15. Chapter Fifteen

The sun's warmth seeps into my skin, blinding my eyes. I smile at the energy it gives to me. Though, it does feel muted. Oh well, I'm too happy to care.

How long have I been lying here? I don't remember. Maybe I should go see if—no, who would be waiting for me? This is my world, and I enjoy the solitude.

Something urgent tugs at my mind; I push it away as I roll in the soft grass, giggling when the blades tickle my face. This seems like the perfect place for a nap. When was the last time I ate?

"Stop! Leave me alone!" I sound foolish—talking to myself—but the questions keep pounding into my head. I do not understand why they won't go away! I just want to enjoy the warm day in peace.

Is it warm?

"You know what? Fine, I'll prove it to you—" I touch the grass and freeze. Raising my hands toward the sun, my brows furrow at the lack of sensation. I can tell the warmth is there, but it's not here. It's the idea of warmth. Something intangible where I am.

Where am I?

I do not feel so happy anymore…there's a sliver of dread burrowing in my throat. I should open my eyes. I don't remember what this place looks like. But suddenly I'm afraid to. I shudder as the hairs along my neck rise. Someone is watching me.

Just as I snap my eyes open, the brightness of the sun flicks off. It takes a moment to adjust, but when my surroundings settle, I take in the familiar layout of my apartment. I'm sitting on my thin mattress, my legs tangled in the one blanket I have. The darkness seeping from the window does nothing to explain why I thought I was sitting under the sun just now. It was so bright.

Clearing my throat, I stand from the floor, groaning at the stiffness in every muscle. My feet drag as I walk to the sink, frowning when I see no clean glasses. Actually, there's nothing in the cabinets at all? I'll think about that later. Bending over the sink, I turn on the faucet to soothe the crackling ache in my throat. The plastic handle creaks when I spin it—it's annoying, but it's not the worst thing about this place.

"Are you fucking kidding me?" I groan when no water spills from the faucet. "Stupid, fucking, piece of shit landlord." I'm so tired of paying rent for walls that rot further each day. This place is horrid enough, but now the water doesn't even work? I'll need to take a few dollars from my savings to go grab a bottle. I'm so parched, and my need for hydration is edging desperate.

I stomp over to the window, where I have a few scraps of clothing. Pulling on some leggings, I glance outside and pause. It's a complete blackout—void of even the slightest flicker of light. Something deep in my soul tells me that's not the city outside.

"Hello, Anellah." I squeal at the distorted voice, spinning to see someone—something—standing near the front door. "We meet again." I cringe at the sound; it's as if a thousand people are talking at once. The thing in front of me feels…incomplete. It's here in my apartment, but at the same time I don't believe it is.

"Meet again? What are you?" I cannot see through the hood covering its face, but I feel it smile. Every cell in my body screams to run, but I can't seem to move. The thing walks forward, and there's no way to fully describe what it looks like. It's the shape of a human, but the matter of the void outside my window. I have a sense that if I touched it, I would be lost within its grasp forever.

"Clever girl." I really try not to cringe this time, but I can't help it. It feels wrong. It doesn't belong here. "Neither do you, Anellah." My eyes shift to where I would think its face is, if it even has one. I must have spoken aloud. "You did not."

"What the fuck? You can hear my thoughts?" It doesn't move, but I feel it nod its head.

"We have not much time. You must choose."

My body trembles. "Choose what? And you still haven—wait, I recognize your voice." Where have I heard it before? A strong sensation tugs at my mind, and my hands cover my ears to stop the pressure. "Gods, what is going on?"

"Shh, Anellah. We have not much time."

Shh, Anellah. I'll see you soon.I remember it said that to me right before…right before I woke up. Where did I wake up?

This time, when the unyielding presence in my head tugs, I tug back. I remember everything that led me to this point, and I wrap my arms around my waist.

"I'm dead."

"Almost," it confirms, standing so still I'm not even sure it's breathing.

"You were there…that day in Ceross. It was you that told me to wake up." The scream…the distorted voice…the horror I felt being in its presence. I know in my bones this is the same thing that helped me that day.

"I do not like to interfere. However, you were being particularly difficult, and it was time for you to leave."

"Why are you here now, then?" I feel its head tilt to the side, soulless eyes watching me closely.

"You have a choice to make." Wow, that was so helpful. I wince, my eyes scrunching. I shoot it an apologetic smile.

