Under a Second Moonlit Reverie

TW: brief description of body contortion, blood

He blinked and in the next moment, he was standing in a long flowing robe, a salty breeze catching it and his long silvery hair. The months of dirt and grime and dried blood peeled off into nothing as he felt cleaned and enveloped in a warm embrace.

His once raging heart calmed, and slowed, until it was finally a gentle, constant thud in his chest, and the only sound around him was the soft crash of waves upon the shore. The air was hot, and he knew that he was far beyond the freezing wastes he and his companions had been desperately trekking through to seek salvation.

He glanced to his sides and only saw a sea of bleached mangroves enclosing him in a secluded part of the beach. Beyond that, curving with the horizon, powdery white sand stretched for miles. The only other landmark was a lone, pale lighthouse in the distance, shining its beacon upon the sea.

He recognized that lighthouse. He knew where he was.

Port Orchole. But, more specifically, a secluded patch of beach away from the bustle of the harbor, far off a beaten path and hidden by mangroves and tall wispy beach grass. He was at a secret enclave he would hide away at where only one other soul would know to find him.

He wanted to try and think and rationalize why he was here, what tricks were being played upon him or perhaps what magicks were being employed, but the pleasantly warm air dulled his senses, and the breeze tickled his nose and drew his attention to the sea.

Rhythmically, without end, the waves crashed against the shore. Gentle, a push and pull that sprayed soft foam against the sand. He stood a bit out of reach, but he felt himself compelled to walk forward, and away from the troubles that rapidly lost hold on his mind.

He stepped forward, creeping closer to the ocean’s edge and feeling the soft blanket of sand under his bare feet.

The first touch of water against his skin was surprisingly warm, drawing him in further until he waded out to his knees, the edges of his robes caught in the water and swayed with the pull of the waves.

He closed his eyes and breathed in deeply.

That’s right.

He was waiting to meet someone.

Someone so incredibly important, someone that he so desperately wanted to see that his chest ached horribly with the yearning.

He clenched his hand to his chest, bundling the fabric of his robes into a tight ball as he bent his head down, pain building in his breast.

Tears began to build at the corners of his eyes, unbidden, and he squeezed them shut.

The only comfort he got came from the waves crashing against him, slowly soaking his robes and providing a welcome anchor to keep him grounded into their promise to meet one another once again.

Soon…

Soon.

He opened his eyes and stared out at the seamless horizon where the stars danced with heaven and sea while the moon illuminated their timeless union.

Before him, a memory he had long hidden away in a quiet corner of his heart began to form in front of his eyes, two ethereal figures made of stardust dancing and laughing in the waves.

They splashed water at each other, dancing and swaying in close but not quite pressed against one another. A flirtatious encounter, one where their touches lingered and their smiles widened but they were not quite sure of their standing with one another.

They spoke to each other, though the words were hollow and distorted to his ears, barely able to hear or remember the leading exchange they had made that night.

“I have never seen you smile so much,” his ghostly image said. The taller figure snorted, and smiled wider, leaning in closer.

“Well what about you, mister?” the taller said, and his hand drifted down to capture a wisp of drifting hair in the water. “You’ve always been so…serious, so sad.”

His ghostly image tilted his head, adoration evident even from where he stood now.

Their next words were swallowed by the waves. The words didn’t matter, not particularly.

He watched as the two stood closer, the shorter reaching a hand up to cup the taller’s cheek.

“In this spot, I promise…” the taller began, and there were more words exchanged, more words swallowed away, though they echoed in his head, their meaning somehow lost yet reverberating against his skull. His ghost nodded vigorously, and he felt the phantom tears slipping down his cheeks as the memory played out.

The two leaned in further, and just as their lips were about to touch, their silvery visage dissipated, stardust floating on the water’s reflection.

The heat of the air and the comforting cool of the water beckoned him further out, and he felt himself drawn to wade out further, to stand in the same spot where they made their promise to one another.

How long must he wait?

He is comfortable, though his thoughts weaved in and out of his mind absentmindedly, a small observation here - like the Lover’s Constellation sparkling above him - to a fleeting memory there - his friends must be worried, they were in a battle and now he’s-

The breeze quickened briefly then, taking with it the train of thought regarding the when and how he got there.

Instead, the flash of a star caught his attention. It twinkled, and spun, before it detached itself from the sky and skated across the waves, leaving a silver wake in its path.

He watched it move and turned when it skated past him until it touched the sand, softly bursting into another memory made manifest before him on the sand.

