CHAPTER 17
"Love will have its sacrifices. No sacrifice without blood." ~ J. Sheridan Le Fanu, "Carmilla"
She was crying; something had gone wrong, she was sure. She had waited all night, but he had not come.
The sky was tinged with pink and red as the sun broke across the horizon. The usually calm and collected Boro looked horrified at the sight of his best friend; he had been pacing all night, anxious with worry, waiting for her to return home, and now she was here, looking like a scene out of a horror movie.
Hazel was covered in blood.
"What happened, Hazel? Are you hurt? Whose blood is that?" Boro asked with mounting dread.
She couldn't bring herself to look at him, burying her face in her hands as she sobbed.
She was numb, scared, and in shock.
"Please tell me what happened. I'm about to lose my mind here." His heart was hammering in his throat.
"I don't know what happened. But he didn't show up. I waited and waited until... until..." her voice broke as she cried.
"Until what?" Boro asked, agitated.
"A guy came. He tried t...to..."
"Hazel what?"
He was dreading the answer, stealing himself from what he was about to hear.
"He tried to..." but she couldn't bring herself to say it, so she turned her back towards him as her shoulders shook.
Boro took a step towards her and put a tentative hand on her shoulder, feeling relieved when she didn't shrug it away.
"Please, Hazel, tell me what happened," he pleaded.
"He tried to...he touched me..." she bawled suddenly with a howl.
Boro's hand stiffened and grew cold.
"That son of a bitch!!!" he snarled. "I'll kill that piece of shit!"
"No, it wasn't him; it wasn't Ethan."
Turning away, she hastily wiped away the tears, her eyes swollen and red from crying.
Drawing in deep, steadying breaths, she fought to regain control of her emotions. Hazel knew that falling apart right now was not an option.
Not yet.
She had to find Ethan.
"It was someone else. I've never seen him before."
She continued, "When Ethan didn't come, I went out searching for him, and that's when this man found me in a crowded alleyway. Something was happening, and people were running..."
She choked with renewed sobs.
"I tried to fight him off, and I screamed for help, but no one stopped to intervene. I think they were scared of him. And... and he was too strong," she said in a whisper.
"Oh God, I feel so dirty." Her voice broke, and her bloodied hands shook.
Boro wrapped his arms around her, his jaw ticking in anger as he rubbed her back.
"I didn't know what to do. He held me down, and..." Hazel shuddered, unable to banish his touch from her skin.
"I stabbed him and portaled back home," she said, her lips turning white as she recounted her ordeal.
"I think I might have killed him. I stabbed him in the femoral artery."
Boro was trying to master his breathing; he didn't want to lose his cool, nor did he want to go hunting for this piece of shit who had dared to touch her.
"Don't worry about that bastard. He got what he deserved."
He exhaled sharply, "Why didn't he come? Ethan, I mean," he asked, making an effort to keep his voice steady.
Hazel's expression clouded with uncertainty as she replied, "I don't know, Boro, but I'm really worried about him."
"You did what you could; please let it go now. I've been telling you since forever that he is bad news." He consoled her softly.
"No! He is not! And I should've done better. I'll go back and..."
"NO!" Boro snarled at her, and she recoiled away from him in shock.
Her eyes widened in terror as she instinctively wrapped her arms around herself, trying to shield herself from his sudden outburst. Boro was taken aback by her fear, never having seen her so visibly shaken.
"No, Hazel, look at the sight of you, and you want to go back?" He said, bringing his voice down a notch, his eyes softening.
"Those people are dangerous. Please listen to me, please. How can you be certain it wasn't Ethan's intention all along to deliver you into the hands of the Dark Army?"
"No," she whispered, horrified. "He would never do that to me."
"Are you sure?" He pressed, his eyebrows shooting up towards his hairline.
Her lips quivered as she grappled with what Boro was implying. Then her eyes hardened with resolve.
"Yes, I'm sure," she said.
