The frozen heart

Chapter 35: Against the Dying Light

It was the dead of night, and silence had settled heavily over the abandoned castle. Anne sat alone by the crackling fire, the light casting flickering shadows along the cold stone walls. She'd grown used to waiting for Kaiden's return, even at odd hours. His absences were long and mysterious, his return unpredictable. But tonight felt different—she hadn't been able to shake the gnawing worry in her chest. Her eyes kept drifting to the empty doorway, as if she could will him to walk through it.

Then came a sound—a dull, heavy thud from the entrance hall.

Anne's heart stilled, a cold prickle running down her spine. She was on her feet in an instant, rushing toward the sound. The firelight faded behind her as she moved down the dark corridor, her steps quick and unsteady. The castle was quiet again, so quiet she could hear her own heartbeat pounding in her ears.

As she rounded the corner, her breath caught in her throat. There, slumped against the wall, was Kaiden.

"Kaiden!" she cried, rushing forward.

He was sprawled on the floor, one arm limp at his side, his head tipped back against the stone wall. His silver mask obscured his face, but his body was unmistakable, even battered and bruised as it was. A dark stain of blood had spread across his shirt, and she could see the glint of ice crusted around the wound, jagged and harsh against his skin.

"Kaiden..." Her voice was shaking as she knelt beside him, reaching out with trembling hands. He was so still—unnervingly still.

She placed her hands on his shoulders, giving him a gentle shake. "Kaiden, please, wake up." Her voice cracked, but there was no response. His head slumped forward slightly, the edge of his mask catching on her hand. She wanted to pull it off, to see his face, but a new sight stole her breath away: the deep gash in his abdomen, jagged and raw, half-covered in frozen blood and ice.

"Oh no..." Anne whispered, horror creeping into her voice. She pressed her hand near the wound, feeling the unnatural chill emanating from it. The ice wasn't enough to stop the bleeding; it only slowed it, the blood seeping out in thin rivulets that traced down his side and pooled on the floor. Her mind raced, her breaths coming faster as panic seized her.

Her hands hovered over the wound, helplessly. What do I do? She wasn't a healer. She didn't know how to close a wound like this. The blood was staining her fingers now, sticky and warm, and the sight made her stomach twist with dread.

Tears pricked at the corners of her eyes, blurring her vision as she looked down at him. She had never seen him so vulnerable, so helpless, and it struck her heart like a dagger. This was the same Kaiden who carried himself with such quiet strength, the man who never faltered. And yet, here he was, bleeding and broken, slipping away from her by the second.

"Please, Kaiden," she whispered, her voice laced with desperation. "Please wake up. I... I don't know how to help you."

She fumbled around him, searching his belt, his cloak, his pockets for anything—a potion, herbs, anything that could help. But his belongings were sparse, empty of anything remotely healing. She pressed her hands against his wound, trying to staunch the bleeding, but it only seemed to make the ice melt faster, blood seeping through her fingers and soaking into her sleeves.

A shuddering breath escaped her, and she looked at his face again, at the unmoving mask, her reflection barely visible in its cold, unfeeling surface. She felt lost, powerless, the weight of her fear crashing over her in waves. Her mind raced through every option, but nothing made sense. She was alone in this forgotten castle, with nothing but her own two hands and an unconscious man fading before her eyes.