This time, his ghostly memory stood with hands clapped to his face, tears freely streaming down his cheeks. Before him, the same taller figure knelt, holding a box with a glistening star within it.

Unintelligible words exchanged. Another promise made.

His ghost tackled the other and the two nearly pitched into the sand. But the other caught them, and they hugged each other tightly, tears streaming down both their faces. They parted, and as the other began to slip the star onto his ghost’s finger, a horn called forebodingly in the distance, blowing the memory away. Their image split into another bout of stardust, rushing past him to reach their places in the sky.

When they cleared, he clenched his fist and felt the ring upon his finger. A physical promise, a show that the two of them were two halves of a whole. He knew somewhere out there, the ring’s matching half waited to be reunited, if only…if only.

Quickly then, with no time for him to recover, the pressure in the air grew, pressing down on him, and the water quickly ceased, retreating towards the sea.

When he turned, his eyes widened as he saw a wall of black began to crawl towards him, blocking his view of the starry night. The moon shone done, a haunting halo as a tsunami wave crashed forward, hungrily reclaiming each bit of land it had briefly abandoned.

He couldn’t move, stuck where he was, but he braced for impact, clenching the ring in his hand.

The water slammed into him, but he felt no pain, just the cool wisp of water slipping past him like when he’s bathed in rivers on their journey.

But, it ripped violently past him, and his hand was wrenched from his chest. He felt the ring slip and fling past him, and without thinking, he opened his mouth to gasp.

Though logically he shouldn’t be able to, air quickly entered his throat, choking him, and he opened his eyes to watch the little star disappear into the void of the ocean.

It felt like the sand disappeared beneath his feet, and suddenly he was sinking, deeper and deeper. The moon shone faintly beyond the surface, taunting him until he was enveloped in black.

Just as the light blinked out, yet another, final memory sparked to life before his eyes.

They were standing opposite each other, stiff and they couldn’t meet each other’s gaze.

Beyond them, the call of battle roared, metal clashing as the sky burned beyond.

They were talking stiltedly to one another, tense and coiled to strike.

Accusations spilled from his past self’s lips. They were true, but the words were venom and his partner could only stand there and take the verbal vitriol.

He couldn’t even remember what had happened, what his partner did. He knew that…there was a betrayal, something beyond them, that had to do with the war that was being waged, and the purpose for which he had been…

He doesn’t remember.

It doesn’t matter.

Before him, he watched as his past turned, wrenching off a glittering star from his hand and dropping it in the sand before he stormed away.

“I never…not in…and not even in death,” he spat, words echoing and reverberating in the water.

He desperately reached a hand out just as his partner also reached his out, and the memory fizzled into bubbles that rushed past him.

When he blinked, he was back on the beach, wading in the water with it lapping at his waist.

He was relatively dry, save for the part of his body in the water, and he was facing the same patch of beach that he had angrily departed from his partner from.

There was no ring on his hand, and the thought terrorized him.

He splashed forward, spraying water up everywhere before he collapsed into the sand, desperately digging in the sand to try and find his ring.

“I didn’t…” he sniffled, the tears beginning to build as the pain raged in his chest.

The moon bathed him in light, illuminating the grounds of his past actions.

“It wasn’t worth it,” he sobbed, using his elbow to wipe away the tears to blearily search for the ring in the sand.

He dug and dug, sand burying itself under his nails but all he found was more and more ash.

Ash?

He paused, staring down at his hands, and suddenly the beach was swept away and the memories came rushing over him.

This is ash from a battle. Around him, nipping winds whipped around him and sent waves of ash flying through the air. The battlefield was quiet, save for the quiet sobs and mourning whines of those unfortunate enough to still live.

Someone yelled, and he looked up, alarmed, to see a man dressed in red rushing towards him with a sword.

He accepted his fate, as he was so tired, but then blood sprayed across his face, nearly blinding him.

When he wiped the blood away, his ex-partner was there, facing away from him.

A sword pierced through his chest, and his normally composed hair was a greasy mess, blood and dirt covering him.

He coughed, and there was someone standing beyond him, snarling words he could not understand, save for a string of, “You double back-stabbin’ traitor!”

He dragged his eyes up, and stared at the back of his partner’s head, eyes wide.

Despite the sword piercing him, he calmly raised his hand and snapped his fingers. From in front of him, the person screamed, his body contorting with awful snaps into nothing, blood splattering the ashen ground until there was nothing left.

His partner collapsed to his knees then, and when he desperately rushed forward, his partner held a hand up and yanked the sword out with a groan.

