Chapter 25 Death was surprised when she had to drag Adena's vengeful lover to the Mors. His was the last soul she had expected to see awaiting her. He was quite unassuming-a Tele in the slums, a Wielder in the arena. But the powerful man did not struggle or beg. No, he had chosen to meet Mara. And it was Paedyn Gray who delivered him to Death. She now sits on the floor of a cell between two brothers-indefinitely, it would seem. The man lies cold on the floor, his soul no longer tucked beneath the dagger protruding from an unmoving chest. His still features look relieved. For he, unlike most, found peace in this fate. Mak was his name. Though, he no longer has use for it. Paedyn mourns this man, quietly and at length. Kai adorns one side, Kitt the other. The king frequently meets Mara's gaze from where she stands before the bars. She recognizes, indifferently, that this man's demise further stains Kitt's inky palms. But this, and the many other poor decisions he has made, does not perturb Mara. She is Death, after all. Who is she to judge the flaws of a hopeful human? Besides, her own moral compass is questionable, at best, and this boy is the first to notice her since this eternity began. He is now her true north (a dangerous bestowment of Death's affection). Everything else has faded away. He is her heartbeat. Mara does not stay long. This silent gathering around a corpse is quite dull. You see, Death has grown quite numb to grief. She finds it to be pointless, and above all, boring. Yes, she has other souls to attend to. Lenny and Blair sit on a lumpy cot in the slums. They have wisely relocated to the Imperial's home and are found splitting a loaf of stale bread. The Tele looks peeved. This looks promising. Death takes a seat on the floor before them, like a child preparing to be read an intriguing story. "I can't believe this is all you can afford." "I didn't become an Imperial for the money," Lenny mutters around a mouthful of dry dough. "Actually, I did it to help the Resistance." "And now that you've failed?" Blair asks, predictably demeaning. "You will remain an Imperial because...?" Said Imperial swallows. Mara watches him mull the question over. "Huh. I'm not sure." "Then quit," she supplies. A long moment passes in which they both pick at their portions. Death's gaze flicks between them. These two are her last resort for entertainment and are, as of now, failing miserably. "What if I went with you?" Lenny suddenly blurts. Oh, this will do nicely. Blair aims her sharp scrutiny at him. "What?" "Look"-he turns to face her fully on the thin cot-"we have already decided I'll help get you to Tando. So, what if I... stayed there? I don't know what I want, but I could figure it out," he says hurriedly. "There is no hierarchy of power there, and I would be closer to Ma-" "What are you saying, gingersnap?" The Tele looks terrified. Her chest has halted, hoarding all the breath in her lungs. Death flicks her wide gaze between the souls. She is very happy with her decision to leave that damp cell when she did. Timidly, Lenny meets his former assignment's (she is now so much more) piercing gaze. "I think, maybe, we could be enough life for one another." "No. Don't think," Blair orders. "Not about me. Don't place your hope in a hollow heart." The Imperial shakes his head, now teetering on the verge of annoyance. "Do you know how I found you in the slums that night you escaped?" Blair stares at him, her defiance wavering. "Because even then, I knew you," Lenny declares. "Your heart is not hollow. I listen for it in the silence. I find myself trying to memorize its unique pattern and hating that I can't." His words are a proverbial shake to the shoulders, and Mara cannot seem to look away. "Blair, do you understand?" He swallows. "I would know you by the beat of your heart alone. And I think that should count for something." (Mara remembers, bitterly, what it feels like to be on the receiving end of such a declaration. And yet, she has spent this side of eternity searching for any splinter of love-incessant and lodged beneath one's skin. Perhaps to reminisce on why she became Death and determine whether it was worth it.) Now the Tele's chest heaves as she stares at him in disbelief. "I'm not asking you to love me," Lenny continues softly. "Hell, you don't even need to like me. Not now. And maybe it's some sixth sense talking, but I am drawn to you, Blair Archer-bitch and all." He laughs helplessly. "And I don't know what to do with that other than follow the sound of your heartbeat, wherever it may lead me." Blair merely blinks at his profession. Death, for one, was thoroughly moved by the Imperial's words (though you would never be able to tell by looking at her). She has begun, tentatively, to believe in love again. Not the hollow promises of her past but the earnest companionship of her present. Though these souls hardly burn with an all-consuming love, they may begrudgingly blossom into something close. "That," the Tele begins slowly, "was unsurprisingly stupid." "Look, I know how it sounds-" "But for all the words you've said," she cuts in, "those are the only ones I haven't hated hearing." A wide grin begins its slow spread across Lenny's lips. "You feel it too?" Mara inches closer, her gaze falling on the Tele. "I didn't say that." "Your heart is beating very fast." "You can stay in Tando," Blair bites. "But if you ever want to be seen with me again, you will need some actual clothes." "Deal," the Imperial concedes. "Fine," Blair says curtly. "When do we leave?" "Once Paedyn is settled?" Lenny supplies. "I would expect nothing less." This sarcasm is accompanied by the rolling of her eyes. The Imperial, being quite accustomed to her attitude, ignores this. "I need to talk to her. She should know I'm leaving after the wedding." He stands then, stretching his long limbs. Blair huffs. "I'll be here." "I'll know." "By the beat of my heart?" the Tele blurts despite herself. Lenny turns, throwing a grin over his shoulder. "I'll follow the sound of it home." "Get out." Blair can hardly smother her smile. Deep down, she is a rather hopeless romantic, Death thinks. "Before I change my mind about letting you come with me." The Imperial does as he is told, leaving with a glowing soul and a giddy grin. Mara feels a bit saddened by the sight, actually. There is little more for her to study. And where a jaded version of her once prayed for this unlikely pair's demise, Death now finds their unique bond annoyingly sweet. But no matter their fate, Mara will meet them again. Likely in this Life. Most assuredly in Death. In a romance-themed observation show, several participants undergo a series of interactions and conflicts filled with love, misunderstandings, and power struggles. In the end, one couple rises to over...