A Bloody Crown

Chapter 12: Shadow

A knock on the door woke me up. Hesitant, I noted. Whoever it was, didn't want to wake me, or they were afraid.

I slipped out of bed, threw on my ivory robe, and went to the door.

"Kore?" I asked, my voice holding more surprise than I would have liked. He hadn't visited since the Marlia incident earlier this week.

He looked at my face, the cuts and bruises from training apparent. His eyes darted down to my knuckles, violet and maroon, and back up to my eyes. Kore's voice was quiet, somber. "I heard you needed a medic."

"From who?"

"Please, Aelfrun."

I debated for a moment, but eventually obliged, letting him in. I closed the door gently behind him, and walked over to the bed where he stood. My hands trembled as I lifted them to him, regardless of how much I tried to stop them, and waited for his actions.

He knelt in front of me, holding my right hand, and gently lathering on that same yellow goop from a couple weeks ago. Before anything truly changed. The scent hit me harshly, enough to make me nauseous.

After a moment of rubbing, he swapped to my left hand, and repeated the same motions.

He refused to look at me, gaze honed in on the kneading.

Finally, he took his gaze off my hands, shifting it towards my face. Never once did he look at my eyes. From cut to cut, bruise to bruise, his fingers danced. Traipsing around me, around the scars just below the skin. The ones he wasn't qualified to handle.

Scars from abandonment, being shoved in a corner. Forced to grow up, court boys from other kingdoms across the seas as a young teenager. Participate in things I didn't want to, because they were Queenly. Crowned as Duchess of the Land, a weird in-between of a Lady and Queen. Over my father in ceremony, far below him in respect.

 A child. Little Allyfrun. Told her love was weak. Caring made you vulnerable.

So she took it to heart. Locked herself away. Glimpses of dreams, attitude, grace from then appeared sometimes. But never when it was wanted.

On the final bruise, the one right above my right eye, he looked at me. Directly in my eyes, gazing into my soul.

"Don't respond," he started with. His voice was hoarse, shaky. I nodded. "I'm terrified for you. You're a shell, Aelfrun. A ghost. I feel like you don't exist except to fight. That isn't a way to be, to live." He sighed, looking away. "Just.. promise me. Promise me this isn't it for you. That you're not training to die out there."

My face remained flat, impassive. I didn't answer, but I think my eyes gave it away. I wasn't training to die, but Cauldron, if it happened, I wouldn't object.

He stood, packed his things, and left.

I sat at the edge of the bed, locked away in my head, for hours. Staring at a point on the wall, blocking out every sense. Everything that screamed at me.

Sight.

Touch.

Taste.

Smell.

Hearing.

All day long, I felt everything. And I couldn't get away from it. 

I laid backwards, my head hitting the ruffled sheets. 

Sleep took me.

* * *

Dreamwalking. I was dreamwalking.

I wore a dress of starlight, wisps of clouds and moon cloaked me. My feet danced on shadows, walking on nothing solid. But I couldn't feel it. Couldn't hear or see anything.

Complete deprivation.

Coated in a world of darkness and lack.

Kneeling down, I sighed with relief. Tears flowed from my eyes, falling into the shadow, with no sound. No splattering. No sloshing.

Just void.

I cried and wailed, but no sound came out. Peaceful, blissful silence. 

My throat vibrated with the force, fists clenched with stressful effort, chest heaving.

And I could hear nothing.

Slowly, I laid down, allowing my back to entirely relax on the darkness. It formed to me, shaping along my curves and spine. Completely supported, but with no touch. No feeling.

I laughed. But I couldn't hear that either.

Complete bliss. For the first time in weeks.

I thanked the Cauldron, myself, whoever was out there for this. And I could've sworn the universe responded.