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Joshua stood pensively on the deck of the Hideaway. He was leaning against the railing, all tension drained from his body. The skies were still their peculiar shade of magenta, even more prominent now with the destruction of the final crystal in the kingdom of Waloed. The end of the world was quite possibly neigh, but even so, he looked almost peaceful for once. She knew him too well to believe such a thing to be true.His arms were crossed defensively and the look in his eyes was distant, as if he were somewhere else entirely. Somewhere she could never reach him. She had seen that look often in their travels through Valisthea and though for all of her want and will, seldom had she been able to ease him of the cares placed upon him as the Dominant of Phoenix or the heir of the Rosarian throne. He carried the weight of the world, alongside his brother Clive and the other Dominants. As much as she wanted to help him bear that weight, she feared she never could. She was but a lowly knight. Power to reshape the world on such a scale had not been given to her. But once, just once, she remembered a time 17 years ago when she had succeeded. Not in changing the world, no. But she had eased the weight he carried. Even though the time was brief.
—
She had been only seven then, he four years her senior. She was still too young to perform the duties of her order, The Undying, but she was learning quickly how to wield blade, concoct poultices, and create tonics of healing. She had spent long hours in her studies that day, fully expecting to fall asleep without reservation, but for a reason unknown she remained awake and alert. She thought she heard noises outside of her room and with little hope of respite, she had decided instead to venture forth and uncover the mystery of the growing calamity outside of her room.
She got up and wrapped herself in her little night coat. Still feeling a bit chilled, she went to the chest at the foot of her bed to retrieve her favourite shawl, the one of cream colouring with diamond patterns on its edge. She lit her bedside candle and surreptitiously opened her door. She wandered down the halls, finding not a soul, but the noises only increased as she progressed, gradually guiding her closer to its source.
She knew that she was close when she suddenly encountered people, all of them running to and fro, each grim faced and resolute. In the distance she heard a new sound, one like that of a child sobbing, unable to be comforted. She followed the sound, careful to place herself out of the way of the adults she came across. She was almost there now. Turning into the next room, the infirmary, she saw the cause of such commotion. She saw him.
He was such a small thing. Despite his seniority, he had been no bigger than her. His curling hair was a bright strawberry blond and his blue eyes glistened with fresh tears as he released another aching sob from deep within his chest. His clothes were soaked in blood and a flurry of the Undying were swarming him as bees, trying their best to find if anything unseen might ail him. He remained oblivious to them all. A hurt unseen did beset him, but it was not one by which any aid from the physickers could provide him. None of the grown ups seemed to understand.
“Jote!” a woman exclaimed. “Go back to bed! You’ll only hinder us here.”
She jumped at the sound of her name and almost did as she was bidden. But she turned back to look at him before she left. He was staring at her, no longer sobbing as he had before. He wiped his nose with the cuff of his sleeve, smearing a line of blood across his face. She wrestled with the choice before her and before she had time to reason herself out of it, she went to his side.
“Jote! Didn’t I tell you to go back to bed?” the woman chastised. “You’ll only be underfoot here. This is the crowned prince of Rosaria.”
Jote’s eyes widened. This was Joshua Rosfield? This small broken hearted little boy was her liege lord? The one in whom their entire order had sworn to protect at any and all costs. The one in whom an entire nation’s hopes and dreams rested upon. He was the Phoenix?
“No.”
Everyone stopped immediately at the sound of his voice. Joshua wiped his eyes and regained somewhat of his composure.
“I want her to stay.”
Some of the grownups frowned on the idea, but no one ushered her from the room. Joshua’s word was law.
“Here,” the woman handed her a damp cloth. “See if you can clean him up a bit. He won’t let us.”
She took the cloth, now unsure of what to do. Before she had known exactly needed to be done. She needed to be at his side, to talk with him, comfort him however she may. Now his bloodstained face was intimidating. Almost frightening, but for the kindness in his eyes.
“What is your name?” he asked, putting on a brave face.
“Jote, your Grace.” She curtsied before him.
“Jote,” he said as if testing out the sound of the word. “I think that’s a lovely name.”
She blushed a deep shade of red. “Thank you, your Grace.” She mustered up a bit of courage. “Would you mind if I clean your face?”
He nodded, giving her his consent.
She began to wipe the dirt and blood from his eyes gently, oh so gently. He was like a startled bird. He flinched at every touch. He needed to be away from the flurry of the adults around him. They meant only the best for him, but they couldn’t sense what he needed at that moment. Not like she could. As she carefully persisted in tending to him, he gradually calmed and the tension began to drain from him.
