Page 17 of May: Bloom & Bane

“One more sunrise, mí’peora,” I whisper. (My peony) “I’ve told you every story I have. I’ve given you my blood, my wings, my devotion. Tomorrow, the debt to the gods is paid.”

I’m not going to sleep.

I’m going to watch the moon pass over your face, and I’m going to be awake when the first ray of the 365th day hits this glass.

I have to be the first thing you see.

I have to know if you remember the male who talked to you in the dark.

Day 365: The sun has set.

I sat on the grass and tracked every agonizing inch as it sank behind the trees.

I waited for the glass to crack…

For the tether to snap and pull you back from the land of dreamers. For the miracle I’ve been promising my own desperate heart for the last twelve months to come true.

It didn’t.

The moon is high now.

And the grove is a graveyard of orange petals.

The 365th day is over, and your box is still closed.

I’ve spent the last hour screaming at the sky.

The anger has left, and now all I’m left with is… emptiness.

I press my face against the glass, my tears smearing the surface I spent a year keeping pristine.

“Was it not enough?” I whisper to the moon. “I gave you a year! I gave you blood. What more do you want from me?”

The gods didn’t answer. I’m not sure there are any.

Sage is leaking, Droot chirps, his light a mourning gray. He huddles at the edge of the stone, his little head bowed. The Sun is still in the box. The box won’t open.

“I know, Droot,” I whisper, closing my eyes. “I know.”

I don’t think I can do Day 366. I feel like a candle that has finally burned to the wick.

I am a garden with no gardener.

The hope that has kept me upright for a year finally dies.

Maybe it’s time for me to sleep along with her and let the darkness finally take me.

Day 366:

I wake to the scent of rain and honey.

There’s a warmth on my cheek that feels different than the sun.

A soft touch settles over my hand.

My eyes snap open.

Eden fills my vision, like a goddess carved from light. Copper hair cascades down her shoulders in wild curls, and her eyes are wide with wonder.