Page 50 of To No End

If she knew the truth, she’d never let me leave—or worse, she’d attempt to join me, and I couldn’t allow that to happen. If she knew the truth, she’d never forgive our parents. She’d likely even fear having her own children one day. The dream of being a mother, was I willing to ruin that for her? Never.

I leaned over and embraced her, holding her longer than usual, as I wasn’t normally one to hug. I squeezed her tightly, taking in her floral fragrance, and savored the feeling of my other half for the last time.

When we pulled away, she looked at me and said, “Promise you’ll write to me, when you get a chance?”

I nodded, unable to lie again. She moved a strand of hair behind my ear, giving her a glimpse of our matching tattoo. Holding my hands in hers, she said, “May the light of the moons guide you back to me.”

She pulled me into another tight embrace, and I rested my head there on her shoulder for as long as she let me, doing my best to fight the sting of my tears.

Before returning to my room, I snuck down to the stable to say goodbye to Rain. I found him relaxed in his stall and began to brush long lines across his side, in between planting kisses along his snout and cheek. The stable hand appeared from the darkness, patting Rain gently.

“Fear not, my lady. I will take good care of him until you return.”

I nodded, unwilling to let him see me cry, and made my way back to my room. Upon arriving, I pulled out the list. It seemed like forever since I had last looked upon it. I crossed off twomore items, trying to ignore the memories flooding through me of Trace and I swimming night after night in the spring.

Only one item remained. I argued with myself that I had already accomplished it. Doesn’t getting a tattoo count as altering my appearance? I thought back to the night I’d made the list, unsure of what I had even imagined for that item, when an idea came to mind.

Carrying my bedside lantern, I walked over to my writing desk and sat before my mirror. I opened the drawer and pulled out a small sewing kit. I grabbed the black feather from Trace’s wing that he had given me, that I’d hidden away. From my jewelry drawer, I took out a small plain earring and untangled the wire from it, re-wrapping the loose end around the shaft and fastening the feather in place to the earring.

I pushed back a strand of hair, allowing the lantern light to reveal a reflection in the mirror of the one small earring already there. Then I took out a sharp silver needle from the kit and eyed it intently, twisting it between my thumb and forefinger. Hovering the needle above my ear lobe next to the first earring, I didn’t question if it would hurt.

I pushed the needle through. Rejoicing in the pain, glad to feel anything at all since numbness had been battling to consume me since leaving Versa’s side. I wiped away a tiny dribble of blood and pushed the feather earring through the new hole.

I tilted my head, admiring the look of the shiny feather peeking out in between locks of my dark brown hair. Wherever I went, his memory would be with me. I crossed the last item off the list. I turned it over one more time to reread Aster’s words. I had told myself I’d remember them but, honestly, didn’t know if I would. What did it matter anymore? I was about to find out what was in store for me, regardless. The need to unravel the riddled words felt like a hollow and empty endeavor. I lifted the parchment over the flame of a candle and let it all burn to ash.

Lose my maidenhead

Seduce a stranger

Gamble till I win

Get drunk

Alter my appearance

Help someone in need

Get a tattoo

Do something that scares me

Swim naked in the moonslight

Say my goodbyes

I hadn’t managed to get much sleep before the sun rose. I located the two notes and the sketch Trace had drawn. I tore off the bottom part of the drawing—his message to me—and added it to the pile of letters. I then folded and shoved them into my pack, unwilling to part ways with these pieces of him. I snuck quietly into Versa’s room and left the sketch of me on her bedside table for her to find when she awoke.

One might consider it bizarre to have a sketch of your sister sleeping, but I had reasoned that someday when I tragically didn’t return, she would be glad to have it. I took one more glance at her soft, sleeping face, my face, and turned away from her for the final time, my heart aching.

Downstairs, I stood alone in the dim, quiet foyer. Not even the staff were awake this early. The eerie silence was a somber backdrop to my departure. The pristine shine of the marble floors, the smell of floral arrangements wafting through the halls, the arched ceilings featuring detailed frescos, and the winding staircases leading towards the east and west wings. I closed my eyes to picture the expansiveness of my home, to take it all in one last time.

The elegance of the set table in the dining room. The family portrait hung proudly over the stone fireplace in the library, its ornate frame reflecting the pale blue shafts of light that streamed in through the windows high above.

My father’s office desk, laden with endless scrolls of maps and paperwork. My mother’s closet of fineries; fabrics of every color, shade, and texture. The two swings near the gazebo in the garden, where my sister and I competed to see who could go the highest. The sound of Rain’s hooves beating in an even tempo across the expansive grounds. This had been my home, and I wanted to preserve every detail in my mind.

Finally, with no more tears to shed, I opened the front door and crossed the gravel path to where my mother and father stood, a large carriage looming beside them. They seemed lost, out of place. A wave of sadness began to wash over me, blurring my vision.

But then I saw it. I wiped my eyes to be sure. This carriage was not our family’s coach. Its dark chestnut frame was not lacquered to a pristine shine, but dusty and ordinary. There was certainly no family crest to be seen on the door. I shifted my gaze to the driver and then to the guards on horses that flanked the carriage. Their clothes were pedestrian, but they were visibly armed.

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