A Jewel's Worth[on hold]

CHAPTER 15 - DID YOU EVER WONDER?

Vines grew in place of grass, and the trees whined in protest as their roots sprung out the earth, forming a wall around us. A crisp, chilling wind howled and hooted—the voices of the spirits woke in the forestry. The souls leered and jeered at my still frame.

"He's to die!" One spirit whispered, in a fearful, yet playful tone. I couldn't help but agree—this was my end, no doubt.

"The Emerald Witch seeks revenge!" Another spirit all but gasped in a low whisper, a soft and child-like voice spoke in fear of what Ame will do. Prepared, I was since so long ago. I didn't fear death. No. I feared life itself. Challenging and lonely, my life had been.

"Poor human. Pitiful human." Two spirits in sync repeated like a broken tune. They sounded distant and empty. Still, I don't need their pity for I was evil, and evil deserved what came to it.

The fireflies blazed into an amethyst shade, different from their characteristic green that glowed in the shadows. They stirred in the night and seemed to dance in curiosity, an altogether dark demeanor.

I looked upon the Emerald Witch, her beauty, splendorous, her eyes, unforgiving, and her wounds—although healed, burned brightly. I dreamt of a time like this—and the time had come but not soon enough. Her hand, cold and soft, still pressed around my face. Her nails dug into my flesh, marking it to let itself known—warm, trickled tears fell from the force, painting my cheeks and chin in red. I would have liked to have spoken more with Stack, but my time was up.

"So ready to die. You do not fight for your life nor try to persuade your way out from this end." Her eyes narrowed at my determined gaze. I stood not to reason myself from my fate. I sinned, now I must pay with my life. I didn't think she'd want me to speak—there was no need for words. We each knew what we must do.

"Tell me, would you die for him?" I pierced my eyes over hers, thoughts of Stack rushed through me, and I recalled each time I should have been there to protect him. My biggest regret was my final contract—but it wasn't time for regrets. It's all in the past, and I must let it die with me.

Ame threw a chilling stare, yet as though she faltered—a soft gleam of a touch fell on her visage, probably from reading my thoughts. The mind was a dismal place—pondering inside my mind was a waste.

"Let me have a look. What do you keep in there, assassin? So deep your thoughts go. The depths of your world are hollow but full of love. Who's love, I wonder?" Her nails dug deeper into my skin, almost as if she grasped firmly onto my brain, squeezing whatever memories were left. A tired sigh left my lips as I drew my thoughts to the day Stack said his first words took his first steps and laughed in happiness until it all broke down. The day he broke, so did I, but I didn't let him see me that way. I healed him the best way I knew how, with kindness and medicine. Unlike my father—he'd struck me into the cold murderer I was. Love and kindness never endured. The moment my mother bore me, be rid of her like so many others, he cared not for his kin and whores as he called them, only numerous amounts of bodies to shape into assassins.

I promised myself, no harm would come to those I cared for, and never to murder the innocent. How many of these promises did I break? How many more must I repent with my death?

If anyone asked, would I give my life for their own? Would I give my life to Stack? I answered, "Any day."

The few words I was able to deliver meant more to me than anything. Perhaps, they weren't the right words or the most eloquent, but it didn't matter. He mattered. Stack mattered. The Son, not of blood but life, I grew to love and cherished, mattered.

"I do not wish to pity you, assassin. But I can't help but pity the life written out for you." Ame softly whispered close to my ear as her eyes glowed, knowingly as she read my mind—maybe even my soul. "Your father was a devil and lived to kill every piece of you. Offered you up to finish the jobs of others. These hands, eyes, and body have killed more than the years I've longed to have with my Son." Clear, wet tears ascended from her face. Her lips twisted into a scowl as she saw the worst of me. I didn't resist as she drew out a memory I longed to forget ever happened.

I killed my brother and father. As a final test in our family, to prove my worth—I had to kill my brother. My father's words as he saw me kneel to the ground, coughing blood from every crevice, "Fight! Get up, and fight you swine! Useless! Incompetent weakling! You're no Son of mine! Pathetic! Kill, your brother, now!"

My brother, although seemed unyielding and cold—I knew from gazing at his eyes and a twitch in his left ear—he hated, feared of what became of us. But I also knew he wanted to live. He was about to finish me off with his blades by nicking my limbs, one cut at a time. My breath grew raspy, and my vision blurred to black until I felt my blade pierce through flesh—my brother's life, slowly left his body. He whispered a hot and shallow breath, "just like daddy, huh..." His last words meant nothing to others, but to me, it was my ticket to end his life.

My Father said as he watched coldly at my brother's corpse, "Not as pathetic as I thought. Still, this thing wasn't your brother. He's nothing. You there, send his body to the outskirts with the forgotten and the rats. Well done my, Son—" I struck him through his artery, quick and swift. His eyes bulged in shock, and I stabbed until his blood and skin crumbled and soaked the area.

He was no more. I held onto my brother and for the first time in years, I wept.

"Do you wish to see him again? He might be here with the lost souls." I remained, staring at Ame. My head finally cleared from the memory. She didn't pity me but mourned for me. Her face fell into disarray, torn between revenge and mercy. Nor did I smiled nor relieved.

"Your punishment will not be to die, but to give up a part of yourself and to protect Stack. I shall tie your lifeline to his, and if you fail to protect my, Son—I'll make sure to tear the strands one by one until you die of the pain alone." I widened my eyes to an impossible width. I tried voicing out an answer but was left a stupor.

"Don't think I've forgiven you, assassin! I merely gave you more time with Stack. He cares and perhaps, even loves you. Do we have a deal, Glacia? Not that you have a choice in the matter." I couldn't say anything, so I settled with a nod. She sighed as she removed her hand from my bruised and bloodied face and cringed at the spots of blood on her fingertips. Only to wave her hand inside the lake of Spirit fish and soak my face with it. I coughed and blinked as my eye twitched from the action.

"Now, I must sleep." She didn't wait for me to respond to her and walked away to her house.

"Why?" She stopped right at the opening of the door but didn't bother herself to turn right back.

"Why let me live, Ame?" I said her name and hardly realized the area returned to what it once was. She looked reluctant to answer, but I knew deep down she would.

"I wish for you to suffer more, but I also wish for my Son to be happy. And if you live, it'll be good for him. If I kill you, it'll affect his future—I've seen it. So I chose the hardest, but the best outcome. Nothing more. Plus, I know you expected to die. Goodnight, assassin!" She practically slammed the door closed. It shook and thwacked from her force.

I looked to the sky above, wondered if there were better days ahead. But relieved at knowing, I can continue to protect Stack.