Chapter Text
Slow steps brought Ivy down to the tomb. More white streaked her hair. As exhausting as the trek from the castle to the crypt was, her longing for the comfort she had been denied for almost a year drove her onward.
When she arrived in the burial chamber, Zelkov was sitting up with his eyes unfixed. Upon registering her presence, he focused and began to shake off the dust that had accumulated. The dim, red flame in the lamp did little to dissipate the shadows.
“Ivy,” he said with concern. “Something has changed.”
She laughed without humor. “Very much has changed.”
She sat beside him on the marble slab, then curled up with her head on his lap. He rested a hand on her shoulder.
“I almost died.”
He didn’t say anything, but stroked her hair. She closed her eyes. Something, at least, could be like it was.
“There is a new Crown Princess. Ajisai. She is perfectly healthy. The birth was…” Her body tensed. “It did not go well. I don’t know if I particularly wanted to live through it. But I did.”
His gentle touch, asking for nothing in return, soothed her. She yawned, then opened her eyes. It wouldn’t do to fall asleep in the tomb.
“I lost so much blood. I was so weak. I couldn’t take care of her. They took her away and gave her to a nurse. Now, she cries when I try to hold her. She smiles and laughs for Kagetsu.” Ivy stared into the shadows for a moment. “Oh, yes, he came back once the message reached him that I was pregnant. He got here shortly before the birth.
“I… I really don’t know how he feels about me. He is perfectly kind and considerate to me, but he sleeps in another room now. He… never smiles at me anymore…” A tear rolled over the bridge of her nose and dripped onto Zelkov’s leg. “My body hurts, my soul hurts, but I am still expected to be queen.”
“If only I…” He stopped and shook his head. “My regrets will not help you. All I can tell you is that if love could heal your pain, you would never suffer again.”
She put her hand on his knee. “Maybe that could be enough for now.”
“You have shown more strength and endurance than any human should have to. And you have worked a miracle. You brought new life into the world.”
“Would things have been different,” she whispered. “If she had been yours…”
Words could not mend the wounds in their heart; they simply remained together, drawing strength from each other’s presence, until Ivy was forced to make her weary way back to the castle.
Years passed. Ajisai grew. It always seemed to Ivy that there was some barrier between them, something that kept them from connecting. With her father, she was always laughing, smiling, showering him with kisses. Around Ivy, she was quiet and subdued, the model of a perfect princess. On Kagetsu’s part, he loved his daughter with every fiber of his being. Ivy had expected no less of him. He taught her the particular style of swordsmanship native to Pale Sands. He would steal her from her studies to wander in the Elusian wilderness. They would have picnics and snowball fights. Ivy wished she could join them, but they never invited her. She could never quite bring herself to ask. And of course with her duties as queen she wouldn’t have had the time anyway…
With Ivy, Kagetsu was still attentive and thoughtful. He would bring her tea in the evenings, and sometimes even kiss her on the forehead. When she was having one of her terrible headaches, he would shut the curtains and tell everyone not to bother her. But there was a distance there that they couldn’t quite seem to bridge. Had he withdrawn from her? Or had she withdrawn from him, and he couldn’t quite manage to hold his hand out to her as he once did?
Ivy still visited Zelkov every chance she got. She had offered to let Kagetsu spend time with him while she stood down the hall, but he had refused.
“I will remember him as he was in life,” was all he would say.
And for that, Ivy couldn’t quite blame him. As the years went by, Zelkov talked less and less. It took him longer and longer to wake up. He had lost the thread of time. Ivy stopped mentioning Ajisai. He couldn’t remember who she was, and Ivy couldn’t bear to explain. When he did speak, it would be of the past — the all-too-brief span of time that he was alive.
It was with mixed feelings that Ivy stepped onto the Somniel again after so many years. Kagetsu and Ajisai followed behind her. Hortensia, Goldmary, and Rosado were already off reconnecting with old acquaintances. It was the anniversary of the defeat of Sombron, and the Divine Dragon had called her former comrades together to celebrate. The leaders of Elyos were all there: Diamant, Timerra, Céline — even Veyle, though she refused to call herself queen of Gradlon. Still, there were absences deeply felt.
In the far corner of the Somniel, where there had once been a rock quarry, there was now a memorial to those who had fallen in battle. Ivy’s feet slowly took her that way. She held her aching spine straight to hide the weariness and pain that hounded her these days.
Kagetsu pointed out landmarks and told stories to Ajisai as they walked. The princess’s head swiveled from left to right. She looked so much like her father, with her wide hazel eyes trying to take in the wonderments of this island in the sky.
The Somniel had not changed in the decades that had passed since Ivy had lived there. It had been such a brief period, so bittersweet. The Fell Dragon, the Divine Dragon. The horrors of war, a new dawn for Elyos. Love and loss. It felt as if her life had both begun and ended in this place.
