50. Chapter 50
Chapter 50
Mace
" I don't think you realize how much the battle damaged the southern housing sector, numen. We've been working to get it put back together, but it's slow going without you."
Viola's eyes are closed, her face relaxed with the blissful sleep that she only falls into when she is overloaded or over-drained by the magic within her. Her skin still has a healthy glow, but her cheeks are hollowing a little. I know she doesn't need to eat in this state, but sometimes I worry that she is wasting away.
Even though I know her magic would never let that happen.
It's been a month since she came out of the shadow vision covered in blood and declared that she had killed Himureal.
For the first two days, everyone was relatively calm about her stasis because this is something we've encountered before. But a week of no reaction from her bled into two, and suddenly, I was being asked to make decisions on what should happen next.
There was a power vacuum left in Ytopie. The day after the Frostweaver fell, messages came flying in from Tempests in the city. They not only announced the death of Himureal but also that at some point, Viola had turned on the mesh used to broadcast the Race, and everyone's connections lit up with his last moments. She's being hailed a hero. Whatever she did or said during those final moments let the city know she was never alongside him, despite what he said.
For now, we have reinstated what Patricians were left to keep Ytopie running smoothly until Viola wakes, and we can develop a more robust plan for what Krillium will look like after the second fall of the Gods.
"I think it would be wise for us to encourage all the fae to leave Ytopie. They're so disconnected from the rest of Krillium, and I think to truly unite everyone, we need to have us all living together," I tell her supine form. "Don't you think?
She, of course, never answers me, but I have to hope she can hear me wherever it is that she goes when she is like this.
Shadow, her shadow seps familiar creature, that creepy fuck, slithers up her body, coiling on her chest and resting there. "Shadow has been a mess without you, Viola," I say, staring the snake down. "He's been moping around, tripping us all up as he tries to climb us." The snake lifts his head and flicks his tongue at me and I swear his eyes narrow.
Once, when I was reading, he managed to drop from the ceiling onto my shoulders. I am not ashamed to say I screamed like a child and tried to fling him off of me.
"Without you around he expects the rest of us to entertain him," I continue. "But I think we'd all be a little bit better off if you just woke up."
I lean back in my chair, rubbing my sternum absently. The door behind me slams open, and I startle, the front legs of the chair crashing onto the stone floor. "Mace!" Tulip shouts from the doorway.
Standing, I turn to face the young woman. Today, her hair is restrained in a sleek knot on the top of her head, and she's wearing a rich blue jumpsuit that must have come from Cirrha. Her feet are bare and I just know the bottoms of them are black with dirt.
It never seems to bother her.
"Any movement?" she asks, strutting into my home like it is her own. If you were to ask Viola, she'd say it was. "I have a feeling it's going to be today."
She's said this every day, of course. Obviously, it hasn't been. But that hasn't hurt her optimism at all. Like me, Tulip has never doubted that Viola will wake up soon and will have a story to tell. "You may be right," I concede, as I always do. What's the harm in hoping?
Morrow appears panting in the doorway, his cheeks red with exertion. He's shirtless, with linen trousers in a creamy shade slung on his hips under his slightly round stomach. Over the past month, he's gotten a lot better at adapting to missing his hand and forearm.
"Fuck, woman, why did you have to take off running like that?" he pants, glaring at Tulip. When I chuckle he swings his gaze to me. "We were outside the walls, and she just stood up and bolted. You'd be winded too."
"You're not wrong about that," I concede. I'm not out of shape, but I'm also not built like Zeph was.
Tulip was not wrong when she said that you grow around your grief. It's only been a month, and I haven't grown much, but it is getting easier every day. When we cleaned out Zeph's home, we found a small journal that none of us recognized stored with those of the original high priests.
It turns out, Zeph had been keeping his own high priest journal in secret.
It wasn't like the others, though. It was a how-to guide. Interspersed with stories from the moment he found Viola in a cell below the Palace are instructions for how he gathered and recognized devotion and fed it to Viola when she needed it.
I won't say that he knew what was going to happen to him because no one has that kind of foresight, but Zeph was always a planner. No one has pushed me to let them read it, and I'm glad. There are some raw entries in here that I do not believe anyone other than Viola and myself needs to be aware of. There are conflicting feelings about seeing us together and how he wasn't upset by it but felt like he should be after all that happened in Ytopie littered throughout it.
