Bereft: Demise

15 | Of Lies Told

I woke with a noisy, strangled gasp.

A sheet slid from over my head and crumpled in my lap. Darius's room was quiet and cool, my uneven breathing a startling contrast to the morning stillness. Candlelight leaked under the shut door from the parlor where the hushed rasp of turning pages could be heard.

Sweat soaked the neck and back of my pajamas, adhering the cotton fabric to my skin. My hair was loose and bedraggled. I couldn't recall returning to the room, nor changing or falling asleep. I had no memory of yesterday's evening. 

I lay still on the mattress and stared at the ceiling's painted slats as my heartbeat slowed. The vision weighed upon me, its vestiges clinging to my mind like the dawn's mist clung to the glass of a window. Again and again I recalled Peroth's terrified eyes and Darius's savage, blood-splattered expression.

The Sins were not innocent creatures. Even in their youth, they had been killers created to take the souls of other beings. I had witnessed and been the victim of their innate cruelty several times. Balthier had been the driving catalyst for the human sacrifices completed by the Exordium. Darius had been the weapon I wielded to take the cult's life. They were not good creatures.

Yet, I didn't think them inherently evil. We don't label a tiger or a shark as evil simply because it attacks and kills a human. It was in their nature, and while that nature was unfortunate, it could typically be avoided. For the most part, so too could the murderous nature of the Sins. 

The Dreaming Children in the memory had been single-minded in their hunt. They hadn't hesitated. With unflinching dedication, the Dreaming had acted to eliminate the Original Sins. They had been unsuccessful in killing at least four of the demons I knew today, though the vision hadn't imparted the fate of the other three. The elves had treated them like animals. 

Why had I been shown such things? What purpose was there in sharing an ancient plight I doubted even Darius still remembered? What was I supposed to glean from such wanton violence and terror? 

Uncomfortable, I rolled to the edge of the bed and tried to get up. Vertigo set in and I slumped, wincing at the sudden throbbing in my temples. My arms trembled with the effort to remain upright and the muscles in my hands ached. I was exhausted, and nausea bubbled in my stomach. I groaned.

The sound of shuffling paper in the parlor quieted.

What in the hell? Did the vision do this to me? I reached for the matches and candle waiting on the nightstand, but only managed to topple the damn thing. I swore. 

The thud of footsteps reverberating through the floorboards was succeeded by the screech of the bedroom door's hinges. "Sara?" Darius asked as he stood at the threshold, his hand propped on the frame. The light from the main room streamed in around him, hurting my tender eyes. My headache doubled in strength.

I looked away from the demon, vigorously rubbing my face as I sat on the mattress's edge. The room swayed and I pressed my palms over my eyes, trying to mitigate the motion. "Yeah?"

Darius came closer. I felt him pause in front of me, and his warm hands framed my face. Startled, I opened my eyes and found the demon staring down with a definite crease between his brows. The pain in my head eased. 

"You're not feeling well," he stated. It wasn't a question. His hands remained where they were as he tipped my face up toward his own. The shadows upon the wainscoting bent and curled as if following Darius. "You retired early. You were already asleep when I returned and checked on you around seven yesterday. When did you go to bed?"