Traces of the past

35. Spring (Last chapter)

Reth POV

6 weeks later

The soul was clenching at the sight of the brownish wooden cross pinned at the head of a square tomb. Maybe a few tears would have escaped my tired eyes, but somehow the pain was too dry, too buried.

The scene of his death replayed in my mind. Corvinus. 

That son of a bitch deserved to be burned alive for his atrocities. How could one be so cruel? 

In front of my eyes, he died, his eyelids flickered once, not even considering surviving.

A mouth and half passed, the snow that froze the lands in February melted down and allowed the tips something green that will be grass in summer to piece through the moist layer of soil. The weather was calmer, some days windier than others. 

In the village, the plague subsided, but the people were still afraid and stood locked in their homes because rumor had it the capital was still in tears over hundreds of dead bodies.

I let my coat flutter in the wind and I bow down to the cross. I should have at least brought some flowers, but I came in a hurry and I a hurry I had to go back.

-So here you were! I turned the castle inside out looking for you!

-Forgive me, my lord, I shall return immediately. Please find an appropriate punishment for my disobedience.

His eyes sparkled in a truthful laugh. 

In front of me there was Dracula, Vlad, now, my beloved lord. He had now the body of a human and he was capable of doing human things; such as loving me.

 In the breeze of spring, his allure seemed one of those medieval handsome princes. The count was wearing a red shirt I stiched with my own hands and gifted him. His casual boots made his tights much more muscled; it made me wish he'd step on me.

Anyway, aside from my dirty thoughts things were going amazing. I could finally look in the mirror and say: This is me! This is all I have wanted. 

And then from behind Vlad came and hugged me powerful, almost suffocating me, which I didn't complain about.

Since he defeated Corvinus and was left in his human form, wounded by the sword of the same enemy, but hundreds of years ago, Dracula was about to die.

At least this was what I thought in my weak and paranoid mind. Next to him, I was calling his name desperately, naming countless sacrifices I would have made only for him to stay alive next to me. I needed him to be complete. I needed his love, his protection, his life was precious to me.

We froze, me on top of him, he on the floor in a pool of blood that was frosty too. The cabin door was the victim of the constant wind and snowfall. A new night was coming. I was ready to die there with him. At least we would be together.

In my imagination, a loyal Petrov came to save his lord, but he was dead too.

The miracle that saved us was Gilbert, the new guard. He came after his lord, Dracula with all of the guards and a few people from the village. The next day I woke up in the castle, next to Dracula who was still breathing.

Old ladies from the village were called to do their both herbal and magical tricks. They even suggested calling a priest to pray at his head, in case he passed away. I refused.

Do you think they worked? No. 

I took charge and cleaned his wound every day, sometimes twice, used all of my medicine-related knowledge to try and real him.