"I just have this feeling," Tulip says, shaking her head. "She's going to wake up. I just know it."
"What kind of feeling?" I ask, turning to face her. She always says that today is the day, but there is something different in her vehemence today.
Morrow enters the house fully and stands next to his pretend wife, who will probably one day be his real wife and looks down at the peaceful figure of the Shadowweaver. "It's hard to describe," Tulip continues, leaning her head on Morrow's shoulder. "A pulling, a need to be beside her. She's going to wake up and need me here."
Furrowing his brow, Morrow narrows his eyes at Viola. "It'd be very nice if she woke up today. I feel like there isn't much more we can do around here without her input."
The door behind us slams open again, causing the three of us to startle. I turn around and see Cirrha and Taegan in the doorway, both of their faces covered with a sheen of sweat. "Is she awake?" Cirrha asks, crossing the room. I look at my friend in confusion, and she shrugs. A beautiful gray dress floats around her body. "What? I check in on her."
"Not so enthusiastically," I huff. This is a lot of people for the small home Viola and I occupy, and it's starting to feel like a party is happening. Taegan takes a seat at the table and pulls his notebook out, jotting down something. "How is it coming along, Taegan?"
"Good, I think," he answers softly. Taegan has taken it upon himself to write down what happened, to record this moment for history. The truth. None of us feel like we got factual information on what happened leading up to and after the first fall, and we do not want to leave a legacy of confusion the same way. "I could really use Viola's input, though."
"So could we all, I think." I cross the house to close the door, grumbling to myself about how it was left open when I hear a soft cough that has my shoulders freezing. Abandoning the task, I shove past everyone and drop to my knees beside the bed.
Viola's head turns, her eyes hazy as she squints at me. It takes a minute for them to focus, and then her mouth stretches into a wide grin. "So that's what she meant," she says. Her voice is hoarse, and she coughs again to clear it. A glass of water appears over my shoulder, and I take it without looking at who handed it to me. I hold it to Viola's mouth, and she gulps it down. Shadow slides off her chest and wraps around her arm as I help her sit up, propping her up against the wall.
"What who meant?" I ask, sitting next to her.
"The Eternal Equinox." I glance at our friends to see if any recognize that name, but none do. When Viola notices our confusion, she laughs. "I have a lot to tell you. How long was I out?"
"A month, numen."
She stutters, eyes wide. "What? How? It was one conversation. I wasn't even there that long!"
"Even where?" Tulip asks, pushing her way to the bed to sit on Viola's other side.
Viola sighs, rubbing her face. "I tasted Himureal's blood and fell into a shadow vision that was not of my own making." As she tells the story, my jaw slacks at the implication. Viola has taken on the power of the deity that was originally tasked with protecting our entire realm. Even if she can remove that power at some point, that has to be an overwhelming burden.
"And then, as I was leaving, she told me to listen to my high priests," Viola continues.
"Priests? As in plural?" Morrow asks, crossing his arms over his chest.
"Yep, plural. And she told me I would just know, and turns out I do." She looks at me, placing a hand on my cheek and pulling my face down to hers. "High priest of Autumn," she murmurs against my lips.
I whip my head back, eyes wide. "Me?" My voice comes out as a squeak, but as soon as it does, that pain I've been feeling in my chest calms down, smoothing into a silky shadow that twirls within my soul. "Me," I say again, my voice firmer.
Viola struggles off the bed, Morrow grabbing her arm to steady her when her feet hit the ground. "High priest of Summer," she says, clasping his forearm with her hand. He mimics the gesture, face slack. "Shadowweaver," he says quietly, reverently. "I…" He inhales deeply. "That's that feeling, then? That incomplete feeling I've been having?"
"I would assume so," she says with a smile. As she turns, my eyes find Cirrha, whose expression resembles that of a trapped animal, like she already knows what is coming. "High priest of Spring," the Shadowweaver says kindly, her hand finding Cirrha's shoulder. Taegan looks up from his place at the table swiftly and then back down to his book, where he continues to write furiously.
Yes, this is certainly something for the history books.
Cirrha bows her head and looks up at Viola from her dipped position. "I am honored to serve you."
"Thank you, high priest," Viola responds before heading back to the bed and crawling back between Tulip and me. It has not escaped notice that there is not a high priest of Winter, but the fact that Viola was the only Winter Seaonsale must mean that there isn't one.
