The Forgotten Light

55. Fairlight

She felt guilty, so excruciatingly guilty that she stopped functioning normally. She no longer winced every time her battered body was pierced by pain. She felt she deserved it.

Although time seemed to stop inside her, outside, life went on. The sun moved across the sky in its own track until it was finally low. Then the voice of a white-haired guard snapped her out of the emptiness in which she had been immersed.

She paused her work and followed him, climbing the steps, passing through the arcades and reaching the semi-darkened courtyard, where nothing good was surely waiting for her. She broke out of numbness and became alert.

Damon, pale as a corpse, stopped in the middle of the square, holding her arm. Five soldiers stood at attention near the tower, and muffled voices came from behind the palace door. Thandor, with his back to them, stood against the wall, behind which was a precipice, and stared at the city lights slowly lighting up.

This is your one last chance to use your power to heal Damon's wounds.

Invicta, who had brought her, unfastened the bracelet from her arm in a quick motion.

"You could have me create nearly everything, and yet you're asking for the one thing I really can't do," Fairlight said in a small voice.

"You still haven't explained how your wounds healed so fast, so I assume that, having such power, you did it yourself." He turned to her with an angry expression on his face. "Since you've already done it at least once, repeating it can't be that difficult, right?"

She knew he wouldn't do anything, but she had to at least try to keep up appearances.

"Can I take a look at this wound?"

Thandor pointed his hand to the guard in the middle, as if he was waiting for nothing else. She approached him cautiously. The cut on his face wasn't serious, but the one under the Being's armpit didn't look interesting. She moved away in disgust, shaking her head.

"He should go to a doctor, I can't help him."

"Get me the doctor here," ordered Thandor.

One of the guards opened the door, and another pushed the unaware Kendra out from behind it. A green shawl fell over her shoulders, and she was wearing a half-removed smock. She looked around wildly, trying to understand what was happening.

"I can only count on your help to heal my soldier, Kendra, since the only person who would be able to heal him with just a thought has no intention of doing so," the King announced wryly.

Kendra froze, looking at Fairlight with her mouth open.

"That's right. Our Ivy doesn't need thread nor bandages to treat her wounds. She could save the injured so much pain, just as she saved it for herself. It would probably take less than a minute," he clicked his tongue in dissatisfaction.

The doctor took off the apron tied at her waist and walked over to Damon, inspecting his wound, then immediately made a tourniquet out of her apron.

"Ivy, if this is true, you should at least try," she said, her voice trembling.

Noticing the fear in her friend's eyes, she stood beside her. "It won't work," she whispered.

"At least try. I don't want you to get hurt by resisting."

She looked into her eyes and realized that Kendra was trying to help her. After all, she had already confessed to her recently that she was afraid for her and worried whether she would be able to save her if needed again.

She nodded and closed her eyes, trying to imagine...

What was she actually supposed to imagine? Blood? Tissues? Skin? What else was needed to patch up the wound?

If only she had sat with Kailee and Kailah more, maybe she would know now.

She had to do something, so she focused on the blood. Perhaps when the Being got more of it, it would feel better. The only question was, to what extent would the blood she created actually be blood?

She got a headache from those hectic thoughts.

It was all one big misunderstanding. Keiran should never have healed her. If only Thandor had known from Darsen about the snow panther's newfound abilities, the impossible wouldn't be required of her now.

But nothing in life was ever simple.

She glanced at Invicta's wound, which still looked the same. "I'm not able to create blood and cells. I have no idea what their structure really looks like, and after all, you can't replace living tissue with something made up that, what's more, is about to disappear. That could do even more damage."

Thandor looked at her, not even blinking. She could feel his rage and impending explosion. She began to wonder, in what condition would she return to her cold, dark cell that day?

"I won't kill the resistance off from you so easily, now will I?" His voice was quiet, dripping with venom.

Fairlight contained the shiver running down her spine. "I can't. I swear I can't heal any wounds. Neither Invicta's, nor humans', nor my own."

The Invicta King lost his patience for good, and she knew it right away. She understood the sign he had given to the Being at the entrance to the courtyard, and immediately after that she noticed a shiny black pistol in his hands. A weapon the Beings hardly ever used. At least that's what she had heard.

She knew what was coming next.

She stood in front of Kendra one second before the end.