Naryssa's Choice (The Fate and Destiny Chronicles Vol. 3)

The House in the Meadow

 When I came to it once more, I awoke inside of a small room lying in a bed feeling sore from my injuries, I had noticed quickly bandaging had been wrapped around my upper torso. I also had on a bright yellow shirt that fit me surprisingly well for not being mine. It was in that moment I had felt the memories come creeping in, slowly at first then rushing in all at once. I felt an overwhelming sense of loss and panic. I fought to contain myself as tears began to fill my eyes and my chest began to hurt from my suddenly fast and heavy breathing, I could feel my heart racing as the panic took me over. I managed to sit myself up with a wince and groan despite my shaking as I tried to calm myself and after a while it began to fade away. Allowing me to take in my surroundings.

The room was small and it seemed as if I were in a small house of some sort, it was only when I saw the beautiful lilac-colored quilt with little blue flowers all over it that I knew where I was and I was confused as fuck about how I got here. I tried to get up far too quickly so when I tried to get out of the bed, I was hit by a wave of dizziness and fell to the ground with a thud. After a moment I tried again and after an exhausting effort I managed to get to my feet and stumble to the doorway. I leaned on the doorway for support as I peeked out into the tiny living area only to be hit by a wave of Deja vu, yes, I knew exactly where I was as a memory that was not my own flashed through my mind. Waking up within the bed with the quilt, the soft sound of a running shower, the bright afternoon light spilling through the window, and tip toeing across the new wooden floors. I was certain that I was within the small home that Seth and Annabelle once shared, it clearly was no longer new but it was still in good condition and looked the same, just more aged.

Only I didn't have long to think about anything as Caspian came through the door with an arm full of fire wood for the fireplace, he noticed me in the doorway after he closed the front door. More memories flashed through my mind, memories of my own. Caspian calling to me, his fearful face, the terror I felt, the pain... Only when he spoke to me did the memories fade into the background. "You're finally awake" he said with a crooked smile before walking over to the fireplace to start a fire with the wood he came in with. "How long have I been out?" I asked him in confusion as I slowly started to make my way over to the small couch to sit down. "A few days or so..." He said as the fire finally caught and he got up moving a bit slowly with a grunt. That was when I had noticed the bruises across his face and cuts covering his arms. He'd bandaged himself up but I could tell he'd been beaten badly and despite the relief he had that I was okay I could tell he too was haunted by what happened.

I felt a brief wave of rage wash through me as I thought about getting vengeance on the bastards who had attacked us but it didn't last for very long before it was replaced by an almost empty feeling. "I'm fine" He told me as he came over to help me reach the couch clearly noticing my struggle to walk to it, "You're the one who got the worst of it..." He said sounding guilty. I let him help me over to the couch and took a seat with a feeling of relief. Who knew dying and coming back to life was so exhausting, right? "Why are we both alive?" I asked him as he went back to the fire place to poke at the logs with a fire poker. "They let me live when they checked to make sure your heart stopped..." He told me, "They beat and cut the hell out of me before knocking me unconscious and taking off" Chandler told me. "He'd let me live this time to deliver a message to your father..." He confessed before trailing off into silence. "What message?" I asked him and when he didn't answer I asked again, "What did he want you to tell him?" I demanded more authoritatively.

After a moment he finally answered me, "He wanted me to tell him that he would soon be reunited with his daughters in death...he wanted him to the rebels were coming for him..." He said in disgust. That was when it really sank in. Chandler had tormented and killed me simply to make a fucking political statement. He'd tortured a sixteen-year-old girl to make a sick fucking point. However, my concern for Caspian outweighed my outrage and disgust at Chandler. "It wasn't your fault..." I told him. I wanted more than anything to ease his pain. Ease his guilt. "No one could have foreseen that..." I told him in an attempt to comfort him but his response surprised me. "Then how did you?" He asked me as he stood up and turned to face me as he leaned against a desk. "It wasn't your fault..." I said again in a refusal to answer his question as I looked away but he scoffed and replied harshly to my comment.