"He'd be dead already that way and to him, to be dead was best."
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Chapter 16 Dead Already
For a long while, Krushem didn't want to wake up. The darkness was all that clouded his thoughts. It surrounded him on all sides, pressing into him like a weight he couldn't push off. It was cold, numb.
He felt nothing. No fear. No hurt. It was like everything was gone. All he knew and all that he was now ceased to exist within this void of darkness he'd found himself in.
But just when Krushem felt some resemblance of peace, he was suddenly thrust into a deeper crevice of his mind, into a memory he'd hoped to have forgotten.
He found himself standing on soil he'd swore he'd never step foot on again. The sky was shockingly blue, a deep azure color contrasting with the brown color of the earth at his feet.
He passed by a puddle, and in the water he glimpsed his reflection. His hair was groomed back, his cheeks aglow and his armor glinted in the sunlight. There was a lopsided grin upon his face and a twinkle in his green eyes he thought had been snuffed out long ago.
"I'm so proud of you, big brother!" A shrill voice shattered Krushem's eardrums before his side was rammed into and a pair of arms wound around his waist, holding on tight.
He glanced down and his heart filled with the utmost warmth as he gazed upon his littlest sister's face. Elisa's bright blue eyes danced with excitement and she had the widest smile on her face as she bounced on her feet, sending her brown curls swaying. A few inches away, their father was walking hand in hand with their mother. Their parents' gazes were upon them, and Krushem saw the pure love upon their expressions.
"Krew-shame! Are you gonna go to war now?" Elisa droned on, talking so fast that Krushem could barely make out her words. But her excitement was contagious and he couldn't stop smiling.
"Of course he's gonna go to wars, Lisa!" Cynthia piped up, attempting to splash through the puddle before their father snagged her back ("Now, come on now. Your momma will be upset if you get that dress wet," he warned her).
Elisa looked up at Krushem, her gaze wide in innocent awe. "But what if you die, Krew-shame? I don't want you to die!" At this notion, Elisa started to wail in distress, tears spilling down her little cheeks.
Krushem scooped her up in his arms and tried to soothe her, his voice gentle; "I'm not gonna die. Don't you worry. Besides, Altazzara hasn't had a war with anyone in a long long while. Nothing is gonna happen to me or you or Cynth or Mama or Papa, okay? Im right here, Elisa."
Cheered up, Elisa giggled and threw her arms around Krushem's neck. Their parents drew closer, and the family walked close together, the Altazzara castle receding further and further behind them.
There was no darkness anymore.
It was just a feeling of warmth and love and pure happiness Krushem felt in his heart as he walked alongside his family.
But then he remembered all that would transpire. He recalled all the pain that would follow soon enough, and he remembered Aric and all Aric had done.
He was dreaming. This wasn't real, but it once had been. But what once was was now gone. Krushem couldn't ever hope to get that back.
He'd just graduated from Altazania Academy and after the graduating ceremony, him and his family had walked home before having a big feast. It'd been a great day. It'd been a day that Krushem wanted to forget, along with all the other memories of his departed family. It was no good remembering his family. Besides, It was weak of him to remember them and feel.
He didn't want to hold on afterwards. He didn't want to hold on now and yet he found himself taking in every inch of his family's faces, imprinting them into his mind.
But they were gone. He would never get them back, no matter how hard he tried to.
But still—Krushem could feel his emotions betraying him as the barrier holding back all his sorrow began to splinter and crack, and he sought the darkness once more. These blue skies...this earth...it wasn't real. Krushem didn't belong here. Not now.
So he broke free from the clutches of the dead he'd hoped to lay to rest, running from the ghost of a memory he'd rather forget in search of the darkness he longed for above all else.
But then he startled awake as if it hadn't been just an old memory but a dream, and the first thing he realized when he came to was how heavy his head felt. He struggled to raise his arm, but both his arms were throbbing in pain, and he couldn't lift them off the bed.
He saw the bandages wrapped around both his wrists, and he felt a sense of trepidation as if him having been mysteriously healed was something he'd rather have had not occur.
His bleary gaze shifted about, taking in his surroundings. He was still in the room he'd found himself in except he was now in bed. A Broken beer bottle rested on the floor, glass littered about, and there was a puddle of blood staining the wood.
The room was dark. The only light emitted was from a lit candle resting on the end table by the bed. Krushem watched the flame flickering, the candlelight casting long shadows in the corner of the room.
