and I wanted it to stay hers, so I never followed her in.

But this time I go.

I hold Zaria close in my arms as Crista grabs my shoulders and pulls me into the water with her.

It was an experience I would never want to get used to. The feeling of falling and floating all at the same time. Though I've always been surrounded by magic I've had a hesitation regarding it. Magic isn't something I can measure or rely on. It's something that requires full faith and in that moment I had none, but I had to hold on... for her.

I opened my eyes when it was all over and Crista and I stepped into a palace of ice. I looked above me and the cave seemed to have no end. I assume that all the ice and snow in here was once crystals, rocks and shells of all colors and now it's lost all color. Is it awful for me to say that the cave looks gorgeous even though it's dying? I looked down at Zaria held in my arms. Even on the verge of death, she's the most beautiful girl I have ever seen.

Crista puffed up some snow, making a soft, cold bed as I said goodbye to Zaria. Is this really going to work?

"They'll revive each other," Tyrian told me, but now that I'm here, I question it.

I remember thinking, I couldn't just leave her there. I couldn't. I wouldn't I-

"Axil," Crista called to me sounding like an angel. "It's time."

I remember every moment when I laid her down and wrapped her cape even tighter around her tiny body. She won't freeze. That's what the cape is for. Right, I tell myself. She won't freeze. She won't die. You didn't kill her.

As I took a step back she looked like she belonged in the snow and I tried to take that as a sign of fate.

I laid my hand over her heart and felt the ghost beat of her heart. Tyrian said this would happen. He described them as chords. Like, would call to like.

I killed her, but she's not dead. Magic takes longer to die.

And with the little bit of magic left in the cave and the little bit left in Zaria, we're all praying that their notes will become one chord.

"Come on," Crista whispered, her voice cracking. Rubbing my back, she said it again. "Come on."

And I left her in the hands of magic because after what I did, it's the only thing I could do to save her.

She will be saved.

It just... wasn't supposed to be like this.