Rest & Ruin

Lilith’s feet touch the ground, tickled by each blade of grass. She shivers as a sharp gust of wind cuts through her wings. After a long day of the Chase, they’re hot to the touch.

She knows she’ll have mere moments before they show up. She unsheathes her dagger and pulls out some fruit, sitting below a tree. From there, she’s out of the empty clearing where she’s most vulnerable, but just close enough to watch the moon reflect on the pond in the field.

She knows better than to lead them here two nights in a row, but last night had just been so magical. The moonlight had brightened their face in a way Lilith loved too much.

There’s a fluttering behind her, breeze changing. They’re here.

“Aha!” They say, right on cue, a knife at Lilith’s throat from behind. She takes a slow breath. They’ve danced this waltz so many times. “Caught with your guard down.”

There’s a handful of seconds where it is perfectly silent, save for the cicadas coming out for the night and the soft ripples of the water.

Lilith feels the knife lift from her neck and watches them take a few steps towards the pond.

“Careful, Ash,” Lilith hisses quietly, though she tries to appear just as relaxed as she had with the blade to her neck.

“Or what? Is someone else out here trying to kill me besides you?” They turn around and walk towards Lilith. The last minutes of sunlight catch in their wings.

“Ash…” Lilith warns, sucking on a slice of her fruit, yearning for the energy it’ll provide. “Sit,” she tells Ash. They always listen when Lilith makes this particular request. She’s so tired, they must be too.

Silently, Lilith hands over the second half of her fruit. They take it, and the pair sit in silence as they eat, watching the sky as it fades to black.

The moon chases the sun and Lilith mourns for it. For what can never be. “I’m so tired,” Lilith speaks softly, staring at the pond.

“You’ve brought me here twice now in our Chase.” Ash changes the subject. “Why’s that?”

“Three times,” Lilith corrects, “We chase each other every day. Aren’t you tired?”

“I like our game.” Lilith gives them a look and reaches out, brushing soft hair past their ear. Ash sighs, “You know I am.”

“Then kill me already.”

“Lilith—”

“That’s how it works. The universe paired us; if we don’t kill the other, our life force becomes too weak to survive. You know how it works.”

“I don’t want your stupid life force. You keep it,” Ash replies petulantly. “And I do know how it works, thank you.”

“Ash,” Lilith cups their jaw. “I’m too tired.”

“Don’t you want to live?”

“Of course, but why should we both die?” Lilith asks for probably the thousandth time since they both realized they didn’t want to kill the other in some sort of sick trick of the universe.

“Because I don’t want to live a life knowing I took yours.”

“Kill me or not, you’re taking my life. You leave me to die slowly. A quick slice to my neck and—”

“Lilith!” Ash protests.

“I’m so tired.” Lilith rests her head on Ash’s shoulder.

“Rest,” Ash whispers, moving Lilith’s head onto their lap to sleep. “Tomorrow.”

When Lilith wakes, she knows Ash will be gone. This is the game they play.

If only she could cheat the universe, figure out a way for them both to live.

As is their unspoken routine, there’s freshly picked fruit in a small pile in front of her when Lilith wakes up.

Lilith feels even more fatigued than she had yesterday, but it’s always easier to play along in the mornings.

Ash will be miles ahead by the time she begins. Lilith will spend the better part of the day walking carefully through the forest. The ache of her wings worsens each day, but not much can be done for a fairy with such issues.

She’d been born this way, a wing slightly smaller than the other, crooked just enough to hurt but barely noticeable by eye. She’d trained harder than anyone else, knowing that when the time came, she’d need it.

In the earlier days, Lilith—eager to survive—was relentless; she would win. The day their pairing made itself known, Lilith had started the hunt with rigor. She’d taken off into the forest that lines the edge of the kingdom, as is the right of passage for her kind, and began the Chase.

She’d been afraid that day, terrified, but she knew she couldn’t let it show. It would be a sign of weakness, and her other half would sense it.

The first time they’d found each other, they’d fought earnestly, blades clanging against each other in a haunting rhythm as they fluttered through the air. Lilith had been taken aback by their beauty and had almost let her guard down. But she’d felt it. The pull every fairy feels for their other half—their pairing—the very thing that tells you that this is the one you must kill.

They’d fought each other viciously until Lilith had felt that familiar ache in her left wing. She’d overexerted herself and knew that if she’d wanted even a small chance of surviving, she’d have to flee. With one last swing of her blade, hoping to give herself at least a head start, she’d dropped down below the treetops and taken off in a sprint.

Her wing had taken from her many things, but had given her an advantage here. She had speed by foot that rivaled most by wing.

Lilith had managed to evade Ash for several days after that, taking the time to regain strength and rest her wing.

But Ash was a skilled tracker and they’d never let her get too far again.

They were an even match, of course. Two halves of the same soul will always be so in sync. Every fairy’s pair will meet their stride—fight only as hard as they do—until one gets lucky enough to deal the final blow.

