"Meet me here, on the dark side of the moon."
His voice broke into her cavernous mind, intrusive; like a claw sheathed in velvet, caressing her thoughts. He knew everything. He knew it all. He knew that she betrayed him. Turned him in, to protest herself, her family. And in knowing that, he was also aware that she yearned to be next to him, knew that she dreamt of his hands tangled in her hair. And yet.
She glanced at her gilded watch, its glassy face glinting in the torchlight. The hands hadn't ticked since their last meeting, since...he was taken. Since she saw his face, that handsome face, screwed up in agony—not only physical pain as they dragged him away, but at her communicated guilt. He felt her pain as his own, just as she felt the numbing poison coating his veins. They were connected, after all. They were mates. She felt what he felt—knew what she knew.
"...where time stands still."
His soft smile ghosted through her mind. She struggled to push the bond to the back of her mind, gasped as she surfaced from his consciousness. He was in a cave, deep in the mountains, the highest peak on the continent. That was where they kept the most dangerous—a place where the Seraphim couldn't escape. Go away, she shouted through the bond. Leave me alone. A quiet chuckle was his only reply, not unkind. Gentle. Silken. A lovers touch. You thought the priests severed our bond, didn't you? he asked. She stayed stubbornly quiet.
There was a lapse of silence where she could just hear their breathing, hearts beating half a world away. You said you would love me always, he said. Did that change, now that you know? Know that I'm nothing more than a winged beast?
Silence emanated from her end. Finally, she broke, replying, What did you expect me to do? They would have killed me—killed Vari—if they found out I had fallen for a...the word lodged. A Seraphim.
You may have fallen for one—for me. But what they don't understand is that that Seraphim caught you when you fell. Hot, angry tears lodged in her throat as he continued, Raised you up. Cared for you. His mental voice hitched. Loved you. Her frame crumpled against her bedpost, candlelight dancing along the planes of her face.
Do they know, he said, his pitch rising with intensity. She shivered as she felt his weak, broken wings dragging along rock as he began to pace, words skipping across stone. The secrets we shared in the dark? The truth that I lay bare to you? Those priests, he spit, don't understand a thing.
We'll confess our sins to the darkness...
She shivered as if she were in that cave, a tough wind whipping around the peak. Her hands drifted closer to a fireplace. "Those priests," she said aloud, even though no one was physically there to hear it. "provide clarity. They understand that the mating bond is a curse between those who are Cleaved; a human isn't allowed to love someone like...you."
...and laugh when it forgives our madness.
The lullaby resonated through her skull, and she knew he had planted the tune in the folds of her mind when he said, When have you ever cared about what is restricted? The darkness doesn't care. They care. They are wrong.
She hung her head in her hands as her chest convulsed, pierced with memory. "The darkness," she continued, "is pure, unadulterated confusion."
Meet me here, on the dark side of the moon... the song picked up again. "Where is it?" she murmured. "Which side is darkest, when the whole moon is clothed in shadows?" Another tantalizing laugh shot down the bond. "Perhaps you're just looking at the moon out the wrong window."
Wake up.
Wake up.
Wake up.
She shoots up in bed, hands slick with sweat, grappling at the sheets that seem to be drowning her. He is there, next to her. Stroking her forehead. Concern ringing his eyes. He is pristine. His wings are shifting above her. Nervous. Her body collapses back onto the bed.
He hasn't slept. He's dressed in a soft black tunic and tight fitting pants; very official. Very scared. Exhausted.
Confusion blurs her thoughts, a vapor nullifying her coherency. The heavy oak door leading to their bedroom creaks open, and a priest glides in, his face stern. "She's getting worse," my lover whispers. The priest clenches his jaw and nods, laying a hand on her arm. She can feel his power trying to penetrate her cells, but it can't seem to dig any deeper than the surface. "I've done all I can," he says quietly. "She's nearing the end of her journey."
Her lover's frame was racked with sobs. She tries to sit back up again; trying to comfort him. The effort is too great, and her feeble efforts are thwarted by a heavy exhaustion that settled upon her shoulders. She's so tired. She just wants to sleep. Her head is weighted with a headache, chained to the pillows. The bed threatens to engulf her.
"This is why we don't allow for the Cleaved to mate," the priest softly says. "Humans leave too soon. Very fragile creatures."
The robed alchemist shuffles to the threshold and says, "I'll let you say goodbye. This will be her last night with us." With that, he ducks into the hallway. My throat is clogged with tears, but I manage to squeeze his hand tightly. Reality hits me like a flood. The illness. The magic. The persecution. The illness again.
I feel the disease wending it's way closer to my heart. "I love you," he says. My lungs struggle for breath, but I mange a weak, "I...l-love you..."
Meet me here, on the dark side of the moon
The lullaby picks up again, and I know he was the one planting it there in my dream. Plants it there now, a ballad to accompany me to the heavens.
Where time stands still...
My lungs give one last burst of energy as my heart stutters and falls silent.
The darkness cradles me in its arms.
A/N
Short story prompted by WonderlandBC