Something it said is bothering me. "You said I was almost dead. Is that my choice? To live or die?" I feel it nod, though it still hasn't moved.

"There's a war coming. One I'll most likely die in, anyway." I laugh, the sound void of humor. "I've no clue how to kill the demons. I was just shot with an obsidian arrow that I assume came from Andras's army. I'm literally leading an entire city to death. How can we kill something we know nothing of?" It stares, and I roll my eyes. "What happens if I choose death?"

"You will move on."

"And what happens if I choose life?"

"You will move on."

I throw my arms out, groaning. "Fuck, you are really full of answers, aren't you?"

"Yes. All of them." I ignore it, rubbing my lips with a finger.

This should be an easy choice—of course I want to live. They need my help. Casmir and Emrys would be broken if I left. Xamira would leave them, too.

The memory of a few minutes ago, soaking in the sun and feeling so free and happy, assaults my thoughts. I could be done. I wouldn't have to deal with the stress, or pain, or waves of too many emotions anymore. It would be so easy to just let go.

"No. I won't leave them. Let me go back." I feel its relief and answering smile.

"This will hurt." Its voices fill the room, a commanding presence that no one would ever dare question. An oozing, blacked out hand rises from its body. That is so fucking weird.

"Wait!" It pauses. "You're the fates." I do not phrase it as a question because I know the truth in my soul.

"Yes." That's the only parting word it gives before a hard force slams into my abdomen, stealing my ability to breathe. I stumble back and fall through the window, a scream dying in my throat because noise does not exist out here.

I fall and fall, losing all senses, becoming nothing but it. Just an object in the void of time. Nothing more, nothing less. Not alive, but still an idea. Memories do not form, as all of time is happening now. There is no past or future, while the present is merely a concept.

I sit up abruptly, wheezing in a strangled, shallow breath. Something catches in my throat, and I cough until I'm sure my lungs will spill out. I press my hands deeply to my chest, not missing the fresh blood that covers them.

Fuck, everything hurts so bad. I feel like my entire body was shredded and taped back together, though my abdomen is the worst.

My abdomen. The arrow.

I look down, frantically touching everywhere to find the arrow. It's not there.

"I shouldn't be alive. I shouldn't be here." My voice is barely a whisper. "It said almost...it told me to choose. It shoved me out of a fucking window. That bastard!"

"Nell?" I wince at the quick movement of my head as I look up. "What are you saying, love?" Emrys. He watches me as if I'll disappear; he looks so worried.

Casmir is next to him, his eyes drooping heavily. His forearm is completely red.

Calix stands at the end of the table I'm on, his hand covering his mouth. His blue eyes shine red, as if he's been crying.

To my right, Cyran watches me with a stoic expression. It seems like she's questioning how I am here just as much as I am. Well, she'll have to live with the confusion. I don't think the fates would appreciate me talking about it.

I shudder, not just from the memory of its voice, but also because it is extraordinarily cold in here.

"How are you feeling?" Casmir's soft voice caresses the panic. But the second I look at him and Emrys again, the panic comes back. So much blood. Their faces, hair, clothes, skin. Even their boots are covered in dried, crusted blood.

"Is that mine?" I croak, rubbing my throat lightly. Calix jolts out of view to bring me a glass of water a moment later. "Thank you."

"Yes, it's yours." I look between my males, reality sinking into me slower than I would like. But I'm alert enough to realize something horrible just happened to them.

"How?" Cas rubs a hand down his crimson-smeared face before meeting my eyes. He and Emrys share a look before telling me everything that has occurred since the training arena.

They all saved my life, traumatizing themselves in the process. They are unsure of what spell Ivana used, but honestly, who fucking cares? The spell worked. The spell that uses magic that requires sacrifice. I sit up straighter, looking around Emrys toward the door.

"Where is she?"

"I'll go get her, love." Em leans in to grab my hand, giving it the gentlest touch of his lips. He turns to leave the room, glancing at me once more before he's out of sight.

"I don't think he truly believes you're here," Cas's voice cracks. I take his hand and press his palm to my cheek, closing my eyes at the soothing warmth. "We almost lost you, Nell. I felt—your heart—it slowed…" A sob leaves him, causing my bottom lip to tremble. I cannot believe I considered the other option for even a moment.

I'm just so tired.

My nose crinkles when I take a deep breath; the scent of dried blood mixed with a bad concoction of herbs is intense. It almost feels like there's something rotting in the dark corners of this small room. Gross.

