Divided

Remembering

:D

Celeste's POV

"We are gathered here today to celebrate our dear friend, Ajia," I say, my voice steady though my heart aches beneath the weight of the moment. A sea of supernaturals stands before me—werewolves, witches, vampires—all gathered in reverent silence. As queen, they look to me not just for words, but for strength.

"She was a light in every shadow," I continue, my gaze sweeping across the solemn faces. "Bright, spirited, and endlessly kind—Ajia had a way of making everyone feel seen, like they mattered." I pause as memories of her laughter echo faintly in my mind.

The air feels heavy with magic and mourning, yet there's a certain warmth in the bond we all share—because we love her.

-Celeste's Memory

The red light of the portal faded behind her as she stepped into the forest. Alistair and Xander followed closely, their footsteps soft but heavy with unspoken grief.

Celeste moved forward slowly, and then she saw them—Tzan, kneeling in the snowy ground, holding a familiar figure in his arms.

Ajia.

Celeste's breath caught. Her heart twisted. As she stepped closer, Ajia's face became clear—pale, unmoving.

Caterina stood, silent and shaken, rising from where she had been beside them. She gave Celeste space, her expression unreadable as she backed away.

Celeste dropped to her knees, her fingers brushing gently over Ajia's hand. It was cold. Too cold. Her eyes filled with tears, but she didn't let them fall. She couldn't.

She hadn't allowed herself to feel—not fully. Not yet. Because if she did... something inside her might break. Something the realm couldn't afford to shatter. Her connection to this world ran too deep, threaded into its very magic.

She placed a hand on Tzan's shoulder. He didn't look up, his gaze fixed on his sister. But she felt it—the quiet shift in his breathing, the slight ease in his shoulders. A silent acknowledgment of her presence. Of her strength.

-Currently

"As you all know, Ajia grew up with Alistair and me," I begin, my voice steady, though my heart feels anything but. "She wasn't just a child we took in."

A memory presses into my mind, soft and vivid.

She had come running—bare feet barely touching the grass, eyes glowing with excitement. Her hands were behind her back, hiding something.
"I made you something!" she beamed. "But you have to close your eyes."

I had laughed then, doing as she asked. I felt her small fingers take mine, gently opening my palm.
"Okay—open them!"

I looked down. A beaded bracelet sat in my hand—colorful, uneven, full of joy. She had made it for me with so much love. I hadn't taken it off since.

Now, standing before our people, I glance down. The bracelet is still wrapped around my wrist, a little faded, a little frayed—but it's still here. She's still here.

"S-she..." My voice falters. I grip Alistair's hand, grounding myself in the familiar warmth. He gives a small squeeze—steady, unwavering.

"She was like a daughter to us," I say, voice thick but firm. "And she always will be."

Third POV

Tzan stands silently beside the royal couple, his eyes fixed on the ground. He can't bring himself to look up—not yet. Not when his sister's loss is still so raw.