glowing. || julian devorak

part one.

The proposal was beautiful. Everyone had gathered at the shop for dinner and drinks, the room bright and the laughter loud and unrestrained. As the sun began to dip in the sky and dessert was served, Asra slid out of his chair and sank to one knee beside James, her hands clasped in his, and promised that he would love her forever, as he always had, across realms and over lifetimes; she had brought him back from the edge and he'd spend his life trying to return the favor if she would only allow him the honor of staying by her side for eternity. Teary-eyed and flushed, James accepted, throwing her arms around him and laughing about how their vows would have to be tweaked, as "till death do we part" wouldn't be very accurate.

Nadia offered her composed congratulations, eyes bright as she offered to host the wedding at the palace. The dress, she insisted, would be made by the most skilled hands and with the finest materials that could be found. Portia was jubilant, already asking what dishes might be served, if any flowers would need to be imported, how long the guest list would be. She bounced on her toes, beaming. Muriel was quiet and still, remaining seated, but the wide grin on his face made it obvious how thrilled he was for his closest friends, and the soft laugh when Asra and James both wrapped him in a tight hug was an elated sound.

And Julian...

Julian was happy for them. Of course he was. Asra deserved love — a stable, steady love that was so foreign to Julian, the type of love that radiated from James. And James deserved the world. James could ask for the sun and the stars and Asra would find a way to give them to her. They'd been in perfect harmony since they had met, falling into sync so easily, and it was foolish to have even entertained the possibility of their stories intertwining any other way. But Julian had always been a fool.

So, he clapped with the rest of his friends, smiled and offered his quiet congratulations, and left quickly and without fuss, ignoring Portia's questions of where he was off to and why so soon.

Once the carved wooden door closed behind him, he took off at a dead sprint, rushing through the cobblestone paths of Center City, ignoring the stitch in his side and the tears that threatened to spill from his eyes.

His small house in Gold Grave seemed quieter than ever, the only sound Julian's own heavy breathing. A small lamp flickered weakly in the entryway, a fire hazard if James hadn't charmed it for him when he'd moved in the year prior. Malak stood solemnly on the windowsill, his head tilted in what might have been sympathy as he watched Julian with black eyes, following as the tall man stumbled to the kitchen and poured himself a glass of clear spirits, downing it quickly. He inhaled deeply, opting to blame the shortness of breath on the long run and the fast drink. Julian ignored the tightness in his chest as he made his way to the cramped bedroom and threw himself unceremoniously onto the too-short bed. He ignored the rattling coughs that kept him from falling asleep as he'd been ignoring them for weeks.

Then the choking feeling, the blocked airway as something came up his throat with a shuddering cough, something from deep in his chest. Golden petals, crinkled and almost glowing against her red film that could only be blood.

And he couldn't ignore it anymore.