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The distance between Aidonia’s former Maiden of War and the rest of the world was a yawning chasm- too far across to ever reach.
This was only natural, when her touch brought nothing less than certain and immediate death.
There were only two times when this distance was breached. When she did it herself, in her duty as a Chrysos Heir to defend the city of Okhema and it’s residents- and when other people did it instead.
The second kind of touch scared Castorice almost as much as the first.
Because... sometimes, it was simply an accident. Someone walked a bit too close without realizing, didn’t know who she was and went to shake her hand, tried to grab something from her not knowing the limits of her curse...
Tragedies, but unintentional ones. Events that spurred her to maintain greater awareness of her surroundings to ensure they did not happen again.
But sometimes... People knew exactly who she was and what her touch brought.
And they reached out anyways.
It was rare- But not rare enough. The times were turbulent, and the future uncertain enough that there were those who simply decided.... that a warm death was a good end.
Castorice was usually able to pull away in time, when she realized their intentions.
...The few times she hadn’t were seared into her memory, never to be forgotten.
Those that attempted to make use of her curse in such a way tried to take her by surprise. To sneak up on her and grab a touch when she was unsuspecting. So that the deed could be done before anyone realized what was happening.
They usually didn’t ask for it.
And they certainly didn’t plan meetings for when it’d happen.
This was far, far from a standard situation of any kind. But extraordinary circumstances led to exceptional situations.
The man seated in the modest meeting room was tall- about as tall as Phainon, if she had to guess. He had black hair that faded to a bloody red at the tips, old bandages tied tight around his limbs and hands, and held a sheathed sword close to his chest.
Blade. A man from beyond the sky- a so-called “Stellaron Hunter” who had come here specifically for the purpose of meeting her .
Castorice took a deep breath and walked in. His visible eye turned to look at her.
“Are you the one with the deathly touch?” he asked, voice a low rasp.
She nodded, already feeling unsettled by his eerily calm demeanor. “I am. And you are the one who has been cursed to never die?”
Blade smirked, but he didn’t look happy. “Punishment for a grave sin committed hundreds of years ago... For a long time, my greatest desire has been to find a way to end it.” his eyes were cold as ice as he said the words.
Castorice sat down across from him. The atmosphere felt tense. “I do not want to use my curse to kill you. To use it on humans is.... excessively unpleasant.”
“But you still came to this meeting.” He said. Not a question, but a statement.
She looked down. “I did. I suppose... I was curious. And I thought it best to tell you in person.”
He closed his eyes, sighing before setting his sword aside and standing up. “You’d be doing me a favor. My lifespan should’ve run out over six centuries ago, and my mind has deteriorated significantly in that time. And if the result of this- whatever it may be- is undesirable, then Elio would not have let me come.”
Castorice had no idea who Elio was, but Blade said the words with such certainty that she assumed he was correct- Or at least that he must believe what he was saying wholeheartedly.
The idea of someone living so long beyond their natural lifespan... she understood how it could cause the mind to deteriorate. Though she had no idea how such a thing might have come to be in the first place, perhaps it was fated to be just another mystery of what lay beyond the sky.
She took a deep breath.
“There is no guarantee this will work.” she said. “The powers that keep you alive may be stronger than that which comes from my curse. It could have no effect whatsoever.”
Blade closed his eyes. “I am prepared for that outcome. If this does not work, then it simply means my search is not yet over.” He extended his left hand forward.
...
That was that, then.
This was always the worst part- even if she was just touching a Titankin, bereft of all life except the will of strife, she hated invoking her curse. To knowingly move forward to bring death.
Castorice kept her mind distant from her body, thinking about what she’d eaten today, the warm breeze outside, and projects in progress around the city.
Her hand touched his, feather light, and she waited for the curse to take effect.
...
There was no reaction.
Their skin was in direct contact for ten seconds, yet the man before her did not collapse or convulse, and showed no signs of pain.
She pulled her hand back quickly- another fluke, like the one at the grove?
Or....
Castorice slowly put her hand back onto his, settling it a bit more firmly this time.
Still no reaction.
She could feel his pulse under her fingertips. The sensation was so alien it left her reeling.
“It didn’t.... work.” Castorice said. The words and the sight before her utterly incongruous with her known reality.
She was touching someone. And they weren’t dead.
All too quickly, Blade removed his hand, looking at it solemnly. “Another failure... it seems I will have to continue with Elio’s plan.”
