Spirit of the Ashes: A Nyssara story

chapter 7

Chapter 7

Sara's POV

I watch Nyssa. She sits in an antique red and gold chair that matches the same color scheme of her room. Her jet black hair is swept to one side of her face as she brushes it. I smile when she comes across a knot; attacking it with the brush until it becomes smooth.

She catches me watching her. "What are you doing?" She asks.

"Just watching you." I respond. A couple weeks ago I would never have been comfortable enough to have a relaxed conversation with her. But as the days dragged by, I have become more comfortable around her, and vice versa.

She nods and goes back to brushing her hair. I smile and continue to watch her. When I first saw her, her eyes seemed to be black, encasing all light. But them more time I spent around her, her eyes seemed to change, switching from obsidian to Axinite.

Once she finishes, she stands up to put the brush away, her hair falls gracefully over her back like a raven waterfall.

She lays it on her desk and walked over to me and renews my bandages. "This may be the last time you need the bandage. It is almost healed."

I nod, "What then?"

She looks confused, "What do you mean?"

"What happens after I'm healed? Do I have to stay here?"

She seems hurt, "You are not my prisoner Sara. Once you are healed, you may go wherever you wish."

I think for a moment, "What if I want to stay here?"

"Then you could stay here."

"Would I ever see you again if I left?" I smile at her.

She shakes her head, "No, most likely, if you leave here, we shan't meet again."

I grimace, I think of my family; mom, dad and Laurel. What would they think of me now? I've tortured and kill people for Ivo. What would they think of their little murderer? I shake my head to clear it and make up my mind.

I turn to Nyssa, "Would it be okay if I stayed here?"

"Of course," She nods and smiles happily. I smile back, inside I may be a coward, but I can't face my family and all of their judgment.

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Nyssa's POV

I walk over to Sara to renew her bandages, the wound looks nearly healed, "This may be the last time you need the bandage. It is almost healed."

She nods, "What then?"

I do not catch her meaning, "What do you mean?" I ask.

"What happens after I'm healed? Do I have to stay here?" She questions.

I feel a sense of betrayal, "You are not my prisoner Sara. Once you are healed, you may go wherever you wish."

She stays silent for a moment, "What if I want to stay here?"

"Then you could stay here." The words slip out easily, I feel surprised, my attachment of Sara has grown immensely.

"Would I ever see you again if I left?" she smiles at me.

I shake my head, "No, most likely, if you leave here, we shan't meet again." As the words leave, I feel a sense of disappointment. I do not want her to leave.

She stays silent for a couple minutes; mulling it over I presume.

Eventually she turns to look at me, "Would it be okay if I stayed here?"

I try to mask most of my excitement and happiness but a small smile slips out. "Of course."