Final Truth

Chapter 70: The End of a Storm

Julia's point of view:

Henley lies on the ground, blood pooling from her chest as she heaves in breaths marked by hardship and defeat.

Her power, however, still forces me to keep the knife buried inside of her, refusing to let me go.

"Henley..." I rasp, so confused that my head feels as though it may very well burst. "Why?"

It's the only question I can think of, for in all fairness, why would she do this? The cowardly woman who would fight to save her own skin while gladly forsaking all others, who would murder hundreds if it meant securing herself, has just driven a knife in her own chest.

She regards me with fading numbness, taking as deep a breath as she can before croaking out a response.

"I failed. What more...what more c-can I live for?"

But I shake my head at that, willing my own power over hers in an attempt to gain control of my own limbs back, so that I might take the knife out of her chest. However, it is to no such luck, her power strong even in her dying moments.

"Please, let me go," I beg of her. "Let me go so I can get this knife out and heal you. It doesn't have to end this way."

"Of course it does," she responds before a coughing fit seizes her, blood bubbling up from her throat and leaking like froth out of the corners of her mouth. I grimace at the sight, still not wishing this fate for her despite all she's done to me.

But in that moment of her preoccupation, her power wavers for a split second, just enough for me to regain control over my arms.

I pull the knife out and ready myself to heal her, blue light springing outward almost eagerly from my hands after going so long without use in the real world.

Henley fervently shakes her head in protest, however, a sort of paralyzing fear overtaking her at the prospect of me saving her life.

"No," she begs of me, her tone of voice making me hesitate. "I don't want to be healed. I won't...I won't go back to prison. Let me die. Please, let m-me die. You...you owe me that."

A part of me bristles in anger, for this is the coward's way out. Giving up is always easier in the face of atoning for one's crimes, but still, I can't find it within me to go against this request.

My hatred for her has begun to melt away, replaced by a sort of pity. Yes, in this moment, I feel sorry for the woman shrouded in horrors.  And if this is how she wants to go, if this is how she truly wants to escape, then I won't refuse her.

I won't take away her right to die.

Relief seems to overtake her countenance at the sight of me lowering my hands, and she slumps further into the floor in response. Her face has gone ashen, breaths fewer and farther in between, and her blood covers a great portion of the surrounding floor.

"I pray that you find mercy in your next life," I tell her.

"I...don't want...your...prayers," she seethes, eyes growing dimmer by the second.

"Maybe not, but I'll still give them. I think we both know you never intended for this to go as far as it did," I respond.

"No, I didn't," she admits, her chest rising slower and her words punctuated with labored pauses. "But...make no...no mistakes. I'm...not sorry."

A part of me wishes that her death would bring her a sudden insight into the extent of her villainy, that perhaps she would become repentant in her final moments like so many others when their life leeches from them. However, I know that won't be the case now; her power has consumed her, and for that, she'll never apologize for what she's done to increase her ambitions.

"I suppose I'm not surprised," I tell Henley, knowing that her time is near. I sense seconds left, maybe a minute, so I sit back and watch her with pity and sympathy churning inside of me. How alone this woman is, no one to love and nothing to care about. So desperate to be known that she would subjugate others, so desperate to prove herself that she would cause pain. How wayward her intentions have become over her lifetime, how twisted her perception of what people are truly capable of.

I reach a hand out to her forehead, but not to heal her as she previously begged I refrain from. No, I instead just ease her pain with the power of healing so that she may go without agony, go without feeling the emptiness licking away at her insides like fire.

Henley heaves one last sigh of relief, but whether it's from my powers or death finally coming to collect her soul, I know not. She doesn't breathe anymore, and her golden eyes have glazed over to stare at nothing.

I take a deep breath, rising to my feet and away from her body as a feeling I can't pinpoint washes over me. Am I sad? Happy? Relieved?

I suppose I'll figure it out eventually. For now, the storm is over.

Movement brings me out of my repose, so I turn toward the sound to see my friends beginning to wake up from the effects of my power.

Along with some of the guards.

Closing my eyes, I reach out with the power of elements and call forth the metal from every weapon in the room to submit to my will, pulling every gun and knife away from the guards. I then gather them all in one large pile before squeezing both of my hands into fists, effectively causing the weapons to shatter into tiny shards no bigger than pebbles.

No one else is going to get hurt today.

Cassia is the first one to fully wake, her blue eyes surveying the room blearily before she finds me standing a few feet away. A shocked gasp leaves her lips, but whether it's from happiness at seeing me again or surprise at my appearance, I know not.

But I offer up a weak smile all the same, walking over to her and helping her off the ground. She looks at me as if I were a creature she's never seen, one that must be dealt with carefully lest I run away like a frightened animal.

"Cassia-" I begin, wanting her to talk to me, but she cuts me off by engulfing me into a backbreaking hug.

Pain laces up my spine at the movement but I ignore it, wrapping my arms around her as well and choking back a sob.

When was the last time I hugged anyone?

"You're okay," she mutters before pulling away to look at me once again. "Well, maybe not okay, but alive."

I let out a weak laugh at that before watching the others begin to open their eyes, Adam getting up next with Susan soon following suit.

Adam strides up to embrace me next but Susan beats him to it, running up and knocking me back a few steps with the fierceness of her hug.

"I missed you too, little one," I tell her, enfolding her in my arms while Adam comes around and hugs me from behind.

The others join in as well, Jacqueline and Genevieve and that boy I still don't have a name for, forming a tight circle around me and nearly overwhelming me in affection.

I suppose the feeling of friendship increases tenfold in the lengthy absence of those that give it.

I let out a sigh of relief and feel tears leak from the corners of my eyes, burrowing myself into their arms and relishing the comfort of it all.

No one speaks, and for that, I am grateful.

Words aren't needed for something like this.