The Seventh Crow

Part 7

The next couple days dragged on. Someone had to force water and food down my throat. All saying the same thing, "the King ordered it."

This person the King wants to introduce me too must be very important. Why else would he go through all this effort? Never has he cared if I ate too little. He would still violate me either way.

They didn't bother taking off the restraints. I think they were enjoying it a little too much. They would force food down my throat and before I had the chance to take a breath they would shove more down. Or forcefully pour water in my mouth without giving me the time to breathe.

If I pulled on the restraints to stop them, it made it seem like a game. They would do it more. Laugh at every choking noise I made.

The door opens, light flooding into my cell. I brace myself for another force feeding. Hoping that this time they would go a little easier.

"Nox?" Alev asks. I lift my head up and see him walking closer to me. "Thank Djel, you're alive."

"You know Djel doesn't answer," I responded.

"Do the Saints?"

I roll my eyes. There aren't any higher beings. If there was, they would've taken me away a long time ago. Let every prayer end my life a year ago. Let my faulty noose work.

"There's a job," his voice goes soft. I feel him pull at the restraints. "I'm here to get you. Nox, it has to do with that Grisha."

My heart sinks. They couldn't possibly have already killed her. They probably are just having issues with cooperation. Yes, that's what it is. Dem's a fighter, she wouldn't give up so easily.

"Hurry up in there!" a soldier screamed from outside.

Alev's pace quickened. Once my left hand was free, I could finally sit up. I expected my ribs to hurt, but it was good as new. Maybe too new.

I look down at Alev's hands. His knuckles bruised. I grab his hand, distracting him from releasing my other hand.

"I didn't realize..." he starts.

I couldn't say anything. The emotional pain he must be going through. Yes, it's different for me. The mental and physical pain. But never did I think about how this affected Alev. Seeing me in ruins. Bruised and bloody. That takes a toll on a person.

"I'm sorry," I whisper to him. "For everything."

"Don't start. Sounds like you're trying to say goodbye."

And maybe I was. I've wasted so much of his life already. He could have a wife by now. Living somewhere away from soldiers and having a chance of Grisha retaliation. Being a fisherman, staying away from the people who hunt the Grisha.

"Let's go," he said, untying the other restraint.

He gently lifts me off the ground. I will admit that I was happy the other soldier was standing out in the hall and couldn't see how gentle Alev was being.

We took multiple twists and turns, heading back to that dark hallway. The last place I saw Dem. I should’ve fought harder. I should’ve grabbed a rifle and killed a couple soldiers before they could do anything to her. Probably would've ended in my death. While I hate the idea of it being from a Fjerdan hand, at least I'd be dead.

"Sten," the soldier said from somewhere in the dark hallway.

I listened. Alev's hands find my arm, turning me towards one of the doors. This isn't the door that Dem was in. She was locked in a couple more doors down.

The soldier slides his keys into the lock. Seconds later the door slides open. My heart stops. Legs giving away beneath me, but Alev steadied me before my knees met the ground.

Dem lays lifeless on the ground. Dried blood around her eyes, ears, nose, and mouth. Her blue eyes staring at nothing. The whites are lined with red. Blood pooling around her head and neck.

They moved her from the room. A way to toy with my emotions. Give me hope that she was still alive and well. Another way to break someone.

Alev forcefully yanks me into the room. I could feel the tears in my eyes, threatening to leave if I blink. I want to blink. I do. Take my eyes off her body. The lifeless body. But I can't.

"You have an hour," the soldier said.

Alev released my arm. I didn't realize he was gone. His presence that was giving me some type of strength, was gone until the door slammed closed.

Falling to my knees, I drag myself towards Dem's body. The moment my hand touches her body, the sickness returns. 

Stop it. Stop it. It's only Dem. She deserves someone to take care of her. Stop it.

I swallow the sickness down. Instead of being held in my throat, it sits in the deepest part of my stomach.
The tears were freely flowing now. Not like I had anyone to hide them from. Only me and the dead body of my friend.

"I'm so sorry," I choked out. "I'm so sorry."