Her Emerald Eyes - Mahoutsukai no Yome (Short Story)

Cold

From the day he brought her lifeless body home, he stayed with her for days. He had delayed the decomposition of the body; he wanted to preserve her forever. Magic does wonders, but it couldn't bring back Chise's soul.

He didn't bother to change his blood-soaked clothes, he didn't even discard his tattered robe; he wrapped it around them both while he held her in a tight embrace as he lay on his side. It was freezing cold. He didn't move, didn't eat or drink.

He lost his usual form at one point, and he stayed curled around her as his monstrous horned serpent self.

At times he barely slept, even when he never left the bed. At times, he fell into a deep slumber, where nightmares tortured him for nights on end.

He didn't care when others barged into his house, his room. He was deaf when Simon talked to him, he was deaf when Renfred and Angelica screamed at him. He didn't budge when Merituuli visited with Lindel's mirror. He only held Chise tighter when anyone tried to pry them apart. There were others, but he didn't bother to acknowledge who they were. It would've been better to declare him dead.

Downstairs, Silky was no better. The silver one sat motionless in the living room as she grieved. If she wasn't doing that, then she was overworking herself, cleaning every speck of dust and pulling out every blade of grass that stood too tall. Alas, there weren't enough chores to keep her distracted.

It was the King and Queen of the Children of the Night who managed to mobilise him.

Titania and Oberon came to him one night after many, as they took their own time to despair over the loss of a child—the Sleigh Beggy they had come to care for, the fae's beloved Robin. But they had the same love for the child of Thorns, and they pitied him.

"Thorn," Titania coaxed. "You must let her go. Her body must return to the Earth, so that her soul may move on in peace. She was loved by the fae and the creatures of the night. We have blessed her. Should her soul be willing, it may find its way home."

For once, Oberon cast his mischievous demeanour aside. "But the blessing is a curse in disguise, for if the soul decides to return, it will be forever bound to you, and so will you be forever bound to her."

Elias' red orbs glowed dimly in the gloom. "What would she choose?" His voice was raspy and his throat hurt as he spoke for the first time in what must have been weeks.

"Only the soul knows." Oberon sighed.

"Return her to the Earth, Thorn." Titania smiled. "Whatever she may choose, my child, it seems you have already bound yourself to her." And with that, the King and Queen of fae was escorted into the woods.

Elias spent the rest of the night deciding on his choice. If he buried her, he may never gaze upon her again. They had pictures together, but he could never again hold her in his arms. A mage's memory lasts as long as his life, but would time be so cruel as to erase from his mind her voice, her scent and the sensation of her touch? Would she find her way to him before time erodes all their pictures into dust, would he forget her face then, and the memories they shared?

Would she even return? To a monster who failed to protect her?

Dawn came, and he kissed her face so serene. He pulled the covers over her chest, as if tucking her to bed. It took him a great deal to revert back to his preferred bipedal form; his head swam when he did. He finally managed to release his embrace. His muscles had forgotten how to work, his knees buckled before his legs remembered how to walk. Eventually he made his way to the garden. It was a painfully slow process.

Silky had tended the garden well. The poppies bloomed, its bright colours a sore sight to his eyes. He dug her grave right next to them. He did it with a shovel; his mind was too clouded by grief for him to summon magic. His arms ached from the labour, where once he picked up Chise as if she weighed nothing.

It was after noon when he carried her out into the garden. She was heavy in his arms, but his heart was heavier. He looked at her for a good long moment, taking in every detail for one last time and etching it into memory. With tears he lowered her down into the grave. He marked her resting place with her wand; the vibrant rose-gold now replaced by a bleak grey, its colour faded with her passing.

Then for days he stood before her grave, despair weighing his broad shoulders into a hunch. He said her name in his head over and over, for he had lost his voice. He never left even when the sun scorched the Earth, even when a storm threatened to uproot trees and when his rain-soaked clothes clung to him heavily. No matter the weather, he shivered constantly from the  cold of loneliness. Everyday, tears burned his eyes, and he never had the strength to hold them back. The pain never went away. He stayed with her until his body began to give.

It was a chilly evening, and he was crying. The pain in his chest sparked and he went into a coughing fit. He gripped his chest tight with one gloved hand, and the other, already stained red from that day, came off wet from his mouth with fresh blood. Then the pain erupted and he fell to his knees, his body spasmed and he threw up heavefuls of blood.

He collapsed onto his side; his left antler snapped as he landed. Chise won't offer her lap for him to lay his head down again, he realised.

He began losing sense of reality. He vaguely registered roots sprouting from the ground where he lay, entwining around his body. He didn't protest when the roots began to drag him under as nature claimed him.

The pain could finally be over, he thought.

"Thorn, what are you doing?" Ariel demanded. The little fairie hovered above him. "Have you forgotten what Chise said to you?" When Elias didn't respond, Ariel sighed. "But then again, you didn't promise her."

He could almost hear her voice.

"Live for me."

Those were her last words for him.