The Sorrow of Shadows (Crimson & Shadows #1)

Chapter 34

CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR

AURELIUS

“ W hat… the fuck… was that,” Breyla pants as her eyes frantically search the area for our attackers. They were there one second, then gone the next. I had never seen anyone with a Gift like that, let alone four of them together. Even the body of their fallen soldier is gone.

My eyes roam up and down her form, assessing her for any injuries. When I find none, I turn my attention to the feisty one. Nameah surprised the both of us with how well she held her own in that fight. The trick with the light bending was clever.

“Are you okay?” I ask, gently wrapping my hand around her bicep and pulling it close for inspection. “This doesn’t look too deep; I think you’ll be fine after we get you to a healer.”

“I’ll be fine, it just burns like a bitch.” She hisses as I run my hands over the edge of the wound. “So, did I prove myself enough to you, General?” She turns her attention back to Breyla.

“Yeah, little mouse, I’d say so. You’re still alive, and you managed to take one down, which is more than the rest of us can say. Nice trick with the light,” Breyla says with a wink, her breathing still heavy as the adrenaline wears off.

“You like that? I thought it was pretty great.” She grins ear to ear.

Breyla chuckles and pats her on the shoulder. “I’ll make a soldier out of you; I just have to get some muscle on these bones first.”

“That would be easier with more food,” she sighs. “Unfortunately, it’s not something my family has a lot of. Not since Pa died, at least.”

Breyla’s smile drops into an understanding frown. “I’m sorry you lost your father. Has your family petitioned the crown for help? We have resources in place for situations like this.”

“We have,” she says solemnly.

“And that was not enough?”

“Unfortunately, being given nothing doesn’t go far.” Her voice is hardly above a whisper.

“You were turned away? By whom?” Breyla’s voice rises in frustration.

“I was not with my mother when she went, but I believe it was King Raynor.”

“When was this?”

“Pa died two years ago, and Ma visited court to request assistance the spring before last. We’ve survived, but it hasn’t been easy.” Nameah’s voice is sullen, her eyes downcast.

While they’ve been talking, I’ve been evaluating. Before Breyla can respond, I interrupt, “I’m sorry, but we have a problem.”

Emerald and bright blue eyes stare back at me, and I fear what I have to say. “The blade Nameah was cut with was laced with poison.” I sigh, before continuing, “But I don’t know what kind.”

“Then purify it from her blo—” Breyla starts.

“I’ve already tried, my Gift has no effect on whatever this is.”

“Okay, so then we get her to a healer. How quickly is it spreading?”

I bite my tongue because I can’t bring myself to voice my doubts. The truth is that if my Hemonia Gift won’t remove the poison, I doubt the healers will have the ability to help. The few healers we have come to me when they encounter a poison they can’t treat. “We have a day, maybe two by my estimate.”

“Well, fuck.”

We’d spent all day and most of the night riding at top speed in hopes of reaching Ciyoria in time to save Nameah. After our attackers had disappeared, we were able to touch Julian without being burned. In order to transport his body home, Nameah had ridden with me so her horse could carry him. Had it been just Breyla and I, we probably could have ridden faster, but this was our only option.

Still, we made decent time and reached my parents in the middle of the night, leaving us just a day’s ride away from the capital. Our horses needed to rest and refuel, if only for a few hours before we pushed them to make it the rest of the way home. My parents were startled to see us pounding on their door in the middle of the night, but ushered us inside without question once they saw Nameah's state.

She had spiked a fever sometime around dusk, and I’d been monitoring her decline closely. Sweat drenched her forehead as she lay quietly resting in the parlor. Breyla, being the stubborn female she is, refused to rest, opting only to eat as she kept watch over her little mouse. The tiny female had endeared herself to the General in the short time we’d been with her .

I’m startled out of my thoughts by Breyla’s soft question. “How is she, Aurelius?”

“She’s fighting it. I can feel her body giving its all. But the poison is spreading. It’s keeping the wound from healing, so thank the gods that cut wasn’t deep.”

“Let us pray that’s enough,” she sighs.

