by Chii Rempel
I wonder how mad Xavier is at me. He hasn’t sought me out once yesterday. There’s rarely a whole day we don’t see each other. It feels … wrong. I know I behaved despicably, and my anger has long given way to regret. The only thing I want is for us to make up and be friends again. Even if friends should be the only thing we will ever be.
I stroll between the shelves and my eyes fall on the enormous leather-bound history books, that’s when I feel it. A coldness slivers into the room, that same coldness I felt in my chambers the other day. It sends an unpleasant shiver down my spine. I can see my breath coming out in white puffs before me and I instinctively wrap my arms around me to keep me warm. There is this strange pull again. I can feel it in my stomach, how it wants to drag me across the room. This time, I have no idea where it is taking me. The skull is still securely resting on the mantlepiece in my room, I don’t think it is strong enough to pull me in all the way across the castle’s ring. But maybe it’s not the skull doing the pulling.
I don’t know what else to do but to follow it. It’s bright outside, but it’s the uncomfortable kind of brightness. The sun is hiding behind an impenetrable wall of white clouds, turning the world beneath it blindingly colourless. The tugging is only getting stronger as I leave Trelburg. I am not paying anybody or anything any mind as I follow it. Maybe I can finally figure out what has been happening to me. Maybe I finally get to see my father.
I wind up at the clearing in the middle of the forest. It seems to become a frequent occurrence lately. The daylight takes away the magic of this place, rendering it bleak and unwelcoming. There are no flowers left, only the faint green of sparse grass on a muddy bed. The pulling stops and so do I. I am standing in the middle of the clearing, the circle of trees towering over me on every side. The place doesn’t feel the same. Why is it that the night keeps all the good things to itself? The promises of the new day keep remaining a disappointment.
I look around, waiting for something to happen. The wind is howling above me, shaking the crowns of the trees in a whisper of a language I don’t understand. Down here, it’s calm. Although I can feel the cold press against my clothes, licking at my skin, I feel strangely unfazed by it. Like I am just a bystander, a spectator to a scene I am not part of.
I don’t know how long I’m standing here. There’s no telling the time as I can’t make out the movement of the sun behind the sea of clouds. My fingers are so cold I can barely feel them. I imagine I resemble a marble statue by now, frozen in time for other people’s delight.
A sudden flash of greenish light catches my attention. It is the same eerie light I’ve seen here before. And it its attached to the same eerie creature.
“You again,” I breathe, barely able to form words with my icy lips.
“you again”
The face of the small floating creature cracks open to reveal a way too big mouth under those round eyes. I can’t say why but I feel strangely fond of that mysterious thing.
“Oh, you’ve brought friends,” I observe as I look around, finding myself surrounded by the flying big-eyed light-balls. There’s a fog drifting over the grass that hasn’t been there before.
“oh you’ve brought friends,” a canon of metallic sounding voices echoes back at me.
From somewhere, I muster a small laugh and shake my head. I might be going crazy.
“Don’t get too familiar with them. Feisty little beasts, those things.”
The husky voice from behind me has me reeling around in surprise. It has a painfully familiar sound to it. As I look into the pale eyes of a face I thought I’d never be able to see again, my knees give out and I fall to the ground with a sob.
“Dad,” I whisper, looking up into the wavering image of my father.
A smile forms on his lips and although it doesn’t reach his eyes, my heart leaps with joy at having it directed at me one last time. “Alexander.”
I can’t believe he’s here. I can’t believe I am talking to him. Maybe I am going crazy, but if that’s true, then I am at least going to be happy while I’m at it.
“Alexander. My son. I finally found you,” he says, his voice sounding weak and far away. It’s freaky that he doesn’t move his lips while talking, but this is definitely his voice sounding in my ears.
“You have,” I confirm and pick myself up from the ground. I don’t want him to think me weak.
“I don’t have much time.”
I nod understandingly. There might not be much that I know about ghosts, but I can imagine it’s not that easy keeping a corporeal form for someone who has none.
“I need to speak to you, it is important,” the ghost of my father continues.
