Chapter 57 Astraea
Astraea
I couldn’t place my feelings. The war was won, but sorrow filled my chest too heavily to allow any room for victory.
Staring at Laviana’s peaceful face upon the pyre, I mourned for her.
“I’m sorry we weren’t there,” a male voice said from behind me. I turned, finding two nightcrawlers with faces so uncannily alike they had to be twins.
Then the memory flooded back to me with a gasp. They were the children of my nightcrawler and human guardians.
“Kenton,” I whispered, in case I was wrong, but the slightly taller dark-haired nightcrawler smiled at the name. “Ethan,” I greeted the other brother.
Ethan said, “Phew. We weren’t certain you would remember us.”
“Where have you been?” I didn’t mean to sound disappointed, but they had known the war we faced, and they hadn’t come.
Both their expressions fell as they came closer and glanced at Laviana’s body.
“It’s selfish of us to admit, but the island we live on in Althenia was untouched by the war. The forgotten isles are ungoverned, and it’s the one place people like us have found peace. We were able to raise our own families.”
I couldn’t blame them for choosing to protect their peace, but a kernel of resentment lingered as I looked at Laviana. She’d fought for so long. Fought for all vampires to be able to live a life like Kenton and Ethan had found in a secluded corner of the continent.
“Why did you come now?” I asked, trying to keep my bitterness at bay, but part of me didn’t think they deserved to mourn for Laviana when they’d abandoned her.
“Tarran found us. He told us everything,” Kenton said.
“You’ve come too late,” I snapped. It was my grief lashing out, but I wasn’t sorry for it.
“I know,” Ethan said.
“We want to help. Though we’re not fighters, we want to help you in any way we can to restore the world for the vampires. We are yours to serve.”
The war might be won, but there was a long road to rebuilding all that was broken. I expected to face resistance, and the fight for equality wasn’t over. New order took time.
All I could do was nod in agreement for now. My soul was too burdened with loss to push away a hand of help.
My light burned through the wood Laviana was laid to rest upon. There were many more deaths to honor, but I’d made this pyre just for her. For all she’d given for us to win.
Tarran approached after a few minutes, when the flames devoured the structure and the night glowed in Laviana’s memory. His presence was silent and careful, as if he didn’t want to be noticed and would slip away again after he finished grieving.
He might cast me away, but I couldn’t leave him alone in this somber moment.
“I’m glad you’re alive,” he said, but there was no warmth to it.
“I know you can’t ever forgive me for what I did to you in the past, but I miss you. I’m always here for you.”
“Touching. If I ever need a favor, I’ll keep that in mind.”
His words stung. It was a rejection of friendship but a promise he wouldn’t disappear out of my life completely.
Tarran turned to leave, and maybe it was a step out of line but I couldn’t stop myself. I all but threw myself at him, hugging him around the waist when I didn’t know how long he would withdraw from me this time.
I didn’t need him to return the embrace, but to my surprise, after a few seconds, he did.
“You’re a good leader, Astraea. Maybe even a great one,” he said.
My arms tightened before I had to let him go. Tarran despised my leadership for the rift it caused between us when I had to order his mate killed for his crimes, but that parting comment meant the world to me. It wasn’t forgiveness, but his understanding was just as valuable.
As I watched Tarran leave, a new figure emerging from the trees stunned me still.
“Zadkiel.” I said his name in a partial whimper of relief that he was alive.
Last I’d seen him was when the battle broke out on the Nova province and Auster’s betrayals came to light. He approached mournfully, as though he was fighting against being here at all.
He stopped a few paces away down the hill, and I read his need for space though my gut twisted.
“Auster was like a father to me,” he said.
That twist tuned into a punch straight through me.
“I’m so sorry,” I choked.
“I know what he did. I know you deserved your vengeance. But I still can’t bring myself to accept it.
After the battle on Auster’s province … I didn’t recognize him.
He left his lands in ruin when that wasn’t the man I knew.
The orphanage where I grew up was destroyed and I spent my time since helping to rebuild what I could over there.
Auster would come back from time to time and I saw glimpses of who I knew he was at his core.
He mourned for his lands … but he was the cause of their destruction. ”
Zadkiel paused. His head bowed, weighed with conflict and sorrow.
“I miss the man he was too,” I said carefully. “He was kind and caring, and I will always be to blame for what he became. Even though it was not my fault, his spiral all links back to me.”
Zadkiel’s jaw tensed.
“I don’t know if I can forgive you,” he said honestly.
“I understand.”
There was a part of myself I would never be able to forgive either.
Zadkiel nodded. “I don’t know why I came. Honestly, I wasn’t sure what I would say to you. I’ve been angry and sad and just … disappointed. In Auster for what he became, but then I feel guilt because he’s not here to explain and I…” Zadkiel hissed, at war with his own emotions.
I closed the distance between us tentatively. Then I reached out a hand to rest on his arm, relieved when he didn’t shrug me off.