He glanced back, his deep blue eyes pained but overwhelmingly relieved to see him.

“Ludari,” he rasped, and Ludari could not help but choke out, “Etheles!”

Consequences of being seen assisting the head of the opposing army be damned, Ludari clawed forward and threw himself at Etheles, knocking the both of them into the ash.

Etheles groaned under the weight, but Ludari could not care, desperately clinging to him.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” Ludari sobbed into his blood-sodden shirt, fingers tightening in the sticky fabric.

Etheles’ hand came to cup the back of his head, fingers threading through the wild mess of silver hair.

“It-it’s okay…all that has…come to pass…are consequences for my own actions,” Etheles wheezed, and he forced Ludari to look him in the face. He smiled at him, though blood dribbled from his mouth.

Ludari shook his head but Etheles insisted, “Yes…nothing is your fault. This is…my fault.”

Slowly, shakily, Etheles reached up and withdrew a corded necklace from within his shirt. Ludari watched through blearily eyes and gasped quietly when he saw two matching rings next to each other.

With what little strength he had, Etheles snapped the cord, and reached up to grasp Ludari’s hand. He half sat up, groaning all the while, until he could press his forehead against Ludari’s, but quickly fell back to the ground, Ludari following with him.

“Ludari Beltune,” he gasped, and Ludari nodded his head silently, tears streaming down his cheeks. “Will you…give me…another chance? Even…in death….even…”

Etheles coughed, and more blood splattered the ashen ground. Ludari could not speak anything coherently, just nodding his head aggressively and shakily helping Etheles to don the rings on both of their hands.

Ludari kissed him then, pressing tightly to Etheles until Etheles put both of his bloodied hands upon Ludari’s face and gently pushed him back.

Tears sparked fresh in his deep blue eyes, and Etheles slowly whispered, “I love you. Wait for me…by the sea. I will…come back, just for you…always, for you.”

Etheles pressed one last kiss to Ludari, and in the pressing of their lips, Ludari felt Etheles still, and the pressure was lost.

Ludari, slowly, head dizzy and eyes closed, pulled back, hands pressed into the ash.

He clenched his hand, feeling the grit and blood upon his hands, but most importantly he could feel the solid pressure of a ring on his finger.

The wind picked up, and he distantly remembered that in a couple more weeks, there would be another battle with one, final casualty.

When he opened his eyes, he was on the beach again, waves gently crashing and warm air enveloping him in an apologetic embrace. It was night still, and the moon gazed down lovingly upon him.

When he looked down, the hole he had dug in the sand was still there, but the ring was gone once more.

When he turned his gaze towards the water, the same endless expanse of a starry sea stared back, only slightly broken up by one figure.

And, there, standing in the water, Etheles stood, clean and unharmed, in loose white clothes. A soft, adoring smile was spread across his face as he looked at Ludari like he personally hung the stars.

Ludari shakily stood, nearly toppling back over into the sand, and turned to face him.

Slowly, at first, Ludari began to stagger towards the water. But, when waves crashed into his ankles, he sprung into action, rushing forward and leaping into Etheles arms.

He buried his face into Etheles’ chest, sobbing and relishing in Etheles’ warm arms around him once more.

The moon seemed to give them a spotlight, and when Ludari pulled back, he could see Etheles’ handsome features clearly in stunning detail once more.

Ludari began to speak and Etheles shushed him with a long, lingering kiss.

When they pulled back, Etheles wiped away Ludari’s tears.

“It’s okay,” he mumbled. “I’m sorry I left you waiting for so long…that I had hurt you so badly.”

Ludari shook his head, at a loss for words.

“No, it’s not okay. I should have…” Etheles trailed off, and he shook his head as well. “It’s…of no matter now. But, darling, let me try this hopefully one last time.”

He knelt down in the water, waves gently lapping at his back, and from his pocket he pulled out a little black box.

Upon a white pillow, a star winked back at Ludari and Ludari couldn’t help but fling himself towards Etheles, not allowing him to even properly give his proposal.

Etheles embraced him then, squeezing tightly as if he were to let go for even a second, Ludari would disappear from his grasp.

“In death, in this forever after,” Etheles whispered in his ear, though he choked slightly on his words. “Ludari Beltune, will you marry me for one last time?”

Ludari nodded his head aggressively and pulled back, sniffling through a watery smile.

“Yes, in death, and in the next life,” Ludari whispered, and Etheles pulled him in for another kiss, the moon and stars as their witnesses.