Author's Note: After two years spent on other stories working on POV and other writing skills, I'm returning to this story. Thank you to all who have patiently waited for this story to resume.
I heard a song that inspired this chapter. Bluestone Alley - Congfei Wei (piano tile 2). Newpage Piano - JayM played it beautifully on YouTube, with so much emotion. Read this chapter after Silvermist calls "Sleet!" while you listen to that song - it brings so much emotion of the words to life. The last 30 seconds of the song where it slows down is the perfect fit of "Heaven" to the final paragraph. If I were to make this a movie scene, it'd be the perfect song, as the music portrays the love growing between the characters.
Too much time alone to think and only a tiny cell to pace would drive any fairy insane. But it wasn't just that — it was everything that dangled just out of reach. If Silvermist couldn't convince Lord Milori that the creature existed, he'd be left here to rot or be exiled. In the Alamur world, this would be a kind way to live out the remaining centuries, but that view was too late after a taste of this Bright Fairy world, a taste of his Silvermist. His Silvermist. She wasn't his and never would be. But, never to see her again...he sank onto the cot and wrapped his arms around his middle. A pain constricted deep inside and created nausea and sadness. It was hard to breathe. Then tears blurred the faint glow of the single torch. To spend forever without ever again feeling her joy, hearing her laughter or seeing those big brown eyes sparkle with her innocense...it was a torment worse than any an Alamur could dream up. And to leave her without protection, at the hands of the creature after her, it would breed a madness every moment to grow worse every hour. If her light faded because he wasn't there to keep her safe, he'd escape from this dungeon and let the Alamurs take him —
"Captain!" Lord Milori stormed in. The door slammed against the stone wall and bounced back, groaning at the abuse of the old, damp wood. Three soldiers flanked him with torches. Anger creased every line of his face.
Standing tall in the chains, he swallowed down the humiliation when Silvermist entered and hung back near the door. It was shameful enough to be sentenced without her here to witness his sins laid out before being condemned to darkness forever.
Lord Milori held up the orange bead. "What creatures have orange blood?" His tone didn't give room for anything but an answer to the puzzle.
He held Lord Milori's piercing glare. "I've never seen one in the lands I've been."
Although the truth, it was the wrong answer. Lord Milori shot to the cell bars and held the bead through the bars, his finger and thumb white like he squeezed all anger out on the bead that wouldn't smash. "It's after one of our fairies! Tell me — "
Jerking his head back from the odd scent that singed his nostrils, the strange burning swept down his throat into his chest. Intense coughing took hold as each breath felt like acid inhaled. He fell to his hands and knees as his belly convulsed with the force of the coughs that began to choke. Sugar came up and dripped from his lips to the stone floor.
"You're killing him!" Silvermist ran toward the cell as air ceased to exist. "Sleet!"
He collapsed on the cold, wet stones, and vision slowly faded in suffocation.
Lord Milori stared down in shock as she pushed him away. Then she dropped to the ground as the guards tried to unlock the cell. She reached through the bars, with tears streaming down her beautiful face. "Sleet, hold on. Please," she wept and laid her cheek on the floor to look at him. "I'm right here. Stay."
The moment her hand touched his, there was only peace. Sins, loneliness and guilt all melted away, and in their place came love, serenity and peace. There was no room for fear of dying, not in her arms. Humans spoke of Heaven. If such a place existed, this must be what it felt like there. Her beautiful eyes were the last thing seen, and her voice the last sound heard as the darkness came. If only there'd been one more moment to say he loved her and she'd be alright without him. Her gentle touch was the most precious of all...because it held so tight with love. The touch of her was the last sense to fade.