The Reaper's Curse

Autumn Wind and Her Scarlet Leaves

Elara had to learn from Sairah, upon returning from her hunt with her hands still sticky with mortal blood, that the princess has fallen ill with a fever. 

"What the hell happened? She was fine this morning."

"It was due to shock and...and grief." Sairah twists her hands, her forehead crinkled with worry. "Her condition isn't getting better even with rest." She undoes the knot of the herb bag tied to her belt and presses it into Elara's hand. "These are the herbs to reduce her fever. We've never needed medicine before, so this is all we have. Please make sure she eats all of it."

Elara clenches her fingers tightly around the medicine bag. She gestures stiffly to the twisted body of the sinner lying by the doors of the receiving hall, dirtying the polished marble floor with his filth. "Get someone to drag him to the dungeons, and then go find a healer. There must be one amongst the dead here. If not, find Malle. And hurry."

With the issue of the sinner dealt with, Elara heads straight for the princess's chambers. Her gut is churning as she storms down the hallway. She can't help but picture the princess's frail body curled up in bed, her lips pale as snow, her emerald eyes hidden behind the thin veil of her eyelids. The thought of it makes her chest ache. She forgoes walking and dashes through the shadows. 

It takes her eyes a few seconds too long to adjust to the darkness. The curtains have been drawn, and only a sliver of sunlight is able to flit through the gaps. But despite that, she's quickly able to make out the two figures on the bed; one belongs to the princess, the other a man. 

Elara bristles and her hand moves instinctively to the dagger hidden in the folds of her sleeve. "Who are you?"

The man eases to his feet. Elara's gaze does not leave his hands for a second. "That is my question. Who are you? Why have you broken into Her Highness's bed chambers?" 

"I am the lady of this castle. I go where I wish to," she says simply, gliding swiftly to the windows. Her hand sweeps across the curtains, brushing them back to allow light into the chambers.  

The princess stirs, her eyelashes fluttering against her skin, but she does not wake. 

Elara's eyes shift to the man's face, and her heart stops beating for the second time. 

A choking sound slips past her lips. "Xiddren." She wasn't hallucinating that day. He's here. He's here and he's right in front of her. She hadn't gone crazy. He's alive. 

"Were you the one who kidnapped Lilith?" Xiddren says softly, a threat in his voice, but Elara doesn't register his words. 

"Xiddren," she whispers again, her lips stretching into an unrestrained smile. She closes the distance between them in a heartbeat, her hand trembling, stretching out to touch his face. 

Xiddren flinches backwards and slaps her hand away before her fingers could brush his cheek. His brows have furrowed, his face tight with wariness and discomfort. "I am not Xiddren. You have mistaken me for someone else." 

Elara doesn't hear him. Her palm is throbbing, stinging, but she doesn't mind. She barely feels it. Without thinking, she throws herself at Xiddren, her arms coming to wrap around his neck. Her fingers are digging into the warmth of his skin and she feels like a girl again. She feels like she's home again. 

And then she's falling. She's falling backwards, the ground ripped from beneath her feet.

She crashes to the floor, and her teeth clamp down on the inside of her cheek. Blood gushes into her mouth, and the cloud of sorrow and euphoria in her head begins to dissipate. She blinks at the ground, her mouth hanging half-open.