A Sky Beyond the Storm

I wish I could live a thousand lives so I could fall in love with you a thousand times

You are broken. But it is broken things that are the sharpest. The deadliest. It is broken things that are the most unexpected, and the most underestimated

Would that we all knew the cracked terrain of each other’s broken hearts. Perhaps then, we would not be so cruel to those who walk this lonely world with us.

You got there first my love, I envy you so, for how will I endure without you?

How much pain exists in the world because we cannot get past what has been done to us, because we insist on inflicting pain right back?

Emifal Firdaant,' I say to him. 'You've said that before. What does it mean?' I cannot quite look at him when I say it. 'May death claim me first.' 'Ah, no, my love.' He gathers me close. 'You cannot go first. I could not make sense of the world if you did.' With that, he closes his eyes, but I cannot sleep. I stare up at the peak of the tent and listen to the rain drum down on the canvas. Emifal Firdaant, I beg the skies. Emifal Firdaant.

You are lucky enough to love someone who loves you back. He is alive and breathing and in the same vicinity as you. By the skies, do something about it. For however long you have. For whatever time you get. Because if you don’t, I swear that you’ll regret it for all your years

Thank you, Soul Catcher.” “Elias,” he says after a moment, the slightest bit of warmth entering those cold gray eyes. “From you I prefer Elias.

It should have been him dancing with you

Your mistakes only define the rest of your life if you let them. Don’t let them.

We are doomed, you and I. To offer more love than we will ever be given.

Can I kick him?" my brother asks. "I'm going to kick him." "He saved your life Darin." "A small kick," he argues. "It wouldn't even hurt him. Look at him, skies. It would probably break MY foot." "NO." "Fine." Once past Elias, my brother turns around and mimes a kick, grinning.

Part of me wants desperately to shove my memories of him into the same dark room where my parents and sister live. The room that houses all my pain. But that room should not exist anymore. My family deserves to be remembered. Mourned. Often, and with love. And so does Harper.

We are, all of us, just visitors in each other’s lives.

You have suffered. You have created suffering. You have killed. But you have also paid. With your life, twice over now, and with your heart, with your mind. You have guided thousands of lost souls. You have saved thousands of lives. You have done good in this world. Which will define you? The good? Or the suffering?

And while family can cause pain and make mistakes, it is never a burden. Never.

I have defied him and survived him again and again. He has tried to hurt me. But I will not allow myself to be hurt. He has tried to break me but I will not be dictated to by a man so afraid to fight the jinn that he must criticise a woman to make himself feel bigger.

We must understand the creatures, fey or human, who populate our tales. Respect them. Love them, despite the villainous things they do. We must see them. Else how will our stories echo in the hearts of those who hear them? How will the stories survive beyond one telling?

What a small thing it seems, to walk with the one you love. To look forward to a day with them. I marvel at the simplicity of this moment. And I thank the skies for the miracle of it.

I'm here because it's been months since you kissed me, but I think about that moment so often it feels like it happened yesterday. And because when I saw you go down in the battle, I thought I'd-- I'd tear apart the world if anything happened to you.

Or perhaps she’s simply beautiful, and looking at her feels like sunlight flowing into a room lost to the darkness for too long.

Nightbringer was the name humans gave him. Along with the King of No Name. But before that, he had another name. “Meherya,” I say. “Beloved.” He howls then, an echoing cry that breaks something inside me. But still, he hides away, for he is not the Beloved anymore either. He has turned his back on his duty and humanity. On Mauth. But in truth, humanity turned against him first. And Mauth, who should have loved the Meherya best, did nothing when his son and all that he cherished were destroyed. The Nightbringer gave Mauth everything—and Mauth repaid him with a thousand years of torment... “Nirbara,” I whisper. “Forsaken.” He turns. “Forsaken by humans and by Mauth,” I say, and the maelstrom grows more violent with each word. “Forsaken by the Scholars, who you sought only to help and who stole all that you loved. Forsaken by Rehmat, who left you alone with all your pain.

Ah, no, my love." He gathers me close. "You cannot go first. I could not make sense of the world if you did.

Sometimes, there is no reason. Sometimes you kill and you hate killing but you are a soldier through and through so you keep killing. Your friends die. Your lovers die. And what you have at the end of your life is not the surety that you did it for some grand reason, but the hard knowledge that something was taken from you and you also gave it away. And you know you will carry that weight with you always. For it is a regret that only death can relieve.

I've known him all my life, Harper. But when I was crawling through that tunnel, when I knew he was fighting and dying for me, all I could think was that I was so thankful it wasn't you up there. Because if it had been, we'd have died together.

But sometimes, there is no reason. Sometimes you kill and hate killing but you are a soldier through and through so you keep killing. Your friends die. Your lovers die. And what you have at the end of your life is not the surety that you did it for some grand reason, but the hard knowledge that something was taken from you and you also gave it away. And you know you will carry that weight with you always. 'You got there first, my love. I envy you so. For how will I endure without you?

For the Beloved who woke with the dawning of the world is no more. And for a single, anguished moment, the earth itself mourns him.

It is not all that I wanted. But it is not nothing either.