emberleland·:
ember would never wake again. she could hear him, the last few things he said, telling her to rest… and then she heard sobs, the most heartbreaking, earth-shattering sounds, that got fainter and fainter until they were gone. and then… nothing. she saw nothing. she wanted to scream and wail and beg the world to bring her back, to put her back there and let her see him again, but the world was cruel and uncaring.
her sight shifted and she was standing at the edge of a dark river, a boat waiting for her. a man in a dark cloak held out his hand, and she didn’t know what he wanted. anxiously searching her pockets, she found two gold drachma – greek coins she never owned, but found their way to her pocket nonetheless. every soul was granted their way to be judged, she supposed. she got on the boat, but her thoughts were not those of fear for what was coming. all she could think about was gideon. how she missed him.
– – – – – – – –
hera never thought she’d laugh this hard. watching that wretched girl die, seeing her tragic beloved sob over her lifeless corpse, it was all utterly hilarious to the goddess. “it’s what she deserves,” she mutters to aphrodite standing beside her, who simply looked shocked. they watched from above, hera was waiting for the perfect moment to appear. “i want to give him a moment to grieve! it’s only fair,” she noted flippantly.
aphrodite shook her head and watched gideon. her heartstrings tangling at the sight of two perfect lovers. she felt some guilt for making gideon immortal, but she knew it was a lesson he was always learning, and she was proud of him for that. and think, if he wasn’t immortal, he never would have met ember! but… but aphrodite didn’t expect hera to go out and murder the poor girl. she had to fix this, somehow.
he wasn’t ready. he hadn’t been ready. but how could he ever be ready to look up at his darling, beloved girl and see... nothing. nothing but vacancy in her. “it’s okay, love.” he cupped her precious cheeks, fighting the sobs though they shook through his very core. “you don’t have to feel pain anymore.” he couldn’t do it. he couldn’t say goodbye to her. not now, not yet. all he could do was hold her close and cry to her.
he didn’t know how long he must’ve been there like that. grieving. unable to move from her. the only measures of time in his mind were the memories flashing before his eyes—how they met. that first night with her. learning her. all her favorite places to be touched and kissed and everywhere they’d ever been together. every song he ever sang to her. and among those, her version of blackbird that had quickly become his favorite ringing in his ears. at the time she hadn’t been too sure of herself in it—she never was, but. ember had a way of making things look easy despite not knowing her own power. she took care of him. she loved him. she saved him.
and now she was gone. and he was alone again. he still felt her, in his chest, but. the air in the room had changed. the light in the world was gone. and where she used to give him warmth he now felt cold and empty. “please,” he whispered, unwilling to leave her. “please come back to me.”