"Your parents are waiting outside." Cyran adjusts herself, straightening in a way that tells me she's going to leave the room. I nod and thank her, attempting to conjure a smile when Calix comes to stand at my side.

"You okay, Nell?" he whispers, scrunching his fists before dropping them to his sides.

Am I okay?

I look down at my body. The black leather pants still hug my legs, though they're significantly more dirty and cut at the top, exposing my low abdomen. I'm not sure what they did with my shirt, though given the urgency of what happened, I assume it's shredded somewhere. I'm sitting in a black bra, with splatters of red and black peppered across my skin.

But that's not the most disturbing part. No, it's the scar that travels from my sternum to my pelvic region. An actual scar. I reach to touch the raised skin, wincing at the tenderness. This will most certainly be a souvenir from the arrow. I wonder if there's a round scar on my back?

"I guess I'm as okay as I can be." I meet the tired eyes of my best friend. "Do we know who shot the arrow?" He looks at the floor and fidgets with his fingers.

"Yes. The male killed himself before we could reach him, but there was a note stuck to his jacket."

I wait for several seconds for him to elaborate, but he doesn't. "Well? What is it?" I snap harshly, immediately feeling remorseful about my tone. Calix opens the button on his front pocket, reaching in to grab a worn piece of paper. He hands it to me and my blood freezes.

I'll see you soon, my sweet.

I read the message a dozen times before crumpling the paper roughly, as if it's the one to blame for everything that's happening. I run a hand through my matted hair, glancing up when Emrys and Ivana enter the room.

The witch looks…sick. Her normally bright, crimson eyes are now the color of a muted blush. Her pale skin has a gray-ish tint, and her features are weathered. Tired.

"I am relieved to see you awake, Anellah. I was quite worried you wouldn't make it after the obsidian had spread so far." I narrow my eyes and bite my lip.

"What was the cost?"

"What?" She bristles, not at all fooling me. I raise a brow, not responding to the ridiculous question. After a moment she sighs, clasping her hands in front of her. "The price was low, barely anything at all. It is nothing you need to worry yourself with."

"Don't fucking lie to me, Ivana. You basically brought me back from the dead." She shakes her head, my eyes widening at the dismissal. "I was on the other side! I know how close to death I was—I spoke to it! If unblocking my memories required a piece of my soul, what could have possibly been the cost of cheating death?"

The witch is silent for minutes before resolve settles on her face. "The fates spoke to me as well." I sit straighter at that; did it offer her a choice, too? "The cost was high, but it agreed to bear most of the burden."

"What does that mean?"

"It did not tell me what would be required on its end," she murmurs, appearing significantly more tired than she was a few minutes ago.

"But it took most of the burden. What did it require of you?" I do not care if I'm being pushy, I want to know what someone else sacrificed just to give me more time.

I need to know.

"Anellah, it is not imp—"

"It's important to me! Tell me."

She breathes deeply, closing her eyes before answering. "The cost was my immortality. I will age as a mortal does." Her voice quivers, but she clears her throat to cover the sound.

"What?" The word barely leaves my lips. She gave up her life. For me? "Why would you agree to that? I—I don't know what to say."

She shuffles to my side, grabbing my hand. "You say nothing. I made the choice not only for you, but for the entire realm. If you are not here to aid in the fight, all will be lost; that much I know. I have lived for hundreds of years and—selfishly—this is my way of trying to repay the damage Imogen has done.

"You must live, Anellah. For all of us. So, do not thank me, and do not feel guilty. Take that anger and direct it toward him." I watch her, a silent understanding passing between us. Nodding, I open my mouth to thank her, but snap it shut when she hardens her stare.

"Sorry to interrupt," Cyran announces, rushing into our cramped room. "Prince, there is a large group of fae outside the building. They have seen the gods and sorids, as well as the weaponry we carry, and are demanding an audience."

Casmir looks down at himself, grimacing at what he must walk outside looking like. "Okay—thank you,Cyran." She nods and walks out as Cas turns to his captain. "Stay with her. I will spread the word that an announcement will be held tomorrow in the square." Em nods once, side-stepping to allow his prince to pass.

"Fuck. We need to get our shit together…quickly. Andras meant for this note to be a warning, but I know him. He's too proud to not announce his arrival, so he and his army will be here very soon."