K*H*W* (go to my profile :)
Chapter Thirty Six Azalea's Point of View
She laid awake, the tears still running down her face.
She moved off the bed and walked to the washroom. She couldn't remember where it was.
Azal?
I have no idea. Sorry.
Avalyn was sad that Azalea was forgetting who she was. Her hair, though it had been streaked with blond, was now completely black. Her eyes were cloudy gray, and Avalyn wished that she had never come back.
She was better off without me, Avalyn thought to herself.
She looked around the closed doors, nearly sneezing when dust hit her nose. She walked to one of the rooms and opened the door.
That's familiar. Azalea mused.
It's your room.
Azalea stepped into the room and gently closed the door behind her.
Everything in the drawers was a mixture of peach and gray dresses. She looked at the gray bedspread and the smooth wood furniture.
Why are your clothes still here?
I kept thinking she'd come home. The pain in Azalea's voice was tangible.
Azalea's hand went to the bedspread. She looked around, sighing.
Something wrong, Ava? Avalyn didn't bother correcting Azalea anymore. She was half-way gone. Why not make her exit comfortable?
You missed it here.
I'm me, and you're you.
Wrong.
If you say so.
Azalea laid on the floor of the room, looking over at the candle. Why did he do that?
Fernando wants to hurt us as much as possible.
Azalea went to the windows. Any view here?
If you like trees.
Azalea pulled back the curtains and blinked. I can't see anything. New moon?
I'd think so. Why are you up?
We can't sleep. Avalyn huffed.
I could sing you a lullaby. Pain flashed in Azalea's eyes.
You are me. I am you.
Exactly. I will hum the lullaby so I can sleep. Azalea looked discontented. That doesn't sound right, Ava.
Most things you say don't, at the moment.
Maybe I'm on passionflower again.
Maybe you've gone off the deep end.
Azalea laid down on the bed, her eyes closing.
How does it go?
It's a pretty lullaby. But my mother could only sing it best. She used to sing it to me when she came home to find me half-asleep. The early days, I used to stay up waiting for her. She'd sing it to me when she thought I was asleep.
A tear fell on Azalea's cheek. That's one of the nice things I can remember. My memory's going too fast. I can't hold on to the precious things.
Where do you think the memories are going?
To purgatory? Where I'll eventually end up. Where else? Azalea sniffled.
I'm sorry.
Don't be. Azalea looked at Avalyn gently. I'll sing it to you.
"'Goodnight, sleep tight little dreamer. No more tears. In the morning, I'll be right here. Send your dreams where nobody can find them. Hold them tightly, but be ready to let them go. There is no 'goodbye' when it comes to your dreams. Let your body disappear into the night. Shut your eyes tightly, and fall asleep gently. We say 'goodnight' and not 'goodbye', I'll be here waiting for you to wake. And we say 'goodnight' and not 'goodbye'." Azalea sang softly.
Avalyn drifted off quickly, and she could dimly hear a little girl calling her name.
Rapunzel's Point of View
I pinned Eugene against the wall with my hands.
"Answer me!" I begged.
"I did it because myths are true." Eugene said it for the third time.
"Eugene!"
"I don't know how!" He confessed, and I let him go. I took a step back, and I jumped when Michael spoke behind us.
"He's an ancla."
"A what?" We turned to him.
"An anchor." Michael looked at the two of us, slightly amused. "He's an anchor. Your anchor, to be precise."
"You lost me at 'he's an'," I mumbled.
Michael chuckled for a moment. "Flowers have soul mates, too."
Whoa. "What?" Eugene looked at me, and then at Michael.
"You two are married, soul mates. If you weren't, you'd have divorced each other when Azalea, Nathan, and Dwayne were arrested. People who stick to each other, even when they're angry with one other, are soul mates. They complete each other."
So far, that made sense.
"Why do my eyes glow then?" Eugene asked, sitting down.
"She was born a sun flower, more or less." Michael gestured to me. "Soul mates find each other no matter what. You found her tower, and eventually, she saved your life. She healed you, and once you two. . ."
I squirmed when Michael's voice trailed off.
"What? Once we what?"
"When did you two last. . .?" Michael cleared his throat suggestively.
Did he just ask-
"Be honest." Michael said before I could consider lying.
Eugene and I turned bright red. "Um." I looked down, feeling hot with embarrassment.
"Nothing to be embarrassed about." Michael said soothingly.
"You just made it worse." I put my head in my hands.
"When?" He asked calmly.
Great. "Last week." Eugene answered for me.
Michael blinked, nodding in thought. "I thought I heard-"
"You heard nothing!" We both snapped at him. Michael jumped, looking taken back.
"Of course not." He smiled knowingly, and I turned another shade of red.
"What does our bed-life have to do with this?" I mumbled.
"When you two bond like that, the flower's magic in the two of you grow stronger, resulting in new powers or heightened senses." Michael raked a hand through his blond hair, blinking his dark brown eyes. "Rapunzel, you can actually feel wounds now, I think. You know how hurt someone is and what is bothering them, without knowing how they received the injury. Eugene, it appears that you can take away pain."
