Only Love Can Kill Me... (A One Direction FanFiction)

Chapter 39 - Checkmate

            There were two outliers in black, kneeling with people guarding and keeping them in place from behind, but with no physical force. They were stoned in place, unmoving, eyes wild with panic, yet perfectly still. One with blood splattered brown hair and red trails down his face; the other with a bloodied torso, crying silently for help.

                Hostages. Prisoners. Dead men.

                The two people – Louis and Niall.

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Chapter 39 – Checkmate

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"We are troubled on every side, yet not distressed; we are perplexed, but not in despair; persecuted, but not forsaken; cast down, but not destroyed." - 2 Corinthians 4:8-9

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                Isla froze. I couldn’t see her face, but I felt her disappointment; an inward scream, a desperate cry. From behind her I could see her whole body tense, alert and scared. The spear blade pressed harder on my neck and dug deeper every time I swallowed. Knowing your death rested in someone’s hands was a feeling unlike any other; frightening, rebelling yet surrendering and…at peace.

                A man headed directly for Isla. In one short second I was fooled into thinking he was Louis, but he wasn’t. He wasn’t a dragon though – he had more facial hair, more height, more hostility, and he lacked the perfection that dragons possessed. He was flawed; too hairy and scarred and dirty. There was a type of darkness in his eyes, a type you only see in people who were reckless and angry at the world.

Isla looked away as he stopped in front of her. His hand rose and touched her face – not a tender touch, but a rough, hard, harming one. I tensed, the blade drew blood; Isla shook her head from his touch. His hand pulled back like a tsunami retreating from a damaged shore and he spoke, intimidating.

“Same scared little girl.” The man walked away in contempt, victorious, as if he successfully poisoned a dying vermin. I glared at him but he overlooked me, like I was beneath him. I balled my fists harder, breathed deeper, and the spear pushed more intently into my skin. I felt blood.

The way he acted assured me it wasn’t Louis. Louis would never do that, to anyone.

Isla stood alone and diminutive, her against the world. She braced herself to face the giants and looked up at her mother, who now stood with the crowd opposite us, the callous man by her side.

“Mom?” I heard Isla say, her voice hiding a flood of emotions. Her one word demanded an explanation, any explanation, or perhaps just confirmation, that everyone who had mattered to her was now long gone. Betrayal.

Then I heard her voice in her head, beckoning for someone, anyone to listen.

So everything was a lie. She thought. You being Banished was a lie. You being good was a lie. You loving me was a lie. Everything, all we did together, was just a big lie.

And so Dad wasn’t the evil one.

Her fists shook ever so slightly.

You are.

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The most recent vision from the Lady was this: Isla’s mother and Head were in a room. Her mother was shouting, demanding Head for all the Crystals. Head said they only had the Salkhatar, but she said it wasn’t enough. Her sole reason was power. Head’s leniency towards her law breaking, her crimes, all this time wasn’t enough, was never enough for her. Because we knew now that she wanted to be Banished. Because the Valiants could give her what she wanted, and to do that she had to be with them. But Head loved her too much to do it, so all he did was send her away, which was also for her advantage if she wished to seek refuge in any of the realms.