“Little demon,” I start, trying to find the words to convey the reality of the situation to her.

“Don’t,” she commands. “I can’t bear the thought of bringing two bodies home, Aurelius. My heart can’t handle it.”

I say nothing. I fight the urge to tell her that she has the strongest heart of anyone I know; that it will bear it because it must. That her heart is one of my favorite things about her, and that it breaks my own to know how much pain it has already endured. As much as she’s already been hurt, she could be bitter and calloused, close her heart off. Yet, she still made room for one more. With Breyla, there always seemed to be room for more.

The soft thud, followed by the clamor of steel hitting stone, caught my attention as I turned the corner. I had come down to the training rooms to work out the tension in my shoulders. Gen and Raynor were helping me train with my Anima Gift, preparing me for a role in politics, but I was exhausted. The energy it took to hone this skill was far greater than anything it took to wield my Hemonia Gift. I had gained access to the ability to bend and control blood when I was very young and had spent years practicing. When this new Gift had manifested it had taken all of us by surprise. All of us being me, Gen, and Raynor. There were others with similar Anima Gifts at court, but none that I trusted. Raynor possessed one very rare Anima Gift, and he was helping me to learn mine.

I had not expected to find Breyla down here. More surprisingly, I hadn’t expected to find her looking so distraught. She hadn’t noticed my presence; something very unusual for her. The sound had come from her knees hitting the ground and her sword dropping. A breeze rolled in from the open door in front of us as she knelt there, just staring out into the distance.

“Princess,” I started, carefull so as to not startle her. I had never seen her in a state like this, so I wasn’t sure how she would respond.

She said nothing. “Princess, is something wrong?” I tried again, a little louder this time.

“He’s gone,” she whispered solemnly. Who is she referring to?

“Who’s gone?” I asked, kneeling beside her. Her eyes were red and her hair disheveled. She’s not crying now, but she might have been earlier. I had never witnessed Breyla cry over anything. During a challenge I had once sliced her hand so deep a healer had to be summoned, yet she hadn’t shed a tear. She was livid and promised to return the favor. But she hadn’t cried or whimpered in pain.

This side of Breyla was truly unsettling. She had sharp edges and even sharper words. Vulnerable and broken wasn’t a look I had ever seen on her. I hated it. More than that, I hated that I cared at all.

“It doesn’t matter. He wasn’t who I thought he was,” she mumbled.

It obviously mattered, but I was afraid to push her in this state. “Then he wasn’t worth your time,” I said anyway. Then it occurred to me that perhaps I didn’t think any males were worth her time. That I didn’t want any others to be worth her time. And that thought terrified me.

Nameah groans and blinks open her eyes. She sits up slowly, her movements sluggish. Her skin has taken on a gray hue, and her eyes are bloodshot. The symptoms suggest the poison is progressing faster; we don’t have much time left.

“Time to go,” I announce, knowing we’ve stayed longer than we should have .

I give Nameah my arm to help pull her to her feet, and we exit my family’s estate right as the sun is rising.

Beautiful shades of pink and orange paint the sky in an ethereal morning glow. Nameah stares at it as I hoist her into the saddle and take my place behind her. I wrap a steadying arm around her, holding her gently to my chest. The rising sunlight catches the tears pooling in her sapphire blue eyes, making them shine.

“You know, I never was a morning person. I regret that now. I never realized this is what I was missing. It’s breathtaking.” Her voice is reverent and regretful all at once.

“Hold tight, little warrior,” is all I can say as I kick Crea into a fierce pace, hoping and praying this isn’t the last sunrise she’ll see.

By the time we reach the castle gates, the sun is setting and Nameah is barely conscious. We halt only as long as it takes for Breyla to immediately yell at Samson to fetch Lady Ophelia. As we pull into the stables, I dismount Crea and pull Nameah with me, cradling her limp body in my arms.

I’m not even sure if she’s conscious, but she’s shivering, a fever ravaging her body. Ophelia appears in the stable as I lay Nameah on a fresh pile of hay.

