The last to go—she must have been brave. He thinks about it for a moment, quiet as he wonders, before responding, “Or maybe she loved the earth, and those who walked upon it, too much to let them go. Perhaps she saw the best in humanity, where the others saw only lost causes.” He wished to think of the gods in such a way, warm and accepting of mortals with all their flaws. Maybe it was only a way to reassure himself, but there was something in the idea of forgiveness that struck a chord in the shed-star, even as he looked to the constellation with a quick pang of sadness, wondering how it must have hurt the goddess to turn and walk away.
He asks Elena what troubles her, and brings her closer when she admits she does not know. For whether she knew or not, he could feel the restlessness in her. It was evident in the way her heart stumbled in her chest, beating more rapidly as she tossed and turned in her sleep. It was evident in the way she looked at him, at times appearing to almost look through him, as if expecting to see a ghost or a flicker of darkness to chase away her happiness. Whatever the reason, he knew she needed to let him in more, so his light might begin to heal the shadows in her eyes. So Azrael can only offer her comfort as they lay together beneath the stars.
“So much has changed…” He muses with her head tucked beneath his chin. “But look how far we’ve come…” The statement is reassuring as much for him as for her, as Azrael reminds himself for the hundredth time that she chose him. Some days, it was still hard for the shed-star to believe, still a marvel and a wonder. But then, he reminds himself that it is he who wakes up beside Elena. That it is he who kisses her to sleep. With every heartbeat, he is reminded… and yet even while she stands so close, she seems so far away.
“Where else would we go,” he asks her, looking back at the stars. “Once we’ve seen the galaxies and the wonders they hold? If you could see anywhere, do anything?” If they imagined it, perhaps the two could go there, left to ride on the wonder and possibility of their dreams. “I would like to see the ocean, for the three of us to set sail on a boat, to push off into the unknown… Can you imagine the worlds which lie beyond our understanding – beyond Novus?”
His mind wandered once more, to the cottage by the sea where their daughter lay sleeping peacefully, quiet and unknowing of the conflict which surrounded her. The secrets which Elena kept had to be eating at her, for Azrael’s recent meeting with Tenebrae had shown him that he remained under the illusion that Elliana was his child. Only his blindness would keep him from knowing the truth – for others had begun to wonder aloud at the child, who looked so clearly like her monk father and not the shed-star who claimed her. Time would shatter the illusion, he knew, if Elena didn’t do so first.
Somewhere else, they might have been able to start over. If he could, Azrael would have run away with the both of them, shielded them from the world’s prying eyes and wagging tongues, if only to keep them safe and happy. “You’ve done well with Elli,” he whispers, suddenly shifting the conversation to one of reassurance as he reaches to groom his teeth against the gold of her neck. “She grows brighter by the day, with all your radiance and kindness.” There was a darkness to the child, he knew, but Elena’s influence matched Tenebrae’s shadows too. “You shouldn’t worry… everything will be alright, Elena. I’m here, for as long as you’ll have me. Elli is safe and loved. All is well...” But even as he reassures her, Azrael has to wonder if the peace is true or simply an illusion that they had built together, as fleeting as the stars which soon would melt to dawn.
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