A Brush with Death

Was originally going to do something longer but idk I wasn't feeling it. >.<

Word Count: 1918

꧁༺࿅ིཽ• –– •❈• –– •࿅ིཽ༻꧂

You felt joy radiating off of her as she wandered through your mother's realm. Cilla would stop every now and then just to smile at how the grass lit up beneath her feet, then she'd balance on one leg and watch it return to its normal color in it's absence. It almost felt like you were playing some kind of cruel joke on her in showing her all of this knowing she wouldn't live long enough to tell anyone about the experience.

The indecisiveness of what you had done and would do had created a rift within you. While Mort had planted the idea and temptation to indulge in your selfishness, how could you? With both your father and Solaria sleeping, the balance in this world had finally reached a stable place, you couldn't just start meddling with it because you had made the mistake of taking a liking to a mortal. But even in knowing that this what was needed to be done, it didn't make your decision any easier. You hated even needing to think of it as a choice. It made it sound like you were choosing to cut her down.

Cilla turns to you, a broad smile plastered across her face. “Vale, it's beautiful here. Do you live here?” The grass rustles beneath her feet as she bounds to your side.

You shake your head. “No, this place belongs to my mother.” Cilla glances around and before she could ask, you add, “she isn't here right now.”

“That's a shame, I would have liked to meet her.” She pauses, kneeling on the ground in front of you. “If you don't live here, where do you live?”

You straighten your legs in front of you, opening your lap to her as you thought. Wasteland didn't even begin to cover it. Echoes lingered everywhere and the land was as ever-shifting as the sea. It was no place for her, even if she's wasn't knocking on your door. “It's very boring there.”

Cilla crawls into your lap. You rest your cheek on top of her head, a content sigh rising in your chest. Mortals were always so warm and soft. It was unpleasant and intriguing all at once. This damned curiosity of yours was going to be your downfall. You looked down on your peers for indulging in their vices, and you did the same. Although you lurking among the mortals, unseen for the most part, was hardly as destructive as what your comrades did. “You think everything is boring. I think I'd quite like to see it some day.”

“Next time, perhaps.” You feel your grip on Cilla tighten as you lied to her. She didn't know there wouldn't be a next time. The last thing you wanted was to alarm her. While you might have already considered her gone, you wanted her to enjoy what time she had left. But you found that much harder to do than you initially anticipated. It was like you could hear the ticking on the invisible clock that was keeping track of the moments you had left together.

“Next time you'll have to introduce me to your mother too.” Cilla tips her head back and flashes you an innocent smile.

You smooth her hair and kiss her forehead, pretending to consider it. Given the circumstance, you actually might have considered letting the two meet. At the very least, it would give your mother something to do besides mope around as she had been. “I'm sure her ears are burning. Say her name a few more times and she might be compelled to crawl out of whatever puddle she's hiding in.”

Cilla's brow furrows slightly. You kiss her forehead again. “You make it sound as if she's a busy body, or peeping tom.”

“Peeper yes. Busybody? Hardly. My mother, bless her heart, is a little oblivious.”

“So you take after her then.” An annoyed huff escapes you. Cilla giggles, rising to her feet again. “Come now, don't sulk like that.”

The water in the spring behind her starts to bubble and glow, and your mother returns. You had filled her in for the most part and while you hadn't explicitly asked her not to be here, she left on her own accord. You weren't sure if she thought you would be done by now, or just wanted to see things for herself while she still could. Either way it would appear Cilla would get what she wanted after all. “I'm not sulking.”

Mother laughs quietly as she steps out of the pond, glowing faintly in the moonlight. Despite her gentle smile, there were still deep bags under eyes. “The girl has a point Vale, you'll get wrinkles just like your father if you keep scowling like that.”

“I'm not scowling either.”

Cilla's eyes widen as she turns. There was a long moment when she was visible awestruck as mother approached. She seemed to recover herself and bows. You roll your eyes and smile despite yourself. Even your mother's worshippers didn't prostrate themselves like that. Then again, most of them also weren't always all there; they probably didn't even realize who they were speaking to. “Lady Luna! You have a lovely home.”

“Please child, there's no need for such formalities. Especially not when my son is so taken with you. I honestly never thought that boy would bring someone home to me.” You feel the crease in your brow deepen and fold your arms over your chest. Mother laughs quietly, waving off your annoyance. “But I didn't come here to give him a hard time, rather to ask him something.” Mischief flashes in her eyes, along with one of her fish splashing in the water. They must have come out of their hiding places with your mother being here. “Bu while I have you, would you like to do be a tiny little favor?”