For a moment, Krsuhem was confused. He had no idea how he got into bed, let alone who saved him. But then his gaze landed on the other side of the bed where a figure sat. Their back was turned towards Krushem, making it impossible for Krushem to see their face.
But the black curls cascading down the figure's dark clad back was a dead giveaway as to who it was, and then the figure craned their head around, giving Krushem the first good look at their side profile.
The young woman's skin was pale in the candlelit room and her gaze found his as she twisted her body around to face him.
Krushem didn't know what to say as he met her ruby gaze, and she didn't seem to know what to say either as she stared back at him, the both of them seemingly lost in their own mingled thoughts.
Krushem's gaze dropped back down to his wrists bandaged tight, and he looked back at Elaine and he knew right then and there that for some reason or another, she had saved him. He would've bled out if she hadn't healed him as she did, but why?
Why would the witch who had cursed him suddenly decide to save him?
Krushem opened his mouth and at first nothing came out save for a pained gasp as a stinging pain shot up his arms. Then, he recovered enough to utter a phrase, his voice strangled; "You sa—saved me."
Elaine's shoulders heaved as she sighed, a heavy sigh that spoke volumes to Krushem. There was only around four inches of space between them, but that space felt far greater somehow.
"You didn't get the job done well enough if I managed to save you," Elaine told him, her gaze falling upon a loose string. She started to pull at it and it was such an odd thing to witness from the witch that Krushem found himself shaking his head.
"You sh—should've let me die," Krushem said flat out, meaning every word. He recalled the weight he'd felt the moment before he slit his wrists and how that weight had lifted the moment he started to bleed out on the floor.
He'd been sure. He'd been ready. It'd been over for him. He wanted it to be over. He had nothing left. He couldn't bring himself to bear it anymore.
And yet, here he lay, saved by his greatest enemy.
"I wanted to watch you suffer some more, I suppose. I'm not done yet," Elaine responded. But her tone wasn't its usual self, it was sorrowful somehow as if she was struggling to remain composed. "You don't understand, Krushem. You don't just get to die like that. You can't."
Krushem was now more confused than ever. He was sure his expression conveyed his puzzlement cause Elaine jerked her head away and tore the string free from the bedspread before flicking it away.
For the first time, Krushem saw the palms of her hands were stained with blood and he realized it was his blood that stained her hands. He tried, but he couldn't imagine her saving him.
"You don't control me, Elaine," Krushem fired back, but his voice broke and his arms continued to throb in pain, reminding him of how weak he'd become. He was supposed to be strong, but he was just as weak as he'd ever been. "You—you don't get to dictate m—my fate! I dictate my ow—own damn fate. If I—I wan—wanna d—die, just let me die!"
Elaine sprung from the bed and Krushem figured she'd just leave as she always did, but then she reached out and Krushem didn't have the strength to stop her before she gripped his shirt and pulled him close, her gaze pooling with emotion.
"You still don't get it!" She exploded, fisting the fabric of his shirt between her fingers as she thrust her face into his. Her grip was strong, and her teeth were gnashed. She would look every inch a angry witch if it wasn't for the tears glistening in her eyes. "Break the damn curse! That's all you have to do! But instead you've done what everybody else did and let it consume you. This was your own making, and you could've stopped it. You could've and yet you choose the darkness. You choose poison and hate. You chose him."
Krushem was too stunned to speak. His arms pressed against the bed, sending stabbing waves of pain through him. Elaine's black curls fanned her face, and the black locks tickled Krushem's face. He could hear her shaking breaths, ragged and fast, and he could smell her. She smelt like dust, like flowers gone to rot but somehow it wasn't an unpleasant smell.
But most of all, Krushem could hear her heartbeat. It pounded in her chest, echoing in his ears like a song he couldn't ignore.
A single tear slipped down Elaine's cheek, and Krushem would've reached out and wiped it away with his finger if only his arms didn't feel so damn heavy.
"I—" Krushem began, but his throat suddenly constricted. His airways seemed to close in and as he struggled to breathe, he felt bile rise up his throat.
Elaine seemed to realize what was about to happen because suddenly she had rolled him onto his side, sending a flare of pain through his arm before he emptied the contents of his stomach over the side of the bed. The acidic taste of the bile made Krushem's throat burn in an unpleasant manner, and he coughed wretchedly, struggling to clear his lungs.
