Nocturne

☾ Chapter Forty-Eight ~ Nocturne ☽

They were gathered around Arun's bedside. Candles flickered and wavered on every surface, filling the otherwise dark room with soft yellow light and the nurturing scent of honey and beeswax. Whispers left the air feeling hollow, yet silence offered only the impatient sense of loss and waiting.

Nocturne stood back, hidden in the shadows by the doorframe. She wasn't sure if she should leave or stay, but Aurora had asked her to come, and so she would wait. Wait until it was all over.

Wait until Arun was dead.

Aurora stepped back and squeezed Nocturne's hand, her yellow eyes glowing golden through a sheen of tears. The healers hadn't been able to do anything. They hadn't been able to save him. All they could do now was wait, take a step back, let his family make their final goodbyes.

If Nocturne and Aurora were upset, she couldn't imagine what Surya and Aelius were feeling. Arun had done some truly terrible things, both during his reign as king, and most especially afterwards. But he was family, she knew, and she knew that he had been good at times. It would be hard for them to say goodbye, and even harder to release him to the long and arduous journey to the silent realm where the dead stars held sway.

Nocturne leaned into Aurora, letting her black hair spill downwards, catching the candlelight as it fell. They would bear witness, together.

As they watched, there was a gasp, small, sharp, and weak. They weren't sure who it came from, but it didn't matter. A soft and strained gurgle forced its way from Arun's throat, followed by a long, defeated sigh. And that was all.

Surya leaned down, pressing her head towards Arun's chest, listening for breath or a heartbeat or any sign that he was still there. She heard nothing.

Aelius turned to stare at Nocturne and Aurora, his eyes pleading and impassioned. "Do something! You have healing magic, don't you? Help him!" he implored. Nocturne turned her head away, tears forming in her eyes and blurring the edge of her vision.

It wouldn't work. It would never have worked, even if they'd thought to try when he had just fallen ill. That kind of magic- it was just their souls, reaching out to each other. They couldn't interact with anyone else's. They would know that, if she'd been able to show them the few books she'd found on her and Aurora's abilities. If she'd bothered to tell them, and if they'd cared to listen.

It was too late now, anyway. He was dead, and no amount of their coaxing could force his soul back into his body.

Yet Aurora still stepped forwards, her arm lifting to reach out. A glimmer of gold appeared, twining around her fingertips like an illusion of fire. The pure yellow flowed like a ribbon down her fingers to reach towards the still body on the bed, wrapped in sweat-soaked silks, skin turned pale by the candlelight and Death's cool embrace.

Aurora's light never touched Arun's body. Instead, it curled in the air like a plume of smoke and the colour illuminated something that none of them, not even Nocturne, had expected to see.

Another pale flare hovered there, pulsing inwards and outwards, coiling around itself, thick as blood and as asomatous as love. It seemed to float between this world and the next, still present, but not quite here.

Without even realizing what she was doing, Nocturne stepped forwards herself, pushing past the shocked Aelius and Surya to stand beside Aurora. Purple dripped down her arm to join the yellow glow, and where the two shone together something beautiful was revealed.

Colour.

The twisting, twining shape was filled with colour. Every shade you could possibly imagine floated somewhere within the spirit. Ruby red burned the brightest, intertwining with a dignified royal purple. They were colours fit for a king.

Aurora let out an astonished sigh. "It's his soul..." Surya whispered. She reached out as if to touch it, but Aelius stopped her.

He looked at the priestesses, his expression unreadable even through the tears that traced it. "Is it dangerous?" he asked.

The girls looked at each other. "Probably not," Aurora said at last. "But I doubt you can interact with it. It's not... it's not alive, and it's not dead either. I doubt it will be fully conscious and free-willed before it at least has the appropriate ceremonies performed, maybe not even until it reaches Aster Themself. Until he reaches Aster," she corrected herself.

Nocturne sighed and agreed. "We... we don't have much information on this, as you can probably imagine."

Indeed, Aelius' hands passed straight through the plume of spirit without even dispersing it like a real mist would. But it did interfere with the magic Aurora and Nocturne were using to keep the spirit visible.

The light scattered across the room, fleeing back into their respective bodies, and the prism that held the spirit shattered and faded into nothingness, with his hands still outstretched.

"Dad..." he whispered, his voice more torn by emotion than any the girls had ever heard from him. "Father..."

Arun's eyes stared back, silent and dark. The stench of death and evacuated bowels began to fill the room, joining the odor of sweat and sickness in a fetid harmony, but Aelius didn't seem to notice. He let his hand drift downwards to press against his father's cheek. "Father... I never told you, while you were here. I..."

He sighed, his green eyes clenching shut from the quiet and persistent pain of grief. "I forgive you. You know that right? I forgive you. We all do. And- And I love you. I love you, Father." A tear dripped down his cheeks. "I'll always love you."

Aelius stepped away, his hands clenched tight to his chest. In this moment, he was no King. He was a boy, a boy of twenty who had just lost his father to a war he could do nothing to help fight, a war inside his own body. His face had gone a sickly pale green colour, and he had the distinct expression of one who had no tears left to cry. Pushing past Aurora and Surya, he rushed out of the room, slamming the door behind him.

"Aelius!" Aurora called after him, her voice muted and weak. She took a step towards the door, then stopped, her shoulders sagging.

Surya didn't move. It was as if she was frozen in time, in the moment when she realized, the moment when everything changed. The only indicator of any form of life within her was the tears that meandered down her cheeks, deceptively peaceful in their slow movements.

Nocturne made her move now, turning to the broken woman before her. "Surya," she murmured, reaching out to rest her hand lightly on Surya's shoulder, her voice calm yet emotional. "It's okay, Surya. Breathe. Cry, Surya. You'll be okay."

Surya managed to look up at her, her eyes glistening with moisture. "He's gone," she said, her tone distant and lost, as if she were staring through a mirror at what was happening, or searching for something she might never find.

"Yes," said Nocturne simply.

In an instant, Surya's composure seemed to shatter. Her shoulders shook and she leaned heavily on Nocturne, who tried valiantly to support the older woman without quavering. Aurora wrapped them both in a warm embrace.

The door creaked open again, and two people in the grey robes of Death-Scribes came in, carrying a stretcher wrapped in grey cloth. They crouched, and with great reverence began the process of moving the former king from his deathbed to the stretcher. Upon seeing them, Surya seemed to come back to herself.

"Please," she said, pulling free and approaching them. "Please, wait,"

The sorrowful Death-Scribes nodded and paused, leaving the upper part of the body uncovered on the litter. They said nothing, as was their custom during a task, but it was obvious that they wanted to offer heartfelt condolences to the grieving mother and former queen.

Surya approached the body with apprehensive slowness. Her movements were devoid of her usual grace. She leaned down and whispered something to the body that no one else could hear, then straightened, brushing one last kiss over his forehead.

Her fingers brushed the sheet that covered the body. It was silk, she noticed.

Surya pulled the grey cloth over Arun's face herself.

She whispered her parting words in a murmur as delicate as faery lights and as poignant as a ship sailing out to sea on a dangerous journey none knew how long.

"Goodbye, old love."