Alchemised

by SenLinYu

Helena had enlisted in the Resistance and sworn fealty to the Order of the Eternal Flame—not out of faith, but because of Luc Holdfast. Because she might not believe in the gods, but she had believed in him, that he was good and kind and cared about everyone.

I imagine they taught you to enjoy suffering. After all, sacrifice is a healer’s calling, isn’t it?”

“Healing is a miracle; it’s not something you’re supposed to put your name on,” she

The act of vivimancy, he said, could only be purified through intentions of selflessness.

Men prone to violence were generally thoughtless, acting with emotion first and applying reason after.

Lumithia, the warrior goddess of alchemy.

“Holdfast is dead,” he said sharply, as if he’d seen the answer in her eyes. “The Eternal Flame extinguished. There’s no one left for you to save.”

Iron was one of the eight traditional metals associated with the eight planets: lead for Saturn, tin for Jupiter, iron for Mars, copper for Venus, quicksilver for Mercury, silver for Luna, lumithium for Lumithia, and gold for Sol.

It was as if all colour had been leached from the world. Except her. She stood there in blood red, stark against the monochrome.

She looked up at him. “You’re a monster.” He raised an eyebrow. “Noticed that, have you?”

Perhaps she could find a very sharp stick somewhere and stab him with it.

“You know I’m not going to kill you,” Ferron said, his eyes glittering with amusement. “After all, if I were, you’d feel obliged to come running.”

It might be her best chance to get herself killed.

“I will die before I lose her,” Ferron said, his grip tightening.

She tried not to notice. When she couldn’t help it, she tried not to care.

“Worrying about me?” His face twisted into a gloating smile. “I never thought I’d see the day.”

He gave a thin smile. “I don’t believe I have a conscience,

“Ferron always comes for me,” she whispered.

“I don’t like when people are dead,” she said in a small voice.

“Well, you—you have a natural talent for it. In another life, you could be a healer.” “One of life’s great ironies,” he said,

“But at this point I suppose I deserve to burn. I wonder if you’ll burn, too.”

Heroism is something for others to perform for the masses. Intelligence work—our work—is breaking people open by whatever means necessary to reach their secrets. That is what you are a part of now.”

“Don’t worry, I won’t take advantage of you,” he said softly in her ear.

The lumithium talisman. That must be it. The source of the Undying’s power.

She couldn’t kill him. Not after he’d trusted her. Not after he’d helped them. A month ago, perhaps, but not now.

Her throat thickened, and a weight in her chest lifted, as if the universe was telling her it was possible. A southern ritual had no place in the North, but she’d given everything for the war, and it had not been enough. Superstition was all she had left.

“Don’t die, Marino. I might miss you.”

“You’re like a rose in a graveyard,” he said, and his lips twisted into a bitter smile. “I wonder what you could have turned into without the war.”

“If you don’t want me to kiss you, you should say so now,” he said.

“You made me feel like the parts of me that aren’t useful still deserve to exist. Like I’m not just all the things I can do.”

They were the inverse and counter to each other. A healer and killer, circling slowly, the push and pull inexorable.

“Don’t die, Kaine,” she said. The line he walked frightened her. If the array was the punishment for a failure, what would the price of betrayal be? A smirk twisted his mouth as he looked at her. “There are far worse fates than dying, Marino.” She nodded. “I know. But that one you don’t come back from.” He gave a bitter laugh. “All right, then, but only because you asked.”

Women were always defined by the lowliest thing they could be called.

She bit him without thinking. There was a hunger inside her that she couldn’t explain, a pit of want to taste and feel and hold and not be always, always empty. She wanted to curl up so tight alongside him that she vanished.

“I can’t—I can’t do this again—” he finally gasped out. “I can’t care for someone again. I can’t take it.”

The Ferrons were possessive enough to eat themselves alive before they’d let go of anything they considered theirs.

“When you can’t die, people keep hurting you until you can hurt them more.”

“I’m sure there’s something poetic in it all, but right now all I feel is a new set of manacles.”

“Fine.” She swallowed. “For Luc.” “For Luc. Come on.”

Shiseo looked from her to the paper, an odd gleam of interest in his dark eyes. “I always knew you were very interesting.”

“I don’t want to always be alone,” she said. It was easier to be honest in the dark. “I want to love someone without feeling like if they know, it’ll end up hurting them. People who love me always die. No matter what I do, it’s never enough to save them. I have to love everyone from a distance, and I’m so lonely.”

“This—is the way I wanted it to be,” she admitted. “With you. I wanted it to be like this with you.” He went very still. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry it wasn’t,” he finally said, pulling her closer.

“I should have known—the moment I looked into your eyes, I should have known I would never win against you.”

Kaine Ferron was a dragon, like his family before him. Possessive to the point of self-annihilation. Isolated and deadly,

“I used to think that we were the reverse of each other. Now—” She looked at him and extended her hand. “—I can’t help feeling like we’re mostly the same.”

Their foreheads touched, and she closed her eyes. It was as though their souls were touching, too.

She reached out, her fingers brushing back his hair. “Don’t worry. I’m always going to come back to you.”

There is too much at stake. I have to go where I can do good.” A look of fury joined his resentment. “No, you don’t. It doesn’t matter how many times you break yourself, the gods don’t care.

“You’re wrong because I’m part of the universe,” she said. “A tiny piece, I admit, maybe never an important or mathematically significant one, but still a piece. You and I are not separate from it. No one is. It matters to me, everyone who’s died and everyone who will, and everyone who suffers. As long as I exist, I will always care. And that means that part of the universe does.” She smiled at him. “Doesn’t that make it all a little brighter?”

“Be careful, Kaine. Don’t die.”