Heart [ON HOLD]

Chapter 19: Heal

WARNING: There may be potentially triggering content ahead. Please be aware of what state of mind you are in and be careful.

There is a place I long to be

Like some distant memory haunting me

A void of nothing, yet, everything

Where only kindness matters

In the joy of infinity.

Pamela Leigh Richards

Alastor.

Cora sat up and the world started swaying. Blood pounded against her skull and she winced. She swung her head and found the ruins had reappeared around her and her legs were tangled in blankets.

No. No, we were running, and the woods were, and then...

And then...

A flash of color caught her eye and Cora looked down. A chipped mug lay on the stones beside the bed, half full of rainwater and brimming with bluebells. She plucked a stem from the bunch and fingered the nodding heads of the blooms.

"So it wasn't just a dream," she murmured. Her head throbbed again, a reminder of everything that had happened, and she grunted. "Some dream."

Cora kicked off the covers and found she was still in the same dress as before, but her cloak was draped across end of the cot. Tugging it on, she made her way outside to the moon pulsing like a white blooded heart overhead. The dwarves were nowhere to be seen and the circle of stones stood vacant. The only sign of life was the pipe music floating on the breeze.

The Wolf was up in his tower again.

Cora pulled her cloak tighter around her and made her way up the spiral steps, reemerging into the moonlight at their peak. Alastor sat with his legs hanging over the side of the crumbling platform, playing his melody to the midnight sun. For a moment, Cora only stood and watched in silence. Then the music broke off.

"You were out an entire day." His voice was barely above a whisper. "They didn't know if you'd wake up."

"I'm sorry."

He folded his hands in his lap. There was another long silence.

"You passed out when we were escaping. I had to carry you back."

Cora fiddled with the hem of her cloak. Alastor clenched his pipe between his fingers.

"Thank you," Cora said. "For the bluebells, I mean. My, ah, my father used to call me that."

"I know."

He took a deep breath.

"You won't have to worry about me anymore, Cora."

She looked up.

"What?"

"I'll be gone by morning, somewhere the Queen can't follow. Maybe then you won't hate me so much. For what I've done, I've come to realize there is no forgiveness, no matter how much I wish there were."

The moon shifted an inch in the sky, making the blade next to him flash. Cora squinted. There was something dark on the blade, something... Her eyes widened and in three strides she had crossed the platform, snatched up the knife and hurled it off the tower. She dropped to his side.

"Alastor," she said. "Alastor, look at me."

His jaw clenched, and slowly, slowly, he faced her. His mask had finally vanished. His eyes were red and dark circles haunted them. There were tear tracts glistening on his skin and his thin lips were swollen. Cora turned his arms over, but they were untouched. It was only then that she caught the trickle of blood leaking from his shoulder.