Lilith’s determination and grit could only be rivaled by Ash, who fought as brilliantly and cleverly as Lilith had both dreamed and feared. To meet a worthy opponent was as thrilling as it was dreadful.

But that one night…

Lilith had been trekking for days, and while her years of training came with great endurance, legs could only take you so far for so long. She’d needed a rest.

She’d knelt in front of a creek, placing her blade and bag beside her.

She’d been a fool.

“I think to die by your own blade would be quite poetic,” She’d heard from behind her, freezing with her hands cupped in the water. The voice was calm, contemplative.

Lilith turned her head slowly, finding her other half brandishing Lilith’s own dagger. It had been passed through generations of survivors, fairies who had won their Chases. A blade that represented her family’s persistence and strength. Now it would end their bloodline.

They surveyed the weapon, fingers tracing over the delicately carved handle.

“It’s beautiful.” They commented, voice still maintaining that thoughtful tone. “A beautiful weapon for a beautiful fairy.”

There was a strange pang in Lilith’s chest—a compliment.

Complimented by the very being destined to kill her. How cruel.

“What is your name?” The fairy asked, turning the dagger in their hand.

Lilith could find no reason to keep it from them. If anything, let them know, let her name haunt them for the rest of their life. “Lilith.”

“A beautiful name as well.” Their voice was quieter now, less sure. Lilith felt a sliver of hope bloom in her heart. Perhaps she could talk her way out of this.

“Yours?” She asked. They didn’t answer, focusing instead on the blade. “Is it not my right to know the name of the one who will kill me?”

“Ash.”

“Ash,” Lilith repeated, liking how it sounded on her lips. “It suits you well.”

Their grip hardened on the weapon as they spoke through a clenched, sharp jaw, “You know nothing of me.”

“I know you better than anyone ever will,” Lilith spoke carefully. “I know that you are filled with determination and are desperate to survive. I know you fight like you’ve spent your whole life training for this, but like you’re scared to truly hurt me. And I know you have more honor than to kill me with my own weapon with my guard down.”

“You don’t know that.”

“If you were going to kill me, unarmed, you’d have done it silently while I had my lips to the water.”

Lilith studied her other half’s face, taking in their beauty. They were handsome and beautiful in a way Lilith had never seen before, with dark glittering eyes and hair that curled wildly around their ears.

Had she been less cautious, she would’ve noticed her heart aching.

Ash tossed Lilith’s blade back into the grass and took a few strides backwards.

“Are you well rested?”

Lilith frowned.

“I am not a monster. I will not kill you without a fight. Do you have the strength?”

While she’d hoped Ash was as honorable as Lilith believed, they were still strangers. If she told the truth about the aching in her body, Ash could use it to their advantage—kill her right then and there. But that feeling in her chest told her to trust.

“No.”

Ash sheathed their dagger with a solemn nod. “Rest. I will find you tomorrow.”

“Wait,” Lilith called out, “How do I know you won’t kill me in my sleep?”

“There’s no way to know for sure, but I promise you, I am not so cruel.”

Sometime after that night, deep into Autumn, they’d stopped fighting with deadly intent. Neither would admit it, but they both knew. They were safe.

For Lilith, it was about trust. She’d noticed that Ash hadn’t been fighting as ruthlessly for a while. She had almost full faith that if she let herself be disarmed, Ash wouldn’t kill her. It was a risk, of course, but one of them had to die eventually.

Ash had pinned her to the ground, their knife to her throat as Lilith looked up at them, eyes searching.

They’d stayed like that for what felt like eternities, just staring, trying desperately to read the other. Until they stood, helping Lilith up.

Lilith knew then that she was safe.

After that, they’d take turns besting each other in combat, letting the other win. For now.

They both knew they couldn’t do this forever. With a soul split between two life forces, energy was running thin. They’d have to do something soon or succumb to a slow and torturous death.

It changed again with the seasons. As the sunsets grew colder, Lilith wondered how much longer the two of them could keep this up.

As she knelt above Ash—hands around wrists, pressing into the snow—she sighed.

“I’ll fight better tomorrow. I’ve not been resting well. Not with the cold.” Ash flexes their fingers, not making any move to escape Lilith’s grasp.

“Cold,” Lilith muses, but with her thighs pressed around Ash’s hips and their wrists clasped in Lilith’s hands, she felt warmer than she had in weeks

As if they’d plucked the thought right out of Lilith’s head, “Stay. We could keep each other warm.” Their voice as warm as their touch, they offered with a slow smile, “I swear not to kill you in your sleep if you’ll do the same for me.”

She couldn’t refuse.

“If only to regain our strength, then we return to the Chase.” Lilith reasoned.

Ash grinned widely, dimple popping. “Of course. We’ll kill each other in the morning.”

“Tomorrow,” Lilith agreed.

It became routine, chasing all day, only to huddle together at night.

In treetops and patches of moonlight, they’d whisper into the breeze.

