When The Last Ember Falls

Twenty-Nine

Nesta:

The memory had fully engulfed me. Chewed me apart and then spat out the pieces of what was left of me. His scent somehow still attacked me even as I begged for it to go away.

Fire and rain and rain and fire. I shouldn't be thinking of him. I don't want to think of him.

I could be happy here, but the prick of flames wouldn't leave me alone. I knew it wasn't his doing. I knew he would never wish to harm me or my relationship. This was all internal. It was my head that was playing tricks on me—that forced me to never forget my time in the Autumn Court.

Walking back towards the kitchen, I stared at the disheveled rug where Cassian and I had fought. The place where the line between war and love blurred. The only time I felt that he still loved me. Adjusting the material to its original spot, I realized I would need to wash it later.

"Tea," I said aloud, to no one but myself. I needed yet another diversion, a break from the enlarging pit in my chest. As I made a cup of my favorite jasmine tea, a parting gift from Bea. I thought of how quickly everything happened.

The wars, the relationships.

I shook my head, hoping the action would rid me of the intruding memories. It never worked, not in the past and certainly not now. I didn't know why I kept hoping it would.

I had cleaned the cottage, taken a stroll along the beach and even hiked up the nearest mountain. If I kept moving, I couldn't think. I wouldn't be able to or else I would trip and fall and break my neck. But then I became used to the trails, to the rocks and roots no one touched but me.

Sitting on the same cliff's edge as always, I pondered what my future would be like here. How lonely and long my days had already become but years of this? Of Cassian leaving me for his troops, coming home only to fuck me and then sleep.

Tears hadn't stung my eyes; feelings of rage or agony didn't develop. I guess being alone can do that to you. It can make you see things in the distance that aren't real, hear conversations that are untrue, numb all of your senses.

A beam of orange sunlight found me, a reminder that darkness would soon fall. I headed back to the lonely house by the sea, listening to the crashing waves for comfort. I then scolded them for not pulling me out of my head earlier.

Lifting my hand towards the door knob, I felt a weight settle on my chest. He wouldn't be here, he never was. I hesitated every time I came back from my daily walks. Eventually I opened the door, wiping my dirty boots on the muddy mat.

The house was empty—quiet. The wind no longer picked up pebbles from the beach. The sky was not filled with brooding gray clouds. A storm was not on the horizon as I had thought or maybe it had just quickly passed over earlier this morning.

Locking the door behind me, as Cassian insisted every time I was by myself, I leaned my back against the withered wood. The ringing silence invaded until my eyes narrowed on the fire, snapping my fingers to speed up the magic.

A pebble hit the window, then another and another. I was alone on this island. I didn't believe there were any animals, any other creatures besides me. I moved towards the window, gulping as I got closer and closer. Not seeing a damn thing, I felt my jaw tighten.

When my fear began to tug me away, I forced my mind to think of something else. Tea would make things better...and a book. A storm would after all come and go, as would the pebbles fly, depending on the winds.

I might as well make myself comfortable. What more did I need in this life besides books and tea? What other comforts does a woman really need?