Chapter Text
His first life ends on the Tailtean Plains.
She falls first, electricity licking her skin. His Thoron strike is just enough to force her to pull back. Not enough to kill her—his magic isn’t strong enough for that.
“Order your battalion back, now,” he commands. Her crumpled form lies still. White heat flashes through his blood. “Annette.”
She doesn’t respond. Her battalion scatters, screaming for help, abandoning her.
“Annette?” He calls, voice trembling. Nothing. Felix charges forward with a roar. A cavalier falls to his sword. The rancid smell of ruptured organs rots the air. Another falls to his magic.
She’s right there.
Overturned earth is soft on his knees. “Annette?” He whispers. She doesn't have a pulse. “Annette?”
The professor screams for him to retreat.
He cradles her body as the boar rends his head from his neck.
***
Felix Maneth is fifteen years old, and he hates horses.
“I hate horses,” Felix says aloud. He says it again as he cleans out the horse stall he was born in. Then again when he’s assigned to brushing their coats. His father, the head groom, finally cuffs him over the head before shooing him out.
“The lord and his young niece will be returning today. If you will not be of any help here, go make yourself useful in the garden. Lonato has been complaining about his leg.”
“Lonato always complains about his leg,” Felix grumbles.
“Felix,” his father warns.
“I’m going,” he gripes. “Anything is better than horses.” One of the stable hands bumps into him as he leaves. His scowl deepens.
Spring chill blows through his hair. The morning light spills over the horizon, crawling over the dirt and grass as he walks. A flock of sparrows takes off in a flurry of feathers.
At a leisurely pace from the stables, it takes ten minutes to reach the other end of the property. Felix continues walking. The grounds are peaceful, and the air is fresh out here. His mother waves at him from one of the mansion’s many windows. He waves back.
Wrought iron gates greet him as he turns the corner. They serve more as trellises than deterrents, the frames taken over by leafy vines. Some bees buzz past. They float from flower to flower, scurrying into the barely open blossoms to collect pollen. One flies too close to his face. He blows it away.
Really, he likes the gardens. They’re quiet. The work is soothing, if tedious, but flowers smell way better than the horses.
“Back again, Felix?” The gardener limps toward him. Sun-worn skin sags over hooded eyes.
Felix frowns. “Father sent me.” He stomps toward the shed as Lonato chuckles at his attitude. He steps over the aging threshold.
Golden dust motes float in his vision. Bags of seed pile high in the corners of the room. A set of books rests next to the door leading to Lonato’s bedroom. Garden shears of all sizes hang from the wall. He picks the heaviest pair.
Felix walks back out into the sun.
“You can set those aside for now,” Lonato says. “Please fetch the two smallest pairs.”
Felix rolls his eyes, but does as he’s told.
They start with the amaranths. Countless petals swirl upward to curl into the shape of a small sphere. A bit odd-looking really.
“They’re the young miss’ favorite,” Lonato explains. “This will be the first time she has visited in many years.”
Felix continues weeding around the base of the strange plant. The tall stalks brush against his long hair as he cleans the soil around them. His skin prickles under Lonato’s pointed gaze.
“What?” He asks with a growl.
“Nothing,” Lonato replies. He watches as Felix’s face slowly grows red. “She’ll be very pleased, that’s all.” His foot drags across the ground as he makes his way over to an unruly hedge.
Felix stares after him for a moment. “What does that mean, old man?”
Lonato collapses in the grass.
***
“Remember to attend to the pond as well. The lord and young miss will be arriving any minute now.”
“I know,” Felix says with a sigh. “Lonato, just rest. Your legs gave out and you hit your head. Mother already called the physician.”
Lonato scoffs. “I don’t need a physician.”
“Yes you do,” Felix retorts. “Now stay put. I’ll tend to the garden for now. You can return when you’re able.” He sets a jug of water by Lonato’s bedside before heading for the shack’s workspace. “I’ve already finished with the flowers. Relax, take a nap or whatever you old people do.”
“Don’t you go ordering me around, young ma-.”
Felix closes the bedroom door behind him. He pokes around for the boots Lonato keeps for wading into the pond. They’re a bit tight, worn from years of use, but they’ll do.
He walks out to sit on the stone pathway that leads to the pond. The boots slide on with a bit of tugging.
Pink sunlight reflects off the water. The glare cuts through his vision as he steps in, next to a small patch of water lilies. He curses. His feet slip as he tries to regain his bearings.
“Excuse me?”
“What?” Felix snaps. “Can’t you see I’m busy?” He squints into the sunset. Its blinding rays pour in through the gate. He can barely make out the shadow of a girl hiding behind the twisting ivy.
“I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to startle you,” she calls.
“You didn’t startle me,” Felix says. “But I am busy, what do you want?”
She steps forward. Her orange hair curls against the pretty white furs laying over her shoulders. Felix’s heart leaps into his throat.
Wind magic, ink, first love.
“Annette?” He whispers. She stares at him for a moment before shaking her head.
“Sorry, my name is Fantine.”
Felix frowns. “Are you sure?”
“I think I know my own name,” she says with a huff. “I’m just here to ask after Lonato. The steward said that he collapsed.”
He can see her clearly now. Blue eyes, round cheeks, soft lips that sang his favorite songs.
It’s her.
Fantine’s curious expression quickly turns suspicious. Her eyes narrow at him as she opens her mouth.
“My name is Felix,” he announces, sudden. Her mouth snaps shut. Nothing, not even a flicker of recognition.
“A pleasure,” Fantine replies formally. She dips into a quick curtsy. “Can you please tell me where I can find Lonato, Felix? Is he here or has he been taken to town?”
Pond water sloshes over the top of Felix’s boots and seeps into his socks.
“Lonato is in the uh, shack,” he says. “A physician should be arriving soon.”
Fantine nods. “Thank you.”
She walks off, pausing only to admire the amaranths before disappearing into the shed.
Felix watches her as she goes.
***
He’s dying. A futile, stupid death. He killed the woman he loves.
And he makes a wish.
Goddess, please.
Take me to wherever she is.