But then Viola looks at Tulip, and Tulip gulps, shaking her head. "No way," she says quietly.
A silent conversation of expressions passes between the two of them, and Viola nods. "If you want, I mean. It's what is meant to be."
Tears well in Tulip's eyes, and she grabs Viola's face. "I was always meant to find you," she says quietly. "I don't know what brought me to you in the summit that day, but I am so grateful it did."
Viola mirrors the gesture, and the room grows cold. It's hard to describe the feeling that wells up inside me, but it must be a draw on devotion because Morrow and Cirrha perk up as well, their attention focused solely on Viola. The Shadowweaver reaches into her chest and pulls out a small, shining spot. It looks like the way our magic appears when we cast has been gathered and condensed into a single spot, shining a blue so bright it almost hurts my eyes.
Tulip inhales deeply, and Viola places the shining spot between her eyes. "High priest of Winter," Viola says, and we all watch that light spread through Tulip as she does.
"Wait!" Tulip says, pushing back from Viola. "I… you…" She struggles to get words out, grasping her chest. "This is different. What did you do?"
Viola shrugs. "You are my high priest as the others are. But the Equinox believed that the reason the previous high priests were so corruptible was because they had no magic of their own, and they began to covet. The feeling of it, when they funneled the devotion, was enough to drive them to madness to get their own."
"Hold on," Morrow says, his voice low. "Are you saying…"
"I have magic," Tulip whispers. "I have Winter magic." Morrow gapes at his partner, eyes darting between her and the Shadowweaver. Viola grins smugly and shrugs.
"Does this mean you can give Plume her magic back?" Cirrha asks. "You should do that. She should be your high priest, not me."
Viola shakes her head, "That is the smallest sliver of my magic, and I cannot erode myself to give magic to everyone who does not have it. It is only worth the risk of giving it to Tulip to ensure that my high priest has the necessary magic." She slumps against my shoulder, her body still worn out despite a month of stasis. "You are my high priest, Cirrha. I do not choose who gets the draw. I worry Plume will be hurt that it did not come to her. But I hope this gives her the freedom to make a new life for herself. She said she wanted to explore the realm."
"Does this mean I'm fae?" Tulip asks quietly after a beat. Hope glimmers in her eyes. I weave my fingers into Viola's and squeeze. I am blown away at the power she commands, and this connection as her high priest is just one more thing that makes me love her.
"You are," Viola replies. "I hope that's okay. I can remove it if you do not wish to be my high priest."
A hiccup of a sob escapes Tulip and then she launches herself off the bed, throwing herself into Morrow's arms. "I'm not going to die!" she says through tears.
"Were you sick?" His face betrays his utter confusion as he struggles to hold the sobbing woman as she wraps her legs around his waist.
"No, but I was human. I was going to die, and you were going to live, and I couldn't let you watch me grow old and die."
It hits me then, that the reason Tulip always kept her distance was to keep the eventuality of losing her away from Morrow. I can see the same realization drop down his face, and he buries his face in her neck. "We can live a long life together, Tulip." His voice is thick with emotion and the moment is so intimate I wonder if we should clear the room and let them have it to themselves.
The Summer high priest lifts his head and locks eyes with Viola over Tulip's shoulder. Tears stream down his face as he looks at her. "This is the greatest gift you could have ever given me."
"I love you both," Viola responds.
Morrow wedges his arm under Tulip's ass and then turns and walks out of the house, leaving the four of us left laughing in his wake.
Taegan gathers up his notebook and turns to Viola. "I hope you don't mind, but I have been writing down what happened here. I want to tell the true story of everything you've accomplished."
"We've accomplished," Viola interrupts.
"Sure, we've accomplished," he says, humoring her. "I think it's even more important now since we will never truly know what happened before. Please come find me when you're ready to talk about it." He turns and leaves, pausing at the doorway for Cirrha.
"I'm still not sure why it is me, Shadowweaver, but thank you." Her voice is quiet. I know there was something between Cirrha and Zeph, the others have told me as much this past month, and it cannot have been easy for her to lose yet another partner. Her stoicism is beyond reproach, and this is the first crack of emotion I've seen since he died.
She turns and leaves with Taegan, leaving Viola and me suddenly, blessedly, alone. Even Shadow appears to have made himself haste. I cannot stop myself from pulling her into my lap and clutching her tightly to my chest.
"Well, my numen, you certainly do know how to make an entrance."