Lost My Savior, Found His Pain

A soft touch, like a feather brushing against my cheek. It was a phantom caress, a ghost of comfort in the desolate cold. I felt a wave of profound sorrow, not my own, but belonging to someone else. A deep, aching sadness that seemed to envelop me for a fleeting moment. Who? I wondered, my mind a hazy fog. Who mourns for me? But the warmth vanished as quickly as it came. The sorrow receded. I was alone again, left with the familiar ache of my dissolving body. My consciousness drifted, a flickering candle in a strong wind. Time lost all meaning. When I finally stirred, hours or maybe days later, the phantom touch was gone. The sorrow was gone. Only the cold remained. Rough hands, belonging to the same guards who had dragged me before, clamped around my arms. They pulled me up, jostling my weakened frame. My body felt like it was made of tissue paper. Each movement threatened to tear me apart. They didn't take me to my room. Instead, they dragged me outside, into the biting morning air. The wind was harsh, whipping through my thin shift. My teeth chattered uncontrollably. My skin, already translucent from the Blood Bath, felt like it was tearing under the assault of the cold. I shivered violently. My stomach clenched, a hollow pit of hunger and nausea. My throat was dry, cracked. We stopped in a clearing. The sun beat down, deceptively warm. But the wind still carried a chill. Cliffton stood there, Kim by his side. She was draped in a luxurious fur cape, looking regal and utterly unaffected by the cold. She smiled, a cruel, knowing curve of her lips. "Ah, our little witch has finally decided to join us," Kim purred, her voice dripping with fake concern. "Are you hungry, Adelaide? Thirsty?" I tried to speak, but my throat was too dry, too constricted. I could only manage a weak cough. My body swayed, my vision darkening at the edges. Kim glanced at a guard, a subtle nod. The guard stepped forward. He punched me. A sharp, brutal blow to my stomach. It landed precisely on the spot where an old wound, still raw and unhealed from a previous extraction, lay hidden beneath my shift. A gasp tore from my lips. Pain exploded, a thousand needles piercing my already fragile flesh. My knees buckled. My unique cells, my healing power, they were too depleted to mend this quickly. Warm blood, a dark contrast against my pale skin, bloomed on my shift. It spread, a stark, undeniable stain. Cliffton's eyes narrowed. A fleeting expression of displeasure crossed his face. He watched the blood spread, his jaw tightening. Then, almost imperceptibly, he took off his opulent velvet cloak. He flung it over me, covering the bloody wound, covering my dissolving form. It wasn't a gesture of kindness, I knew. It was to hide the evidence, to maintain appearances. "Heal yourself, Adelaide," Cliffton commanded, his voice cold. "Stop being so dramatic. You always play the victim." He turned to Kim, his voice softening. "She' s just trying to upset you, my love. She knows how sensitive you are in your condition." He looked back at me, his gaze hardening. "Don't think for a second that your little tricks will work on me. You're trying to provoke Kim. Trying to make trouble." He thinks I'm trying to provoke her? My mind screamed. I'm dying! But the words remained trapped, unspoken. He saw what he wanted to see. He believed what he wanted to believe. He believed her. Always her. Kim, seeing Cliffton's attention waver, pressed closer to him. She leaned her head on his shoulder, a small, triumphant smile playing on her lips. She whispered something, her voice too low for me to hear. But I saw the malice in her eyes. I felt the poison in her words. She glanced at me, her smile widening. My heart sank. Here it came. The next lie. The next trap. "Cliffton, my love," Kim purred, her voice sweet, innocent. "I... I'm a little worried about the baby. Adelaide's... presence, her essence... it feels so dark. So cold." She squeezed his arm. "What if she's trying to harm our child? What if she's using her fading power, her dying wish, to curse our lineage? To stop our heir from ever being born?" The words were a direct hit. My mind reeled. Curse their child? I, who had dedicated my life to preserving his? I, who carried the burden of our shared secret, our symbiotic histories? "She wants to poison our future, Cliffton! Just like she poisoned your parents! She uses her life force, her blood, to drain others, to take their vitality for her own twisted ends!" Kim's voice rose, a dramatic crescendo. Cliffton stiffened. His eyes, already stormy, darkened to an almost black hue. His jaw clenched, muscles working furiously. He turned from Kim, abandoning her with a suddenness that made her gasp. He took a menacing step towards me. His gaze was pure ice, pure hatred. "Are you trying to harm my unborn child?" he snarled, his voice a low, terrifying growl. "Is that your latest trick, witch? To attack the innocent? To steal their very life before it even begins?" "No!" I rasped, finally finding my voice. It was a broken sound, thin and reedy. "No, Cliffton, I would never-" He cut me off. "Silence! Your lies mean nothing! I will not allow you to pollute my bloodline, to stain my legacy!" He grabbed my arm, his fingers digging into the wounds from the Blood Bath. I cried out, a raw, primal scream of pain. My body, already dissolving, felt like it was being ripped apart. "If you so much as think of harming my son, Adelaide, I swear, I will make you wish you had never been born! I will condemn you to a fate worse than any death!" He shook me, violently. Then he shoved me away. I tumbled to the ground, landing hard on the scorching earth. The ground burned my dissolving skin. The pain was excruciating, searing through my already weakened body. My arms, my legs, they were fading. The motes of light rose in greater numbers now, shimmering and disappearing. My vision flickered. I couldn't feel my fingers anymore. I'm dying, I thought, the realization settling over me with a chilling certainty. This is it. The end is truly here. "Murderer!" Kim shrieked, her voice triumphant. "She's trying to murder our heir, Cliffton! Look at her! Her evil is consuming her!" Suddenly, a new voice cut through the air. Urgent. Male. "Lord Faulkner! We've found another one!" Cliffton paused, his rage momentarily eclipsed by surprise. He turned, his gaze fixed on a breathless guard rushing into the clearing. "Another one?" Cliffton demanded. "What do you mean?" "Another of her... her kind, sir!" The guard panted, pointing in the distance. "A young male. He was trying to find this place, asking questions." My heart leaped. A young male. Asking questions. It couldn't be. "He looks like her, sir!" the guard continued. "The same eyes, the same strange glow!" My breath caught in my throat. Benny. My sweet, innocent Benny. He had come for me. He had found me. No. No, this couldn't be happening. He was supposed to be safe. He was my only hope, my only anchor. Benny! My mind screamed his name. A wave of protectiveness, fierce and primal, surged through my fading body. I had to save him. I had to. "Bring him!" Cliffton commanded, his voice sharp with renewed suspicion. "Bring him here! Let's see what other secrets this family of witches is hiding!" I tried to move, to stand, to run, but my body was unresponsive. I was fading. My legs felt like mist. They brought him. Benny. My little brother. He was shackled, his face bruised, his clothes torn. His eyes, so full of youthful innocence, were wide with fear. He was chained like an animal, a glowing collar around his neck, suppressing his own nascent powers. He was so small, so vulnerable. He looked so much like me.