It was true that she didn't know a lot about Ethan, but one thing she knew with certainty was that he was a man of honour, and he would sooner face death than betray her to the dark forces.
"I'm heading back to Kaatim, first thing this morning," she declared.
"I said no, Hazel. Can you, for once in your life, listen to me?"
She could feel the anger flooding his eyes again, and she flinched before snapping at him.
"What if the roles were reversed? Would you abandon me?"
He looked into her eyes, trying to hide years of longing, feeling torn.
"It's not the same thing," he snapped.
"How is it any different?" she seethed.
Boro could see the rebellious determination clouding her features, and he knew whatever he said now would fall on deaf ears.
"Right. I'll let you go on one condition: I will come with you." Before she could protest, Boro added, "It's either that or I'm telling Mother everything."
Hazel felt drained. She didn't have the energy to argue with him anymore.
"You wouldn't," she said, trembling.
"Don't test me, Hazel," he said, his expression stern as he turned away from her. There was no trace of a smile on his lips.
"Come back home and shower before Mother wakes to find you in this state," he said as he strode towards the house in the garden, his voice fading behind him.
"We will go find Ethan once you're reasonably coherent."
Hazel struggled to open her eyes; her head throbbed with a terrible headache, and she felt too weary to even sit up in bed. She dreaded thinking about the new memory that had slipped through the barrier.
She feared it would only bring her more sadness and suffering. There was nothing remotely happy in the furthermost recesses of her mind. Now she was sure her past held nothing but pain, her present was nothing but pain, and her future, from what she could predict, held nothing but more pain.
Ethan...
The dream had been about him. She was a teenager when she last saw him. They had lost contact after that day.
She had gone to meet him, and he hadn't shown up. In the dream, she was crying a lot, even though she wasn't sure why. Her heart felt like something important and terrible had happened that night, something she didn't want to remember.
Someone had tried to corner her, and she had fought her way back home. Hazel had a feeling she knew who that person might be. Trying not to get more traumatised than she already was, she pushed the memory back into the small boxes she had created in her head to keep herself safe.
She could not understand why she was holding onto her sense of self-preservation. Why not just let it go? Why was she trying so hard to remain in the right state of mind?
She sighed, closing her eyes. Turning onto her side, she grunted as her sore muscles protested against the movement. She cursed the healer to the depths of Alt Dənyə. Hazel wanted to smash her awful face into a wall. This was all her fault.
She briefly glanced at the breakfast growing cold on the table. Bile rose in her throat at the sight of food, and she slept again, feeling sick.
It was eleven in the morning when she woke up. She did not want to ponder Məhv Edən's imminent arrival later that evening.
When she saw him yesterday, he had protaled back home from the Pits to stop her from slicing her arm open. She wondered if he was still getting himself tortured. She hoped that he was.
Hazel had believed that there was no man she hated more than the Kral, but Məhv Edən had beaten him to the number one spot. She was sure he was the one who had ravaged her people and destroyed her home when the Dark Army had attacked Dragonite.
Her hand flew to her left wrist, and she scratched at the thin skin. Last night, she felt a soft heart beating somewhere near her radial artery, just under the skin on the thumb side of the wrist.
Hazel had wondered if she was hallucinating, but now the ticking was growing persistent, a steady pulse to accompany her own. Curious, she pressed her fingertips against it, comparing its calm beat to her own faster, more frantic pulse.
Suddenly she remembered a small silver tattoo of a strange constellation inked on Məhv Edən's wrist. Was it on his left wrist or the right one? She couldn't quite recall.
She wondered if it was just a weird coincidence or if it meant something more significant.
She rolled her eyes as she imagined Məhv Edən tattooing her name on himself. The thought was so ridiculous that she snorted with amusement.
He'd rather chop me into tiny pieces.
Məhv Edən's seed was still congealed on her thighs and private parts from the events of last afternoon, but Hazel had no energy to get out of bed and clean herself. She'd do it later. Right now, she just wanted to drink a vial of Serenity Draught and go back to sleep.
