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Blood pooled and ran in thin fingers through the white sands of an ancient beach. It had taken TriAnna days of focused effort to find Marcel on the far edge of the Oehn Sea, at the dawn of creation. Had he gone any further she might not have reached him in time.
She had seen him drifting. She had even believed for a moment that he was dead- an illusion that she was certain Kronos had believed as truth. It was forbidden by the deep magic to conjure death in artifice. A law even Kronos would not be so foolish as to break.
She knew that even in grief her heart was an organ of fire bonded eternally to Marcel’s. As long as his life burned with even the smallest spark, she could find him. She had grieved for allowing herself to be deceived and for the loss of her Trixie, a grief that was almost unbearable. She had followed her hope that Marcel was not dead -he was nearly extinguished, injured and alone, but alive.
“Marcel,” she whispered, “Marcel you must wake.”
Inside his mind she could see his confusion, she could walk through his memories and experience his emotions. The effort of the DreamWalk was intense and required all of her focus and power. Among her kind it was expressly forbidden to invade another’s life force in this way, but it was her only remaining tool, and there was so little time. She placed three fingers upon her heart and whispered the ancient words, a sort of siren song that had once been called out into the void before One had become Two.
A song that, when answered, ignited the fires of her universe.
Marcel stirred. His eyes could not focus, the pain in his head searing.
“TriAnna?..” He choked and spat his blood into the crimson stained sand, “Where are you?..” His eyes fluttered closed. He could taste the salt of the sea and the metal of his blood in his mouth. He could feel his heart slowing, a cold chill crawling up his legs and through his fingers despite the hot air that blew over the waves and made him feel nauseated. The pain in his head pounding waves. The waves. The sea.
He heard her. He heard. He saw her standing outside of the Auric Rectifier with fiery eyes as she was so long ago. He saw her. He reached. Not to die. Not alone. Not without…
“Marcel,” she whispered, “Marcel you must be brave, you are strong.” TriAnna whispered the words that had given her comfort for so long.
She strengthened her song, pleading with the growing void in his mind.
Silver tears flowed down her soft white cheeks as she sang. The color drained from her hair that slowly turned as white as her gown. Her auburn curls dissolved into a pale ash that blew around her small room in the Celestial Heliograph. The effort was tremendous, but she kept her voice steady.
Marcel felt a jolt like lightning surging through him, and his eyes opened. All around him he could hear a voice calling him from his precipice in a strange but familiar language. His mind began to clear and he understood her call. He remembered the words that she had taught him, words of an ancient and forbidden magic, and with a broken voice he found the strength to answer her song. As he sang into the sky, softly at first but with growing strength, he could feel her light growing inside of him and it fueled his own. The warmth of their fires burning together through the song filled his veins and his mind began to clear.
TriAnna was dissolving into cinder, cracks forming in her flesh like veins of lava when at last she found his song and his voice answering hers. His voice was weak but she knew that even a humble spark would become a raging inferno if fanned. The twin flames of their hearts fed one another. Finding his voice ,the truth of their love ignited her strength, her voice becoming powerful and confident.
Marcel could feel TriAnna inside of him, around him, filling him and as his power grew so did his song. He knew that their connection was a powerful ancient magic. He knew that if she had called to him in this way, she needed him just as he needed her. He sang to her across space and time, tears flowing over his battered face as the life within him was reborn.
He felt the truth that she had explained to him long ago: The feminine and the masculine in balance sing the song of creation from which all life grows in an endless dance.
“Marcel,” she whispered, “The worlds are in grave danger. Nimble walks. Trixie has followed her heart into the den of the beast. He roars but I will hold him. Please hear me, my darling. Hear me, and remember. She is near, go to her. I feel her anger and it feeds him. Go in love. Go with all that is mine and yours as we are one. Go to her- for your path home is through her. I will endure, as ever will my love but time grows short.”
Marcel felt her fade. For a moment he could only wrap his arms around himself, feeling cold and alone being separated again from her light which completed him. Breathing deeply he remembered her words and knowing that there was little time he stood, alert and powerful, and began his journey into the heart of the volcano.
Trianna, opened her eyes into the gloom of the Celestial Heliograph, the vibrant flame of her form golden and radiant again. She placed her hands over her heart and took a deep breath in, smelling Marcel’s hair and skin and feeling his warmth within her and around her until it faded. In his absence she was overwhelmingly alone; But he was alive, and he would persevere and so must she.
She stood, graceful and brilliant, as golden as the light of a distant sun. Renewed by Marcel’s love she prepared herself once more to stand alone against the hungry beast; the Titan Kronos.
* Music that moved me while writing:TriAnna’s DreamWalk.