Matchsticks: A Dark Spirits Fairytale

by S. J. Sanders

  Turning away from her pitiful form, he stalked over to where Ocypete lay crumpled on the ground and picked her up. Holding her unconscious body firmly, he exacted the same punishment on her before he dropped her beside her sister.

  Opis lumbered over to stand guard over them, his expression thunderous and promising further retribution as Aquilo turned away to hasten to Agatha’s side.

  His heart clenched painfully in his chest at the sight of his bride. Agatha was alive, but just barely, her eyes glazed with pain, every inch of her skin blue, and where it wasn’t blue it was blackened and rotting from the harpies’ lacerations. A tear dripped from his eye and splattered against her cheek, forming a single frosted rose there.

  A painful moan tore from him as he sank down to her side. He gathered her up in his arms and pulled her into his lap, his hand stroking over her face and hair.

  “Agatha, please. Please do not leave me. I cannot continue this existence without you, having known you. I cannot lose my heart, soul, and all my hope to death. Please do not die. You cannot,” he begged.

  Her hand twitched against him where it was caught between her body and his chest, but it was the only movement she made as tears slowly seeped down over her cold cheeks. She could not move her lips to form words, but he saw the sorrow in her eyes, and it was enough to tear a hole in his heart. He glanced over at his friend, seeking some sort of council or aid, but the ogre bowed his head in grief and a roar of anguish left him.

  “You cannot die!” he cried out louder as he pulled her tighter to his chest, wings curling protectively around her. “You are the benevolent spirit of the winter wind, the hope of the new year that comes. The world cannot lose you. It cannot afford to, especially now.”

  “Indeed, it cannot,” a deep voice interrupted.

  Aquilo’s head snapped up as a golden light pierced the snow, and a tall golden god strode forward. At his side was the great griffin that served as his mount, but all around that beast were the griffins of the fortress. Veli slipped forward, his wings fluttering anxiously as he curled his great body into Agatha’s side. Apollo approached and kneeled beside him, his eyes trailing kindly over her. His gaze lifted and met Aquilo’s and he felt pinned in place, weighed and measured by his great king.

  He attempted to lower his head, but the god gripped his arm tightly, drawing his attention back up to him.

  “You can save her still.”

  Aquilo shook his head. “I have no way to reverse this. No way to heal her.”

  “You do, with some help,” Apollo replied, his lips tilting mysteriously.

  “Tell me… how?”

  The god nodded and cast his gaze around before alighting on something in the distance. Standing, he walked over and bent down to pluck something from the snow. He cupped it in his hand and returned.

  “Humanity is such a delicate, temporary state. I was granted permission to give Agatha five divine flames. Each of them is temporary unless paired with another element,” he said as he extended his hand, revealing a tiny gold matchhead.

  “You were the one who brought her to me,” Aquilo murmured.

  As Apollo nodded, he felt a barrage of conflicting emotions. He wanted to rage against the god for his deception and for putting Agatha in danger. And he wanted to thank him for bringing the most important being he had ever met into his life. No matter how deep his pain cut him, he did not regret even a moment of the time he had with her.

  “Thank you for the gift you gave us,” he said quietly. “Now tell me what you need.”

  “Is this the woman you want for all of existence? You cannot change your mind if we do this,” Apollo cautioned.

  Aquilo’s feathers ruffled in insult. “Yes, I am certain. I only want her. I want my Agatha.”

  A genuine smile curved the god’s lips. “Then I just need to take a spark of your divinity and join it to her soul with the flame of this last match.” He paused, his head tilting to the side. “This will hurt.”

  Aquilo nodded grimly. “Anything for Agatha.”

  He did not see it coming. A blade stabbed deep over his heart, and Apollo leaned forward, a sibilant word falling in a whisper from his tongue. At that word a power rushed from Aquilo, gathering at the blade point buried deep within it. He felt it draw out of him, separating from the spark of his being.

