Chapter 26: The Final Wish
The city skyline glittered like spilled glitter across the water. Kyle and Roha walked along the beach in silence, the sand cool beneath their shoes. Kyle had his hands shoved deep in his jacket pockets, and his heart was already doing its nervous little tap dance even though nothing had happened yet.
They walked past a couple of driftwood logs and a cluster of empty beer bottles. Kyle kept glancing at Roha's phone, which sat innocently in his palm like it was just a phone and not an ancient prison that had held him for centuries.
Roha stopped near a patch of wet sand where the tide had smoothed everything out. He turned to face Kyle, and the glow from the city lights caught the gold flecks in his grey eyes. "This is the spot."
Kyle nodded. His throat felt tight, like someone had shoved a sock in it. "You sure? We could walk a little more. There might be a better spot. Maybe with less sand. Or more sand. I don't know."
Roha smiled, a small thing that barely moved his mouth. "This is fine."
Kyle's hands were shaking inside his pockets. "Okay. Fine. This is fine."
Roha took his hand and squeezed it. That helped, a little. "Kyle."
"Roha, wait." Kyle's voice came out smaller than he wanted. "You remember your promise, right?"
"Which promise?" Roha's smile widened. "There were several."
"Not the abs one. I mean the important one." Kyle swallowed hard. "The one about us. Once you're free. You promised."
Roha pulled him close and kissed him. The kiss was slow and sure, and Kyle let himself melt into it even as a tiny part of his brain was screaming that this might be the last time. Roha pulled back just enough to look at him. "I remember. All of them."
Kyle nodded. He couldn't find words, so he just nodded again like a broken bobblehead. Roha looked down at his phone, and a strange light flickered across the screen. The phone trembled in his hand, then shifted and flowed, reshaping itself into the brass lamp. It looked small and unassuming lying on the sand, like something you'd buy for ten dollars at a flea market.
Roha placed it on the ground in front of him and stepped back. "I'm ready."
Kyle pulled out the folded piece of paper from his pocket. He'd rewritten it three times, exactly how they'd drafted it. The ink had smudged a little at one edge, but the words were all there. He unfolded it with clumsy fingers and took a breath.
His voice was wobbly at first. "I, Kyle Ashe, hereby make my final wish."
"I, Kyle Ashe, hereby make my final wish."
The words hung in the salt air. Kyle's voice steadied as he read, each line careful, deliberate, like he was placing stones in a wall.
"Roha is to be free from the lamp, never to be bound again. Roha will keep his current form. Roha will be free to choose how to live. Roha will have an identity, citizenship, and a place in the world. Roha will have a home, enough money to live comfortably, and a fulfilling career."
He took a breath, looked up at Roha once, and finished.
"And I will be okay with the outcome of my wish."
The last word had barely left his mouth when Roha's body went rigid. A shudder ran through him, violent and sudden, like something had grabbed him by the spine and shaken. His eyes went wide, gold flecks flaring bright.
The lamp started to buzz on the sand. A low, angry hum that vibrated through Kyle's feet.
"What's—"
The lamp shook. Hard. It rattled against the sand, the brass surface warping and bulging like something inside was trying to claw its way out. Kyle took a step back, heart hammering.
Then it cracked.
A sound like snapping bone. A thin line split the surface, then another, then a dozen more, spreading like cracks in ice. Light poured out of the seams, white and blinding. Kyle threw up an arm to shield his eyes.
The lamp shattered.
Pieces of brass scattered across the sand, some of them glowing faintly, going dim a second later. The light flared once, twice, then settled into nothing. Just fragments of broken metal and a faint wisp of smoke curling up into the night.
Silence.
Kyle stood frozen, arm still half raised, staring at the spot where the lamp used to be. Roha stood a few feet away, hands at his sides, eyes wide, breathing shallow.
Neither of them moved.
"Roha?" Kyle's voice cracked. "Did it work?"
Roha looked down at his own hands. He spread his fingers, flexed them, turned them over. Then he looked up, and the smile that spread across his face was the biggest Kyle had ever seen on him. Real and bright and almost giddy.
"I think it did."
The words hit Kyle like a wave. He let out a sound that was half laugh, half sob, and launched himself forward. They crashed together, Roha's arms wrapping around him tight, Kyle burying his face in his shoulder.
"You're free," Kyle choked out. "Oh my god, you're free."
"I'm free." Roha's voice was thick, wet around the edges. He held Kyle like he never wanted to let go, and Kyle held him back just as hard.
"Kyle."
Kyle opened his eyes, ready to laugh, ready to say something stupid and relieved. But the word died in his throat.
Roha was fading.
Not all at once. Just at the edges. His arms felt less solid, like he was made of fog and they were both slowly realizing it. The gold in his eyes flickered, dulled, brightened, dulled again.
"Roha?" Kyle's voice went high and thin. "What's happening? This isn't happening."
Roha looked down at himself, and something in his expression shifted. Not fear. Something quieter. Acceptance.
"It's okay."
"No. No, no, no." Kyle grabbed his arms, but his fingers sank through them like smoke. "You can't. You promised. You promised we'd have a chance."
Roha reached up and cupped Kyle's cheek. His touch was barely there now, a warm breath more than a hand.
"Thank you," he said. "For everything. For giving me a chance to experience living."
"Roha, stop. Stay with me." Kyle's voice broke. "Please."
"You'll always be my friend, Kyle. Always."
A tear rolled down Kyle's face. Roha smiled, soft and sad and grateful, and then his form unraveled. He scattered into motes of light and dust, drifting like ash from a fire, catching the neon glow of the skyline for a single heartbeat.
Then he was gone.
Kyle's arms closed around empty air, and he collapsed onto the sand, wet and cold, the broken pieces of the lamp scattered around him. The tide kept its rhythm against the shore, the city kept its glow, and Kyle Ashe sat alone in the dark, crying into his hands.