Epilogue-2

A mark in the banister from where she had fallen and lost a few of her baby teeth. Her music room where she had first learned to play the cello. She pauses in front of her father's art studio, heart hammering against her ribcage. Theodore runs a soothing hand down her arm, lacing his fingers with hers. It is the strength she needs to push open the door. The air is stale, as she hasn't been in there since he was alive. Paintings line the walls and floor. She forgets how to breathe as she stares at the unfinished canvas on the easel in the center of the room. Everything seeming to fade away as she steps toward it. The image is nearly finished, the top half only partially unpainted. But still, it is clear what the painting is of. Her. Rosy curls and wide, innocent eyes. Arms stretching out, reaching for him. She is young, maybe five or six. And behind her, millions of stars seems to blink with life. The milky way sharp with blues and purples, swirling and mixing until it was real. It is beautiful, a memory and a fantasy immortalized in paint. Her ribs feel as though they were glued together, lungs unable to expand. Breath rattling as a soft sob leaves her. He never painted people. Claimed that it was too difficult, that he could never capture a person's soul. But this- There is an inscription in the corner, just above where he signed his name. Four words, twelve letters. Up in the Stars. This is her and she feels as though she is seeing herself for the first time. When she turns, they are waiting for her. In their arms, she cries with the grief of a fatherless child. They hold her until the world realigns, until she can feel her soul inside her body again. Always there for her. Always loving. The next morning, she rises early. Just as the sun has begun to awaken, she slips carefully from their bed. Tucking the covers back over Theodore as she does so. Dante lets out a soft snore as she slips a robe over her pajamas and silently opens the door. The grass is damp with dew under her bare feet, a scattering of songs beginning as the birds began to wake. She follows the familiar path through the woods, running her fingers along the rough bark of the trees. Sunlight slips between the leaves, a kaleidoscope lighting her path. Two left turns, a jump over a fallen tree she used to imagine was a bridge for fairies. A path Enid could follow blindfolded. And then, there it was. Trees lining the edges like guards on a boundary. Wildflowers curling their faces up to the rising sun. The clearing seems smaller to her now. It is a physical representation of how she has grown. Barefoot and bare hearted, she trails to the center of the field. Her head tilts toward the sky as she watches a small bluebird soar above her. Sweet chirps of freedom swelling with each flap of its wings. She turns back to the field as it disappears from view. There, in the shadow of a tree, wide eyes watch her carefully. Enid gasps, tears pooling in her eyes as a familiar deer crosses the field toward her. It is bigger now, no longer a fawn. But the markings are the same. Her hand tremors as she raises it to caress the animal's head. "Hello again." She whispers and the deer's wide eyes seem to sparkle with understanding. It presses its head more firmly against her hand, nuzzling against her wrist. There is the sound of movement both from before her and behind. A wolf emerges from the tree line and fear tightens like strings around her heart. It is somehow even larger than she remembered. Dark fur over strong limbs. A rumble of warning sounds from its throat. Blood rushes in her ears as the deer takes a step back from her. With a final glance up at her, the graceful animal turns around. Walking straight toward the wolf. She watches in awe as the wolf leans down to nip playfully at the deer's ear. The sounds from behind her grow louder and a deeper growl leaves the wolf. With the ease of familiarity, the deer presses its head into the wolf's neck. Like a touch of reassurance. Together, the two animals slip back into the forest. When the immortals reach her side, she knows that she had been wrong all those years ago. They join her in the middle of the clearing, arms wrapping around her. Three wolves and a deer. Yes, she had been wrong. The wolf hadn't chased after the deer for the hunt. He had chased the deer away from her because he had perceived Enid as a threat. It was to protect the deer. It was love. Not a predator and its prey. She turns to look at them. Her immortals. The men who would do anything for her. Who had given her the world. Enid burrows deeper into their arms. Three wolves and a deer. And she understands. On the other side of the world, a girl reads a letter. She is sat alone on a bench that once meant so much. Where she and her friend had chatted, had whispered, and giggled. The letter in her hands isn't quite as good as the real thing, but there is still a sense that she is there with her. "Where is she now?" A boy asks, settling onto the bench beside her. He wraps an arm around her shoulders, a boyish grin on his face. It had taken her a while to forgive him. For what he had done to her friend, even if it weren't by choice. But she loved him. And her friend had forgiven him long before she did. And that was enough. "They're in Wales. But she's coming back for my graduation next month!" She beams, leaning into him. The door of the literature building near them swings open, laughter floating from the students that are leaving their class. Even two years later, the building is infamous. A certain classroom visited by students regularly, attempting to imagine the events that had occurred within. It is the same with the largest lecture hall in the Psychology building and the auditorium in the music hall. Every student at Pennington University knew of the immortals. Knew of the small girl who had changed everything for them. The story of the four is like an urban legend, knowing it is a rite of passage for those who study there. It is passed between students, different variations and theories melding into folklore. Some say they were truly immortal, angels banished to earth for bad behavior. Others claim they were vampires, awaiting their mate. Tales exchanged over bottles at parties, in whispers between shelves in the library. Emilia counts herself as lucky to be one of the few who know the truth. That they were just men. And that she was just a girl. It was their love that was magic. "How is she?" He asks, just as he does each time she receives a letter. There is a guilt that still lives inside him. He will carry it for the rest of his life. "Happy. She's really happy." She smiles. For centuries, myths and fables will float throughout the campus about the immortal men who once taught within the school's ancient walls. Whispers will tell of the way the world seemed to hold still for them. How they were untouchable, unobtainable. Until her. Small and unaware, she had tilted the entire universe on its axis. The story of her will be woven with intrigue. But each telling will note her power, the way she fit perfectly with them. Like she was sent to this earth to love them. The girl who made them human. Whispers of their story carried by the wind, slipping down hallways and out into the air. They will tangle in the leaves of the trees, floating higher and higher. Into the sky, past the clouds. Flying up until it finds them. Up in the stars. ✰ ✰ ✰ ✰