heart beats with hope
***
the distant faint rush of the ocean. the overlapping gentle splash of waves. the wisp of a howling wind. the pitter-patter drum of rain against the glass. the muffled shower of rainfall. the shudder of clicking ice-crystals. the crisping echoes of shrieking cries bouncing back and forth in the hallways. the roaring of footsteps ringing loudly in the hallways.
and each step is tense, aching slow with barely a breath to spare. Asteria could hear everything in volume, each silent whisper a deafening storm from miles away. her dress fluttering like the flaps of butterfly wings, her heart in beat with the buzzing footsteps of the ants crawling beneath the earth.
she could feel the night, the blanket of darkness stretching out in the sky, each thousand and thousands of twinkling stars, the crescent moon a luminance pearl of a hue of silver blue. Asteria feel it in each shift of her bones in each contraction and relaxation of her muscles, in each movement. so she moves extremely slow, savours in the tingle of her nerves. and it’s like waking up to first snow and watching the flakes fall in wonder and breath-taken expression even as the chilling cold of winter sinks into your bone till your lips are blue and you are shivering. and Asteria relishes in the feeling lets senses fan out, reach out beyond the walls of her palace and into the wilderness, beyond the tears in the universe and the sight is stunning.the washes, ripples and kaleidoscopes of greens, blues, pinks, purples, reds and darkness that surge through her. the light. the sounds. the people. the magic.
and each step is tense, aching slow with barely a breath to spare as she walks in her hallways. her footsteps a loud ring, thundering roar against the floor. even when they are light steps, the tip of her toes barely touching the floor. Asteria feels the old power sparking from the castle, almost as old as her, screeching loudly, trembling the whole foundation of her centre and electrifying her nerves of at the tip of her toes. as a small smile slides in on her face. in the far distance, miles and years away—
Asteria could feel it. ancient, golden, sapphire, mystical, saturated with power. family. she tries to breathe, to laugh but shudders under the volume, under the magnitude of raw power. flames, earth igniting up in bright oranges, yellows and reds. death raising from pits of ashes as life. and she feels is— family, family. then, sudden silence. deathly silence.
she halts.
her black, empty eyes rise in alarm. her head snaps upwards staring out into the world through the transplant glass walls. her senses fall flat as she tries to call out again. kin, she calls out in thousands of language, desperate. but nothing responds.
and Asteria stops, stands to look at the empty land. she’s crying tears, but there is no drop of tear. she’s crying, yet there is no whisper, no sound coming out of her lips. only wide black, empty eyes. only the faint tremor of her lips. then, the tremor stops and her eyes return to the normal size, glosses over the landscape in the distance with an unreadable expression.
of course, it happened again.
it feels like she’s lost a chunk of her soul, all over again. just when she managed to find lost kin, just when she thought she wasn’t the last of her kind, of her people, that maybe this time she would gasp on the wondering soul, when it was ripped away, leaving her with a gaping hole inside.
what’s a queen, a king without their people? what’s a kingdom, an entire empire without its people? absolutely nothing.
the crown on her head feels gaping cold. the edges chipped and eroded.
but Asteria keeps it on. keeps going on with her duties as she waits. for when her people will rise, tame the skies, come back home.
someday.. someday, she hopes.
.
.
.
somewhere, amongst heartbeats, amongst a dimming blazing fire. Evan re-enters the world with a whisper. it feels natural, almost too natural like slipping awake from sleep, not his damn death. his eyes open and he wakes up to greens, yellows and blues, to his home alive. wakes up to a familiar, warmth feeling running along his arms, the familiar touch of her in his mind and he smiles. lets himself lay on the fresh grass and looks up at the dawn sky.
cahya, Evan calls out again and she answers in laughs cries screams and curses.
and it’s all he needs it now. maybe later, in a few seconds, he would worry about the war, about how the hell he is alive (of course, she would find a way to bring him to life to punch him). but for now, he focuses on the warmth, the golden light of his tattoos and lets out a light, breathy laugh.
he is back home, to her and for now, that is all that matters.