Until I remembered his words.
“What’s my other love?” I tried to whisper into him, not wanting to break the ritual. What did he suppose my current love was, so that he referred to another one?
“The sea,” Dahr turned to me, a smile gleaming into the fire light.
I only then let myself feel the sand beneath my feet and understand that we were truly walking towards the beach. That the infinity of black in front of me was not a particularly heavy night, but waves covered in darkness.
I must have been too enthralled in his presence to let myself hear the clash of sounds that followed my ‘other love’, as he’d so adequately put it. Because right now, my heart beat for him entirely.
We stopped at the very edge of the sand, to the point where the waves stretched to tickle our feet and find their end before they returned into the water. I heard the others stopping as well and looked behind me to see a long procession of torches, slithering long into the night and stretching as far as the eyes could see.
It was a stunning view. The sea, veiled in darkness, the night sky, twinkling with stars and the thousands of flickering lights, filled with wishes of a better season. As far as faerie traditions went, this was one to be cherished. I wished at that momentto be a painter. To be able to capture this feeling, this moment reaped from dreams, the beauty of this gathering.
“Are you ready?” Dahr pulled my attention back to him.
“Ready for what?” I turned, suddenly scared about what came next. I mentally made a note to have words with Karisha, who didn’t want to tell me anything about what would happen at this party, so the surprise wouldn’t be ruined.
“Ready for what?” I leaned into Dahr, doing my best to whisper the words and hide my lack of preparation from the others. The last thing I wanted was to do something I shouldn’t be and put him in an embarrassing position.
“To make your solstice farewell,” he said, speaking at full volume, not hiding the fact that I had no idea what I was supposed to do.
“It’s not even solstice yet. Isn't the solstice on the 22nd?”
Dahr tipped his head and chuckled then. “It is the drake solstice we are celebrating, little flame. We’re three days ahead of the main camp, so might as well be three days ahead of their traditions,” he smiled wider, proud of this sort of rebellion they created for themselves, uncaring about the alienation they suffered from the other faeries.
“What do I do?” I asked as Dahr carefully placed himself behind me to rest a hand on my hip, shifting my body to fully face the sea. He moved the torch he’d been carrying easily within my reach.
“It’s a drake tradition,” he leaned in behind me to whisper into my ear, the wind carrying his voice deep down my skin. “Our ancestors were so used to losing their lives, that they celebrated each season as if it were a year. And every solstice they said goodbye.”
“Goodbye?” I wanted to turn to find him, but his cheek was pressed against mine and I couldn’t let myself break theconnection. Instinctively, I reached and touched part of the torch and his hand along with it, as he still held it high.
“In case you die by summer, you want to go without any regrets. So you say them. Speak them out loud. Whatever they are and however long it takes,” he explained, catching my fingers under his and forcing me to grip the torch firmer. “Once you are ready, you throw it into the sea.”
“Won’t it be lost?” I looked up at the torch, understanding the symbol behind it. Suddenly hit with the realisation. Why Dahr had looked at me with such wonder when I spent the entire day in the water. Why he’d told me his kind and water didn’t get along. And the sacrifice he made by letting himself swim by my side… if what he did could even be called swimming.
The sea symbolised their death. And they never walked away from it. Always trained by its side. Always lived by its side.
A constant reminder of their kind’s destiny. Of the impending doom they were all fated to meet.
Dahr must have guessed my understanding, because he kept silent by my side, helping me to hold the torch. I took a deep breath in. And released it. Letting myself feel the loss. The pain. The relief.
“I am ready,” I nodded, more to urge myself on.
I didn’t know if I had to do it out loud or if it was a personal ritual, but Dahr did not let me go. Did not release the warmth of his body from mine. And I had been more truthful with him than I had been with anyone in as long as I could remember.
“I regret my lack of strength, my lack of patience. I regret not creating a masterpiece to carry my name long after I am gone. I regret not remembering my family and I regret…” I stopped. The words felt empty in my mouth. I did not feel any deep throbbing in my chest. I did not feel panic riding through me, and by the love of god, I wasn’t even getting teary eyes.
What Karisha felt when her mate addressed the crowd, that was a feeling whose loss was worth regretting. But I wasn’t losing that. I was gaining it.
“I regret not taking the time to feel eternal. To love with my last breath and to feel until my heart bursts out. And I am grateful… for having another chance,” my mouth dried at the words, forcing me to stop.
I turned to Dahr then, questioning, and I was invaded by relief when he nodded in approval.
“Now, throw it,” he said with an encouraging smile.
“What about you?” Didn’t he want to say goodbye?
“I have no regrets this solstice,” the warrior said as he placed my hand over the torch and helped me yank it far into the sea, both of us watching the line in the sky, following the echo of the regrets I left behind.