Krushem's throat was burning and he felt as if his whole body was on fire, yet he was trembling as if he was cold. He hung his head over the side of the bed, barely able to wipe the vomit off his mouth with the back of his hand, beyond the point of caring how gross he obviously looked with Elaine looming close beside him.
Krushem could feel his heartbeat thumping against his rib cage. His body had never felt so weak, so useless, and he could feel himself slipping back into that darkness he'd longed for.
But then a pair of hands shook him roughly, and he was snapped back to reality to find Elaine sitting beside him, her fingers curled into his shoulder, holding onto him as if her life depended on it.
"Ge—get the fu—fuck off m—me," Krushem grumbled, trying to raise his arms, but he had no strength. He felt his eyelids droop once more, but Elaine shook him again, forcing him back awake.
Krushem fixed his unfocused gaze upon Elaine and he felt a shock of rage burn inside him; "Just go aw—away! Go! I—I don't ne—need you! I...I don't no...need noth—nothing. Le—leave."
But Elaine was undeterred by Krushem's hostility. She reached out and placed a hand upon his forehead. Her hand was warm against his skin, and for a moment Krushem found comfort in her touch before he reminded himself he hated Elaine.
"You need to stay conscious," Elaine told him. She removed her hand from his forehead and reached for something beside the bed, and in her hands she held a cup. She raised it to Krushem's lips, but Krushem kept his mouth closed.
"Drink it," Elaine insisted, before she took it upon herself to press the rim of the cup against his mouth. His lips parted and she helped him to tip his head back.
A cool liquid touched his tongue and he realized it was water. The water tasted herby and he wondered for a brief moment if she had put something in it. Poison perhaps? He wouldn't put it past her. She seemed like the kind of person who'd poison him. But then again, why save him and bandage him up if she was just gonna poison him now?
As if Elaine knew what he was thinking, she shook her head; "I just put some medicinal herbs in it that'll help you to regain your strength."
Krushem was still suspicious, however. How could he not be when Elaine and him had never seen eye to eye for as long as they'd known each other?
"I should not blame you for what you've gone through. To choose him, to choose all this hate," Elaine began, sighing heavily, "it was not on you. It was on this damn curse. Nobody in your family ever broke the Servetes Curse—not one of them—or else you wouldn't be in this predicament now. I do—don't know why I'd expect you to be so different. Maybe...maybe because you know what it feels like to—"
In Krushem's blurry vision, he swore he glimpsed tears glistening in Elaine's eyes again, but he couldn't be for sure.
"T—to lose your entire family. To lo—lose everyone you cared about I—in such a tragic way," Elaine finished, her voice thick with emotion. "You know that feeling. No one else does."
Krushem shouldn't have cared about anything Elaine was saying to him. He shouldn't have cared about the despair in Elaine's voice or the look of sorrow upon her face, and yet something inside him did care. Something inside him broke and it was suddenly as if the walls he'd put up around his guarded heart were crumbling, threatening to fall.
Krushem twisted his eyes closed, struggling to clear his heart, struggling to not think about all that he'd longed to forget. But when he closed his eyes, he was brought back to that memory of him and his parents and his little sisters walking back home after his ceremonious graduation from Altazzara Academy. He glimpsed his mother and father's faces, expressions filled with the utmost pride and Elisa and Cynthia's joyful smiles.
And then he was brought back to that fateful day he'd arrived back to Altazzara. The streets had been empty, the houses void of life. His house had been silent, and the only sound that broke that silence was Krushem's own wailing sobs as he held his sisters' bodies close and cradled them in his arms, wishing that it was all some terrible nightmare.
Krushem opened his eyes and the weight in his heart was heavy enough to crush it. It was all too much to bear. He couldn't bear that weight. He had nothing left! He deserved to die. He needed to—
With a strangled wail, Krushem brought his knee up into Elaine's stomach, and Elaine dropped the cup in shock. She stumbled backwards and Krushem took that opportunity to grab ahold of his wrist, digging his fingers into his arm, struggling to tear his bandages off.
"Stop! Stop it!" Elaine's voice was full of panic and before Krushem could manage to rip his bandage off and open his wrist back up, Elaine was upon him, holding him down. He thrashed beneath her, kicking his legs and trying to throw her off of him, but he wasn't as strong as he once was, and she overpowered him easily, pinning his wrists to his sides.
