Ivory and Ebony (Grisha)

Before

BEFORE

As time passed, the light started to fade, refusing to answer the wordless cries of its wielders. With every otkazat’sya summoner death, more light was lost. But even on the darkest nights, the stars still shone, illuminating the shadows and obliterating fear.

Sometimes, the white-haired girl would stand under the light of the moon and watch the shadows dance along the ground. But then, the boy would come and remind her that the darkness was a terrible place; that she should stick to the soothing light of day. So, she would gently remind him, as she had done so many times before,

“There is light even in the darkest places. Are the stars above not suns?”

He could not argue with her on this, but he still pleaded for her to come inside, where it was warm and bright and safe. After a few minutes of his unrelenting speech, the girl finally agreed, only because it would make him happy.

She let him lead her back inside, dragging her by the wrist that once held a fetter of perfect scales. She couldn’t help but anticipate a jolt of energy, even though it’d been years since the last time it had happened. She missed that life, the life of light and darkness, of adventure, of ruination, more than she cared to admit.

So she locked her feelings away and once again hid behind the mask of weakness she had endured before. She had long since vowed not to want for the improbable, for wanting makes us weak, as someone once told her. And weakness ruins everything.

The boy sat her down in a chair by the fire, and he took the one opposite hers. He tried meeting her gaze, but she would not lift her eyes.

“You’re thinking about him again, aren’t you,” he asked in a low voice. Her head snapped up, looking at him intently. Tell me he doesn’t matter. Tell me you felt no regrets, he wanted to say to her, he wanted to hear her tell him that she had no regrets because she had him by her side. But this was not the answer he would receive, and he knew it.

She looked at him solemnly for a moment before her mouth quirked up into a half-smirk. “Thinking about who? Nikolai? David? The Apparat? You’ve got to be more specific.”

The boy grinned, forgetting his troubles, even if for just a moment. She was glad he was happy. At least that makes one of us, she thought, and then immediately regretted her silly mental outburst. It’s not that she wasn’t happy. She chose this life, but she couldn’t help wanting something… more.

She had always hungered for more. And so she just went faster, and faster, until she became a flickering blur, carving her path through the world. And she never looked back, until the price of stopping was too high.

So she paid the price before it became impossible. It was very high, but fair, she thought. But that didn’t stop her from regretting it, even if she shouldn’t.

She looked over to the boy. He was getting older, yet she hadn’t aged a day. It wasn’t supposed to be like this anymore. She didn’t want to hurt him, knowing she’d still look the same when he was bare bones in the dirt. They both knew of this fact, but neither wanted to acknowledge it. But the less open they were with each other, the more divided they became.

How long would it be before they were total strangers to each other?

How long would it be until he was old and weak?

How long would it be until he was gone forever?

The girl didn’t want to think about this, but it still crossed her mind sometimes.

            She knew she could tell him all the secrets she’d kept locked up inside over the past ten years, she knew she could tell him any time she so desired. But each time, a tiny part of her soul just wouldn’t let her. They were her secrets. Not the boy’s.

            And each time she had this internal conversation, she realized just how different the two of them truly were. He was an open book, and she was a closed door.

A single tear made a track down her face before dripping silently on to the floor. The boy didn’t even notice.

She sighed inwardly. I will be happy. This life is all I ever wanted.

 

“I’ll be right back,” she said, not bothering to wait until he replied before getting to her feet. She walked into the kitchen, pausing to look out the window. She gazed up at the moon, as she did earlier, becoming entranced by its soft and silvery light, and murmured a few indecipherable words under her breath.

“Are you all right?” the boy’s voice called from the room she had just left.

“Yes, I’m fine,” the girl answered, not wanting to force her eyes to look away from the star-filled sky. Eventually she turned from the window and grabbed a small basket off of the countertop.

She returned to the room where she had been sitting with the boy and passed him the basket with the excuse,

“I was just getting us a little snack.”

He unwrapped the small bundle inside the basket and drew out two sweet rolls glazed with honey and sugar.

“Thank you,” he said appreciatively, handing one back to her. They ate in silence, content in the company of one another- more or less.

After having finished their meager meal, the girl decided to retire for the night. Before heading to bed, she returned the basket to the kitchen and said goodnight to the boy.

Then she trudged up the stairs and entered the bedroom, striking a match to light a blue candle emblazoned with a sun that rested on the windowsill. The boy hated the candle; it reminded him of the unpleasant past. The girl felt as if it paid homage to the past as well, but not in a bad way. It reminded her to be thankful for what she had, for it could be gone in a single moment.

Once the candle was sufficiently lit, the girl climbed into bed, first slipping a hand under her pillow- an acquired habit- and then drew the heavy covers over herself, hoping to eliminate the ever-present chill that had haunted her for the past decade.