Yet she realised no one would come to ease her suffering. With a heavy sigh, she pushed the blanket aside and struggled to stand on her feet.
The coolness of the floor, acting as a buffer against her overheated skin, felt good. Goosebumps rose on her arms as she staggered, feeling dizzy. She pressed the heels of her hands in her eyes to stop the room from spinning. Perhaps a shower would do her good.
She entered the bathroom, feeling the weight of the day bearing down on her. She moved slowly to the bathtub, turning on the tap to fill it with cold water.
Stepping in, she shivered from the contrast of the chilly water against her warm skin. When she felt reasonably calm, she started scrubbing her thighs. She couldn't understand the purpose of washing him off herself when he would come back and defile her all over again and again and again.
Five more days...
She put her head between her knees, trying to master her hysteria. The number of days she would have to endure him left her with a sense of terror.
She knew her heart was broken into tiny pieces, some so small that she would never be able to mend herself back together.
She clamped a hand over her mouth, feeling nauseous again. She had no appetite for food, but she knew she had to eat to keep her strength.
Hazel forced herself out of the bathroom, grabbing a clean towel off the rack. She wrapped herself snuggly in it as she walked to the table and picked up the bowl of cold, lumpy porridge, forcing herself to take a few bites.
She stared out of the window as she ate, trying not to taste her food in case she threw it up. The rosebushes outside looked stunning, and she was surprised that she could still find beauty in the world even though she felt empty inside.
She thought she would have lost all warmth by now, but it comforted her to know that her heart still felt a connection to nature, even if it was cold.
There was an icy numbness that she hadn't been able to shake away from her extremities since the day her body had betrayed her. It was as if something had taken hold of her-some kind of dread that she couldn't put into words or wrap her head around.
She finished her breakfast in ominous silence, pleased to have eaten a full meal without vomiting. And she felt better now that her stomach was full.
Hazel took out a clean pair of skirt and tunic, wearing them with a sigh. She had started hating the colour red. But it was not the color's fault that it was being used to hold her captive.
She had no desire to go out for a walk, so she curled up in her bed and closed her eyes. After an hour, she felt ravenous, craving hot, greasy food instead of the usual organic, healthy meals.
Well, this is new.
She did not know why she was feeling so hungry. During her first month in the mansion, she had been eating to regain her strength and physique.
In the month after that, she had been forced to eat due to the compulsions. It did not matter if she was hungry or not. She was made to shovel food into her system so that she wouldn't starve herself to death.
But now she felt so hungry that her stomach growled. When lunch appeared on the table, she rushed to grab her plate. But as she reached for it, memories flooded back of her time in the kənara, chained and hungry to the point of starvation.
Tears filled her eyes, and suddenly, she felt sick to her stomach, her hunger disappearing as quickly as it had appeared.
Oh no, this is so bad.
She hurried to the bathroom as she felt her stomach lurch. Bending over the toilet, she got violently ill and puked her guts out.
She stood up unsteadily before flushing away the mess and splashed cold water on her face as she peered at her reflection in the mirror above the sink.
Her complexion was pale, her eyes wide with discomfort, and her skin felt clammy. She looked sick. Hazel wondered if the Fertility Enhancer was causing these symptoms.
Glancing down at her breasts, she noticed they were still swollen, with tiny veins visible beneath her taut skin. Even a gentle touch made her nipples ache. Grimacing at the discomfort and heaviness in her chest, she trudged back to bed, shaking her head in frustration.
It was 5: 30 in the evening, and Məhv Edən had not appeared in her room. Hazel imagined him screaming in the depths of the Pits, getting whipped.
She asked herself why she had been feeling so guilty and worried about his well-being since he had saved her from the Kral. He deserved more than what was happening to him. He deserved the worst.
He killed Ethan.
His crimes against humanity are enough to warrant a slow, painful death.
But he saved me.
