Chapter 169: Master of Death

Chapter 169: Master of Death

Chapter 169

Master of Death

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It was getting beyond difficult, Sylas sighed, to die. It took him nearly four hours of brutal sodomy to kill himself, and all the pain that entailed. He was so hung over it that, after being reborn, all he could do was saunter back to his room and collapse. He felt empty, like a glass of water left too long in the sun.

Opening up the bottle of wine, he poured himself a cup and drank, sip by sip, but it did little. He was already numb, as though perennially hazy drunk. Memories drifted like leaves in the wind, his mind a torrent of collisions. Forcibly shaking it off, he returned to his senses slowly over the course of the day and began training, once again.

By now, it was just the optics of time--he barely thought about it, doing it all on instinct. His body told him when he was done. This time around, it took record-breaking 13 days to return to his vaunted peak. As most times before, Asha didn't come to visit him for the duration. She usually stayed away for a few weeks after the rebirth, in part because she had to catch up emotionally unlike him, and in part because she seemed to have learned it was best not to bother him so quickly after death.

On the 16th day, while he was having a silent breakfast with Ryne and Valen, he saw her peeking from the corner window. These days, few things could still rev his blood flow, and she was one of them. Even after so long, so many years, each time he would come back, and each time hed see her for the first time, in some ways, it truly felt like seeing her for the first time. Her snow-white hair and eyes that yet remained unmatched framed the face that anchored him, as above so below.

She waved her forward, causing Ryne and Valen to glance back in confusion. There, she walked in from the snowed-in castle wearing nothing but a fiery-red dress, a change in the long-standing motif of white. Valen turned forward and eyed him strangely, a faint smirk escaping the Prince's lips.

This is Ababababababa, Sylas rumbled. Shes a voodoo witch who predicted Id die on the 44th day of the 44th year of my 44th birthday. She slapped him gently across the head as she sat down while Ryne and Valen snickered.

Who are you calling a witch? she quizzed, unceremoniously joining them for the meal, pouring herself a cup of milk. Last ones a blur. Care to elaborate?

Was quite brutal, he replied. Tender eyes do forget.

How charming. When are we leaving?

In a couple of days.Updated from novelbIn.(c)om

Youre leaving? Where? Valen interjected.

Just some cautionary business, Sylas replied. Why? Are you going to miss me?

You do worry me, Valen smiled back. Promise me youll stay out of trouble?

No can do, my dearest Prince. Trouble seems to find me like beetles find their rolls of dung.

You have a strange obsession with comparing things to shit, Asha called him out. Do we need to talk about it?

No, not any time soon, he replied.

If you say so.

Three days passed swiftly and the two snuck out in the middle of the night, while the fog continued to descend. It was a strange sight--beyond eerie of caught by a humans eye, even. A pair of humans trekking through waist-high snow-laden lands wearing nothing but a casual dress, and a pair of trousers. No jackets, no boots, no shawls or scarves or gloves. Not even a lounger for supplies.

And yet, the two walked casually, as though taking a romantic stroll through a spring-flourishing park. They remained silent deep into the night, following a familiar path north through the creepy and desolate trees.

Were really doing this, huh? she asked at the break of dawn while the faint glimmers of the sun barely managed to pierce through the layers of ashen clouds.

Sure, why not? he replied, glancing at her with a smile. You scared? If so, you can go back.

And leave you without your favorite wine? I have no heart!

You worry too much, he said. Ill be fine.

... she remained silent as he came to a sudden halt, caressing her cheeks. Women love with words, and they love with affection, reaffirmation, and a symphony of songs that their hearts sing.

And men dont?

Some do, sometimes, he replied. Most, though, dont.

How do you love, then? The men, I mean.

Just as a woman can make a man feel like a knight in shining armor when hes just a fat couch-dweller, Sylas said. A man can make a woman feel like a princess of a kingdom when, well, shes not. A loud noise in the night, a hefty bark or a howl, and the crashing skies. Well stand in front of it all.

... at your own peril? she asked softly.

You should rest, he said.

And you?

Well, sometimes, you see, men dont wait for the crashing skies, he chuckled. We choose to crash them.

... be careful, she warned, softly kissing his hand.

A strange thing to say to an immortal.

Im not saying it to an immortal, she added, looking up at him with a faint smile.

See you, he said, leaning forward and kissing her forehead.

"Not if I see you first," her grasp lingered on his fingers for a second longer before she let go, her gaze glazed in sorrow and want. He didn't turn back, speeding off as the snow began to melt. As though springtime came, tiny patches of green grew from the soil at impossible speeds, a trail framing his vanishing figure.

He commands death, dear doe, a voice spoke into the silence that was the world, causing Asha to look to the side. It is time.

... there was a momentary silence before a burst of white light washed over the forest.

Dont weep, dearest doe, the voice crackled like a distant thunder beset with sorrow. All things end.

I wont end, the white light replied. He wishes to die. He will never follow me.

You have never asked.

I do not need to ask.

You all but need ask, the crow said as the white light transformed, leaving a snow-white doe standing on the patch of dirt. The crow flew over gingerly and landed on the does head. It is time for me to go...

I will redo the ritual, I must have made a mistake--

There was no mistake, Asha. Our mother told us--one is forever, and one is for now. I held on the last cycle, for you. But now... you have found someone.

He... he--

It is okay. I know I will always live on in your heart. And it is okay for someone else to reside there, Asha. After all, your heart is the expanse that knows no end. Ask him.

... soon.

Very well. Soon it is. There was silence... and then there was nothing--nothing but a single, falling, black feather that melted upon touching the ground, as though it was never there. Much like its beholder.