“Time has a way of softening the edges of pain, healing wounds, and even offering forgiveness to those who once seemed beyond redemption. Auster did terrible things, but his heart … I choose to believe it loved with pure intentions despite his actions. I hope in time you’ll forgive me too.”
Zadkiel finally looked up, staring closely into my eyes.
To my relief and surprise, he approached me for an embrace.
There was something healing in it, as though the wound Auster left in me had been stitched closed.
Zadkiel was a living reminder of Auster’s love. A young celestial he raised like a son.
When we pulled away, and gave him a fond smile.
“You should take his place on the Nova province,” I said.
Zadkiel’s eyes widened. “Me? I’m not a High Celestial. I can’t do what he did.”
“Yes, you can. You have the makings of a fair and righteous ruler, Zadkiel Nova. Only you can carry on his legacy for the good it inspired before the clutches of evil took hold.”
His eyes glistened and I fought my own tears.
“Thank you,” he whispered.
“No, thank you,” I said. “I don’t know what’s to come. The construct of the High Celestials will be no more, but the provinces still stand, and the people need a guiding light.”
“Isn’t that you?”
“A beacon of light casts many rays; I hope you’ll be one of them to help me restore these lands.”
Zadkiel smiled fondly, and even though he had a long path of healing, the lift of his spirit was the first sign of hope in the aftermath of all we suffered.
Nyte had left me alone to say goodbye to Laviana, but as I walked down the hill after Zadkiel left to go back to Althenia, I found him waiting at the bottom for me. My chest ignited in a way I didn’t think would ever tame.
The long night of mass funeral pyres lay ahead, but I was ready to bear the stacking grief for the fallen so long as he was with me.
Nyte
By midnight we stood watching the final funeral pyres burning on the hills outside the city. The people gathered all around them, and Astraea lit the one in front of us.
It wasn’t the first time I’d witnessed such funerals, but it was the first time I’d felt anything personally.
Astraea gave her attention to the mourning citizens while the fires blazed.
Taking their hands, exchanging words of condolence and gratitude.
I followed right beside her silently. A few cast me wary looks and quickly made themselves scarce.
My reputation as Nightsdeath would not be so easily dismissed, but I was prepared to keep trying.
For Astraea, I had to keep working toward making them see me as their protector, not their villain.
But during Astraea’s new reign as the Ruler of Solanis, there would come new enemies, new resistance, and I would always be willing and ready to unleash the monster that would always live within me against anything or anyone who opposed her.
By the time we left the scene of mourning and retired to the castle, Astraea was exhausted.
All the emotions of the day and night, so much shared loss and sorrow, made her collapse the moment we stepped into her rooms. I caught her, but she didn’t speak.
Didn’t do anything but let me lift her into my arms and carry her into the bathing room.
She hadn’t let me convince her to take a moment to bathe and tend to her wounds before the funerals. Now I wasn’t asking. Astraea was so lost in her own unpleasant thoughts she let me begin to undress her, but her distant silence was killing me inside.
“Please talk to me,” I said, taking her chin.
Her silver-blue eyes finally met mine, and the trouble in them was tearing me apart.
“I’m happy…” she confessed.
“But?”
“With all the devastation, it feels selfish.”
I sighed. Her heart was the purest and most delicate thing I would ever possess.
Undoing her torn leathers, I took my time to count every cut, bruise, and minor scratch. While the bath filled, I traced my hands over her marked skin, pressing my lips to every blemish on her naked upper body.
“I know you won’t agree, so I’m going to be selfish for you,” I said, consuming her soft sighs.
“You gave your life to this realm and every person within it. Twice. This time you’re mine, and I’m going to make sure your life is full of everything you ever desire.
Happiness is a constant pursuit, not a final destination.
But I swear to you, Astraea, I’m never letting you stray from the bright path you deserve. ”
Her fingers threaded through my hair, coaxing my face to hers. She kissed me deeply and I burned for her.
“As long as you’re with me, I want to walk that path.”
The clouds of war would dissipate, and the hearts that bled would find stitches. It wouldn’t be easy nor quick, but we would find our way through the dark times together.
When Astraea stood naked in front of me, I couldn’t help my hands exploring the beautiful curves of her tenderly.
She reached her delicate fingers to begin undoing the fastenings of my leathers.
I wasn’t going to object; we were both in need of bathing and I didn’t plan to release her for a second tonight.
Once bathed, she wore a short silver silk nightgown and climbed into bed.
I lay beside her, folding a blanket over her bare legs. One hooked over me as I settled under with her.
“Do you want to hear a story?” I mumbled, idly playing with her damp hair.
Astraea hummed. “Is it a nice one?”
“It has a happy ending, I promise.”
Astraea smiled and I traced the creases around her mouth.
“Go on then,” she said, nestling further into me.
I took a long breath and cast my eyes to the bed canopy. I flooded her mind to make her see stars and all the constellations she loved.
“Once upon a time, there was a war between stars.”
End.