There was no denying it anymore. Everything had changed. The potion had played its part, but Hazel couldn't ignore other factors that were at play. He had saved her from being tortured by the Kral and from getting raped by Raib bin Wasib. This had caused her perception of Məhv Edən to shift.
His unexpected acts of kindness left a mark on her soul. His healing touch, his reluctance when he forced himself upon her-these gestures spoke volumes, even if he claimed they were driven solely by the interest of his master.
Then the choker also added another layer to the complex web of emotions that were confusing her. Designed to breed compliance and dependency, it blurred the lines between consent and coercion, making it harder for Hazel to resist Məhv Edən and easier for her to adapt to her captor and her life at the mansion.
Survival instincts kicked in along with the compulsions, reshaping her psyche to endure the unbearable acts being done to her.
Məhv Edən, with his reluctant cruelty and occasional compassion, became a paradox to Hazel-a reminder of her humanity in a world that treated her as less than human.
When he was around, she found a glimmer of recognition and a semblance of understanding. It was a dramatic contrast to the apathy and isolation that she had endured during the previous year and a half in Alt Dənyə.
In her distorted world, Məhv Edən was the only one who viewed her as more than simply a vessel-a revelation that both reassured and troubled her.
Suddenly there was a swish of robes as Məhv Edən portaled into her room. She raised her arms over her eyes, disregarding him.
She heard a quiet sigh as his footsteps approached the bed. Hazel tensed as he got closer.
"You may attempt to make things simpler on yourself for once." He said it in a matter-of-fact voice.
She drew her arms away, opened her eyes, and grinded her teeth. Her nostrils flared in anger as she stared at his mask.
"What? You are not going to 'make love' to me, Məhv Edən?"
He scoffed at her, as if unable to believe what he was hearing. He cocked his head to the side, contemplating her before making up his mind.
"The hard way, then," he said, sitting near her on the bed as she tried to edge away.
"Stay still!" He invoked the command, and she felt her body grow rigid as a board.
He leaned over her face, staring into her eyes as he broke into her memories. Hazel had forgotten about the regular memory checks, and one had been due for weeks now.
She watched anxiously as he inspected each memory, being careful not to disturb the Sacred Barrier.
A cold dread that was not her own spread through her brain as he scrutinised the latest dream she had last night.
His breathing became heavy, and she felt as if an ice pick were stabbing into her skull because of the intensity of his anger.
She cried out in pain, and he withdrew from her mind before she could have a seizure. The migraine returned with full force as she struggled to keep her eyes from rolling in her head.
"When was that?" He demanded, his voice cold with barely controlled rage.
"I don't know... This memory just resurfaced last night," she replied, grimacing in pain as she pressed her hands tightly against her throbbing temples, screwing her eyes shut.
"Who was the man?" His voice was tremulous with suppressed fury as he spoke through his teeth.
She furrowed her brow in confusion. Why was he so interested? Letting out an exasperated sigh, she watched as he balled his hands into fists, his wand emitting golden sparks that scorched the hardwood floor, leaving behind dark burn marks.
"What?" She snapped, feeling frustrated by his intensity.
"Tell me who it was," he demanded.
"I already said I don't know. I can't remember his face," she replied, a sense of unease gnawing at her, she did not want to level allegations she couldn't prove.
He was breathing audibly through his mouth, trying to calm the anger that was crashing against him in waves.
Hazel felt scared of him; his aura had somewhat grown darker, more threatening, and murderous since he had entered the room.
He turned his back to her, but she could see his shoulder trembling with the effort to not blast the entire mansion to smithereens.
His magic was seeping out of him, blurring his edges as he struggled to control himself.
She had never seen him so out of sorts since she had come to the mansion.
"Calm down, please," she said with hesitation.
He did not look at her as he opened a portal and vanished inside it. Hazel couldn't help but notice that even his portal had a strange, murderous red tint mixed with the usual golden hue. She felt worried for him as she ate her dinner in silence.
