Fortune Favors the Bold

This is the final will and testament of Rose Brianna Rodrigues.

I leave the grandfather clock downstairs to my grandson Peter. I leave the old safe in the attic to my brother Dan. And I leave everything else—the estate, the money, all of it—to the man by the sea. He’ll know what to do.

Rose set down the pen with a shaky hand. Nobody else would know who the old man was, and nobody would like it either. But he had done her a favor, a huge favor, and she felt he deserved the world. It was only fair: one saves a life, one receives a life, even if that life just so happens to be given to one who doesn’t need it.

Carefully, she set the blue fountain pen—a gift from the man himself—into its case, and tucked that away in a drawer. She picked up the paper gently, and heaved herself off the chair. Perhaps it was a mistake to leave it all to the man. Would he even remember her?

She shook off her doubts and hauled open the far too big oak door. The man always remembered. He had no reason to forget, for if he did his brothers would come, and if they did, he’d lose all he ever wanted in the world.

At least, that was what he had told her.

She walked down the hallway, smiling at the faces in frames who always smiled back, skipping over the ones who didn’t. She set the page on the desk by the front door, and borrowed a couple paperweights from her nephews’ desk. He never used them anyways.

She weighed down the page, one at the top, one at the bottom, and smiled. The old man would come. She was sure of it. He had no reason not to. All that was left was to make sure he knew to come.

Rose walked over to the similarly large front door, pulling it open. Everything in the house was too big for her liking: the bed, the windows, the doors. It was as if it was made for giants, by giants.

Who knew, maybe it was. The house was nearly as old as she was.

Once again, she shook off her concerns.  If she strayed from her mission surely the poison would act quicker, and she barely had time as it was. All she could do was hope, hope the roads were kind, hope the sea would draw closer to get her to her desired destination as swiftly as possible, because surely the whispers would follow. Rose crossed into the woods, down an unworn but familiar path, letting the trees guide her to the ocean, to her love.

She nearly tripped over a root disguised under leaves, and caught herself on a tree trunk, smiling. Even in her old, weary state, she knew when a certain forest was trying to trick her—it was obvious. From the fruit in the trees to the ants in the ground, she knew it was all either a trick, or a trick disguised as a blessing. The treese were never kind, only kinder.

But she made it to the end safely, the trees were kinder today, and allowed her passage. Perhaps they sensed her ending was near, perhaps they knew something she didn’t. Then again, the trees always knew soemthing new. They heard the rumors on their leaves, the secrets in their branches. It wasn’t a surprise any longer that they knew what they did, acted how they did. Not when you have lived as long as Rose has. 

She tucked her hair behind her ear. The trees must have sensed her age, known the poison coursing through her veins. Maybe that was why they allowed her to live just a little longer, to allow her to give one last message to her love. Or maybe they were hoping she would die strong, and return to forest as if she had any bond there to begin with.

She stepped over the last rock in her way, sliding a bit on the sand. The forest at least tried to put up a semblance of kindness, the sand did not. It sent crabs and worms, seaweed and broken shells through the tides.

Rose clutched her jacket tighter around her, for the day was waning, and if she was caught alive by twilight, surely her pain would triple, and her death would be worse. Some say it is a blessing to be killed by fae. They are wrong.

For the third time that day, she tore her mind away from things not related to her goal. Attract their attention, and they hunt. Hunt, and you will be killed.

Not that it would matter any longer. She suspected she barely had eough time to pass on her message, let alone live long enough to fear a worse death. Already the world was tilting a bit, and she was getting rather tired. 

She kicked away seaweed, already feeling heat spread through her toes. She walked until she met the water’s edge, and lowered herself down onto the sand. The sand was hot, the sea was cold, and her love had done her a rare favor, sending the waters to cool her worn feet for the last time.

“Love, I have returned,” she whispered. “I came back, although I fear it is for the last time.”

Quicker than she’d ever seen, a figure walked out the water, rushing to her side. “My love.”

She cupped his face as he knelt. “Promise me something, dear.”

“Anything.”

She felt the poison work it’s magic, and knows: she has no time. She would die in her lover’s arms. “Promise me you’ll take care of the house. Do not let the trees claim the property, do not allow the ghosts of the past to overrun our home.” Dark spots started to flash across her vision. “Bury me by the sea, darling.”

He grabbed her face, pulling it up to look at him. “Love, no, I’ll get you better, you don’t have to die, you won’t.” But tears clouded his eyes, and they both knew the truth.

“Do not let them belittle you, but treat them kindly. They’re my family,” she mumbled, and already it was a hassle to breathe. She shouldn’t have trusted the tea, shouldn’t have trusted the messenger. She should have been smarter, but tea had seemed so good that day.. “Stay safe, darling, and use your time well. Don’t allow yourself to waste away like I did.”

Her eyes shut, and tears dripped down his face. “You didn’t waste away,” he choked out. “You’re the most beautiful person I’ve ever met.”

She smiled, forcing herself to not give in just yet. “You flatter me, a bold move for one of your kind.”

He pulled her close, cradling her frail body in her arms. He knew she would be gone soon, and she knew she would be too. “Bold? Anybody would be insane to not love you like I do.”

She smiled weakly. “Very bold,” she whispered. “To love so long with somebody whose life is so short, is the boldest move of all. To love, knowing they won’t stand the test of time, darling, is the boldest thing one of you could imagine.”

He pulled away and put his forehead to hers. She was cold and pale, but he refused to allow her final moments to be alone.

“Fortune has always favored the  bold, love.”

He brought her closer again, pressing a kiss to her lips.

A ways away, Dan and his husband Tristan were coming home with their two children, Peter and Lily. Dan spotted the paper first and read it aloud.

“Peter gets the clock, and I get the safe?” His face twisted as he read the last line. “Who’s the man by the sea? She would rather leave everything behind to some old unnamed guy than her family? And what is Peter going to do with a clock? He’s barely six!”

Tristan came beside him and read over his shoulder. “The old lady must be senile,” he said grimly, and Dan elbowed him, causing him to burst out in laughter. “Come on, she claims the trees are trying to trip her! She swore at the road the other day, Dan.”

Dan sighed and set it down. “Thing is, I know this man.”

Tristan’s laugh cut off. “What?”

Dan picked up his jacket from a chair. “She was married to the guy. As much as I dislike this, it’s her will. I need to tell him.”

Tristan sighed. “Dear, are you sure he even exists?”

Dan turned towards the door, which was already opening. “If he didn’t, why is the door opening?”

The man walked in. “My apologies for being late.” He waved at the paper. “I’m Creik.”

Tristan turned to Dan. “This is the old geezer your mother left everything to instead of her own flesh and blood?”

“Yeah. Worst part is, we can’t do anything about it.”

“Your mother really was senile.”

If the old man was affected, he didnt show it. He knew how they would react, but he kept to Rose’s word. He would be kind, even if he didn’t receive kindness in turn. He would take care of the house, and defend himself countless times if he needed to. He would bury her in the cove down the shore, even if he had to do it alone. It was bold, to do so much with so little help. Risky, even. But who knew what would happen?

Besides that, who was he to skip out on some risk? He never was the most cautious. But he supposed he never should have been.

Fortune favors the bold, after all.