  As the blade pulled free from his body, Apollo smoothed one hand down his chest, knitting the wound back together as if it had never been as he held the glowing blade point eye level between them. Staring at the glowing light, Aquilo pushed himself upright and met his king’s gaze.

  “Now what?”

  “Now the fire.”

  In Apollo’s hand, the gold matchhead combusted in a golden flame. Bringing his flaming hand over the blade, he combined the fire with the light, making a blue flame tinged with gold at its edges. Apollo nodded his head and drew the blade back. He said nothing. Gave no warning. He suddenly slammed the blade deep in Agatha’s chest.

  Aquilo cried out as her back arched and she screamed. She screamed as the blue fire from the blade consumed her. He reached out to her, desperate to knock the blade away and extinguish the flames, but Apollo blocked him with one hand until a pair of large arms circled him, holding him in place. Even Veli hissed and jumped back, fur and feathers standing on end in agitation as he paced anxiously. Aquilo was not so easily defeated.

  Furious, Aquilo struggled against Opis’s steely grip.

  “Let go, damn you!” he roared.

  The male did not respond but merely tightened his grip.

  As Agatha gurgled and shrieked, Apollo stroked a hand over her flaming hair fondly. “Shh. It will be okay. I know it hurts now, but I am with you. I’ve always been near, waiting for this day. The pain is only fleeting.”

  “How could you?” Aquilo snarled.

  His king lifted his head and met his gaze frankly. “There must be rebirth. Nothing is made without being unmade, one season yielding to the next. You know this as well as I. But life returns and we hold hope close to us in the darkest of nights, however we may experience it. Is that not in part what the solstice is about?” A gentle smile lifted his lips once more.

  Aquilo bowed his head, unable to contradict his king’s words. As his body relaxed, Opis released him and stepped back to rejoin the harpies once more. He nodded to his friend in thanks that he did not really feel. But he understood the reasoning. It was useless to fight against the will of his king. Moreover, he had nothing with which to combat Apollo’s logic. A new life, even an immortal life, always came from death.

  Instead, he stared down at his bride, witnessing her agony so that he would never say that he turned his gaze away from her suffering for even a moment. He would share it and help her shoulder it as much as he could.

  Ignoring the heat of the flames, he gathered her into his arms. The fire seared him for a moment, but then died away until it faded down into her flesh and disappeared.

  His hand smoothed down her arm in wonder. Although the black lesions and rot were gone, her skin was still inhumanly blue. Not the blue of ice, but the light brilliant hue of a blue flame manifesting in flesh.

  Her breath sighed from her, and she shifted in his arms before she blinked up at him, her same gray eyes of a cloudy winter sky staring up at him. Her brow furrowed slightly as she raised a hand to trace a fingertip over the tear tracks staining his cheeks. It lasted for only a moment until her eyes locked onto her hand with an expression of wonder.

  “What…? How?” she whispered.

  “A gift,” he replied in a choked voice as he helped her to sit up.

  He knew the moment that she recognized Apollo because her eyes widened.

  “You gave me the matches,” she said, and the god grinned in response to her observation.

  “So I did, and everything worked out wonderfully.”

  She frowned at that. “I’m not so sure you can call almost getting eaten by harpies a plus.”

  He had the good grace to loo
k remorseful. “Yes, that was something I had hoped to avoid, but there was little I could do to interfere once things were set in motion. The fates are stubborn beings, something I hope you never have to learn for yourself. Unpleasant goddesses.” He sighed. “I am just pleased that we could save you in time.”

  Aquilo lifted an eyebrow at him. “Your presence here was just in time, thankfully. I am curious, however. Would your presence and assistance here not violate your noninterference orders?”

  Apollo’s grinned widened with a hint of mischief. Although not a prankster like his younger brother Mercury, he was not above twisting things to suit him when necessary, if he considered it worthy.

