A/N: Okay, last oneshot is up, finally. I consider this a companion oneshot to my other Molly/Ignis fic, Spark, but it works perfectly fine as a standalone fic as well. I had it written ages ago, but since Day 12 of the theme challenge was pretty much a free space, I just figured I'd include this as my last one. - CCM
Ember
Sometimes death comes suddenly, unexpectedly. Seemingly out of nowhere, that spark of life inside disappears in the blink of an eye - like a blaze doused by water, quickly reduced to sodden ashes, the remains of what once burned with a fiery passion only mere moments ago.
Other times, death comes on much, much more slowly. A natural progression, the life within fades away little by little as time takes its toll; the embers of an old flame still glow faintly orange with inner warmth, but struggle to hold on to these last traces of heat as their existence comes to a dark, gradual end.
The Harvest King did not have much true experience with death. In his eyes, death was but a part of the natural cycle, something that affected the mortals below but was certainly of no real consequence to him, a god. While he and the other immortal deities across the lands were at least sympathetic to its sometimes devastating effects, in the end it had always been beneath them on a personal level, of little influence to their daily lives.
Death was simply a necessary step to make way for rebirth, and a common one when you had lived as long as the god had, watching over the land and all its inhabitants for countless centuries. Something that happened, and happened often, more regular and expected than even the changing of seasons.
The Harvest King was immortal, undying. Death was not something he had ever imagined would concern him.
But while it was true that the eternal god of the harvest would never fade away, not unless every single human in the land stopped believing in him completely, his own beloved wife Molly was mortal through and through.
It seemed that death had an effect on him, after all; even if it was not his own.
With Molly, the Harvest King could not recall ever feeling such a striking way. Never before had he cared so much about a mortal; he never expected any living being to capture his heart like she had, especially not as a mere human girl, a farmer. But somehow, she managed to.
And he knew, somewhere in the back of his mind, that this would happen eventually. Mortals didn't live forever, that was a given; not even a particularly unusual, special sort of mortal like Molly was. Their lives were puny, passed by in the blink of an eye, only but a moment in the life of an immortal being such as himself. He had warned her of this, but the ever persistent farm girl refused to back down.
He thought it would hurt her, knowing that her husband could never rejoin her in the afterlife as any regular mortal couple could; the thought that after this life together, they would be forever separated as she slowly faded away from existing memory and he lived on for all eternity.
But he didn't ever realize that he himself would feel such pain as his mortal wife's life slipped away from her, fleetingly like autumn leaves blown on the wind. He had never expected to fall in love in the first place.
He watched as Molly lay unmoving, but for the faintest rise and fall of her chest that marked her breathing, amongst the billowy blankets of the bed where they had first consummated their marriage, all those years ago. Only now, the poor farmer's frame wasn't just small, but frail, and she no longer glowed with an almost magical sense of health and vitality. Over the years, she had gradually aged and weakened, eventually struggling to complete the various farm chores she had once loved, whereas he remained as striking and powerful as ever, as a god should.
His blaze would always burn, eternally bright; in contrast, her warmth would gradually fade away, a fleeting escape reminiscent of the last few dying embers of a once brilliant flame.
He sighed. Why did it have to be like this? He was a god, after all – surely he would have had the power in him to have prevented this, if he had only tried? He was more capable of such miracles than anyone else, wasn't he?
But now it was too late, much too late…
He held her small hand in his, still surprised by how soft her human skin could be despite the years of farm work that had toughened her up, and felt the warmth that slowly escaped her mortal body like the final rays of heat given off by the last remaining ember in a once blazing fire. She was so fragile now, he feared he might actually break her if he held onto her just a little too hard.
"Ignis…" The brunette human coughed, fighting to speak, and he jumped at the sudden sound of her soft voice before leaning in closer to hear her better; the only mortal being who had ever addressed him by name. He had never heard her sound so weak before, and at this close range, he could very clearly see the thin lines that etched her unnaturally pale face and the fine streaks of grey in her short auburn hair, the wear and tear of mortal aging that he would never in his life experience for himself.
"I'm here..." He tenderly tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, brushing the skin of her cheek with the tips of his fingers. "I'm here for you, Molly."
"D-Don't go... please."
"I would never leave you," he assured her.
Satisfied, she smiled weakly up at him, connected by the touch of their hands. Ignis recalled the many times she had smiled up at him like that, her brown eyes bright and full of life.
No, he would never leave her... She might fade away like any other mortal being, but he would stay with her until the very end.
"I-I," the farmer coughed again, and the god could sense her growing weaker by the second, but she forced herself to utter her last words.
"I love you."
The Harvest King held his love in his arms one last time, and felt the combined solemn gaze of the Harvest Sprites watching him intently from the trees as they dared not speak and interrupt the tender moment. Molly's own special sprite guardian, Finn, blew his nose loudly into his minuscule orange cap, but another sprite quickly shushed him with a worried glance at the god.
"…Molly?"
She was cold.
The little farmer would not stir, would not speak again. To him, or to any other.
"No…" A pulse of anger shot through him, and Ignis felt it burn inside like a wild flame, threatening to singe the dry forest around them. The sprites gasped audibly and shrunk back in alarm, all too aware of the god's unforgiving temper.
A gentle feminine hand came to rest on his shoulder, power radiating from the touch of the woman's aquamarine aura, sending a pulsing wave of calm through him. The familiar presence of the Harvest Goddess.
In response to his counterpart's cooling magic, the Harvest King slumped forward over the edge of the bed, reaching out to grasp his wife's cold hand once more. Though the spell she cast on him was intended to be be soothing, the anger was instead replaced by a ripple of pure anguish, an emotion like he had never experienced before.
"You should take her back," Sephia murmured, standing just behind his emotionally weakened form. "Back to her farm, her home. The people of Harmonica Town will want to grieve for her as well. She will have a mortal burial on the church grounds, as it should be, and shall be praised as the hero who saved all of Castanet."
"But why?" Ignis felt the heat threaten to rise within him again. "Why did this have to happen? Couldn't we have done something to prevent this? Anything at all?"
They were deities, after all. Certainly, with their powers combined, they could have changed Molly's fate, couldn't they?
The Harvest Goddess shook her head slowly, her sea-blue eyes saddened but serious as they met her companion's fiery red gaze. Finn sobbed openly in the background, and the other Harvest Sprites fluttered forward to comfort him, small faces alight with concern.
"You and I both know that that could never happen. It is against the ways of nature to bring a mortal back from the afterlife when their time is due, even if it were possible." The ghost of a smile crossed her face. "Even we are not to interfere with the course of fate, once it has been set in stone."
Ignis nodded forlornly, his fiery anger fading within, and he could sense the sympathy in the goddess's gaze as she watched him. She, too, had been quite close to this tiny mortal woman.
There would be time to mourn for her; he had all the time in the world. Perhaps he would someday forget her, the special human farm girl who had captured his heart and saved the land, or else her memory might live on in his mind for all eternity. Only time could tell.
The Harvest King held his lovely mortal wife in his arms one last time before he would have to take her back to her farmhouse, where a human neighbor would soon come to check up on her and find her long gone. He brushed away the lock of chestnut-colored hair that had fallen into her face again, admiring the peace in her expression, as though she had merely fallen into a deep sleep.
Nervously, the little sprite Finn fluttered forward, his tiny face wet with tears as he came to rest gently on Molly's shoulder, his head bowed.
"Goodbye, Molly..."
I love you.