Crescent (Old Version)

+ Part 28 +

I held that poor dead girl in my arms, rocking her gently until her body grew stiff. I smelled the rot bubbling up from under her skin hours after her breathing had stopped. When I finally pressed her eyes closed with my palm, the morning light shone and graced the side of her face with the last gentle thing the world could give.

Something I promised. Something that wasn't mine to give.

I didn't know how long I held her. I didn't know what time the servants came to carry the other bodies away. I didn't know where Ceth had disappeared to. But, no one bothered me where I sat until long into the day when someone appeared and gently touched my back.

I barely felt it.

I felt so- lost... I felt so far away from the cold air, from the fire battling warmth into the air, from the aching my body felt from sitting in the same place for so long.

Moira was the one to pull me to my feet. I didn't have the strength to fight her, to shove her away. I just held Saura's hand one last time before I knew she, too, would be carried away. My hands shook as I tried to wipe the blood of her wounds from my clothes. It had long ago dried and stained dirty red patches into my white clothing. I clawed at it.

I wanted it off, away.

My mind wandered to the soldiers slain in the forest. Or the guards that had their throats slit at the party. I thought only of the bright blood spilling freely from their bodies or the smell of decay that I couldn't seem to get out of my nose.

My feet stumbled on the entryway to my room. Somehow, we had gotten back. My bed was unkempt just as I'd left it, but scalding steam wafted from a a fresh bath being poured in the bathroom.

I went to it without the thought of anything else, Moira's voice like a distant echo behind me. She said something I didn't register before she left, and I lowered myself into the tub without even letting it cool. Something told me it stung, something me told it hurt. But, the feeling of it never came.

Saren never came to train me. The servants never came to remind me about breakfast, or lunch, or whatever meal was to come next. Time felt like nothing. Nothing at all. And, I only moved when dark had fallen, the water of the tub like a pond of red around me, and I heard a voice behind me:

"Brenna?" It was Moira's voice again, only this time when I turned, she had a tray of steaming food that made my stomach howl at the sight.

Eat. Breathe. Move, a voice told me.

Saura's small reddened body flashed behind my eyes. That poor girl is dead.

You aren't, a voice reminded me.

Moira didn't have to help me move this time. With shaky arms, I lifted myself out of the tub and found a change of clothes from the armoire in my room.

I dressed slowly, ate even slower, and mumbled "thank you" as Moira turned to leave. Her lips were turned down, eyes small- the same pitying look I'm sure I'd given her before- but she bowed and left as soon as I'd finished my plate.

The moon shone ivory bright again when sleep finally pulled me into itself.

The nightmares of blood and snow returned. I saw the little girl's eyes begging me for help as the life drained from them. I saw the rabid look in Ceth's eyes as he snapped her neck. The dream of it tortured me again and again and again. And I was sure I'd remember it forever.

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He was psychotic, I decided as I stared at him over dinner the next day. Handsome- with a charming mouth, two emerald eyes that could draw anyone in, and golden hair that gleamed when he ran a hand through it- but psychotic. And, I hated him even more for all of it.