“I don’t have time to explain, I just need you to trust me. She was cut with a poisoned blade, and I need you to heal her, Ophelia. Please.” Breyla’s voice quivers as she pleads with her lady to save this stranger’s life.

Without a second thought, Ophelia drops to her knees on the other side of Nameah. She grasps her limp hand between her own and closes her eyes. I swear I see a light glow coming from her hands as she pushes her magic into Nameah’s body. I blink, and the light is gone. Ophelia remains quiet for several more minutes until a loud groan comes from the little warrior’s lips.

It’s not one of relief, though. She’s in pain. Nameah’s body begins thrashing as her cries grow louder. I catch tears running down Breyla’s cheeks as she shushes Nameah.

“Hold on, little mouse. Ophelia is trying to help you,” she whispers as she brushes sweat-drenched locks out of her face.

“I-I’m sorry, Breyla. My magic...” Her voice trails off. “It’s not working. I don’t know what this is, but I can’t fix it.”

I see tears well in the raven-haired female’s eyes as she delivers the news I’ve been trying to convey to Breyla for the past day. There is no saving Nameah. Whatever this poison is, we don’t have the power to cure it.

“No,” Breyla wails. “No, it can’t be. There has to be something we can do!”

Nameah’s tortured moans grow louder as she cries, “Please, make it stop!”

“There’s one thing...” Ophelia whispers. “Send for my brother.”

I find the nearest servant to the stables and instruct them to bring Lord Layne at once. He arrives a few minutes later, and a look of anguish crosses his face.

As an empath, he’s probably feeling every emotion rolling off the dying girl and the three of us surrounding her. I can only imagine how overwhelming it feels.

“Layne, she’s dying. There’s nothing that can be done to stop it, but can you please lessen her suffering?” Ophelia looks at her brother with pleading eyes.

He nods and drops to his knees, taking the side opposite Ophelia. Breyla has Nameah’s head in her lap as she gently plays with her chestnut locks.

“What’s your name, beautiful?” Layne smiles sadly at her.

“Nameah,” she groans .

“Okay, Nameah. I’m going to make the pain stop. It’s going to be alright.”

He places his hands on each side of her face, cradling it gently. “Shhhh, beautiful,” he hums.

Slowly, her body stops trembling and her cries diminish. Her breathing evens out, and she opens her eyes. Beautiful sapphire eyes stare back at us, free of pain for the first time since she was injured.

“Brave little mouse, I am so proud of you,” Breyla praises, her fingers still twisting through Nameah’s hair.

“Thank you,” she croaks as she holds Layne’s gaze.

“You don’t need to thank me,” he grimaces. “No one should feel that kind of pain in their last moments.”

“How long do I have left?” A stray tear rolls down her cheek.

“Not long,” I say softly. “The poison is nearly at your heart, so you may only have a few minutes remaining.”

“Then I’d like to see the sunset one last time, please.”

“As you wish,” I reply, scoping her into my arms once more. I look to Layne before lifting her. “Can you maintain your hold on her without touching her face?”

“I can hold her hand and that will be enough.” He takes her left hand from Ophelia and stands with me as I lift Nameah.

We walk out of the stables and into the empty courtyard. The sun has moved past setting and has begun its evening gloaming hour. How fitting she should get to see both on her last day. As the sun makes its final descent, brilliant shades of pink, blue, and orange dance across the sky. Purple and black start to creep in slowly.

“I think I like this one the best,” Nameah whispers.

“Any final requests, little warrior?”

“I think I’d like to go out on my own terms. Does your power allow you to stop my heart?” Her question surprises me, but I nod.

“It does. ”

“Will it hurt?”

“No, it’ll feel like falling asleep.”

“Then I think I’d like that, please.”

“Are you ready now?” The poison is nearly at her heart, but I want this last choice to be hers.

“Yes,” she sighs.

I let my Hemonia Gift creep under her skin and wind its way through her veins. I will her heart to slow its beating until finally it stops altogether. Those dazzling blues drift closed for the last time as she takes her final breath in my arms.