Faye and Ruin

The Birthday Party

Something had held me back from even setting a date, but he had never pressed it. Our relationship had always been slow to grow, dating for four years before an engagement. He had been my first serious boyfriend, the first man to put up with me for more than a couple weeks of a whirlwind surface level romance. Sometimes however, I still often wondered if our relationship remained surface level, but I didn't ever dwell on the tug at the back of my mind that there was something more out there. I chalked it up to my past crazy life of instability and immaturity.

It was easy with him because nothing was required of each other. It was easy with him because he never pushed me to be more than who I was and I never asked him to be more than he was. It was easy, and easy was comfortable. I liked comfortable.

After the food was gone, the candles were low, and the wine had disappeared, we made our way to bed. I showered after him and slipped into a fresh pair of silk night garments, before climbing into the bed with him. Part of me had hoped that tonight would be the end of our long lack of physical intimacy, but he was already snoring when I joined him.

Maybe that was why I was hesitant to set a date, I missed sharing that vulnerability with him, no matter how infrequent it was. We had never been very physical, even from the start and at first I hoped it would change as we moved closer towards marriage, but nothing yet. So I long since resigned that my expectations were made of fiction and I clicked the lamp light off beside me before closing my eyes.

--------------------------

I woke in another cold sweat with that silent scream dripping from my lips. It was the exact same dream, nightmare, the exact same pool of hatred that had been so pungent in the air with the mixture of rain and thunder. Wet grass, mud running slick through the battlefield, and there I was with a swirling orb of dark power in my hand just itching to be released. Until that burning bracelet clamped against my skin and the biting power that ran through my veins faded away.

This time however, I also woke with a dull headache and rubbed the temples  at the sides of my forehead as I slowly wandered out to the kitchen. A glass of water and some aspirin later, I found myself huddled on the couch with my knees to my chest. Dreams were nothing but the imagination and yet, it almost felt like someone was calling to me, that my other self was calling to me.

The King used my name. Azora. The word cold and icy as he spoke it, a name that had been passed down through my mother's side of the family. At least she had told me that one thing about them before passing away when I was ten years old. Every time I had pressed for any more information, she had given me the same answer: when I am older I will get to know.

Well here I was, older, and I still knew nothing. My father refused to talk about her, refused to tell me anything about my mother's family so I was left with nothing but a name to link me to such a beautiful woman who was taken too soon.

I remembered her eyes, much like mine, that continued to sparkle even as her cancer spread and eventually took her from me. My mouth was hers as well, and my jet black hair. The rest came from my father, even my height of five foot four came from my father's side of the family as my mother had stood as tall as Dustin; towering over my five foot seven father.

The sun slowly started piercing through the blinds, and I thought that maybe if I slept while the sun was awake, while light was shining through, the dream wouldn't torment me. So as soon as Dustin had left for work, I slipped back into the bed and closed my eyes.

------------------

That silver sword lanced through my tongue and I silently screamed out in pain. Calling for her, calling for the one that would free us all and save me. I begged. "Azora." I whispered in my mind. "Azora."