My mind spun as I wound my way through the marble corridors. Not even two hours had passed since the battle, but down in the cellars, locked away with the rest of the court -- it had felt like an eternity. I'm not sure for how long Azure stood there, clinging to my shoulder as she stared at the iron-cast door with wide eyes. I knew why -- Raina never made it down. Then again, many people didn't. I'd tried to console her, but I was no good -- not when only one thing could occupy my mind.
I turned another corner and spied the entrance to the infirmary. Without a second thought, I slammed my shoulder into the frosted glass door, hard enough to leave a bruise. I stormed inside, breathing in the familiar tang of anti-septic and blood. Pained groans rose from the beds around me, as nurses and doctors alike bustled about the wounded. I looked at all the faces around me, but none of them were Faelen. Chewing my lip, I found myself propelling towards the singular door near the back. If he wasn't out there, then he had to be in that one. He had to.
Just a few feet from the iron handle, a grip on my arm stopped me. I turn, frustrated, and jerked my arm away, but the male was already blocking my path.
"Sorry, Miss. No one is allowed in there."
I stared at the man, assessing him. Dark hair. Sharp, assessing eyes. Doctor. Omega, just as all the medical professionals were.
"I have to see the Delta," I said slowly. I watched as the doctor's green eyes shifted to the door, confirming my suspicions.
"He's not in there."
"Liar," I hissed, pushing past him. He stumbled back in shock as I grabbed the door handle and wrenched it open. The room was dark, and I waited for my eyes to adjust.
"Miss--!" I slammed the door in the doctor's face and turned the lock. As the doctor pounded on the door behind me, I took a few moments to scan the room. Porcelain vases. A window veiled by a curtain. A heart monitor beating quietly in the dim. A bed. A body. A slither of sunlight.
I covered my mouth to stifle a gasp. "Faelen?"
The body stirred. The door to the room burst open, allowing the light to spill in. I whirled to see the doctor standing with two nurses, his face red with annoyance. He grabbed my arm so hard it could bruise. "I told you--"
"Hands off her, doc," a voice snarled. It was raspy, almost pained. I craned my neck towards the bed, and another whimper escaped me. The light from the doorway was spilling on him, and I could see him clearly now. His dark skin was glinting with sweat, looking almost pallid in the sunlight. His face was littered with a multitude of cuts and bruises, his left eye swollen entirely shut. His ribcage rattled with uneven breaths, and I could tell by the unsteady rise and fall of his chest that the task alone was an effort.
His body looked weak, frail -- but the fire in that singular orange eye told me his mind wasn't in such a state. "Let her go. Now."
The man released me, bowing his head. "Yes, of course. Apologies, Delta. However, please know that no one aside from medical professionals are permitted to see you while you recuperate." His eyes slid to mine, and a cold trickle of sweat ran down my back. "This young lady here thought it a good idea to shove the doctor and lock him out of his own patient's room."
I could have sworn humor flashed over Faelen's features before that cold, steely demeanour took over them again. "No, let her stay. Five minutes. Rest of you, out."
"But--"
"Need I repeat myself?" Faelen muttered, his eye honing on the doctor. The doctor shook his head hastily before turning to leave with the nurses in toe. With one final look of apprehension my way, the man shut the door and send the room into darkness again.
Several beats of silence passed. I found myself staring at the foot of Faelen's bed rather than at the man himself. I found that, the longer I stared, the more injuries I spotted, and the guiltier I felt.
"Do you know the fundamental laws of battle, Kyra?"
I swallowed the ash in my throat, daring a look at his face. "Well, I mean, yes, of course--"
"There are three laws," Faelen interrupted, holding up three fingers. I noticed how they trembled in the slither of light, as though that movement alone costed him. Even so, his face betrayed nothing. Nothing other than cool, controlled fury. I suppressed a shiver. "One. You fight until you drop. You do not stop until every last opponent is on the ground dead."
He put a finger down. I winced as I spied another long cut on his arm, covered by a thin gauze.
"Two, battles should be brought to an end as quickly as possible. The sooner you neutralize one enemy, the sooner you can move on to the next."
Another finger down. I swallowed again.
"And lastly, but perhaps most important..." He looked at me, then, and the look in his eyes had me pinned to the spot. "Three, you never, ever abandon your comrade in battle. If they go down, you go down with them. End. Of. Story."
He slammed his fist on the metal nightstand with the last word, and I jerked upright. The ring of metal cut through the silence, and I could do nothing but hold his stare. In his eyes, I saw it all -- the conviction, the anger, the betrayal. When it got too much, I turned away. "But you're alive, so does it really matter? It's over."
