Love’s Eternal Flame

He’s dead, a concept I’m still having trouble grasping.

Gabriel showed up at my door, Charm in hand, I not immediately realizing it was not Castor. But on closer inspection I noticed more hair and the difference in his eyes. Gabe’s have never been as cold and calculating as his twin’s.

His words shocked me and I could not comprehend, my eyes wide in disbelief, my heart constricting as if it were caught in a vice. He had found Charm in an orphanage a hand ago and she had been staying with him because he did not know where I was. I had not even thought to give him my new address.

I didn’t understand what reason Castor would have for leaving our child at an orphanage, and then it hit me. He would have never left her there of his own free will. My realization of Castor’s death was imminent with Gabe’s words. He’d been murdered, found out that he was working against Phelps for the resistance. Dead. He couldn’t be.

I insisted on seeing the body but Gabriel would have none of it, saying I should be spared such a sight. He then handed me a package, one spattered with blood. Castor’s blood. It had been found in his things, a gift for me.

Within the paper wrapping were a set of robes, the most beautiful I had ever seen. Blue with hints of sable, veils, slippers and gloves. Charm too, had a set in pink and peach. Finally he was going to see me in something other then brown. I inwardly winced when I realized that he would not see me in them. It had taken death to finally find me in something brilliantly colorful.

Stunned silence was settled between us, until he lifted to his feet to take his leave, telling me that Charm hadn’t spoken a word since. Oh, kings, had she seen what happened to her father? My terror at being left alone was extinguished in the knowledge that it was her I should be worried about. It was she I had to protect.

There was an eerie quiet between us, Charming and I, and although she would not speak to me, she did take long moments to stare at me, before she would again receded into her own little world. That night I held her tight, afraid that if I let her go, she might disappear forever, just as he father had done.

The day of the pyre was undoubtedly the hardest day of my life.

After even seeing the body from a distance I realized why Gabe had refused to allow me to view it. I stood there long after the body had turned to ash, long after the coals of wood had gone cold and the smoke had dissipated in the wind. It was late when Gabe and Zarah walked me back to the house, offering to take Charm for the night so I could grieve. I agreed, knowing I would be no good to her this night.

I can still see him, like the afterimage of recent dream, calling to me, whispering my name so that only I can hear. The last word from him I had was a misty coated, single phrase in a mirror. Forgive me. But It is I who should have begged for forgiveness.