They passed through a secluded portico. She had shared a kiss here once, in the darkness of the new moon.
Kagetsu grew silent as they approached the memorial. Three statues stood together on a plinth, larger than life. They looked off somewhere far away that only they could see.
“This must be Chloé.” Ajisai pointed. “Queen Céline’s retainer. She was a pegasus knight, kind-hearted and noble. That’s what my tutor said.”
“Your tutor is correct,” Ivy replied.
“She was very beautiful,” Ajisai commented, then moved on. “And this is Amber, King Diamant’s retainer. He was courageous, but always getting into ridiculous situations.”
“Yes. You should ask Jade to tell you some stories while we’re here.”
Diamant’s other retainer had sought to immortalize her fallen partner within the pages of her books. Perhaps then Amber would truly be remembered as a legendary hero, if an unconventional one.
“And this was your retainer, Mother.”
Neither Ivy nor Kagetsu spoke.
Ajisai continued to quote her lessons. “Though he was known for his skills as an assassin, Zelkov is remembered for his many talents as a craftsman as well as his altruism, especially toward children.”
Ivy gazed up at the stone likeness. Once, Zelkov would have carved it better. But whoever the artist was, they had still managed to capture something of his spirit. The statue stood confident, poised to take action, yet the face turned to the setting sun was pensive.
Ivy knew that Zelkov would never stand in that way again. And it had been so many years since he had seen the sun…
Ajisai’s voice broke her reverie. “You never talk about him.”
A ripple of emotion passed between Ivy and Kagetsu.
“We do him a disservice. His memory should live on.” Kagetsu turned to his daughter and smiled, though his eyes were misty. “I will tell you so many stories of Zelkov that you will feel you knew him yourself. Have you truly never heard the tale of my first defeat, and how I came to be your mother’s retainer…?”
Kagetsu put an arm around Ajisai’s shoulders and led her away. Ivy was left alone wondering where she belonged.
They sat together on the floor of the burial chamber, hand in hand. Every joint and muscle in Ivy’s body ached, and the cold stones did nothing to help it. She ignored it though. The pain was a constant now in her life.
She turned her head to Zelkov and found him looking at her. There were times when he was so still and silent that she would worry his soul had left her for good, but awareness was there, lingering dimly in his eyes. What was this existence that she had consigned him to? What did he think? What did he feel?
“What do you remember?” she asked.
To her surprise, he answered.
“I remember picking herbs with my mother. And running in the sun with my brother. I remember blood and fire and killing. Then despair. Then you. Then death.”
“Do you wish that I had never raised you?” she whispered.
His focus on her sharpened until it was almost like the penetrating glance he used to give her.
“To a man who found his life to be meaningless, the fact that you wished for my existence to continue is more than I could have ever asked for.”
Ivy watched him degenerate and sometimes wondered if it was worse than the shock of his death. A man who was once never at rest, filled with boundless creativity and sweet kindness, now never moved nor spoke. She was losing him all over again, powerless as his life slipped through her fingers one drop at a time.
Yet she couldn’t find it in herself to regret it. She still treasured the moments she had with him. Was it selfish of her? Was it self-destructive of her? In the quiet darkness of the crypt, far from the overwhelming energy of the castle, she found some measure of peace. She would stroke his hair as his head lay in her lap and tell herself that there was a smile on his face. This was what she was doing when his voice broke the silence. When was the last time she had heard it? It was indistinct, but grew stronger as he went on.
“How long has it been? Since I died…”
“It has been thirty years.” It was a blow for Ivy to realize this.
“I have been dead longer than I was alive. My spirit… slips away.”
“You have held on so long for my sake.” She came to a decision. “Tomorrow night, we will say goodbye.”
He looked up at her in the dim light of the eternal flame.
The next night, she dressed all in white. Her hair too was now as pale as the moonlit snow. Only her violet eyes retained their color. She carried with her four gold coins. A note for Kagetsu and Ajisai lay on her desk. It would never be able to convey all the things she wished it would.
Zelkov opened his eyes slowly when she touched his cheek. She helped him down to the floor and placed two of the coins in his pocket. Then she laid down beside him.
“What… are you doing?”
“I am tired. The pain never leaves me. I spent my life dragging Elusia to prosperity. My daughter is an adult now. She is as ready to be queen as anyone ever is. I’ve done my duty. I want to rest — with you.”
She put her arms around him, drawing herself in until they were face to face, chest to chest. With strenuous effort, he put his arms around her. Ageless eyes regarded each other with the same emotion as had been there when he helped her onto her wyvern that fatal day.
Finally, after so many years, they were free to satisfy their desire. Their lips met. The flame went out. As one, their hearts beat no more.