Page 100 of Heavenly Bodies

Light bathed the room. Drowned it. The space was so open that she felt weightless. White stuccoed walls graced the chamber, while a small enclosed garden was displayed beyond the great floor-to-ceiling windows. But it was what filled the room that had her enraptured.

Sculptures and statues of all sizes lined the walls, some works-in-progress, others finished and polished. Miniatures of mythical beasts lay on a workbench in the centre of the room, while life-size statues were dotted around the workbench in various poses. She took a timid step towards the one closest to her—a woman cradled by her lover, their lips almost touching. She traced a finger over the form.

‘Do you like it?’ Enzo asked behind her, still in the doorway. She whirled to him.

‘Enzo, you created all of this?’ She spun around in a full circle, admiring the art.

He gave a sideways smile as he walked into the room, shutting the door. He came beside her, close enough for her to smell the amber on him.

‘I did. This is what I do to heal.’ He reached for the workbench and pulled a lump of stone closer across it.

‘Show me,’ she breathed. He gave her a small smile. Readying his hands, he concentrated as brilliant white beams began to shine from them. He expanded the beams until a pure, almost crystalline ray was projecting from his hands. He then manoeuvred it so it started to cut away at the lump of stone. Elara watched smooth curves form before her very eyes, therough lines carved and polished away. And watching him pour his love into his art, she felt her own jagged edges begin to soften.

The weeks that followed were some of the most peaceful of Elara’s life. Enzo lied consistently to Idris, promising that he had her under a gruelling training regimen, when in fact, each day, he brought her to his studio as he worked. Elara would bring piles of books with her and lounge on a chaise longue as he worked, the steady and rhythmic tapping of his light against the stone a soft music to her as she read.

During breaks, they would sit, basking in their little world as they sipped fresh mint tea. They talked about art and music and their lives as he worked. It became increasingly easier for Elara to talk of Sofia, to keep her spirit alive. She would recount stories of their adventures as children, their dramas as teenagers and the trouble they had both landed in countless times, Enzo peppering her with questions.

Some days Enzo worked on a project that he would not let her see, a towering block of pure white stone that glimmered whenever the day’s rays hit it. He kept it hidden behind a screen and she was only met with a small smile whenever she asked about it. Some days he asked her to be his muse, to sit draped on a couch as he looked to her and carved a delicate hand, or the wisps of hair covering a face.

Elara’s skin was beginning to glow again, the days walking through Sol tanning her face and the quiet peace she found in company with the prince helping her shine from the inside. Her frame began to fill out too thanks to the pastries Enzo force-fed her from Bruno’s, the little bakery next to hisstudio. The larger-than-life proprietor had taken one look at her when she’d walked in on the first day and given her a dozen pastries to take away. She became familiar with the other artists in the building too, the other establishments in the square, learning their names and trades with a smile as she found the confidence to walk amongst them, borrowing tools and running errands for Enzo.

From time to time, she would see Leo around the palace, always offering a smile as he hurried to the army barracks or training grounds, working overtime so Enzo could spend his time with her.

And Merissa…Elara had not dared seek her out. There was still a nonsensical guilt attached to the glamourer in her mind, as though it was an insult to Sofia’s memory.

But Elara had finally summoned the courage to visit Isra.

She’d still been afraid up until the moment Isra had opened her door, but the seer’s eyes had lit up the second she saw her, followed by an unrestrained hug. Isra had then bustled her inside, offering her tea and slamming the door promptly in Enzo’s face.

Since then, a few afternoons a week, Elara had kept an appointment with Isra to practise her dreamwalking. The seer was well-versed in realms outside of the living, and Elara found the escape another place for her to heal.

It was on one of her afternoons with Enzo, as they lay sprawled on the lawn of the small terraced garden, eating lunch, that Elara snapped her book shut with a sigh of frustration.

‘What’s wrong?’ Enzo asked, breaking off a piece of bread.

‘I’m annoyed,’ she replied, hurling the book across the lawn.

‘And what did that book ever do to you?’

‘The heroine of the story just lost all of her magick. Why do they alwaysdothat? She was so strong and powerful, and then at the end, she just gave it all up!’

Enzo chuckled, taking a grape from the platter between them. ‘So you’d never give up your powers?’

‘Never,’ she swore vehemently, curling a small shadow around her little finger. ‘In fact, all I want to do is learn more and more about them.’ She bit her lip, a question she’d longed to ask for a while on the tip of her tongue. ‘Do you think you could teach me?’

Enzo looked up at her from his food, his mouth full. ‘Teach you what?’

‘To sculpt. I know I don’t possess the Light, but I’ve been thinking about my powers, my shadows…I wonder if it would work?’

He got to his feet, excitement radiating from him as he pulled her up with him. ‘Let’s try.’

They hurried back into the room, and he pulled forth a small chunk of pure white stone, clearing the workbench in front of them. He eyed it, checking something, then came around behind her. His scent wrapped around her, and her senses focused on his closeness, how his breath was warm on the nape of her neck, smelling of mint and honey.

He cleared his throat as he lifted his arms around her, raising her own so they were held out in front of her. The callouses of his palms lay against the soft backs of her hands.

‘Relax,’ he whispered by her ear, chuckling, and she did as he commanded. ‘Now,’ he said, ‘I’m going to guide the Light and show you how to carve. Then you can try the same with the Dark.’

She nodded, smiling up at him. She felt his arms tighten and turned back as he began to create the power between his hands again. He barely breathed as he concentrated on infusing it through Elara’s own palms without harming her until bright white enveloped both. He took her hands with his as he widened them and elongated the solid shape forming.Then, ever so gently, he moved their hands in a dance as a curve started to take shape on the stone.