The Cycle’s Last Fracture Chapter 3: Chapter III - What the emeralds Take

Read chapter 3 of The Cycle’s Last Fracture by The_lite on NovelPedia.

Morning. The light through the window was pale and thin. “Rose.” Aqua’s voice was steady. She’d had hours to make it steady. “Come walk with me. I want to go back to the temple.” Rose looked up from her bunk. A beat of surprise — then a smile, warm and unguarded, the kind that arrived before she could think about whether it was appropriate. “Yes. Of course.” She trusts me, Aqua thought. She just said yes. I know. They walked without much talking. The forest was quiet the way it’s quiet in the early morning, everything still deciding whether to wake up. Aqua kept her eyes on the path. She did not look at Rose. This is the right thing. It’s the only thing. The argument she’d been making to herself for hours sounded thinner out here than it had in the dark. “Aqua. What did you leave there?” “I’ll show you when we get there.” “That’s strange,” Rose said, thoughtful rather than suspicious. “I don’t remember you leaving anything.” She almost pushed it. Aqua could feel her almost push it. Then Rose looked at her face and whatever she saw there made her stop — the look of someone who has already made a decision — and she let it go. She’s trusting me, Aqua thought again. She looked at me and decided to trust me. I know. She kept walking. Inside, the chamber was cool and still. Their footsteps echoed. The painted warriors watched from the walls, faceless and patient. Aqua’s hands were shaking. She reached into her pack and drew out the emerald. Even in the dim air it was luminous — that impossible green, the kind that doesn’t exist in ordinary light. It breathed in her hands, warm and familiar and already hers. “Aqua — that’s beautiful.” Rose stepped closer, drawn to it before she’d decided to move. “What is it? Where did you—” “I’m sorry, Rose.” Say it. Make sure she hears it. “I didn’t have a choice.” “A choice about what — Aqua — you’re scaring me—” She’s scared. She’s looking at me and she’s scared and she trusts me and— Do it. Before you can’t. “Aqua.” The emerald flared white. Rose’s body went down without a sound, and the expression on her face as she fell was peaceful — no fear in it, only that faint look of something left unfinished. Aqua knelt beside her on the cold stone floor. She didn’t look away. She let herself see it fully — what she had done, what it had cost, what it would keep costing — and she did not look away. I’m sorry. The words barely made it out. I hope someday you’ll forgive me. She looked at Rose for a long moment. She looked at the real smile still on Rose’s face — the one underneath everything, the one that had just appeared when Aqua asked her to come — and she let herself remember it. You said yes immediately. You were happy. I know. I’m sorry. Then she stood, and the emerald poured its light into her, and she walked out of the temple alone. In the cabin, at that same moment— Rory sat at the table and turned Rose’s dark green notebook over in her hands. Rose had left her bag. Everything in it. Which meant either Rose had left in a hurry, or she had left it on purpose. She never goes anywhere without this bag. Rory opened the notebook. Day One: We made it to camp. I hope it’s Aqua’s cabin. It is. And Rory too. I’ve been wanting to tell Rory something for a while. About the asthma. I think she’d take it fine. I think she’d be calm about it. I’m not going to tell her. I want this trip to just be the trip. I know that’s not entirely fair. I know she’d want to know. But I want to be just Rose for a while and not Rose-who-needs-to-be-looked-after. I think I’m allowed to want that. I’m not sure I’m allowed to act on it. But I’m going to. Day Two: There was an explosion. We found a temple. The exit collapsed. I had an attack outside and Rory found my inhaler before I could stop her. She didn’t say anything. Not a word. I told her I kept forgetting to mention it. She knows I was lying. I could see it. She let it go anyway, and I don’t know if that’s generosity or if I’ve just trained her to let things go with me a