Soft As Shadows

We'll see creation come undone

These bones that bound us will be gone

Being thrusted into roles was a commonplace occurrence for Alastair, as someone who was to be the next leader of Abyri.

Alastair became a princex the day they were born, the easiest role-assignment they had with the heaviest of implications for the future. At the same time they had become a sibling to two older royals, cherished for that role as well.

In time the roles of Protector, Researcher, Friend, Foe, all were tacked onto Alastair like badges, each shining and worn with extreme pride.

Their most recent role, Lover, was worn on their sleeve like the bleeding heart they were. This role was their favorite above all else, and so of course the world and the universe had to remind Alastair just how cruel life can be and tear that coveted role from their sleeve and their life entirely.

Alastair had woken up and immediately felt pain as if each and every bone in their body was broken, their skin was lit on fire, and then was all mended back into some semblance of a body, if they could even call it that. They knew something was off the moment they opened their eyes and saw the world in a wobbly view; they felt as if they were wobbling back and forth without meaning to. Their head spun too much and the dizziness caused them to fade in and out of conscience, feeling themselves get tethered and drawn to something close by.

They let themselves be pulled and tucked into some unforeseen void. Their whole existence felt too tired to begin to question what was happening, or what has already transpired.

They would be there when Rosie wakes after an extended length of time. Alastair had heard from Rosette herself tales of resurrection and something she dubbed “respawning”, wherein each of her family members could simply come back to life if they were to find themselves dead. The idea of being 99.9% immortal was incredible to Alastair, but the gravity of having your whole physical and mental being brought to life had not dawned on the young noble until they were finally witness to it, in Rosie’s shadow no less.

Her twin brother had brought the body into a room of what seemed to be their manor. He had placed her on the bed, turned out the candles in the room, and swiftly closed the door upon exiting. 

From Alastair’s point of view they could see Rosie’s lifeless, stiff body laid against the soft covers, the quiet of the room only disrupted by Alastair’s now-apparent static noise. They stared down at Rosie, stretching out a hand to touch her arm. A quiet noise resembling a gasp sounded from Alastair as they watched their own hand phase through the arm.

… Rosie?

Alastair tried again, attempting this time to caress her cheek. The hand swiped right through again with no contact.

N-No… why can I not touch you?

Their hands ghosted through Rosie's corpse over and over again in frantic attempts at contact, Alastair growing wearier and more defeated with each failure.

A dull light emitted from Rosie's face, catching Alastair off guard. They watched as tears silently began to fall from Rosie's closed eyes, streaming down and creating rivers along her cheeks. Out of reflex they reached out a hand toward her to comfort, but their concern turned into abject horror as the tears steadily became an opaque black. The viscous tears slid across skin and pooled around the body in record time, staining the bed like blood in its wake. Rosie's body sank into the liquid, immersed and pulled under as if she was getting sucked in by a rolling tide.

Alastair dared not breathe or move their eyes away from the void pool. A minute passed, then five, and then just as sudden as the body went under a giant flower bulb emerged from the pool. Its soft, lavender and pink petals unfurled into an impossible form of blooming clusters. Alastair recognized the flower immediately as a Polyantha rose. The Fairy! they could hear Rosie identify, pointing a delicate finger to a page in her journal and reads aloud her notes, curled up against them on the chaise in the castle's library.

In the middle of the bloom a second bulb popped up, spreading out radially. It gave off the faintest glow from the petals nearest the center; a luminescent Dahlia.

Finally, from the very center, more of the liquid from before spilled out between the petals of both flowers like a fountain, humming to life a third bulb growing out of a long, thin stalk emerging from the middle. It hung down from the vine and took shape, a blooming Bleeding Heart with its bright hues contrasting against the inky tearflow. The bulb opened up, the slowest of the three, and down floated Rosie's body, nestling into the flower bed below. The tear puddle ebbed and flowed and created a scene: one of the strangest plants Alastair had laid eyes on floating on a dark sea, with Rosie tucked into the lifeboat of a flower.

To say it was one of the most stunning things Alastair got to witness was an understatement, and they had seen things such as meteor showers and Rosie's own demon transformation.

They were witness to Rosie's magic and wits and a dark ritual interrupted by guards and-

Oh.

Suddenly Alastair is reminded on what event caused Rosie to have to resurrect, and their own aches and new form start to make sense.

The ritual had completed belatedly and couldn't stop the curse from activating. They both lived, however…

Rosie stirs awake with her eyes closed. Alastair hurriedly vanishes back into the shadow, just as she reaches out and feels around her bedside for a candle. She blearily opens her eyes and finds the wick, lighting it with her fingertip. "Well. I feel like shit." she announces to the empty room. She runs a hand down her face and sighs, rolling to the edge of the bed to get up and stretch. "Wonder what happened this time."

Right. The curse was now in effect, and just like that Alastair's whole world shatters. They curl into themselves in the shadow, watching Rosie as she goes about her room as if nothing major happened.

They are both alive, and Alastair should be incredibly grateful for that and the sacrifices Rosie made to even get to this point, but…

They watch Rosie sit down at her vanity, picking up a brush to detangle her hair while humming a tune she has no idea how it got in her head. They see the vase by her mirror, the red spider lilies stretching out from within.

For a split moment, while listening to Rosie still humming the Abyrian lullaby, Alastair wonders if it would have been less painful to have never loved at all.

We'll stir our spirits 'till we're one

Then soft as shadows we'll become ☆