  “I did not break any rules outright. I did not interfere with the harpies. I left that completely to you. I merely stepped in at the last minute to assist with Agatha’s transformation to divine state. That is part of my duties, in any case, so it was not technically out of bounds.”

  Aquilo chuckled, but Agatha was pushing herself to her feet, looking down at her new form with wonder. Although she still wore her human clothes, which had gone unharmed by the divine fire except for the large tear where the blade had plunged into her chest, her human body was entirely transformed into a divine one.

  “I am immortal now?” she said, astounded.

  “As befitting the bride of Aquilo,” Apollo said.

  She glanced over at Aquilo curiously. “Are we married?”

  “As far as I am concerned, you are my wife,” he said stiffly. “We are bound together forever regardless since bringing about your divine form.”

  Her hands slid to her hips and she lifted an eyebrow. “That doesn’t sound terribly romantic. Can’t you at least pretend to ask me to be your wife?”

  He gaped at her in surprise. “You are serious?”

  “As a heart attack,” she affirmed. Her lips tilted up as he continued to give her a baffled stare. “Come on, if I’m going to be married, I want at least some part done right.”

  He nodded reluctantly and cleared his throat. “Would you remain with me in my fortress, by my side, ruling the northern reaches as my bride?”

  Agatha laughed and threw her arms around his neck. “Absolutely!”

  He hugged her close, enjoying the press of her body against him that, now immortal, took on an entirely different sort of warmth. There may not 63+5

  ]be a great celebration or ceremony in honor of their joining, but they could rectify that later for the lupi and the residents of the mountain to witness. Perhaps he might even lure a dragon or two.

  “Well, we should do this officially then,” Apollo broke in. He wandered over to his mount and took a handful of Hyperborean grain that, when scattered over the earth, would bring crops fruitfully wherever they were planted. This handful of grain he bound with a white woolen fillet from his own hair and presented it to Agatha with a kiss pressed to her cheek. “As Aquilo guards my holy garden, you will be a shining light in my place when I am absent. This grain is yours. Keep it safe as a symbol of your power and status.”

  Gently, he took her free hand and placed it in Aquilo’s and removed another fillet of wool from his hair to bind their hands together. “You are joined now as completely as two souls could ever be.”

  Aquilo stood there, his heart feeling as if it were about to burst, and he stole a glance down at Agatha and found her beaming up at him happily. She leaned into him, and he curled one wing around her, ignoring Veli who attempted unsuccessfully to push his way in between them. Dropping a kiss to the top of her head, he held her tight, feeling the warmth of love, devotion, and eternal hope flowing between them.

  One matchstick burned had brought her to him; the second had shown him joy. The third roused his heart, and the fourth brought him love. But the fifth matchstick gave her to him to keep when the matches could have easily burned out and her light extinguished with them. Drawing her tighter to him, he vowed silently to never part with his little light, his matchstick girl.

  Epilogue

  The following solstice

  Agatha stood in the great hall of the fortress, head covered in golden flowers plucked from Hyperborea and brought by those same northern maidens who had come to witness her official marriage with Aquilo. There were even three dragons who occupied the mountain, although they were disappointingly attending in human form—well, humanish form—for the ceremony. She had seen them in their true forms only from a distance as they approached the fortress. The inclined their heads politely as she walked into the ballroom on Aquilo’s arm, her wheat clutched gently to her breast.

  She smiled at everyone as she passed. Her smile widened as she spied her lupi guard. Kadana stood at the head of the guard, as usual. She had one of her pups with her who was trying to seriously stand at her side but seemed to break out in fidgets every few minutes with barely constrained energy. That energy seemed to fill the room as all the lupi clans of the mountain squeezed into every free space. Even Selvans, the god of the Eternal Forest, was there with his human wife.

  Diana winked at her from her husband’s side, and Agatha felt her heart lighten with amusement. Although it was several days travel between the Hyperborean Mountains and the Eternal Forest, and winter was too busy a time of the year for her and Aquilo to do much traveling, she found she enjoyed visiting with the forest queen. As much as she loved her guard, the lupi, and Eltha, she found it comforting to know another human-born woman.