He turned around to collect his sword, and Castorice found herself reaching out, craving that connection to return.
Without another word he picked up his namesake, and began walking towards the door.
He hadn’t died when she touched him.
“W-wait-!” Castorice found herself saying without meaning to, causing him to look back at her, impassive yet questioning.
It seemed so foolish. To ask.
But if not now then... when? When else could something like this possibly happen, than here with a person who couldn’t die and would welcome it gladly if it came?
He didn’t die when she touched him.
Where no matter what happened... she could feel a warm touch.
The thought made her to burn with shame for desiring such a thing. But the knowledge of you won’t get this chance again pushed her forward.
“C-could... could I hold your hand. Again.” she stuttered.
For a minute, there was no response. She waited for him to scoff, rejecting the notion outright. Or to simply leave, closing the door in his wake.
Instead, what broke the silence was the sound of a small exhale. Castorice looked up to see that Blade had turned back, the hand that wasn’t holding his sword stretched out to her.
An offering.
He didn’t look upset.
Timidly, she placed her hand on top of his, reveling in the unfamiliar sensation. Warmth under her fingers. Something moving- living, touching her. A pulse she could feel beating in a steady rhythm.
And she could keep her hand there for as long as she wanted- the vitality beneath it did not deplete or disappear.
She inhaled sharply, feeling overcome with unknown emotions. Then Castorice realized- there were tears streaming down her face.
When had she started crying?
“I take it you’re not used to touch.” Blade said, bringing her out of her thoughts.
Castorice held back a sob, using her free hand to reach up and wipe away the flowing tears. “N-no. I don’t... it’s not safe for me to touch people, and when I do they just-”
She was cut off by the feeling of a sudden pressure atop her head, and raised her eyes to see that Blade had put down his sword, and was patting her with his now-free hand. His expression was still impassive, but there was a hint of something... fond.
He looked down. “This cursed, undying body of mine... it finds most of its uses in combat. A blade- a weapon that can never break. It’s... not often, that there are other upsides to it.” His voice sounded tired and worn, but not unhappy.
She could hardly process the words.
Castorice had never felt something like this before- the sensation of a hand patting her head. Always, always, when she touched people it was with her hands- and when they touched her, they never aimed for her head. A sign of respect, perhaps.
The tears kept flowing down her cheeks. She didn’t know if she could stop them now.
It was nice.
The feeling of a soft, kind touch was nice.
It was better than being bundled in the finest blankets, bathing in the warmest waters, or resting in the most comfortable chairs.
Castorice sobbed again, unable to suppress it anymore.
It was overwhelming. It was wonderful.
“I- I’m sorry. I just.. th-this doesn’t. I don’t-” She babbled, desperately grasping for some way to save face.
He moved his hand to clasp hers more firmly, and slowly brought her into a hug. Telegraphing all his movements so she had the chance to pull away.
She didn’t.
This was something she’d never dreamed of happening. Not to her. She’d seen hugs- family, friends, and allies alike embracing each other as casually as a smile. But hugs weren’t for her to have. Even in her wildest fantasies, where her touch did not kill and she could live normally with her closest friends and allies....
She couldn’t imagine hugging anyone.
But here he was- This Stellaron Hunter from beyond the stars, giving her a hug for the first time in her life.
Castorice felt herself leaning into it as much as she could- desperate to savor this like a person starved.
Her sobs didn’t stop, they only continued getting louder and wetter and staining onto Blade’s shirt as he held her close.
Amid her unceasing torrent of emotions, she wondered if he had experience caring for people. The man had not shown any panic or scorn at her pitiful display, and held her gently and securely. Like an anchor in a storm.
Castorice wouldn’t really be able to tell if he did or not. She didn’t have the least bit of knowledge for this sort of thing.
But he nevertheless held her in his arms as she attempted to return the hug with unsteady motions and shaking hands. Until her tears ran dry, sobs coming slowly to a stop. And even after that, until her emotions settled and she was simply able to appreciate the embrace- the first one she’d ever known.
It was warm.
It felt safe.
Blade hadn’t gotten what he’d come for today, in meeting her. When he left this place, his search for an end to his endless life would continue across the stars.
But she was happy he hadn’t. So, so unbearably happy that things ended up this way. That she’d been given this chance.
And somehow... he didn’t seem too upset things had turned out like this, either.