Obsidian's Reign ¹

∷ Chapter 14 ∷

THE FIRST THING that entered Clara's field of vision was the high canopy above her with its maroon curtains draping over the sides. Her eyes followed the fabric all the way down to where it ended in a knot tied to the wooden bedpost. The similar shade of maroon extended to the bed coverings, with the comforter pulled all the way up to her chin. Her fingers brushed against the smooth surface of the bedding as she attempted to push herself upright, groaning slightly at the groggy state she was in.

How long had she been asleep?

She pressed her fingers to the sides of her head and grimaced at the familiarity of an oncoming headache. With much difficulty, she pushed the heavy comforter aside and moved so that she was sitting with her legs hanging over the side of the bed. It was then she noticed she was in a room foreign to her.

The urge to explore her immediate surroundings itched at the back of her mind. But a nagging feeling stopped her, almost as though she was forgetting something important her state of befuddlement had completely wiped clean. Even so, she knew she could not stay comforted by the embrace of warmth around her, moving to place her feet firmly on the ground.

She staggered where she stood, holding onto the bedpost for support as her head throbbed with a sudden and piercing pain. She gasped, eyes squeezed shut as flashes of what was once forgotten whizzed through her mind.

She froze, a blanket of cold air shrouding her as she forced herself upright, palms clammy now that she was once more reminded of the predicament that had transpired prior to her current state. As though in a daze, she looked around her, attempting to pick out an indicator of time.

How long ago had it been since she discovered her grandmother had passed away? Was it a day ago? Two days? Or did it happen last night?

Her mind was too distorted and the timeline too messed up. The blooming headache seemed to increase the more she tried to make sense of the irrationalities happening around her. Amidst the growing pain, a thought occurred to her. The medical centre should have called her. She was the emergency contact. They would have called her the second they established that her grandmother had passed away.

With her mind on high alert and much focused than before, Clara took another look around the room, hoping to catch a glimpse of her possessions, particularly, her phone. Seeing nothing of the sort, she walked over to the door with intentions of finding the Elite.

She was just about to reach for the handle when it swung open of its own accord, causing her to stumble backwards in shock. A painful grip encircled itself around her wrist, keeping her from hitting the ground in a disgraceful manner.

"You're awake," Jae said, his voice monotonous and devoid of any emotion. "How are you feeling?"

Clara glanced at him without saying a word before attempting to tug her arm out of his grasp in a sudden wave of agitation. There was something unnatural about the way he was holding onto her, almost as if his grip was no longer to keep her steady but rather to keep her from venturing beyond the room.

"Let me go," she said when his hold did not seem to falter.

Instead of complying to her wishes, however, Jae merely stared at her, allowing himself to exhale in what appeared to be tired resignation.

"You need to rest," he said.

Clara frowned at his suggestion.

"I don't need . . . rest," she spat, the word sounding like an insult to her. "I need to go to the medical centre. Gran, she–"

Jae shushed her, pulling her into a forceful hug as he caressed the back of her head in a manner he assumed to be comforting despite her struggles saying otherwise.