Shadow Rider (Vampire Academy Fanfic)

Chapter 56 - Rose

Dimitri and I had wanted to run after Natia and her boys, but Sergei had roared at us to remain at our posts, lest there was another Strigoi wave coming. Fortunately, there was none. So as soon as we got our leave, we sprinted in the direction they had disappeared, reaching the parking lot on the east side of the Court grounds.

The battle had lasted exceptionally long, and if the sun had set at about seven or eight p.m., it must now be a couple hours past midnight. Yet there was no darkness to be found here. The lampposts illuminated the parking lot with a harsh glare, and in the middle of it a bloodbath appeared to have happened.

It took some time for my vision to adjust to the sudden light, and I found I had to rub my eyes before I could really make out the details of the scene.

Dimitri and I sprang forward, worried about that much display of bright blood, and our alarm wasn't without cause.

Three corpses littered the asphalt: the butchered carcass (or what remained of it) of the albino Strigoi, and the crumpled form of Andrey, whose body lay at an unnatural angle, his eyes vacant and unseeing. Amongst that hollow, empty feeling that always surrounds death, I felt the smallest tinge of relief at seeing these two great culprits finally defeated, but indeed the sacrifice had been great.

Fear knotted in my chest, tightening my throat, as my eyes continued to investigate the scene. A part of me just wanted to shut my eyes to the world and ignore everything for a while. No part of me wanted to register what I knew would come next. But I did it anyway.

Thanatia lay several feet away from the other bodies, her body just as unmoving and pale. A pool of blood spread out beneath her body, and at closer inspection we could see a gunshot wound in her chest. Her head lay in Casimir's lap, who sat motionless and preternaturally still, a stillness of the soul. He was staring straight ahead, eyes and features devoid of all feeling, and yet his eyes were streaming with tears. Only his hand moved - caressing Natia's hair in a steady, repetitive motion.

For a second I couldn't breathe. Seeing my friend like this...my new, brave, kind-hearted friend - I didn't know how to react. It all seemed so unreal.

Dimitri and I shared a look, both of us taken back to a similar scenario years ago - only it had involved me personally. So I understood perfectly what Casimir now felt, and presumably Dimitri did too. I gently, very carefully, laid my hand on Casimir's shoulder, but naturally he didn't even notice it. Both of us sat down beside him, offering this silent support, trying not to agitate him into a defensive.

But all the fight had seeped out of Casimir. He appeared as dead as his bond-mate, and I couldn't blame him appearing thus; I knew exactly the magnitude of tragedy and misery involved with the loss of one of the members in a spirit bond.

I don't know how long we remained like that, silently grieving all that we had lost tonight. Eventually my body grew stiff and cold as winter ice, and I moved closer to Dimitri, a movement that seemed to wake him out of his mournful reverie. With a deep sigh, Dimitri reached into his pocket to retrieve his phone.

'Glazkov - can you spare a few men? We have a few...bodies here, that need collecting.'

At this Casimir's head snapped up with alarm, and he stared at Dimitri as if he hadn't noticed either him or me before now. 'What do you mean,' he whispered, his voice so hollow and thin as to be insubstantial.

I swallowed painfully. I injected my voice with as much sympathy and delicacy I could muster, and faced Casimir again.

'Casimir...I'm so sorry,' I murmured, my throat tight with emotion. 'She's gone. We have to take her back and-'

'NO!' exploded Casimir, and I could tell right away that the climax of his sorrow and insanity had finally arrived. He rose to his feet and attacked us, flailing and screaming like a maniac, his eyes bloodshot from all the crying. His denial was so absolute that there was no point fighting it. Dimitri and I tried to restrain him as best as we could, but didn't manage it until back-up arrived - the men that Sergei had sent to collect the bodies. But Casimir's screaming was so echoey loud that it attracted all sorts of attention. Finally, even Lissa arrived on the scene. She took one look at the maddened Casimir and her jaw set with resolution. Lissa put him under a powerful compulsion, a kind of magically induced coma. Casimir resisted, but he had wielded far too much magic tonight to be able to muster up any worthy defence. He fell under Lissa's spell, and collapsed at our feet.

A fourth stretcher was hastily produced, and the four bodies were carried away to the hospital wing, with most of Natia's and Casimir's friends tagging along. Just outside the hospital, all of us could comprehend the exact magnitude of loss we had suffered in the battle of the Moroi Court. Bodies upon bodies were piled in rows on the harsh asphalt. There hadn't even been any time to cover their faces. Roger and Maxim were among them, along several other friends from the advanced guardian practice. So much death I had never witnessed before.

The Strigoi bodies were piled in a pyramid outside the broken Court wards. Several fire users, Christian among them, stood there, initiating a controlled bonfire. The scent of all the dead was indescribable - I felt bile rise in my throat, and had to swallow convulsively to keep from throwing up.

I couldn't remain inactive any longer; Dimitri and I joined the others in the clean-up. We worked until the faint light of coming morning bathed the world in its bleak glow. Finally we got around to covering the bodies, but I paused when I reached the bodies of those I had known.

Ash and Natia lay peacefully beside each other, and something about the sight of them broke me. Dimitri tried to lead me away from them, but I expressed my desire to be alone for a moment. And so I sat there by their bodies, staring, unable to proceed from here. How could we go on, after such a terrible tragedy?

My eyes fell upon Ash first, my vision blurry from unshed tears. He looked as if he were sleeping, a peaceful expression dominating his features. It was peculiar how someone could look so youthful and old at once. No matter how unfair his murder had been, no matter the cruel manner in which death had ripped him from his ever-cheerful, carefree life, it appeared he had died on his on terms and conditions. He had died doing what he loved, for the people he loved. For the woman he had loved. And there was peace in that.

I studied Natia's body next, unable to hold on to any sort of feeling of peace when looking upon her. The last of her colour had left her body - her body seemed luminously pale. Her long, black lashes rested on the tops of her cheeks, her lips just slightly parted, as if in silent inquiry. But unlike the other bodies, her lips hadn't paled. Instead they were red as blood, standing out starkly against her white pallor. A weird feeling overcame me, and I squinted my eyes at my fallen friend. I tried to dismiss the nagging feeling, but something about her appearance kept me enthralled. She wasn't moving at all, she was deathly still...and yet.

I realised with a start that the bullet hadn't penetrated her left breast; instead, it had hit her chest pretty centrally, if not slightly to the right, even. Then I remembered. I remembered the similar wound I had suffered years ago upon saving Lissa; how I too had been on the brink of death.

There was a chance. A chance, no matter how small and impossible, that Natia could find her way back to life again, just like I had.

'Nurse!' I yelled frantically, unable to tear my eyes away from Natia, lest she slipped away. 'Nurse!' I called again, pointing at Natia's body. The nurse approached me with a bewildered expression, as if she thought I'd gone crazy. She tilted her head in hesitant inquiry. 'I want this body to be brought into the hospital wing where Casimir resides, and placed next to him. Can you help me carry her?'

The nurse stared at me. 'But...guardian Hathaway - she's dead!'

The smile I offered her was bittersweet. 'She might not be.'