Total pages in book: 126
Estimated words: 123065 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 615(@200wpm)___ 492(@250wpm)___ 410(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 123065 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 615(@200wpm)___ 492(@250wpm)___ 410(@300wpm)
My steps falter.
I almost trip but catch myself.
And I keep walking until I’m at the beach. The newer immortals created from our blood are staring out at the ocean at attention. They have our blood, they have the need to ascend, but they never will because we created them here, but that doesn’t mean they don’t pine for Olympus, for a home they will never visit.
All of them are dressed in red velvet tunics with black sandals. They have no cape; they haven’t been alive long enough to deserve one.
You have to earn your cape in battle; you have to earn your place among the ancients.
Not just take it because you covet it.
They wear half gold masks that cover only their eyes and part of their noses. Their faces remain calm as they watch the waves and wait.
This is the last time for a while that we will work together. They’ll fight again after my final sacrifice and ascension. They’ll hope that eventually this will end. It won’t. A god must ascend. Every few thousand years. And we must protect what is ours. Our families. Our children. Humanity.
Even if we are sick of it.
Am I? Am I finally done with this?
I can’t tell anymore.
Chest aching, twisting, burning, I walk toward the cave.
Cleo is sitting on the bed watching me walk, her eyes lock onto mine in a way that causes my mouth to go dry.
I stop at the entrance, needing a moment before stepping in and going to the bed. “Did Enki explain to you what will happen next?”
She bites her bottom lip. “Y-yes, but, can I make a request? Maybe?”
“Have you written all of the names of the children of Chaos?”
She nods. Her skin is pale. I want to touch it, but my hands are about to be covered in her blood in less than twenty-four hours.
It feels wrong.
“Your request then?” I cross my arms over my chest to keep from touching her.
She’s in her black silk robe.
I know she’s naked underneath.
Her gaze darts back and forth between my mouth and eyes before she looks down at her lap, wringing her small hands together. “Can it just be you?”
I steel my expression. “For the ceremony?”
She nods. “I just don’t want all of them touching me, but you’ve already—”
“—touched you,” I finish for her.
Does she realize what she’s asking?
For me to ready her for someone else? By myself?
Just how strong does she think I am?
“Yes,” I blurt before I can stop myself.
I hold up my right hand in a fist.
The other two, I know will take that as a sign to give me their backs.
Cleo is shaking. I hold out my hand and help her to her feet, she’s so warm where I’m cold, and yet I feel her warmth spreading through my palm.
“Wait here,” I whisper then walk over to where Enki left the paint and her golden dress. It’s simple and clasps at the shoulders, with a sheer white veil that falls like a cape down her back.
But it’s not time to dress yet.
I reach for the blue paint. It has specks of gold that reflect the stars shining down on her, the heavens blessing the sacrifice.
Soon Tyrell will be covered in it.
I squeeze my eyes shut and lean against the table for a brief moment before slamming a hand against the cave wall. It leaves an imprint, the first of its kind on those hallowed walls.
Never have I acted out of frustration before a ceremony, and now there would be proof for an eternity of this entire moment, I walk over to Cleo and hold her by the hand.
So warm, even to me.
She grips mine tightly, and I pull her toward the mark made by my hand and stand behind her, lifting her hand in mine. Hers is so small in comparison. I press it there and whisper, “You’ll always be in the palm of my hand. For an eternity.”
Her eyes dart up to me. “What about after?”
“I am after.” I dip my fingers into the blue paint and draw a line around her small fingers, making the edges of them blue.
The golden bits of stardust press into the outline of her hand and light up.
And like that they’ll stay.
But she will not.
My chest aches like a thousand hands are squeezing my heart over and over, forcing it to beat.
This must be done.
I will have no regrets but maybe this moment, where I see an eternity on the wall of that cave. I allow myself a few seconds to imagine a world where I was allowed to have someone by my side.
A beautiful chaotic world indeed.
But that is not my purpose. My purpose is to love everyone equally.
Even by doing this, I’m favoring her, by touching her, by spending time with her, and in all my years of sacrifice, never has it been just me and me alone that uses the paint.