"What happens to my hair?" Eugene demanded.
"Blond's not your color?" Michael teased.
"I'll go blond?" Eugene gasped.
"I don't think so." Michael shrugged. "But be prepared."
I nudged Eugene. "You know, I never told you this, but I've got a thing for blondes." I started giggling when Eugene looked a little warm in the eyes.
I repeated Michael's words in my head and something stood out. "Heightened senses?" I blinked, and then I looked at Eugene. "Close your eyes. Tell me what you see."
"Funny." Eugene prodded my side. "Am I supposed to see something?"
Michael took the lead. "We'll have to see. Try it."
Eugene rolled his eyes playfully for a moment, before he closed his hazelish light brown eyes shut. He sat there, unmoving.
I looked at Michael in confusion.
"Don't talk," Michael mouthed to me, and I nodded, showing that I had heard him. I looked at Eugene again, and traced his handsome features with my eyes.
Something changed in Eugene's brown hair. A strange streak of color seemed to drip on the top of his head from over him. The color was a shade of brown, almost honey, and drifted down the tips of his hair, coloring it.
Eugene opened his eyes again, and just like that, the honey in his hair was gone. But his eyes were gold and blank.
"Eugene?" I asked in a whisper.
"Yes?" He answered in a low voice, and his eyes didn't go to my face. They stared passed Michael and me, and I realized he was looking at something we couldn't see.
"Can you see anything?" Michael asked quietly.
Eugene nodded his head once, and the moment was eerily slow, like he was half-awake.
"What can you see?"
"The flowers." Eugene murmured. His eyes started scanning the wall, though we knew he wasn't looking at the wall. "I see the flowers. There's so many of them."
"What color are they?"
"They're gold and silver. And white, I think." Eugene blinked, still not looking at us. "There's one in the middle but it looks different."
"How so?"
"It looks a little bit like a rose, but it has five petals like the rest of them." Eugene squinted. "I think I see thorns on them, and the petals are wet with something sticky. Sap, maybe?" He sighed in frustration.
"How does it feel there?"
"Peaceful. It's quiet, wherever I am." Eugene's words chilled my blood. "I don't think people feel anything here. No pain, hunger. Sadness, either."
"Where is he?" I looked at Michael for help.
"It's all true." Michael mumbled under his breath, not hearing me. What's true?
"Where is he?" I asked again.
"Estrella."
"What?"
"The comet's belly. Stella's womb."
Stella? Did he mean Rosemary's other form? Estrella was a new name.
"Why is he there?" I wondered.
"He can go there mentally."
"Why?"
"I don't know. I'd have to read more." Michael frowned.
"Who are they?" Eugene asked suddenly, and he sat up, his gold eyes wheeling.
"Who is who?" Michael's eyes flared with panic.
"Three people are here." Eugene's eyes looked around to a fixed point on the wall.
"Who are they? Can you see?"
"They have blond hair." Eugene squinted. "They look familiar. They're walking to me like they can see me."
We waited; Michael was patient while I was not.
"One has auburn or red velvet hair. Hazel-honey eyes. The other has black hair. She just spoke. . ." Eugene paused. "Azalea?"
Michael and I froze.
Eugene swallowed before he spoke.
"The other one is Blondie." His hand went to my shoulder. "She's with them."
Eugene blinked again, and then gasped.
"What is it?"
"The flowers are dying!" Eugene's voice cracked with pain. His eyes widened in terror and sorrow. "Something's turning the petals black."
"We've got to get him out." I put my hands on Eugene's shoulders to shake him.
"Don't touch him!"
"We don't know what's happening. We can't see what he does."
Michael sucked in a tight breath at my words.
"Sage." Michael breathed, and I felt my blood begin to boil. Why was he just sitting there?
"Michael!" I snipped. "We have to get him out."
Eugene was still talking. "They're not burning, but they're dying. That strange one isn't. The one like a rose; it's still there."
"Rapunzel, don't." Michael warned.
"How do we bring him out?" I cried.
"He'll come out."
"When?"
"The stars are burning." Eugene choked.
"Michael!" I pleaded.
"The sun's gone. I think the moon fell." Eugene's gold eyes grew dim. "The flowers are dead."
"Michael, please."
"Wait." Michael said firmly, and I grinded my teeth in frustration.
"Why would I be with them?"
"Maybe I'm in a form of purgatory?" Eugene offered, but Michael's serious eyes told me different.
"Maybe." was all Michael said.
Eugene got to his feet and whirled around, his eyes staring at the wall behind him. Michael and I looked at the same wall, seeing nothing but a wall. "Eugene?" I asked.
"What's this?" Eugene touched the wall. "It's like a shield of some kind."
"A shield?" Michael asked, and I suddenly realized that he was keeping secrets.
"A wall. It's clear but glowing." Eugene specified. "Why am I here, Michael?" Eugene asked.
"Because you're a ancla."
"What does being an anchor have to do with this?"
"You know where people go when they die." A strange emotion darkened Michael's face.