Once the others seemed satisfied that his condition was stable and that he was pleased to be left alone with the girl, they all left one by one as she quietly did that which was her duty and her want. She was washing his hands, removing the dirt beneath his nails when he spoke to her again.
“My father is dead.”
She stopped. The room was silent save for the soft swishing of the candlelight blown about by an unseen draft.
She wanted to say something, but couldn’t. The words would not form.
“My father’s dead,” he said again, his voice shaking. “My mother is gone. My brother, he, he’s…I don’t know where he is or if he is even alive. They’re all gone. Everyone I love. Is gone.”
He seemed as though he would start to cry again, but he did not. He just gazed into the candlelight. Present in body, but not in spirit, his mind lost to the horrors he had witnessed only hours ago.
She sat with him still holding his hand that she had tried to clean. Finally, she unwrapped her shawl and draped it around his shoulders. Gingerly, he touched the fabric.
“It’s so warm,” he said at last.
“It’s yours.”
“But,”
She gave his hand a gentle squeeze. “It was given to me when I first came here. My parents were killed due to the Blight and I was left alone until I made my way here. I had no family, no one here to claim as my own. But one of the ladies of the Undying gave me this. She said I was part of this family now and that I should never feel alone. So long as I have this shawl with me, I never have. I know that here I will be cared for. Here I have all that I need.”
He studied it in quiet contemplation. “I couldn’t possibly accept such a gift.”
“I want you to,” she insisted. “So long as you are with us, so long as you are with me, I will be your family.”
He touched the shawl again, rubbing it between his fingers.
She wasn’t sure he would accept her gift, but she had to give him something. This boy who was left with nothing. Maybe he was the future of Rosaria but he was still a boy. A boy who felt an endless depth of loss and loneliness. She couldn’t stand to think of him suffering in such a way. Even if it meant relinquishing one of her most prized possessions, she would gladly do so. Just to see his burden lifted even the smallest amount.
She looked toward him, expectant, but of what she didn’t know. He met her gaze then, not with words or a look, but an embrace. He held her firmly, the way one holds to an anchor when tossed about by a perilous and merciless sea. She wrapped her arms around him, resting her head on his shoulder.
“Thank you,” he whispered.
With tears forming in her own eyes, she could only smile in return.
—
“Your Grace, it is time for your medicine again.”
Her words didn’t startle him. If anything he seemed almost expectant to hear her voice behind him. She supposed it was not too strange a thing. He had been at the mercy of her tonics for years now. He must know she would come; she was as always, consistent as clockwork. But even clockwork could not be counted on to produce the same consistent results always.
“Your Grace, might I speak with you? There is…something on my mind.”
He turned to face her. Her eyes were downcast, her hands timidly holding his newest batch of medicine. She placed it in a pouch at her waist, her hands shaking as she did so. Her hands had never shook before. Through all the skirmishes, trials, and tribulations of their journey, not once had her body betrayed her as it did now.
He noticed her trembling but spoke not of it. He knew what she had come to ask. He knew that he could not give it to her. He would not.
“If you have come to talk me out of going, Jote, my mind is set. I will not yield on this. I am going with Clive to face Ultima. I cannot leave him alone to face so perilous a task. As your would be king, I ask that you honour my decision.”
She stood still as stone. Her eyes were no longer downcast but peering into his own. Her face held no emotion. If not for the quiver in her voice, he would never have known.
“As you wish, your Grace.”
She turned from him in one swift motion, but he could not stand to let her go. Not like this. He had pushed her away for so long, always careful to keep her at a comfortable distance. Each time he had done so had broken his heart, but it was a burden he was willing to bear if it would keep her own heart intact. All of his efforts to keep her attachment from growing it seemed had failed. He knew that to love him as she did would only end in grief. The moment his pain became too great to bear and his Eikon failed him he would be no more. The mercy of the Phoenix was what sustained him. Each hour he had was held in the grasp of the fiery bird. But he could never have anticipated just how much this would hurt. He could not stand to see her with her back turned to him, the sound of her heart breaking.
“Come, Jote.” He spoke softly, calling her back to him. “I would have you speak your mind to me. Even if I know we shall not agree.”
She turned slowly, tears adorning her cheeks. He closed the distance between them, reaching out to her, cradling her head in his hands. Tenderly, he wiped the tears from her eyes.