Krushem continued to thrash, struggling in vain to get Elaine off of him. But just shoving Elaine off of him and thrashing so much, he'd used up all his strength, and he felt his whole body ache in pain. There was nothing he could do but slacken against the mattress and accept his fate.
Elaine was straddling him still, her hands upon his and seeing that he'd calmed down enough to not be anymore danger to himself, she loosened his grip upon his hands but still stayed in that position as if she feared he would freak out again at any moment.
"Shh, it's okay...it's okay," Elaine murmured, running her fingers through his matted hair. It was only until Krushem felt his cheeks moisten that he realized he was crying.
Krushem willed himself to stay strong, but now that the tears had come, there was no stopping them. A choked sob ripped from his throat, and he turned his face away from Elaine's, unable to look at her any longer.
Krushem didn't understand. He actually believed he may as well just be dreaming again. That or else he was in hell now. Those would be the only explanations he would believe in to actually wrap his head around the concept that Elaine had saved him not once, but twice now.
If there was anyone who hated Krushem more than anything, it was Elaine. So what was thi—this whole thing; her brushing his hair off his clammy forehead and her sweet breath tickling the side of his face.
If Krushem closed his eyes, he could smell those damn flowers again, glimpse Lilith's face and when his jaws parted, he swore the metallic taste of blood touched his tongue. He found himself slipping deeper into that dream, not caring about anything else.
"Stay awake, Krushem," Elaine's alluring voice pulled him out of his reverie, and he found the pillow beneath his cheek was wet with his own tears.
Elaine's weight was still pinning him down. But she wasn't heavy. It was the kind of comforting weight like a blanket covering his body as odd as that was. She had picked up the fallen cup and must've filled it back up with that herbal water.
Krushem didn't protest this time when Elaine brought the cup up to his face. He drank it down, wishing it was stronger. This herbal water was no substitute for what he usually drank, but he doubted Elaine would just let him have a bottle of alcohol—not when she seemed so dead set on keeping him alive.
"I know we—we've had our differences," Elaine began, tone faltering. Her fingers wrapped around the cup tightened as she met Krushem's eyes. "I wanted to hate you. I did hate you...But I—I saw you. Really saw you and I look at you and I see me. I s—see someone who has lost everything and is trying so hard to move on but just can't."
Krushem couldn't help but to resonate with those words. Yet, everything instead of him screamed at him to protest, to argue against what she was saying. It couldn't be true. They were nothing alike. She was a witch. He was...nobody, really. There was no damn reason for her to save him like this! How dare she? How dare she save him and take away his choice? How dare she compare him to her as if they could be allies—friends even!
"We—we're monsters," he insisted, his voice still as strangled as it had been when he'd first awoken from the brink of death. "We're enemies. You said that. So do—don't you da—dare give me so—some bullshit ex—excuse now. You don't kn—know me, El—Elaine. So Fu—fuck off."
Krushem wasn't lost. He wasn't trying to move on. He'd already had. He'd been fine to drink alcohol and go on as he had been until Kei got away, until Elaine had continued to leave him without answers...Until a figment of Aric himself had told Krushem that he was a nobody and could never love him, confirming to Krushem his worst fears.
Instead of backing off or leaving as she always did, Elaine sighed heavily and for a long while, she was quiet as if she was at a loss for words. But then she gently set the cup down on the end table beside the bed, right next to the flickering candle.
In the darkness, Krushem watched Elaine's pale hands disappear into her black cloak before she retracted her hands. Her fingers inched towards Krushem's face and Krushem opened his mouth to retort, but then her fingertips touched his forehead.
This time, she wasn't wiping the sweat off his forehead. This time, she pressed her fingertips into his forehead and an electrical jolt thrummed through Krushem's skull.
Before he could speak and ask what she was doing, his mind spun and then he suddenly fell into another memory of his.
Instead of his family being there, he was alone. His armor glinted in the sunlight and his metal tipped boots left bootprints in the dirt as he drew towards a particularly tall tower. There was a pedestal erected outside the door of the tower where a bundle of parchment paper sat atop of.
Krushem remembered this particular nightmare.
He'd been signing off on his daily report outside the Guards' Tower when Elaine had snuck up upon him. Lightning had crashed down from the sky as Elaine foretold Krushem's fate; "From this day forth, you, Usmere, shall never forget thou blood is tainted. Thou heart will be forever kept, never to taste freedom. Thou shall be broken, never to be healed until thou purpose is found..."