Her hands shook with the effort to calm her nerves. It was late at night when he reappeared in her room. She was relieved to see him visibly calmer. But his aura was even darker than before. She wondered if he had come back home from work. She winced, knowing he could hear her thoughts.
"Lie down."
She froze before hunching her shoulders in defeat, reluctantly tearing herself away from the window and lying still on the bed.
He straddled her, performing the act with methodical precision, avoiding eye contact as he sensed her trembling beneath him. After he finished, he vanished without a second glance.
Following the healer's instructions, she closed her legs tightly, aiming to preserve the seed. A whirlwind of thoughts raced through Hazel's mind like a kaleidoscope, but she couldn't make sense of them as she drifted into a fitful sleep.
She had the same dream again, word for word, just like the previous night. It was unprecedented, and no matter how hard she tried to push it aside, the dream persisted in her mind when she woke up the next morning.
Hazel wondered why Ethan hadn't shown up. Why had it been so crucial for them to meet in the dead of night, risking everything?
She knew the Qaranliq Empire was a treacherous place, but something had been so urgent that she had risked it all to meet him. Yet he had abandoned her for someone or something else. The thought angered her. Someone or something more important than her?
She shook her head, trying to dismiss such assumptions. What did it matter now that he hadn't kept his promise? She was no longer the same person, and he was gone, likely buried under the rubble of his destroyed home.
But why had Məhv Edən killed him? Was it simply because of his alliance with Dragonite? The questions swirled in her head, causing it to pound with uncertainty.
She felt more sick than yesterday.
She had no energy to walk or stand up, and she wished someone would spoon-feed her the meals; her body was hurting so much.
Hazel was utterly drained, as if she had endured a grueling physical trial like attempting to scale a mountain. All she yearned for was to drift off to sleep and find some respite.
Once more, she was roused by the sound of Məhv Edən reappearing in her room, and she let out a groan of despair.
Please not again...
"What's wrong?" He asked.
"I don't feel good. I think I have a fever," she croaked, her throat feeling raw and scratchy.
"Do you want a healing potion?" he offered.
She considered it for a moment. "Yes, please," she replied weakly.
With a flick of his wand, he produced a vial and handed it to her.
Struggling to raise her arm, she found her limbs heavy like boulders. She groaned again, feeling utterly helpless. Gently, he lifted her head and helped her drink the potion, sip by sip, until the vial was empty.
"Sleep. I'll come back later," he assured her.
"Where is Murata?" she inquired, a hint of annoyance in her voice.
"Away." He said in a clipped tone.
She scowled before closing her eyes. She wanted to say something to him in response, but Məhv Edən's outline blurred, and she was in deep sleep.
When she woke up, she was shivering slightly as she pulled the blanket off herself. It was 9:25 in the evening and after having slept through the entire day, Hazel felt well enough to make her way to the bathroom.
The warm water enveloped her as she soaked in the bath, revelling in the newfound energy coursing through her body. The potion had truly worked wonders.
Once dressed, she savoured each bite of her dinner, mindful of any potential nausea. She was strangely calm after the tumultuous last three days. Maybe it was because her fertile week was coming to a close. She felt the corner of her lips quirk up in a smile at the thought.
After finishing her meal, she paced around her room, her eyes fixed on the clock. Məhv Edən seemed preoccupied elsewhere, missing their usual evening appointments and only visiting her late at night.
She grunted in frustration and climbed back into bed, sinking into the covers. Thoughts swirled in her mind as she wondered what her life would've been like if Ethan had shown up that night.
Would they have ended up together? She was certain they would've been happy. He had a way of making her smile.
Tears welled up in her eyes as she imagined his brilliant green eyes.
A faint echo of a long-forgotten memory resonated in her ears.
"I'd recognise you anywhere, even in a crowd of millions."
He smiled, "Is that right? How come?"
"Your eyes. They're the most striking shade of green, impossible to miss."
She would recognise him anywhere...