Faelen barked a laugh. "Alive? Alive? Do not insult me, Kyra. I went into Burnout. I had to draw out every inch of my fucking power just so I could stand a chance. I obliterated everyone and everything in that room -- myself along with it. I did all that convinced I was signing my own death warrant." He leaned forward as much as his injured body would permit, and I found myself stepping back. "So, no, don't tell me it's all okay because I'm alive. I should be dead."
A chill shot through me at the thought, and I found myself hugging my arms to my chest. The words 'Faelen' and 'dead' didn't belong together in a sentence. Faelen was strong, durable, and nothing could best him. And yet... seeing him in this state, with tubes in his arms and bandages covering almost ever bare inch of skin... I couldn't deny it. Faelen had almost died. He should have died, and yet he hadn't. I knew I would forever be grateful to the god that had decided to spare him.
I hadn't realized how long I'd been silent until Faelen waved an expectant hand my way. "So, Kyra, have anything to say for yourself? An alibi perhaps?"
I shook my head. "I just... I don't know what came over me."
"Oh, well I do," he scoffed. Then, he turned to me, and another chill rang up my spine. "It was fear, Kyra. That is what fear does when you let it control you. It makes you run from battles with your tail between your legs." He picked up something from his nightstand, idly turning it in his palm. I could have sworn something pained flashed across his face, but it was too swollen to tell. "It makes you run from your friends..."
I grimaced. "Faelen--"
He slammed down the artefact, making the metal ring again. "You're not ready to face Azriel, Kyra. I knew your fear was bad, but I had no idea it ran this deep." He leaned forward again. "You let your fear control you, and this was the result. It made you a coward. At this rate, you'll never make it past the court gates -- not when his presence alone is enough to reduce you. And for god's sake, Kyra; it wasn't even the real him!"
I sucked in some air as though I was about to contradict him, but no words made it to my tongue. Deep down, I knew he was right. I couldn't face Azriel -- not like this. I knew I would have issues when I finally had to face him, but running like a coward? I never knew such a thing was programmed into me.
"I'm just..." I let my arms flop to my sides. "I'm sorry, Faelen. I really am--"
"Noooo," he groaned, flopping back into his bed. "No, no, no, no. I don't want to hear it."
A heat burned behind my eyes. "Faelen--"
His gaze snapped to mine. "No, Kyra, I can't accept your apology. This isn't a matter of sorrows, this is a matter of loyalty. You left me for dead -- I saw it in your eyes. You left that room knowing I would die."
I shook my head towards the ground as my vision began to blur. "I didn't, I don't... I was scared--"
"Oh, save it," he snapped, and I stared up at him, the rage in his eyes like a dagger to my heart. "I was scared, Kyra. I was going to die alone. I was surrounded by a bunch of gloating idiots who thought they had me, and I believed them, too. I took a silver bolt intended for your own damn heart, and I'm repaid with abandonment. Now I'm bruised, broken, burnt-out... I should be the one who's fucking crying!"
I quickly brushed away my tears with a sniffle. For a few moments I just stared at him, not sure what to say. His angry eyes scanned mine, but after a few moments, that flame gave way to a strange tenderness. Finally, he sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose.
"You know what? I can't be angry at you. I knew what I was signing up for when I took that shot. I knew exactly how it would end."
It took me a moment to register what he was saying. "Faelen... you did that thinking you would die?"
For a moment, he didn't respond. I thought he never would, until he focused on me again. "One hair from my vena cava, Kyra. That's what the doctor said. If you don't know what that is, it's a pretty damn important vein. So, yes, I did that thinking I would die."
I covered my mouth, and in an instant, all the guilt slammed into me. The disappointment, the shame... all at myself. This was my fault, all because I was scared. All because I couldn't face Azriel.
"Just go, Kyra," Faelen said. At first, I thought it was a command, but then the light caught the glistening in his eyes, and I registered the plea in his voice. He wasn't asking for this -- he was begging. "Please."
My heart dropped at that word, for it was wrung with only one emotion: hurt. I'd hurt Faelen, and for once, it wasn't physical.
I wanted to say more before the door was thrown open, and light consumed the room again. Faelen turned away, but I knew he was crying. That had to have been tears I saw. I'd never seen him cry, but knowing I'd caused it riddled me with so much pain that I could barely breathe.
"Time's up," the doctor announced, reaching for my arm before dropping his hand as he thought better of it. "Come, girl. He needs to recuperate."
I cast a longing look Faelen's way, hoping to see his face, but he was still turned away. So, without another word, I pushed past the doctor and stormed through the infirmary. It was only once I made it outside did I allow the raw, guttural sobs to escape my throat. I don't recall running off to my room, or even the people who probably saw me on the way. All I could think of was the pain in his face, in his voice. The pain of my own betrayal. And with it all, one singular thought rang out over and over again.
When had I become such a coward?