Chapter 51
CHAPTER FIFTY-ONE
Epilogue
It’s been a hell of a few days.
Despite years of fervent hoping and praying that Ash would come back to me, I never anticipated how the exact moment would play out.
One minute, I’m telling her I love her for the first time in her memory.
The next, she’s shaking, her eyes rolled back in her head, and I’m cradling her in my arms wondering if I’m about to lose her for good.
Despite the destruction her power caused as she came back to herself, I remained untouched. I call it luck, but Betsy calls it love. “Just another perk of that soul binding, pumpkin.” And she winked at me. Either way, I survived, largely unscathed, but scared shitless.
She came back to herself, just for a moment, and then passed out.
Betsy arrived, on the run, alerted by the change in the world. For a moment, it felt like time had slowed, each heartbeat taking on seconds of time. The world had paused while Ash’s memories slammed into her body, back into her mind and I have never been more terrified.
Apparently, the pause in time had no effect on Betsy as she barreled through the door before time had righted itself.
She had laid one hand on me, one on Ash’s forehead and closed her eyes.
I didn’t catch whatever incantation she was muttering under her breath, but it appeared to ease Ash and that was enough for me.
About ten minutes later, Annemarie was rushing in, throwing donuts at me, and was lighting bundles of incense in short order. I have no idea how the mortal woman knew something was wrong, but whatever she did, it appeared to ease Ash.
Casie
Ash
Ember
So, that’s where we are. Or were.
I… woke up. Or as Betsy later explained, the walls in my mind crumbled to dust. And not a moment too soon, apparently, since another few days and my amnesia would have been permanent, my power gone for good.
If I understand her correctly, it was my magick’s way of protecting me from the trauma of what she did.
Wait, no. What I did. It still gets confusing.
After being Casie for so long, it feels weird to think of myself as Ember.
Sometimes, it’s easy, and we feel like the same person.
Other times, it feels strange like I have someone writing memories that don’t belong to me.
Anyway, forgetting was my power’s solution to the problem. Cut the person off from their memories and give them the time to heal. If they don’t, they remain human and oblivious always, but safe and protected from the horrors that broke their mind and spirit in the first place.
I’m sure there’s more to it than that, but in the last few days, I’ve been experiencing a lot of mental overload very quickly, and it’s better for everyone if I don’t ask too many questions too fast. Or so I’m told.
Since the sensory overload is leading to mini seizures that leave me sick for hours, I’m not about to push anymore than I have been. To their credit, Betsy, Flint, even Calida have been fairly happy to answer most of the questions I’ve come up with.
Here’s what I’ve learned:
I am Ember, Princess of Goira. My mother, the Queen, is dead.
During a battle with the Hollow Order, I tapped into a… pocket… of collected trauma, using my powers to manifest it and defeat their forces. Then my power made my brain blip and I came to, in the human world with no money, memories, or prospects.
Great.
Betsy followed me here, standing in as my fairy godmother.
Annemarie is human and is quite angry about it.
She’s had choice words for both Betsy and Flint.
I’m also drowning in baked goods as baking is one of the ways she processes her feelings.
She brought over five dozen muffins yesterday.
Thank Gods for Calida, because if I eat them all, I’d be rolling down the street.
Of everyone, Calida has been the most nonchalant about everything. Of course, she knew the whole time, but she’s taken the changes and the meltdowns in stride. Namely, she makes a snarky comment and then flies away when she becomes disinterested.
Other than discussing the weird cadence to Brett’s voice that night, no one has mentioned what happened to him and, given the feral look in Betsy’s eyes when I mention his name, I’m figuring that his fate is probably something I’m better off not looking too closely at.
Honestly, she grins like the Cheshire cat - too big and with entirely too many teeth — and it’s really unnerving.
Some day, I might press the point and ask for the finer points on what my magick did to him, but for now, I have enough to deal with.
He isn’t worth anymore of my time or energy and, as far as his weirdness, Betsy was going to look into that too.
And Flint…
Flint is my… protector? Guardian? Mate? The love of my life? I haven’t quite sussed that one out yet. He’s a lot of things. He’s everything.
The series of events from Flint’s point of view has come out in fits and spurts.
I know there’s a lot that he can’t talk about yet, or won’t, but I try to be mindful that what was traumatic for me was just as traumatic for him.
I decimated a battlefield and then didn’t remember him. That has to be tough on a guy, right?
Did he whine and gnash his teeth? Post to social media about the fickleness of women and his desire to get laid?
No. He fucking followed me to the human realm. He took care of me, listened to me and for fucks sake — he made me fall in love with him again.
He helped me find myself again. More than that, he stood with me when I didn’t know myself, much less him. He helped me find those pieces of myself.
And now, he’s going to bring me home.
THE END