Bright One | Empire of Blood and Swords Series

52. Smile

-52-
-Smile-

I was to be taken straight away. But Kells demanded time for us to pack up. Yes, even the other clans said it wasn't fair to have us taken away like that. But they still put on tracking cuffs on us, on top of Joanne's. Since I was already there, Rusałka and Saeran did their spells get rid of the inking on my nape. It hurt like hell. 

As the inkings were being pulled out by magic, they felt like threads sewed to me were slowly being plucked out. It was so unbearable I thought I might pass out. But I didn't, so I had to endure it all. 

They only kept Saoirse back, even though she demanded to go home once more. But Rhyland knocked her out with his Firewalking skills, which caused quite a fight as the others were leaving. Eunice lunged at him first, sending a kick to his face. 

I didn't know what happened in the end. Since I was already escorted out.

The ride back to Kells was dreadful. The Imperial City gave us their fastest horses, said to bring us home in less than an hour. I tried to breathe in the Wolfbloods' scents and their presence around me. These faces I will no longer see. . . But none of them spoke the entire ride back.

Thompson declared that he would be by Lucia's side when they go to Clyvia. And Samson huffed in frustration having to leave home for two years. 

My body was trembling as I walked through the familiar hallways that I may no longer see in the next who-knows-how-many-decades. I pushed through the door, noticing how heavy it felt. This is it. . . This is the last time I'm ever going to be here in this room.

I grabbed my favourite gowns, and a pillow, since I know they won't mind. And that was all. There was nothing else that I could take with me to Clyvia, except blurry memories and heavy regrets. I promised Saoirse that I would do my hardest during cultivation. 

The mirror on my right caught my reflection. I don't use that mirror really often when I have three more laying around. My silver-blonde hair looks darker, more ghostly. And my eyes were two tired, hollow crystals. Despite all that, I smiled. 

This was what my mother would've wanted, what Saoirse wished for. To smile despite all the shit that has happened. 

But my smile broke, and I collapsed with it. My legs couldn't hold me, and so I fell. Empty. I was so empty and full of this indescribable pain. 

"Cry," I muttered to myself. 

But nothing poured from my eyes. Even though I felt like shit inside. And in that moment I understood why some people didn't shed a tear in funerals, or even when their hearts were shattered to a million pieces. They aren't cruel or cold. Because this wasn't sadness. 

It's sorrow. 

The deepest layer of "sadness". And in that state, you are broken to a point where what, when and where don't matter anymore. You just sit there in silence, feeling the moment, absorbing your surroundings and understanding that you are not okay.

"I'm not okay. . ."

But admitting it is only the first step. Overcoming it comes next. And I don't feel like anything in this world right now could help coop with the emptiness inside. 

The door creaked open. I tensed and gave a little sniff. Seth's scent was all I got. He was as silent as a wolf while he made his way towards me. I felt a slight push as he sat beside me and a tear slipped from his eye. 

I angled my head at him, his face a broken mask. And a flash of Crom—my father's broken face flashed into mind. Then I remembered what Crom told me, of his past, of why he chose to hurt so many people.

"When I was with Crom, he. . . showed me something." Seth raised an eyebrow. For the next few minutes, I poured out what I had gathered from Crom. About the reason why started his 'evil reign'. But the hardest part to tell him was his parents. "He showed me a room filled with stoned figures. And two of them were your parents. . . "

Then I told him about Crom turning his parents to stone, but he couldn't turn them back because he couldn't, without Power Taking. I watched as the light slowly drifted from Seth's eyes. 

"I'll kill him. My family will kill him," he murmured. But as if he remembered something, his frown deepens and any trace of bloodlust vanished from his gaze. "I wanted to talk to you about something." His voice broke.

"What is it?" I whispered.

"Our so-called 'relationship' isn't working. Don't get me wrong, I love you and I know you love me. But when there is no trust, then there is no love." I waited, closing my eyes. "You didn't trust me enough to tell me you had Samson's name. And I trusted you too much to see what you were actually up to." 

He released a long sigh, running his hand down his face. Then he continued. "There's no point to us when we are both in the hurt. But I want to stay with you. I believe you could actually change me for the better. Though I couldn't see it myself, because if I did take your advices, I wouldn't end up feeling like crap."

I arched an eyebrow. "And why are you feeling like crap?"

His lips bent into a horrifying frown. And his eyes turned puffy as he leaned his forehead on the leg of my dresser. "Because I never got the chance to apologise to Saoirse." He slammed his head onto the dresser, and I lunged for him, pulling him as far away from anything hard as possible. 

"Seth, calm down. Do you think Saoirse would be happy to see you like this?" I whispered. 

His body was trembling uncontrollably. I held him in my arms, rocking his head back and forth while humming the lullaby he used to sing to me. And then I felt it, his tears. Wet, hot and filled with regret. 

"Do you know what I once said to her? I said I wished I never had her as a sister, and that she was never part of my life. She cried that day. And I hate that feeling of guilt whenever I think of it. The worst part is: I never apologised for that either." He sobbed, fingers digging into my shoulders. "I'm the black sheep of my family." 

We sat there, utterly lost for any words. He's trying to get over the pain he's caused his sister, and I'm trying to heal from the wounds I've caused. We are both healing, both in pain. 

At least we are healing. 

"I told my family that I'd be joining you, along with mhamó and Samson to Clyvia for cultivation. It's one of the best ways to regenerate and calm the mind," he told me, playing with the hem of my kimono. 

I gave a faint smile. "Yeah. That'd be great."

Someone knocked on the door. Loud and impatient. We turned to look at Samson, who bit his lips as he avoided eye contact. 

"We have to leave, brother. The carriage is here," but as he turned away, wanting to leave, he hesitated and faced us, his cheeks turning red. "I'm sorry for what I said about you. . . back then." 

My mind was too tired to think of anything sweet to reply with. But as I opened my mouth he took off.

"He can be shy when admitting his faults," Seth muttered. Giving one last sigh, he stood up and reached out a hand. 

At that one moment, his face was pain-free. No guilt, no broken soul, definitely no worries. Even though he didn't smile, he sure looked ready to start over. I grabbed his hand, tugging him with a bit of my strength, as if to say hey, I want to start over too! 

A silhouette moved in the corner of my room. But she didn't approach, nor did she leave. She just stood there in the shadows, watching silently. 

And then I gave Seth a smile. A smile that showed no worries nor pain nor sorrow. A smile I wished I will forever be greeted with. A smile I remembered deeply in my mind, of my mother. 

A smile he might consider as a bright one.