Blood Bath

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Claramay's POV

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Claramay's POV

I could hear a scream. My ears hurt and I wished I could stop that scream.

I tried to find the source of the sound but realized that it was me screaming.

Aaron was sitting up against the wall, his head drooping at a weird angle, with a blood soaked shirt and a deep gash on his throat while the dark liquid pooled around him. He seemed to be breathing heavily, but breathing.

Thank God!

Did that bitch slash his throat?

Oh no! I knew I had to go to him, to do something to stop it all. He was losing blood, way too much blood.

But I was frozen, unable to move. Partly  from the fear of being discovered with a human in my room and also from the dreaded depression in my chest knowing it was entirely my fault, bringing him to this land for my own selfish needs.

Out of the corner of my eye I saw another figure appear. A dark red cloak.

Ruby!

Oh no!

She stood at the threshold, completely bewildered by the drama enfolding in the room.

Another scream from Garnet drew me back into my senses. Emerald had blood on his hands and the sword held steadily at Garnet's throat was dangerously close to her windpipe.

Ruby seemed to be torn between whom to approach. She looked at Guardian Emerald and then her eyes rested on her brother. The eyes were cool, composed, quite different from the wild fury in her when she was brought in first.

She focused on her brother and her eyes softened, glazed over, perhaps remembering all their moments of childhood — the moments, a few of which involved me.

She took a few staggering steps and knelt to the ground beside Aaron.

He lifted up his head and I could see the fear and the apprehension in his eyes.

Poor him. He got out of the clutches of Garnet only to land in the hands of another Vešterka.

I could see him making an effort to move, to do anything to escape from his own sister.

She placed a hand on his chest. His bewildered eyes rested on her face, trying to find the threads of an unknown connection long back — the connection of ages —the connection of lives — the connection of blood.

An unknown conversation flowed between those pair of eyes.

She carefully placed the edge of her cloak to his throat, wiping away the blood.

I exhaled in relief. The cut wasn't that deep.

And then she hugged him. He lifted his shaking hands in an effort to return the embrace and I saw, tears. His and hers. Tears that washed away all the malice, tears that were almost magical.

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