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"Like a part of my chest was ripped out," she answers, her voice thick with sadness. "I thought it was despair since you were dying, but then you were breathing and okay, and it was still there. It's like he was weaved into my being and then forcibly removed."
"I feel like pieces of me are missing," I tell her honestly. "Like a part of me that was necessary for living has been lost." I stand fully, my legs aching and protesting the movement, and grab Viola's face. "I will push through this if you will, my numen."
"I will be here for you through all of this, Mace. Zeph told us he wanted us to let him go and live our lives. If you're willing to, I am too."
"What if I'm not willing to?"
"Then I will follow you into whatever abyss you want to journey to," she tells me earnestly. "It was so hard for me to say I love you because that word does not encompass what I feel for you. I couldn't put a name to it, but now I know. There is no me without you. I do not love you because that word is for anyone. Anyone can love." She leans forward and presses her forehead to mine, and I inhale her scent of battle of blood that seems wrong but so perfectly Viola Mistflow. "You are the bloodthat runs through my veins. You are the magic that keeps me safe. You are the breath in my lungs and the tears in my eyes. Every fucking piece of me belongs to you, Mace Nightroot. So, if you want to dive into the abyss and follow Zeph in his journey to the hereafter, I will be going with you. You cannot get rid of me that easily."
I press my lips to hers, tasting the sincerity of her words and the salt of her grief, letting her pour every feeling she cannot express into me. When I pull away, I nod, gripping the back of her neck.
"Okay."
"Okay?" she says with a chuckle. "Just okay?"
"Okay. Let's lay Zeph to rest."
Morrow startles me as he appears behind me and awkwardly scoops Zeph into his arms. "I will take him to the amphitheater. Get cleaned up and get some food, then we can have a ceremony."
I take Viola from Tulip, wrapping my arms around the other half of my soul. We lean on one another for support as we leave the courtyard, and the last place I saw my brother alive.
I'm not okay.
I don't know if I'll ever be okay.
I am not ready to make him a part of my past.
I am not ready for every story about Zeph to be something that happened and not speculation on what will.
I am not ready.
I am not ready.
But with Viola by my side, I will survive this.
Chapter 45
Viola
Over. Pick up some hair. Under.
Over. Pick up some hair. Under.
Over.
Under.
Over.
Under.
The singular white braid runs down the back of my head, the tail of it hitting right in the middle of my shoulder blades.
"Viola," Tulip calls from outside the door. "Everyone is waiting for you."
"They can wait a little longer," I say, my voice hoarse. Mace sits on the edge of our bed, head in his hands. He's changed into clean clothes, the rich purple of his shirt and dark black trousers reminiscent of something he would have worn as a Patrician in Ytopie. His hair is still wet from where I used my Water magic to rinse the blood of battle and brother from his body.
I gingerly pull on a solid black tank, careful not to jostle my arm too much. It turns out that, as the God of Spring, I can heal myself. It's just a little slower going than healing another. The tank clings to my body as I tuck it into the loose black trousersI took from Zeph's home.
