The Reaper's Curse

Eyes Closed, Fingers Blind

Elara chuckles despite herself. The princess's burning gaze flicks upwards, towards her. "You really, really are merely a sheltered child," she says, almost as if to herself, her breath misting in front of her face. "Hatred? No one is beneath hatred. Certainly not these people."

She runs her finger along the length of the blade, letting her words hang for a heartbeat.

"Because hatred is what tethers them to this world."

The princess begins to tremble. "Please, do not say more. I am sick of your lies." 

"My lies?" Elara lets the dagger slide into her belt. The wound on her throat begins to stitch itself back together, the flesh and the blood entwining. Her eyes flicker towards the castle doors. Sairah had gone inside; the man from before is nowhere to be seen. She turns her attention back to the princess. "When have I ever lied to you?"

The princess seems to be at a loss for words. 

Elara smiles. "I can smell the resentment pooling from the souls. The regret, the rage, the bitterness, all mortals possess them. Some even live off of them."

The princess turns stiffly away and makes to leave. 

Elara allows her to take a few steps away before letting the poison spill from her tongue. "Malle sends her regards."

She sees the exact moment the words visibly fracture something in the girl. The exact moment the surface of the girl's simmering rage shatters, and her body plummets into the inky, sticky darkness. When she twists her head around, there is genuine fear glittering in her eyes. Fear and something close to sorrow. 

And then she crumples to her knees. 

Elara feels the breath suddenly rip from her throat. 

"Please don't hurt Malle," the princess whispers. Her fingers curl into her palms against the stone ground. "She doesn't deserve that. She has done nothing wrong⎯⎯⎯⎯!" She raises her voice, but then catches herself, as though afraid. Her eyes have begun to water. "She has done nothing wrong..."

Elara lowers herself onto one knee and extends her hand cautiously to brush away the stray wispy strands of hair shadowing the princess's eyes. The princess flinches backwards to avoid contact, but she says nothing else. 

"This is why..." Elara begins, trying to find the words. Her mind is reeling. "This is why you should never trust so easily. You will only end up defending the wrong people." Her eyes search the princess's face, looking for any sign of that familiar burning defiance. Yet she finds none. 

An ache pools in her stomach. She clamps down on her jaw. 

Do not sway. Do not grieve just because she resembles her. 

Elara catches the princess's cheeks in her hand to force their gaze to meet. "Malle is not a good person. She is a conniving and self-serving fox. One that has betrayed me for her own gain over and over again without hesitation. It would do you good to forget about her now."

"What do you mean by that? How can you possibly know more about her than I do? How could she have betrayed you?" 

The words sink in. 

"Unless⎯⎯⎯⎯"

The moment the realisation dawns on the princess, she slaps away Elara's hand and scrambles to her feet, her breaths rapidly becoming torn and ragged. 

"Say it isn't true," she pleads, desperate. 

Elara stays kneeled on the ground, quiet, her gaze raised past the princess towards the sun blazing overhead.