A Sleepless Night for Ember
Spoilers for verse 2 of Ballad of the Nightmare Krew.
Perhaps he’d imagined it. Perhaps, all along, he had been deluding himself into believing it wasn't a solitary sentiment. Perhaps it really was as simple as friendship. Perhaps.
But it felt too real to Ember. Too raw in a deliciously painful way. Perhaps the sole ache he would willingly endure was this one – the yearning. For almost a year now, he had lived with that ache. Ever since she walked through those warehouse doors. From the instant her amber gaze locked with his, it had started.
And now, after leaving her. Leaving them all. He was back and she was distant. Too distant from him. It seems his time away had strengthened her bonds with the others. One of the many consequences to his cowardice. Oh, what he wouldn't sacrifice to reclaim those lost months. To get her back. Fully. The Lilith he glimpsed in fleeting moments, when she let down her guard with a smile at one of his jokes. The Lilith she showed him when their day was coming to a close and for a moment, the weight of all they were doing was forgotten and it was them. Sitting together with that exquisitely painful longing humming between them.
He had glimpsed her after he parted ways with them. Strolling through Reva with Ryujin. She looked determined. Fierce. Beautiful. His heart had seized in his chest at the sight of her and those he’d once called friends. Almost against his will, he’d moved closer to her. Too close. Even in disguise, she’d recognized the scent of his magic. She’d halted in her tracks, grabbing Ryujin by the shirt and whispering Ember’s name. Ryujin had whirled, searching frantically for his lost friend. But Ember had already slunk away.
That moment lingered in his thoughts for days. He no longer required slumber, yet he found himself imbibing concoctions to evade the yearning. Sleep was his sole respite. And in sleeping, he dreamed of her. Dreamed that he had not departed. That Leonidas had not met his demise. That everything was as it should be, and when the dust settled, she stood before him. She was there, uttering the words he had longed to hear. But always, dawn broke, and the potion wore off before he could articulate what he’d been whispering to himself for what felt like eternity.
He loved her. Had been loving her. He scarcely recalled a time when he didn't love her. It was as though the moment they crossed paths, his world aligned, and she became the focal point. His gravitational force.
If only he knew how she felt. He thought he had. She kept things so close to the vest, yet he prided himself on his ability to decipher people, and he could have sworn, during those final days on the isle of Sissonius, that they shared a mutual understanding. That they were building something small together that they would soon have to address.
Now, uncertainty gnawed at him. He had wounded her deeply. That much was painfully evident.
His first night back with the Nightmare Krew, after the dressing down she’d given him for leaving, he’d gone to her quarters to talk privately. To apologize as many times as he needed to so she would forgive him. While he never wanted to see her cry, and certainly not be the cause of her distress, her tears had given him hope.
“I am so angry at you and so happy to see you at the same time.” She’d said.
There had to still be a chance. Thus, he padded softly down the corridor to her cabin aboard this peculiar living vessel they now called home. Mindful not to disturb the others, he had gently rapped on her door. To his dismay, there came no response. Knocking once more yielded the same silence. The subsequent morning, Kallias had relayed to him that Lilith had opted to sleep beneath the stars on the deck alongside them. Envy surged through him, despite knowing that there was no romantic involvement between the two elves. Still, he couldn't shake the jealousy sparked by their closeness.
Once this was all over. Once Raya One and her cabal had been slain, he would tell her everything. He would lay bare his soul, divulging every secret, every truth. And whether she felt the same or not, he would leave again. It was inevitable. He needed to seek out more power, to extend his lifespan. She only heightened that urgency. His existence was a mere flicker compared to hers. If she did feel the same, it would be but for a season. Unless he found a way to live longer. So he would leave after all of this and pray to all the gods that she would welcome him back.
Tired of his languishing, Ember rose from his bed, limbs stiff with fatigue. He donned a robe, the fabric whispering softly as he moved, and stole quietly above deck, where the world still slumbered under the cloak of pre-dawn. Sleep should have claimed him, yet what solace lay in rest when his mind churned ceaselessly? He would endure the consequences of exhaustion if it meant a blissful distraction from his own mind.
Kallias lay beneath the sheltering embrace of the great tree on the living vessel, gentle snores punctuating the tranquil atmosphere. In slumber, they appeared almost childlike, devoid of the formidable mage they had become in the months since departing their cult and the isle of their birth.
Ember climbed up to the captain’s wheel, though it served more as an ornamental relic on the living ship. He placed his hands on it, remembering not too long ago when they were on a different ship and he was the captain. When for a brief, beautiful moment, he felt happiness like he had never felt before. He let himself live in that memory until it ebbed away.
He turned to go back under to the kitchens for some coffee when he heard her. The delicate strains of her violin from up in the crow’s nest. Ember froze, not wanting to alert her to his presence and intrude on her solitude. She played only when she sought solace, when emotions threatened to overwhelm her, weaving her feelings into a tapestry of melodies and crescendos. She had confided this to him once, explaining why her music was reserved for her alone, not for the ears of others.
He pondered how often she sought refuge in her music during his absence. Did she ever play in longing for his return? What would such melodies sound like?
Respecting her sanctuary, he retreated with silent steps to the entrance below deck, but not before catching the first notes of a melody that echoed the exquisite yearning that had bound him to her since their first meeting.
