Blood Ties

Chapter 25

The world around her is dark and desolate, the only bits of light being pricks of blue above her. She fights to fall, to lay among the wreckage forever and let herself drown. Down there, she sees lights, and she longs to touch light once again. She drifts along, wishing idly for the drop and light, but finds herself unable to reach the bottom.

Until she realizes that she is stopping herself.

With this realization comes ecstasy, and she releases her hold upon her mind, her desperate clawing for sanity and understanding, and allows herself to fall. She feels free and whole and perfect, and the fall is delightful. She falls for what seems like forever, until at last she reaches the bottom, her illusory body smacking against the nonexistent end.

She lays there in pure joy for a while, embracing the lights around her, until she spots one with a brighter glow than the others. Standing, she floats towards it, her hand outstretched.

Somehow, the light is so fixed within the rest of the lights that she knows if she were to grab this one, the rest would follow. But, somehow, she doesn't care. Grasping the brilliant light between both hands, she gives it a hard yank, peace and warmth filling her heart and soul.

For a moment, she stands in perfection and bliss, harmony surrounding her so fully that she begins to awaken.

The moment ends. The lights become fragments of stone and glass, and they rush upwards in chaos, all at once. The light in her hand attempts to do the same, but she holds in fast. Soon, it begins to pull her up as well.

No.

She jerks away from it, letting it fly up and join the other lights, but she doesn't want to go. The stones and glass scratch and cut her, and she screams, her entire mind and physical body vibrating beneath the sound.

She is exhausted beyond bearing, and the stones tear at her; so she lets go, permitting the lights to lift her upwards with everything else. She is going too fast, but she doesn't care anymore, doesn't care if she is smashed to pieces at the top.

Is there a top?

Can there be?

She wonders, but she does not have to wait long, as she hits the zenith within seconds.

                             ****

"This is my fault." Marco buried his face in his hands, hiding his tired eyes and guilty countenance. Star lay in the bed before him, her face ghastly pale and her body still besides the occasional twitch and the rising and falling of her chest. Without the twitch and breathing, he would have thought her dead.

Aila's bloodshot eyes fell on the top of his head, and she smiled gently, her hand running through his hair. "No, Marco. It's not. You know Star would hate if you blamed yourself."

The only reply she received was a sigh, so she bent and pressed a kiss to his brow with motherly care. "Would you like me to send a servant with something to eat? You haven't eaten since you returned."

He gave a nearly imperceptible shake of his head, refusing to raise his gaze, and she nodded. Casting one last look at her daughter, she bit her lip and hurried from the room.

Only when he was alone did Marco raise his head, remorse tearing at his heart ruthlessly. Star's expression was startlingly blank, as though she had no mind whatsoever –just as it had been when she underwent the reprimere spell. Smiling bitterly, he brushed a stray curl from her thin, plain face.

"I guess it was bound to happen," he muttered, his hand resting on her curls gently. "It's a talent of mine. If I love someone, I'm going to watch them die, and realize it's my fault." He paused, considering, and then continued, "You're the last one. And you're fading away, right in front of me."