“Do you weep so for the fear of the loss of your king? Or that you have failed me somehow? I can assure you, you have not.”
Her voice hitched as she tried to speak. “I weep for fear of the loss of the one I love. One I have loved these many years. A love I carry, not only as is my duty as a knight of the Undying to my leige lord, but a love that I have for my friend, my family, my, my…Please, my lord, I beg of you, let me go with you. I know you have relieved me of my duty and in so doing believe that here in the Hideaway I shall be free to live as I so choose, no longer bound by the rules and obligations of my order.”
She grasped his hands, taking them in her own. “But it was not all duty that bound me to you. I chose to follow you, of my own free will. There is no greater want I have than to be by your side. Joshua…I…”
“I cannot give you that which you ask,” he replied. “You know this, Jote. This is my burden. As the Eikon of fire, as the Phoenix, as the heir of Rosaria. It is my duty, one I also perform out of love, out of my own will. Not only for the sake of my people, but for the one who has always been by my side for better or for worse. The one who has seen me at my greatest and also at my weakest. She has stayed steadfast through it all. It is for her continued free will that I fight the most earnestly for. That one day we may walk the hidden places of the world together as we once did, no longer bound by duty, but for want of its beauty.”
“What beauty is there,” she asked between fresh tears, “if you do not walk beside me?”
She wept, openly and in earnest. Try as he might, he could not comfort her, so he did that which she had done for him so many years ago. He simply held her. He held her until her grief became his own.
When at last her tears began to dry, he kissed her brow, a feeble gift for all the years she had so dutifully given him. He rested his head against hers, complacent just to be within her presence.
He opened his eyes and saw her staring back at him as if to memorize every feature of his countenance. Cupping her face in his hands he kissed her once more. Not as one who rewards a faithful servant, but as one given but a moment to convey the yearnings of a lifetime. A heart that had so wished to love her as she deserved, in the way he truly felt.
“Your Grace,” she stuttered, her cheeks aflush, “I had no idea you felt the same.”
“Surely you must have at least suspected? “ he asked, abruptly nervous.
“Hoped, yes. But it was only ever a wish. One I did not expect to come to fruition.”
He looked away, a blush colouring his face. “I am sorry that I could no sooner tell you.There was never any time. Always a new mystery to unravel, a war to stop. Through it all, you have never strayed from my thoughts. I only wish I could have given you all that you deserve, and more besides. A kiss is but a modest act. It could never be enough to convey all that lies within my heart.”
“It is enough, your Grace.” Thinking better of it, she tried again. “Joshua.”
He smiled as she said his name.
“If it pleases you, I would ask one more favour of you.”
“Anything, your Gra-, Joshua. If it is within my power, I will see it done.”
He undid the sash at his waist. The very same shawl he had been given as a child. The one given to him when he had been left with nothing. The one that had been the beginning of everything.
She looked at him, stunned.
“Whatever do you mean? To give me this…?”
He placed it in her open hands.
“Take care of it for me until I return. So long as this is with you, you will not be alone. I will walk beside you whithersoever you may go, so long as you keep it close. However far apart we may be. Whatever may separate us.”
The finality of his words suffocated her. She held the shawl close, struggling to breathe, to not fall into grief before him again.
“I will expect it again upon my return,” he continued, his voice lifting. “When all the world has been changed and mankind has been freed from the bonds of Ultima.”
She nodded, mastering her emotions once more. She would hold her head up high for him. She would no longer shed tears in his presence. She only wanted for him to remember her with a smile.
“Now,” he said, his voice breaking the dark clouds that had gathered over them, “did you not come to me with the intent to administer my medicines?”
She had forgotten entirely. Fumbling but a moment, she searched the pouches at her waist, at last finding the tonic he required.
“Clive helped to provide the ingredients for this batch. I pray that it may ease your hurts for the road that lies ahead.”
She handed the bottle to him and tied the sash she had been regifted around her waist.
He held the tonic aloft, observant of how the liquid sparkled in the light. “I may not have always expressed my gratitude for how you have aided me thus far. But I cannot leave you here without telling you how much I have appreciated every attempt you have made to help carry the weight from my shoulders. Thank you, Jote. Every act of kindness has always, ever been enough.”
He wrapped his arm around her, sheltering her from the grim fate that likely loomed before them. She leaned against him as they both cast their gaze towards clouded skies of pale magenta, rigid formality forgotten upon knowing these moments could be their last. Somehow here at the edge of the world’s end, here in the embrace of the Phoenix did she feel reborn.