They’d both spent one particularly cold night confessing their hatred for the Chase. Cursing the universe for its cruelty. It was all so unfair.

Somewhere in whispered words and snowy nights, Lilith found herself falling in love.

They’d spend the days fighting, but come nightfall, they’d settle together somewhere in the forest, warmer in each other’s company, heart to heart.

It was a comfortable routine; one they couldn’t keep up forever. Lilith only wished they could.

Now, in late Spring, they were truly running out of time. Lilith could feel her life force draining. Even walking was becoming a chore.

Sooner than later, one of them—if not both—would have to die. She started begging Ash nightly to finally end this. It’s gone on long enough. At least one of them should return to their families.

She felt that pull in her heart again, the one she gets when Ash is near.

That feeling used to incline her to grip her dagger tighter. Now, it brought her comfort. It didn’t matter that she knew Ash could kill her; that was just as comforting. It meant Ash would live on. And what Lilith wouldn’t give to ensure that.

Lilith had fought her entire life to win this game, but she didn’t feel much like playing anymore.

She slowed to a stop right where she was and waited for Ash to descend.

Lilith turned to face them, heart aching. She barely had the energy to fight back tears.

Seeing her face, Ash stepped forward, closing the space between them.

Lilith whispered, “I’m so tired,” just short of collapsing into Ash’s arms.

“We’ll stop then, sleep for the night. Rest. And then tomorrow—”

“You’re not listening to me.” As tears forced their way out of Lilith’s eyes, she met Ash’s, silently begging.

“No.” Ash shook their head vehemently, “No. Just rest. Tomorrow.” It had become a promise between them after all this time.

It was a promise to keep going, to fight—not each other—but for life. Their way of trying to hold on to what little time they had, pretending it wasn’t ticking away. Pretending the end didn’t come faster every day.

Rest.

Tomorrow.

It was ruining them.

“Ash, I…” Lilith didn’t know what to say, but she knew there would be no tomorrow for them.

“Lilith, I’m not doing this. Just rest. We have tomorrow.”

Lilith let out a small whimper, something splintering in her chest, “If only we did.”

Ash took Lilith’s hands and walked them both over to a thick trunk. They sat down against it.

Lilith, for the life of her, suddenly can’t remember ever telling Ash. It seems so preposterous that in their limited time together, she’d be so shy about possibly the most important part. She’s sure they must know.

But if this is truly it, it would be a shame for the words never to see the light of day. Ash should hear it, deserves to hear it.

“Ash, you need to know—”

“I know.”

“No, I need to say it.” Lilith insists. She places a gentle kiss on their hand, and just that touch gives her peace. She feels a bit stronger now. Just like all those nights together. “I love you so dearly.”

Ash smiles, but it doesn’t reach their eyes. “You are my favorite thing in this world, and I can only hope I’ll find you in the next.”

Lilith smiles at their words. “Yes, and that the universe will be far less cruel there.”

Ash laughs softly but takes Lilith’s face in their hands. Lilith feels safe here. For all her life, she’s trained to fight, to take, to kill. But now that she’s in front of Ash, at the very end of it all, she wants to choose love, even if it’ll kill her.

She leans forward, pressing a soft kiss to Ash’s lips. They’ve never done this, not in all their time together, but it feels so overwhelmingly right. Somewhere in the back of her mind, she wishes they’d spent more time like this, instead of wasting it playing this stupid game.

She wonders, somewhere even further back, if they’re the first. Perhaps in the centuries of fairy history, once upon a time, another pair had fallen in love. Are they the first to experience a love so torturous? Unlucky and ill-fated? She wonders if one of them had the strength to kill the other. Or if they died in each other’s arms, the same way Lilith and Ash would. She only wonders, though, because she won’t waste her final moments worried.

They stay like that, embraced and engulfed in each other. Lilith is ready now, she thinks—happy in her lover’s arms—but when she leans back, she feels a surge of power.

Energy.

Life.

It all comes rushing through her like a wave returning to shore.

She feels alive again.

She feels stronger than she ever has. Stronger than she was even before the pairing, before her life force started trickling out of her.

“Ash…”

Ash is looking at her with widened eyes, surely feeling the same thing.

“Did you… Do you feel that?” Ash asks, their face hopeful. Rejuvenated.

And, of course, it makes so much sense now. How has no one ever thought of this?

They are two halves of the same soul. Why wouldn’t they feel complete at last?

Centuries of fairies hunting their other half because one could not exist without the other, so the solution was—what? To kill them?

How had no one thought to choose survival, just to see what would happen?

This is the answer. Two halves united.

Stronger together.

They’ve had it wrong this whole time.

Lilith pulls Ash into another kiss and it all just makes sense. This is how it was meant to be.

“We have to—to tell everyone. This changes… it changes everything!” Ash laughs, gleeful as they ramble. “We must go back and—”

Lilith interrupts with another kiss, feeling life course through her, squeezing Ash’s hands softly. They can worry about everyone else later. “Tomorrow. We have tomorrow.”