I nod again, indicating for him to go on.
“It is important,” he repeats.
“Yes, I understand. Dad, please, what is that you want to tell me?”
“I need to speak to you.” His eyes become even more distant and I feel slightly panicked he might vanish before we’re finished. Funny how I am afraid of a ghost disappearing.
I step closer to him. It is strange to realise that he doesn’t radiate any heat, like a normal body would. Or any coldness. He doesn’t radiate anything, it is like he isn’t there at all. He is merely an image, a flicker of colours forming a familiar shape.
“Dad, please.”
“Alexander. My son.”
I wish I could take his hands and make him look at me. It feels like I am losing him again. “Dad, you need to tell me what you came here for. Is it something about mum? About Claudius?”
“…Claudius.” His voice seems to tremble at the name.
“Yes,” I try to encourage him, “Claudius, your brother.”
“My brother … my,” he pauses, eyes turning white. “Murderer.”
I wish I could say I am shocked, but I am not. It would be the decent thing to do to at least doubt my uncle was capable of murdering his own brother. However, I find myself able to breathe for what feels like the first time in over a month. It is like an invisible weight has been lifted off my shoulders. Claudius killed my father. Of courses he did.
The rage that follows this awareness is not something I find easy to deal with. It hits me hard, unyielding and unprepared. My bastard of an uncle killed my father.
“Fuck,” is the only thing that leaves my lips. I don’t know what to say. I don’t know how to proceed.
“What do you want me to do?” I ask.
My father is only barely visible anymore. His skin is impossibly white and I can see more of the grass behind him than I can see his face.
“Avenge me, my son…”
His words leave the whisper of an echo and then he is gone. I realise that I am alone, the vættirs having vanished with him – or before him, I didn’t notice. I put my face in my hands and let myself cry. Out of grief, out of sadness, out of anger. I need to let everything go. And then I need to make a plan.
15
Xavier
Xander storms into my room without knocking. My first intention is to scold him for disregarding my privacy – not that it actually bothers me, he could come here in the middle of the night and I wouldn’t care – but after not talking for a whole day I feel like a little caution is in order. Upon seeing his face, however, all nonsense of decorum fly to the wind. His skin is paler than usual, his eyes are widened, and he appears to be trembling.
“Xander.” I jump from my desk and run over to meet him, just as he lets the door fall shut. “What happened?”
He stumbles forward and I reach out my arms to let him catch himself. I nearly flinch at how cold he is.
“Bloody hell, Xander, you’re freezing!”
Immediately, I let go of him to fetch my blanket and wrap the shivering prince in it.
“Th – Thanks,” he stutters. His eyes meet mine and I feel something melt inside me that I can see reflected in them.
“I’m sorry,” we say in unison.
There’s a moment of silence where the words hang in the room,
suddenly sounding so utterly ridiculous, that I can’t help it. I let out a laugh. Xander watches me, his face becoming softer, even though he still looks pale. We’re standing a little awkwardly in front of my bed, so I decide to sit down and wait for his next move.
“I – something happened,” he says and sits down next to me, wrapped in my blanket.
“I figured.”
He looks at me and all humour leaves my eyes, replaced by growing worry. I place my hand on top of the blanket where I assume his hand must be. He conjures up a strained smile and leans closer to me.
“Could you please fetch Arcadia?” he asks. “I don’t want to tell this story twice.”
***
“Your father really said that?” Arcadia asks, after Xander has told us what had happened to him. It wasn’t difficult to find her, with her being draped over Xander’s divan in the opposite room, another book in hand. I just had to mention Xander’s name for her to come running. “He used those exact words?”
“Well,” Xander says, looking between us, “he said ‘murderer’. How many interpretations does this word have exactly?”
We are all sitting on my bed, Xander resting against the headboard while Cadi and I watch him from the end of the mattress.
Cadi breathes out slowly. She has her chin resting atop of her hand, a clear sign that she is in deep thought.
“What are you planning to do with that information?” I ask.