Cilla glance at you. You motion her forward and excitement sparkles in her eyes. “Of course!”

Mother hands her a small pouch. “Can you feel my fish for me? The rest of the pouch should do.”

Cilla bounds off, eagerly dropping to her knees in front of the pool of water. The splashing grows louder and is accompanied by her laughter. It was almost painful how full of life she was. You hated it. At least if she had been on a steady decline it would feel more like a blessing to free her from her mortal coil.

You silently regard Cilla for a moment. She chides one of the fish for eating so much, and urges it to save some for the others. Mother sighs and shakes her head. “I did not mean to intrude. For the sake of sounding morbid, I assumed...things would be done by now.”

You shrug. “I might have as well. Maybe she will surprise me and go on the mend.” You feel your mother's eyes on you and add, “I would not put my eggs in that basket however. The chance was incredibly slim to begin with.” You feel your brow furrow as you utter the words. You wished that hadn't been the case. Even if they weren't good, you wished the odds were better. She looked so happy right now. All you wanted was for her to be able to keep smiling.

Mother rests on of her hands on top of your your head. “Nobody is judging you Vale, nor do we envy you. It's alright to be upset.”

You shrug her hand off. You hated how everyone pitied you. You couldn't stand them tiptoeing around you. You never liked being coddled. Now was no exception. Things might have actually been easier if it didn't feel like everyone was waiting for you to become hysterical. You simply didn't have it in you. Even now as frustrated and desperate as you were, or thought you were, you didn't have the resolve to do anything about it. “What did you want?”

“Do you have plans for her?”

The question felt innocent enough, but you knew what always followed. You could feel a headache forming despite the fact that you knew mother wouldn't press anything father than you would have liked. “Do I ever?”

“Would it be to forward to ask for her then?”

“You better not put her in a fish.”

Mother laughs quietly and waves off the notion. A dark expression crosses her face. She shake her head and turns her attention to Cilla again. “I was thinking a tree. I quiet miss the one your father made for me. Don't you think she'd look beautiful over the waterfall? And she can watch the fish.”

You feel your throat tighten and nod. “I think she'd like that.”

A tense silence lingers between you as Cilla stands and starts wandering back to you. Her steps were slow and measured, like she was being cautious of intruding on you. Mother took note of it and called out to her. “Have you finished?”

Cilla nods cheerfully. “Yes, ma'am.” She hands the satchel back, swooning. Mother quickly grabs Cilla's arm and clicks her tongue.

“Careful, little one.” She winces and you exchange wary glances. “You sit here, I'll fetch you some water.”

Cilla nods, You bundle her into your arms, slowly rubbing her back as she starts coughing. “You overdid it again.”

Cilla laughs sheepishly, taking a few deeps breaths to collect herself. “Maybe just a little, but I think it's fine now and then. It's been ages since I've been out of the house and you brought me someplace so beautiful.”

“Then you can sit and watch, not exhaust yourself frolicking with the moths.”

Cilla pouts. You pull her against your chest and stroke her hair. Her breathing was shallower than it had been. “Sometimes you can be rather boring.”

“I'm not boring.”

Cilla reaches up and pokes your cheek, flashing you a tired smile. “Yes you are, but it's alright. I don't love you because your exciting.” You feel your brow furrow. Cilla gigges, but the action is cut off by another fit of coughing.

In a way she reminded you of your mother. The both had this uncanny way of getting beneath your skin in an a not entirely unwelcome way. You hadn't believed Cilla when she said you were easy to read, but maybe there was some truth to that after all.

Mother returns with a small goblet. There was a distinct blue tint to the water and it carried a faint floral smell. “Here, drink this.” Cilla glances at both of you as she takes a few small sips of water. Mother nods contently and stands. “There now. I shall leave my son to take care of you. He's rather good at such things, even if he doesn't want to it it.”

You exchange another knowing look. Cilla seemed reluctant to say goodbye, but mother assured her that they would cross paths again. You both watch her leave in silence as Cilla nurses her water. When Cilla was certain that mother was out of ear shot, she commented, “I like your mother, she's quite nice. She reminds me of Ms. Poppy.”

You brush some hair from her face, taking the half empty cup from her. “She does, although I wish she wouldn't fret over me as she does. It's quite irritation at times.”

Cilla rests her head against your chest. Her eyes gradually drooping shut as she spoke. “We do it because your so uptight. You should live a little...”