  All the same, Eltha was the one she leaned on the most. She had become a surrogate mother figure for Agatha, and the ogress couldn’t be happier. She had worked hard over the last year helping Agatha breathe life into the fortress. Even now, the solstice tree in the corner of the room was in part due to Eltha’s assistance as they spent weeks preparing the fortress for the solstice ball. With the conclusion of the ceremony, this would be the first ball that their fortress would see.

  She couldn’t help but to be a little nervous about that. She glanced around hastily to make sure that the tables of refreshments were well-stocked and all the decorations were in place.

  “Relax. Everything is beautiful, although not more beautiful than my wife,” Aquilo murmured from her side.

  “You told me that last year when Apollo returned with us to the fortress,” she whispered back. “It didn’t help then, and it’s not helping now. You know I’m going to worry and fuss until the evening is over.”

  His wing folded flirtatiously around her. “Perhaps I shall whisk you back to the lupi village. You seemed quite free—and delightfully uninhibited, I might add—last night while we were there.”

  An undignified snicker escaped her. “Perhaps I would enjoy that as soon as we can manage to escape,” she murmured. “Just not too soon. We have to at least try to make an appearance for a while. Until then, you have to behave.”

  “How can I resist my wife?” he teased. “My life was a cold empty shell before you came. I can never get enough of you.”

  “Evidently, seeing how you had me several times already before the guests arrived,” she said with a giggle.

  “It was not enough,” he growled huskily, his breath stirring her hair. “Have I ever told you how grateful I am that you came and restored life to me?”

  She glanced up at him, her heart so full that she could barely remember what it was like before. “I think it’s safe to say that we saved each other. Given the choice, I would do it all over again.”

  His lips curved in an answering smile. “I do not think my heart can withstand a repeat performance of nearly losing you. So instead… shall we dance?”

  He stepped back and held his hand out as music rose in the air. Agatha chuckled as she recognized the same wild song that they had shared their first dance to.

  “It wouldn’t be solstice without it,” she agreed, placing her hand in his as he drew her forward into the steps.

  And so they danced, and the chiones danced too outside the ballroom windows, and over the northern hemisphere of the mortal world. A dance of hope,
love, and renewal that touched lives everywhere as families drew closer together at their hearth fires, murmured words of love, and exchanged heartfelt gifts. They danced as people embraced and wished each other a joyous holiday.

  They danced and they loved, and for one day, the Hyperborean Mountains shone with all the brilliance of the dawning sun and the promise of a new year and new life to come.

  Author’s Note

  Since writing The Mirror, I had been undecided on whether or not I would continue to write fairytale retellings in the Dark Spirits universe. It wasn’t until a couple of different stories came to me that I decided to go ahead and add to the collection. Staring with a holiday novella seemed like a great way to get things moving in the right direction. Next month, meanwhile will see a rerelease of The Mirror under the new branding, with a new cover and another 12,000 words added to the manuscript. In the spring, I have it on my schedule to write Glass Slippers, a dark spirits fairytale retelling of Cinderella an elvish court and maidens are collected yearly who attend a ball. I am very much looking forward to it!

  Now there are words that may look familiar in this story, but that is generally based on coincidence. The name of the lupi species has nothing to do with Corruption of the Rose, in both cases it is just using the latin word for wolf. When I wrote Corruption of the Rose I hadn’t planned on putting a wolfish species in this world but decided that it sort of fit with the mythic narrative of the region and in connection specifically with Apollo etc. So there is that to keep in mind. The second thing was that it was pointed out to me that in shapeshifter literature that luna was used for werewolves and regina for felines. In this case, however, I’m going once again with the latin. This world has nothing to do with the common shapeshifter fiction out there. So I wanted to clear those two things up in case it caused any confusion.