The Loneliest Traid

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  • Published: 2 Apr 2017
  • Updated: 13 May 2017
  • Status: Complete
Love and death and war and Gods and blood and magic and dancing and rest and revenge and kings and fate.
Don't worry, within these three stories you'll know yourself,
And I will put you back together again.


68. I am in Three

Jinmi watched the tower, and whenever he stepped closer, he stepped further away.  When he spotted someone in the windows, the clouds covered them like shutters.  He shouted up, and tried to beg, but he knew it was no use.  He had to finish what he came here for.

    The second realm was different outside.  In the tower, it was night, and outside seemed even brighter than before, his entire body radiating darkness.  He walked, his steps like a newborn, a boy who hadn’t walked in years.  He walked slowly, easy steps that came to him like memories, unsure, but getting it.

    The pillars were gone, trees replaced with empty space in which each step and sniff rang out like a bell.  He thought it strange, but was more focused on running.  He was too worried about forgetting either of them to forget.  Samhain, Daphne.  He matched it with his heart beat, and the more it sounded, the clearer their names were.  Samhain, Daphne.  Samhain, Daphne.

    He eventually stopped, having ran the worries from his head.  He was still lost in the glow, no indication that he had moved or even stopped anywhere new.  He looked back, but the tower was gone, and he squinted, looking around for any signs, and found none.

    He fell onto his knees, clutching at his heart.  He hadn’t moved in so long, and now his heart was struggling to keep up with him.  Samhain, Daphne, Samhain, Daphne, S-

    His tongue clicked, what was it?  The names were slipping already, and he struggled to see their eyes, their hands.  He felt as though he himself was slipping, split in three, and losing at both sides.

    “There’s no use wallowing.” she said.

    He sat up, looking around wildly, but he couldn’t see anyone other than him.

    And then she appeared, as if from a dream.  A stranger, but he knew her well.

    “Who are you?” he said.

    “A friend, but you should know that giving off light like that, it won’t be long before someone a little crueler comes along.”

    He batted the air, but it was already greyed, “I’m sorry.”

    “Don’t be,” when she walked near him, it had already turned back to white.  Her wings were towering, delicate to see and yet they fluttered and twitched and the beating was like a shout through the world, so loud it made Jinmi flinch.

    “How did you know where to find me?  Or anyone, in this place.”

    “Let’s just say that I’ve been looking out for you, Jinmi.”

    He could feel her eyes weighing down on him, dissecting him from the outside in, “You have?”

    “My name,” she said, “Is Samhain, I am the angel of November, and a guardian angel.”

    “You’re his angel?”

    She nodded, “Since birth, we always knew that he would be important, and it was my job to keep him so.”

    “And you watch him still?”

    “Gods do not watch Gods,” she beamed, brighter still, louder even, “But I have never forgotten what I had asked him to give up for us, and so I do for him what I can.  But you, I am watching for two people.  He will be heartbroken to hear of your death, and you, Jinmi, are very soon going to be met with a terrible change in fates, unless you choose now.”

    “Choose what?”

    She was taller than Jinmi, her hair long, her body thing - she seemed almost perfect, and yet when she spoke her words came from low in her, and she hunched over to deliver them, “You must choose to save Daphne first, or to leave her for now and find the spell for Samhain.”

    He thought about this a while, “I’ve only been without her what must have been a few weeks, and I’m sure that the Gods worship her already, so I am not worried for her.  Samhain, I don’t want to leave him longer than I have to.  He only has me, and I made him a promise.”

    “Do you love them both.”

    “So much.”

    “Jinmi,” she rested her hand on his face, her skin as cold as that of the dead, “You’ve been here for longer than a year.”

    “What?” he breathed.

    “And before you decide you should know one thing.”

    “Please, let him be safe.”

    “Samhain will always be safe, I can ensure that, but you should know,” she shook her head, and whispered, even that earsplitting to him, “Eros is dead, and something awful has happened.”

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