THE TENTH INTERRUPTION

 

‘Twas a deafening silence that ruled the witnesses of the Renewal. Edward’s flesh was solid marble, his heart a hammer, his will, crushed glass.

Cane’s purpling bruises matched his deep gaze, which he locked on Edward.

The Crimson King’s golden blade was shoved into Cane’s fingers, and Edward’s sword grew heavy in his hand. Cane’s bindings were cut, and Edward took a step to meet him. But they did not come more than a measure of paces toward each other.

The ivory-haired Red Prince smiled cruelly from the rink’s edge, along with the rest of Cane’s brothers. A measure of the nobles laughed.

Edward cast Cane a bleak smile. “It seems they got us, Brother,” he said.

Cane turned the golden sword in his gashed hand. He glanced back at the Reds like he might hurl the weapon into their multitude. “I’m sorry, Green. I couldn’t outrun them.”

Edward offered a small nod.

“Begin the Renewal!” a folk from the emerald banners screamed, and that was it—a thousand voices began chanting as two fairies landed in the crowd, faces ashen. Porethius’s hand found Gathadriel’s.

“It’ll be alright, Red,” Edward said. “Remember that you are loved. Perhaps not by those ashworms in crimson capes, but by One who matters more.”

Cane blinked, brows drawn, and Edward smiled as he glanced at the familiar banners with his family’s crest, at the Green villagers, at the wreaths. He recalled his early seasons chasing Ever through Timber Castle and tossing glass beetles in her hair.

“Green?” Cane dragged a step closer.

Edward glanced up, settling on the Red once-prince’s face. “Greater love hath no folk than this; that he lay down his life for his brother,” he quoted, dropping his blade and pulling a set of medallions from his pocket.

Cane’s burgundy eyes narrowed—he inhaled, but ‘twas too late. For, from the first moment Edward had seen Cane across the rink, Edward knew this was his cross to bear.

Popping erupted through the clearing when the Green Prince slapped the medallions together, and a spring of snow blanketed him in white. And as the flakes unleashed their fury, Cane’s shouts, along with the other sounds of Winter, died fast from his ears.

Quietness came with the light that followed. Edward’s spirit was approached by a warm, familiar prayer who lit the way, beckoning him with a giggle, a pleasant flit, and a flirt. And Edward Green found the Truth he had known was by his side since the day he had uttered that prayer by the fountain.

For the first time in many seasons, peace came flooding in like a warm hand to welcome him home.