“Isn’t it obvious?” Xander’s eyes flicker with determination. “I am going to avenge my father. I am going to kill Claudius.”
I nearly choke on my own spit. Cadi seems equally baffled, although she expresses herself with more dignity.
“You cannot kill the king, Xander! That is not an option.”
He fixes her with a challenging stare. “Watch me.”
“That’s regicide! You’d be put in prison for life, Xander. It doesn’t matter if you are the prince or a pig-farmer, if you kill the king, your title won’t save you from this sentence.”
Xander sits up straight, his face glowing with anger.
“I don’t care about my sentence! Even if I have to spend the rest of my life locked up in the dungeons, I can’t let him get away with that. He killed my father, Arcadia!”
“And he will pay for that! Legally, how it is supposed to be. We just need to find proof, real evidence. We need to be smart about this.”
Xander hisses and lets himself fall back against the headboard. He would look more intimidating if he wasn’t curled up in my blanket like a giant worm.
“We don’t stand a chance if we take the case to court,” he sighs. “My uncle has his people everywhere. And honestly, I don’t have the endurance to fight him legally. I just want to see him gone, even if I lose myself doing it. What’s my life worth anyway, as long as he rules? He’ll just make it hell. I have nothing to lose.”
Cadi just blinks at him, speechless. “Xander –”
“Cadi, could you leave us alone for a minute?” I snap.
I feel Arcadia’s eyes on me, but I don’t avert my gaze from Xander. The mattress dips as she moves to stand up. As soon as I hear the door fall shut, I fist my hands into the blanket around Xander’s shoulders and yank him to me forcefully. Our noses nearly touch as his eyes widen in surprise, but I don’t care.
“Take it back,” I growl. My breath is coming in puffs, as I try to rule my anger and disappointment back in.
“I don’t –”
“Take. It. Back.”
He tries to wiggle out of my grip, but I am stronger than him. Always were. It’s paying off right now. “Xavier, I have no idea –”
Frustrated, I shove him back against the headboard. My nostrils are flaring as I spit out: “Your life is worth fucking everything, Alexander! Don’t you dare speak like that in front of Cadi or me ever again, you hear that? You are not throwing your life away because some things are not going according to plan right now. It will get better! It always gets better, if you fight for it. And fight for it we will, but sensibly. Without any of us throwing their lives away. Did you already forget what I told you? You are my sense in life, Xander. You cannot take that away from me. You cannot let yourself be taken from me.”
I am afraid I might have said too much, but there’s no turning back now. I am just so angry, I don’t know if I want to punch him or kiss him. His eyes are comically wide as he continues to stare at me. He opens his mouth, gaping, just to close it again.
I let myself fall back into the mattress, all fight leaving me slowly and making space for exhaustion and a rawness I don’t know how to place.
“Xavier,” Xander finally mutters.
“Xander.”
I feel a warm hand on my knee which makes me sit up slowly. I put my own hand above Xander’s pale one and squeeze. His eyes are a forest after a storm. Unblinking, he moves closer to me.
“I’m sorry,” he breathes.
I nod. “You should be. You have no idea what you mean to us. To me.”
There is wonder in his eyes as he continues to stare at me.
“Enlighten me,” he whispers.
I feel my cheeks heat up as my body finally realises how close he is. I swallow and avert my gaze, the green of his eyes is killing me.
“And he walks the whole circle of creation, from Heaven through the Dirt to Hell, just to be with her”, I mutter, a little embarrassed. I wait for him to say something. As the silence continues, I finally look at him, just to have my heart skip a beat at the sight. His look is one of awe and wonder.
“That was a quote from Cyndranet and Varya,” he squeaks. “I thought you didn’t like poetry.”
I give him a smile that I hope looks smug. “I don’t, but you do.”
“You read it because of me?” Xander ask disbelievingly.
I shrug but squeeze his hand once again. “I needed to know what all the fuss is about.”
“And?”
“And what?”
