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“Fire sprites are just very emotional. They love to overreact, that’s all.”
“There’s every way,” Fisher rumbled, his eyes darkening. “I’d know the smell of you anywhere. On anyone. I’d know it blind and in the dark. Across a fucking sea. I’d be able to scent you—”
“Oh, look. She lives,” came a hushed voice.
“You’re both as insufferable as each other. Now can you please get your filthy, muddy boots off of the bed?” “What does it matter? The mud just disappears, anyway.” He demonstrated, wiping the mud-caked soles of his boots against the rucked-up sheets, looking very pleased with himself when the mess he made promptly disappeared. “See.”
All we know is that when the god swords went silent and abandoned the rest of the Fae who carried them, Nimerelle stayed. At a cost.
“Gods, will you stop doing that?” I hissed under my breath. “Why? I’ve seen the way your skin breaks out in goose bumps when I speak to you like this.”
For the first time since meeting him, I watched Renfis bristle with anger. “You’re more than needed. You’re required. We’re done with this, Brother. If you bear me any love or respect at all, you’ll come to the meeting.”
“I can’t trust anything,” he whispered breathlessly.
“No! No, Fisher. You were here, and you didn’t breathe a fucking word of it to any of us. How many times have every single one of us in this room stood at your side and bled with you? We were supposed to be a family, and you just fucking abandoned us.”
So they took what was supposed to be a punishment and embraced it with open arms.
“You want to bite me,” I whispered.
“Magnificent,” Fisher rasped.
It came from the ink on your body. You touched me. It slipped from your skin to mine.
He called me a waste of carbon. What does that even mean?”
“Because she is moonlight. The mist that shrouds the mountains. The bite of electricity in the air before a storm. The smoke that rolls across a battlefield before the killing starts. You have no idea what she is. What she could be. You should call her Majesty.”
It was a question. Is this something you want?
We will bear witness to the blood.
We remember, so the Alchemist remembers.
She is the dawn. She is the moon. She is the sky. She is oxygen in our lungs.