They danced together across the battlefield, hilt in hand, wildflowers blooming in Annalise’s footsteps, serpentine afterimages of sacred light trailing in Eveningstar’s wake. The soldiers from the Capital fell one after another, as they always did. The dance slowed and stopped, as the last ones made their terrified retreat.
Annalise stood, watched, waited, as the soldiers crested a hill and vanished into the woods. Finally, she allowed herself to hunch over, pained coughs wracking her body, more flowers sprouting in the dirt where the blood fell.
“Annalise,” Eveningstar spoke, its metallic tones tinged with urgency and worry. “We can’t keep going like this. Your body can’t take much more.”
Annalise straightened up, took a cloth from her pack, and gently wiped Eveningstar clean. “We’ll be fine. I’m fine.”
“You’re not. We both know you’re not. You’ve taken in too much of my light already, and it’s only going to get worse.”
Annalise returned Eveningstar to its sheath across her back, and began walking onward down the road.
“Please, Annalise. It’s still not too late. You can still live another five years, maybe ten, you can find happiness with whatever you’ve got left, just leave me and go!”
Annalise continued walking. “I don’t need five years, Eveningstar. I just need until we reach the Inner Palace. And however long I’ve got left, I’m spending it with you.”
A moment of silence, punctuated only by Annalise’s footfalls and the calls of distant birds.
“Annalise. Please.”
They passed into the forest, setting sun glowing golden through the lush green leaves of summer.
“Annalise, your life is precious, you can’t let me burn it all away! My curse will kill you!”
Annalise strode off into a dense thicket of trees, close enough to find the road again easily, far enough to stay concealed. “You told me the same the day we met. And if I hadn’t picked you up and fought anyway, I’d have been killed then and there. It’s thanks to you I’m alive at all, thanks to you I’ll be able to avenge Mona and Caroline and all the others. If that costs all my borrowed time, it’ll be worth it.”
She cleared away the fallen branches, and began setting up camp for the night.
“You could live for them.” Eveningstar spoke quietly. “You could live for me.”
Annalise stared into the trees contemplatively as she worked to get a small fire lit. “You’ve been around for a thousand years, longer, right? Aren’t humans’ lives just a blink of an eye either way?”
“No! Never!” Eveningstar shouted, with a pain and bitterness that caught them both off guard. It took a moment to compose itself. “… No. They’re not. Every single day, every year, is just as precious to me as it is to you. And there are so, so many of them. I don’t think I can put it into words, how it feels to hold all the years I’ve known and cherished… and not a second goes by that I don’t feel the crushing weight of the countless more years I’ve stolen away.”
The silence hung over them once more. Annalise gently unsheathed Eveningstar and laid it across her lap as she got out her cloth again, and a small bottle of oil. She began polishing it, caring and attentive, just as she had done since they first met. (“You don’t need to do that. The light burns away everything with time.” “But I want to.”)
Annalise spoke softly as the fire burned low. “I know you’re worried about me. But it’s alright. This is what I want to do with the time and the strength you’ve given me.”
“I know… I know.”
She turned her head upwards, gazing at the stars. “You’ve told me so many stories about the people who held you before me. How Elaresh slew the Azure Titan and saved the world, how Gerinel of Thall defended the Valley of Crows from the Tacerian Empire’s armies. Do you really think they felt cheated or robbed? Do you really think you cursed them, with your light?”
They sat together in silence under the stars. Eventually, Annalise carefully sheathed Eveningstar, put out the fire, and settled in to sleep for the night.
“Goodnight, Eveningstar.”
“Goodnight, Annalise.”
Eveningstar, absent any need for sleep, simply remained lost in its thoughts.
Maybe you’re right. Maybe you’re not cursed, maybe Elaresh and Gerinel weren’t cursed, maybe none of the scores of utter heroes I’ve known and loved were ever cursed.
But I am.