When The Last Ember Falls

One

Eris:

"Until then, King Slayer."

"Until then, Eris," Nesta replied, staring at me through the mist of shadows and fire. The blue in her irises glowing just before I vanished.

I couldn't look away. Not even as I felt my stomach drop and my hands tingle with desperation. I wanted to stay...to talk to the only friend who saw every side of me. Every dark shadow, every flicker of light.

But I couldn't. I fucking winnowed away, knowingly saying goodbye to the woman who rose from the ashes of her past. The one who helped me realize there was more to fight for, more to live for.

By the stars above and the embers that rise...Nesta had broken every brick wall I had placed between my head and heart. In every form, I love, I love her.

Shaking my head in the midst of my travels, I thought of the truth and then a reality of us. No matter which way I pictured the future—she deserved more, better. I would tell that to myself until the day I died...which might be sooner than I thought.

A wall of smoke and melted flesh smothered my senses. Even though it had been weeks, the air was still tainted with the fallen. The fields remained half in ash and half stained with blood. A war my father started and Nesta had finished.

I reappeared on the balcony that overlooked the wreckage of war. The same balcony I flung Nesta and myself off of. The one where my mother now stood, patiently waiting to greet me.

Vibrant red hair blew into the howling wind; her hope rekindling. "Eris, you came back?" she inquired with more surprise, more emotion than I had seen in years.

I swallowed the pain building in my throat, shutting out the image of Nesta's goodbye. "Did you think I wouldn't?" I asked quietly, cracking my knuckles for a distraction.

"No," she replied with sincerity. A visible weight threatening to break her posture, her soul.

I gave a sad attempt, a sorry excuse for a smile, "we have a castle to fix, a court to rebuild."

"What of Nesta?"

My smile vanished as quickly as it came. "She's awake," I grinded my teeth, waiting for the questions to pour out of her.

Instead I received one question; a trigger of emotions sparking.

Mother stepped closer, placing a pale hand on my tunic. She hadn't seen the sun in sometime. Father had forbidden it at one point, claiming the sun would only burn her beauty. "Did you tell her, son?" she squeezed my arm when I didn't answer right away.

"Why? So, she can feel worse? So, she can pick between me or her bastard mate?" I pulled out of her grasp, limping towards the railing.

Each step throbbed with a piercing pain; at first it had stunned me still. But now...well, I could manage a few feet before falling. I cursed Aedin's spear throwing abilities; in life, in death and in the next world, I only hope he suffers.

"Did you even give her a chance to decide?"

The force of her words, a blunt instrument to my nerves. "I will not put her through any further trauma." Looking over the field of ghosts, I pushed out the images of war and thought of the farmer and his son. The pair that Nesta had been so enthralled with. Somehow, I would find them. Repay them for their ruined crops—provide them with new, unspoiled land. "I've done enough to corrupt her," I said beneath my breath.

"Eris..."

"There is nothing more to discuss, mother," I nearly hissed, inhaling deeply to chain my emotions from sunlight. "She is alive, she is loved and that is all I can ask for. That is all I will ask for," my brows drew together, confirming the weight of my words.

She sighed, pressing her lips together before speaking. "We will discuss this one day, whether you want to or not," she laced her fingers together, the edge of her lips creasing.

I glanced at my mother, a statue of ice in a court made of fire and steel. I didn't expect the hidden emotions to spark or the thickness of sorrow to lower my voice, "I am a monster with fire for breath, iron for skin and ashes for a heart. I will not subject Nesta to a future as lost as mine, mother..." the knot in my throat grew, "...I will not become my father."

In that moment, I saw a flash of...something. Not fear...but...

"He's here..." she breathed, tension building between us. Her eyes focused just below my left shoulder, lost in her deception.

I leaned to one side, providing a break from my ruptured knee. A faithful glamour hiding the worst of it—always. She didn't want to talk about the crossing thought, fine then.

"Who?" I sniffed the air, only able to catch the smell of the lost warrior's stench.

Mother wrapped her arms around her chest, bracing herself, "Bronwynn."

Silence. It was all I could manage. That shit of a brother, the deserter...he's back? Here?

"He heard about Aedin and Egan...and your father. He wants to pay his respects."

"Where is he?" I growled, unable to hide my disgust.

Her empty eyes flickered to mine then back to the burned crops. "The grand hall..." she mumbled.

"Of course, how fitting for an absent son."

"Eris, please do not do this now."

I could feel the slight quiver of my jaw, the uncontrollable twitch of my left eye. "He is not here to pay his respects, mother." How she didn't see that...or maybe she chose to ignore it. After all, it was my fault for the decrease in our bloodline.

"Then for what?"

"Father's dead. As is Egan, Aedin, Bren and Arek." I exhaled, gripping the stone railing until my bruised knuckles turned white, "Lucien will never return after what this family has done to him. That leaves only me and Bronwynn."

My mother didn't reply, silent cries shaking her hollow chest. Instead those vacant eyes noticed the flash of red and orange dancing on my knuckles.

After several minutes of silence, her nimble voice reached me, "what is it, Eris?" She placed a warm hand on top of mine, instantly ceasing my fire as I studied the splattered scars along her fingers.

I didn't pull away from her this time, not when I needed her strength. Not when I needed the reminder that I wasn't my father.

"The throne. He wants the gods-damn Autumn throne."