He rolls his eyes. “Did you like it? The passage you quoted is one of my favourites … he has to conquer all these earthly obstacles, before he can be with the one he loves. But unfortunately, he is too late. Just before he can reach her, she get’s a false account of his death, claiming he perished in the attempt to save her, and kills herself to follow him. Of course, he is not really dead, so now he has to actually die to be with her. It’s so romantic, don’t you think?”
“It’ tragic, that’s what it is.”
He pouts at my words.
“Don’t you think it’s the biggest proof of love you can give, if you can’t live in a world where the other does no longer exist? Would you not follow her to the grave?”
I want to look away, but I force myself to meet Xander’s gaze for my next words.
“I would follow him to the grave.”
He blinks a few times. My heart is pounding so hard in my chest I think it will leave a hole in my ribcage.
“… what did you just say?”
Exhaling slowly, I close my eyes for a second.
“You heard me.”
“I’m not sure that wasn’t just wishful thinking.”
My lips tug upwards at that. I’m not sure what is happening right now and if I let myself think about it too much, I’ll probably destroy everything again. So, I don’t let myself think. Actions have always been my strong suit after all. I lean forward until our noses touch. His skin feels cold compared to mine. It’s nice. His breath hitches and I feel it against my lips. This is it. This is where I was always meant to be.
A loud knock on the door forces up apart quickly. “Boys, can I come back in? How long do I have to stand here?”
I look at the door, then back to Xander. His rapid breaths match mine and as our eyes meet, I see them shine. A laugh escaped my mouth. I can’t help it, there’s a pool of happiness in my stomach and I feel giddy because of it. Xander joins me, his laugh easy and free. I did that. I put that laugh there. My face must be so red right now.
I s
tand up and walk over to the door, opening it only a little. Arcadia is standing in the corridor, her hands on her hips, an eyebrow raised expectantly.
Something in my face must have given me away, as her expression practically melts upon seeing me. I clear my throat. “We’ll be with you in a second. Care for a bite to eat? We could walk down into town?”
“Yeah,” she says, a grin plastering her face. “Sounds like a plan. I’ll be waiting for you boys downstairs.”
Then she leans forward and whispers: “Well done, Xavier.”
I close the door in her face. Stupid Cadi, now my face feels even hotter. I take a deep breath, before turning to face Xander. Only, before I can make out what happens, two arms wind themselves around my neck and I am being pressed into the door by a warm body, as cool lips meet mine for a fleeting second.
My breath is knocked out of me immediately. Xander reels back a bit to look at me, but his arms remain hooked around my neck. He looks a little uncertain. I think my heart is bursting from joy.
“Xander,” I whisper.
“I couldn’t let my chance slip away,” he explains, biting his lip.
I smirk and grab his waist, pressing him even closer to me.
He lets out a surprised squeak. I duck my head and catch the sound with my lips. It’s hard and wet and perfectly imperfect. I can feel one of his hands tangle itself into my dreadlocks and I wind my arms further around him. As his lips open to deepen the kiss, I let out a groan. Did kissing always feel so good? I can’t remember. I don’t want to remember. Nothing exists anymore except for Xander’s cinnamon smell, Xander’s hands in my hair and Xander’s lips on mine.
16
Xander
I kissed Xavier. I really kissed Xavier! Fucking finally. I wanted to stay glued to him forever. Who knew that kissing could feel so great? Well, I bloody well hoped that kissing Xavier would feel that great. I’ve only ever kissed Arcadia – when we were younger, just to see how it feels. It had been all right, not uncomfortable, but not exactly the stuff of fairy-tales either. Kissing Xavier, however …
I should stop thinking about it lest I want to deal with a downstairs problem. That prospect doesn’t sound very appealing right now, as I am summoned to speak to my mother and uncle. I don’t have to guess what they want to talk about. After our kiss yesterday, Xavier and I went downstairs to meet Arcadia hand in hand … and didn’t let go for the entire evening. It still makes me blush, thinking about it. I guess we haven’t been exactly subtle. I was always afraid of my parents finding out about me. I am not afraid anymore. Had I known that one single kiss from Xavier would grant me so much confidence, I’d have jumped him years ago.