Ever since hearing those words, Krushem had no inkling what they meant. He'd feared those words just as he feared Elaine, and yet he hadn't dwelled on said foretelling. He'd just disregarded those words and forgotten all about breaking the curse after leaving the School for Boys.
All those times Elaine had brought up the curse or goaded him, he'd insisted her curse hadn't caught up to him yet. He wholeheartedly believed he'd avoided her curse all this time, determined to believe that he hadn't gone mad or anything of that sort.
But suddenly, being brought back to his reality, Krushem came to a shocking epiphany. A startling realization that his drunken mind could've never brought forth.
His blood, as Elaine had said, was tainted. To her, it was. He was a Servetes and the Servetes had apparently massacred her whole family. And his heart...his heart had been guarded all this time since leaving the School for Boys and he'd refused to acknowledge his feelings, believing in the mindset that feelings were weak. And to be broken...
Krushem's gaze dropped to his arms, staring at his bloodied bandages, and he felt a sinking feeling in his chest.
"I told you your fate, and you did not heed my warnings. The raven swallowed you whole—Aric destroyed you and you let him," Elaine's voice broke the silence, and her fingertips left his forehead.
Krushem could feel himself trembling again, sweat beading on his forehead. Before he could stop himself, he angled his head back over the side of the bed before releasing another torrent of vomit that splattered against the wooden floor.
His mind was spinning, his head throbbing in a way it'd never throbbed before. But instead of worrying about himself and willing himself to stay strong, his mind turned to Aric.
Had Aric truly destroyed him? It couldn't be true, could it?
Krushem had chosen to follow Aric. He'd been loyal to him. He'd tortured for him. Had all of that been for no reason other than fate? Was it not Krushem's own actions, but the stupid curse that had made him love such a monster?
To Elaine, it surely was the case that Aric had destroyed him. How could Krushem have been so blind to not realize it?
Spitting onto the hardwood floor to get the vile taste of vomit out of his mouth, Krushem wiped the drool off his mouth by rubbing his face against the pillow.
"Yo—you could've told me soon—sooner," Krushem rasped, his throat burning. "I—if you were gon—gonna save me, the—then why allow a—all of that—"
He broke off, coughing wretchedly again before Elaine gave him more of that herbal water, soothing his sore throat.
"I wasn't planning to save you or anything of the sort," Elaine informed him as she helped him drink. "I already told you...it—it just happened. I know you'd rather I let you die, but I can't stand losing anyone else. I—I couldn't watch you lose yourself like this."
Krushem didn't know what to say. His gaze shifted away from Elaine to the spot on the floor where he'd been on the brink of death before he'd been saved. The puddle of blood seemed to glisten in the shadowy room but the edges of the puddle were drying over. He wondered how much time it would take for the puddle to dry completely.
Gaze roaming further, Krushem saw the pieces of glass scattered on the floor from what appeared to be a broken beer bottle. He could scarcely recall his heart aching at the sight of that broken glass and not knowing why.
Now seeing it, something in his sober mind clicked into place.
When he'd gone back to Altazzara—back home to that nightmare—there had not only been his family's bodies laying on the bloodied ground, but also pieces of broken glass. Krushem's boots had crushed the pieces of glass as he'd made his way to his deceased family. He could just vividly remember the sound of it; a sickening crunch sound. He could feel it too; the fragile pieces of glass crunching beneath his boots.
Krushem quickly looked away from the scene, struggling to push the memory out of his mind, but the memory stubbornly latched on, refusing to let go of him.
"Yo—you shouldn't ha—have come he—here," Krushem said, trying to sound angry but failing miserably. Instead, his tone was drained, bearing his tiredness.
He felt the darkness rise back up, tugging him under. All he wanted to do was sleep. Sleep forever and not wake up. He'd be dead already that way and to him, to be dead was best.
His eyelids drooped and his senses dulled. It was only the sound of Elaine setting the cup down and a sudden weight against his chest that made him open one of his eyes to find the witch's resting head on his torso.
For the first time, he was too damn tired to snap at her, and somehow, her weight was a comfort to him. He could hear her heartbeat, steady and calm, and with no more words said, he let the darkness carry him away.
Soon, the sound of Elaine's steady heartbeat lulled Krushem asleep and he drifted into the void of darkness.
This time, Elaine didn't awaken him.
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Heyyyy, guys.
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What do you guys think of Elaine now that she's seemed to have turned over a new leaf?
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Thanks for reading!
—Alexis Peters ❤️