To Remember, To Live

note: story includes multiple deaths and cursing

To Remember, To Live

by: Asher Romero Moeckli

The candle bore her name. A remembrance to who she was, and to how she had loved.

Vincent stared down at it, watching the flame flicker in the rain.

Vera was too strong to be brought down by a little rain, Vincent knew.

Suddenly Vincent collapsed, his knees hitting the dirt beneath him and the man in gold’s sword clattered the ground beside him. He let himself crumble, simply unwilling to pick himself up again.

He lay in the rain, letting it land on his cheeks and slid down onto the dirt. If he could, he would lay here forever. Just laying with Vera– his friend, his defender.

“How’d she go?” Rory’s voice interrupted his grief.

“What?” Vincent asked, not even bothering to turn towards his friend.

“How did Vera go? I heard she was dead.” His tone was emotionless, hollow as he stood over Vincent. His blond hair was plastered to his forehead, eyes red, and hands shaking.

He wanted to be mad– oh Vincent wanted to be mad. He wanted to scream, to kick, to kill his best friend.

“No.” Vincent muttered, refusing to relive it. He had relieved death after death– his magic quickly becoming a curse: reliving the final moments of those he saw die. Their pain, their suffering– all was his to bear. To live is to be remembered. And he was cursed to remember.

He would rather sow his mouth shut than ever speak of Vera again. She was his to grieve, his to love, his to remember. That wasn’t something Rory needed to see.

“How did she go?” Rory repeated, except it wasn’t a question this time. Now, Vincent didn’t have a choice. If Vincent’s curse was to remember, Rory’s curse was to know. His magic brought the truth out of anyone. Together, they ensured that the truth was passed down generation to generation.

After Amiri, Rory had promised to never make Vincent remember again. Especially not their family’s.

Oh Vincent wanted to kill his best friend.

“How did she go?”

The words began to leave his mouth before he even knew what he was saying:

“The sword slid through Vera’s flesh as if it were piercing his favorite pie. A pie he hated, wanted to feel the life pour out of.

The man in gold had always hated them. In life, and in her death.”

“St– stop it,” Vincent choked out, hands clawing at his throat. Instantly, they snapped back to his sides– paralyzed.

“I have to know.” Rory replied, “She was my sister.”

“Vera felt the sword scrape against her lower ribs, sliding out the other side. Her vision went white and for a moment, nothing else existed except the sword buried in her back and Vincent’s eyes– filled with heartbreak and anger.

Everything came crashing back to reality as Vera heard Vincent’s screams. The sword had buried itself in his stomach. His eyes squeezed shut– just as they did when he laughed– and he swayed, losing his footing and sending them careening towards the forest floor.

Vincent’s back hit the grass as his head slammed into a root. Vera landed on top of him, the sword slowly sinking further into them.”

“I loved her!” Vincent screamed, “You can’t do this to me! I loved her, Rory!”

“Vera’s ears were quickly filled with Vincent’s screams– loud and pained as he struggled. It was only then that she found she could move again.

She dug her hands into the grass on either side of his head.

His screams sounded so different from his laugh. So different from the sound she dreamed about.

Her knees found a home in the rocks soaked in her blood.

She could feel his cold, wet hands on her back. Grasping at the sword. So different from the warm hand that she took at that dance.

She pushed away from Vincent.”

“You promised me! You promised me that you’d never make me do this again!”

“I’m sorry.”

“The sword slid against his insides, blood spurting up and hitting her torso. He screamed again.

Slowly, ever so slowly, Vera pulled herself off him, managing to sit back on her knees. She stared down at her best friend, her partner. His once tidy black hair was strewn about around his head. His golden eyes staring up at her, wide and terrified.

What happened to that cute smile? Of course. There’s a gaping hole in him. How could he smile?

“Vera?” he choked out. And she wanted to respond, she wanted to tell him everything. Instead, the world went sideways as she toppled to her side.

“Vera!” he screamed, and the world went dark for a moment.”

“Stop it! Please! Please, Rory!” Vincent sobbed, tears sliding down his cheeks and mixing with the rain.

“Rain slid down Vera’s cheeks as she opened her eyes again. The first thing that she noticed was that the sword was gone, no longer lodged in her back.

Vincent knelt above her, his wound still gaping in his stomach.

“Please, please don’t be gone,” he sobbed, ignoring the blood gushing from his stomach in favor of frantically trying to cover her with his jacket.

“Don’t cry,” Vera choked out, reaching her hand up to heal his slashed artery. She didn’t have the strength to heal the wound but she could mend his aorta– maybe that would be enough to save him.

“How could I not?” Vincent asked, “Why would you do that?!”

He sounded more angry than sad now. Why would she not have done that? She loved him.

“You are–” she coughed, “-- the best thing to ever happen to me.”

And the world went dark once more. At least… at least his bleeding had stopped.

“No, no, no, no, not this part,” Vincent moaned, trying to fight Rory’s magic, trying to disconnect himself from his own magic. Cover his ears– claw out his throat– anything so he didn’t have to hear her again.

Never again.

God never again.

“Come on, please Vera. Please open your eyes.” Vincent whispered, shaking her shoulders lightly, “Vera please!” He shook her shoulders again, this time more violently.

Vera’s head lulled to the side, and hand fell away from his stomach.”

“I’ll kill you!” Vincent spat, filled with hatred towards the man he’d loved since they were kids, “I’ll kill you Rory!”

Goodnight, V.

Suddenly, Vincent was snapped back into his body. He immediately sat bolt upright, his hands closing around the man in gold’s old sword and he lunged for Rory.

“How could you do that to me?!” he screamed, slashing wildly as Rory ducked and dodged, not even drawing his own weapon, “You promised me you’d never use that cursed ability on me! Not ever, not after your sister!”

Vincent drove Rory to the edge of the cliff– the one that their town’s graveyard rested atop of. There, they froze.

Two friends– brothers even– standing face to face, sword to throat where their families lie. And with a sinking heart, Vincent realized Rory was all he had left.

Vera was gone, Amiri had been dead for years.

They were parentless, friendless. All they had was each other.

“Tell my brother I said hi, Vin.”

“You were everything to me, V.”

“I promise you, Vincent. I won’t make you do that again.”

“You fucking promised me Rory!” Vincent screamed, panting as he stared at his old best friend. Rory stared at him, blankly.

“We had a unique ability, Vincent. We are gifted, we ensure our loved ones– our people live on.” Rory replied, his voice devoid of any emotion– even sadness.

Vincent opened his mouth. He wanted to shout, to tell Rory how disgraced Vera would be. She had never liked their magic, always favored pen to paper. But his voice was too raw. All that left his lips was a small, hoarse groan.

“We both knew that promise was bullshit, V.”

“And the next thing Rory knew, he was falling. Blood spurted from his stomach as the wind rushed through his hair.

The man in gold’s sword was lodged in his stomach– severing his aorta and turning him into Vincent’s favorite piece of pie.

A pie he’d once loved, one that was poisoned and killed him slowly.”