If only she could see him one more time before she faded away entirely. If only she could embrace him tightly and express how deeply she longed for him.
She had squandered so many chances when they were together, and now...
Now she would never lay eyes on him again, never gaze into those emerald eyes that made her heart race. She would never blush again due to his intense stare or see his lopsided smile.
They had been so innocent, so untainted.
What had happened to them?
Why did this happen to them?
Məhv Edən appeared next to the bed as Hazel started. She had become so engrossed in her thoughts about Ethan that it had slipped her mind that her meeting with Məhv Edən was due.
The foreign pulse on her arm was suddenly racing as she stared at Məhv Edən's dreadful mask. She ignored the strange heartbeat, and silently pushed herself near the middle of the bed and pulled up her skirt. She closed her eyes, curled her fists into balls at her sides and closed her jaws tightly.
The mattress shifted under his weight as he climbed onto it with hesitation. She could feel his reluctance; he did not want to do this again.
His body was cold as he mounted her and he smelled faintly of blood, ocean, sweat and leather to accompany his natural musky scent.
She felt him shake when he pushed inside her. Numbness enveloped her, making it easier to detach from the experience this time. In her mind, she drifted away to a peaceful scene.
She imagined herself, her mother, Ethan, and Boro, all gathered in the castle gardens, sharing a lemon meringue pie on a warm, sunny day. She marvelled at the peace it would've brought to her heart.
Məhv Edən finished quickly and vanished before she had time to unfreeze herself.
She realised she had been holding her breath, and her back was rigid as a plank. She relaxed her posture and exhaled loudly.
Suddenly, a twisting pain gripped her lower abdomen, causing her to double over. A cold sweat erupted across her entire body as she cried out in agony. Nausea washed over her once more, making her feel terribly sick.
A sour taste filled her mouth before she vomited loudly on the floor, retching and gagging with each convulsion, struggling to catch her breath.
Her breathing became laboured, coming in harsh rasps, and she could feel a fever burning through her body. It felt as though she were being consumed by flames. She reached up to touch her cheeks, finding them hot and flushed.
Her breasts felt even more swollen than yesterday, straining against her tunic. She glanced down at them, feeling a sense of horror wash over her.
What is happening to me?
She regretted taking the Fertility Enhancer. The withdrawal symptoms were agonising, making her feel terribly sick.
She silently cursed the healer as she heaved once more, her head hanging over the edge of the bed.
Suddenly, two gloved hands gently brushed the hair away from her face as she vomited, letting out a small whimper.
"What's wrong? Did the healing potion not work?" he asked, swiftly cleaning up the mess with a wave of his wand.
Hazel weakly nodded, unable to speak as her mouth felt sour. She choked, her lungs burning.
Məhv Edən gently lowered her head onto the pillow and handed her a glass of water from the table. She hesitated, fearing another wave of nausea.
"Drink it; you'll feel better."
She drank in small gulps before her stomach churned all over again. She groaned with pain as she heaved, puking for the third time on the same spot where Məhv Edən had cleaned the pool of vomit a while ago.
"Hazel, what's wrong? Did you eat something bad?" He asked softly, his voice concerned and urgent. She creased her forehead at his tone. It bothered her that he was worrying about her.
"No," she whimpered weakly. "I think it's the Fertility Enhancer. The side effects are excruciating."
His posture stiffened.
"You think the healer did this to you intentionally?"
"I wouldn't put it past her."
"Do you need another healing potion?"
"No, I don't want to risk it. I think I'll be better in the morning." But she did not believe what she was saying.
She cried in pain as another twisting sensation ripped in her abdomen, making her curl around herself as she wrapped her arms around her torso, trying to ease the knots. She hugged her knees close to her chin, shaking and sweating profusely.
Məhv Edən gazed at her intently for a long minute before raising his wand.
There was a sudden flash of golden light that filled the room; the entire mansion shook violently, and Hazel snapped her eyes open, startled by the sudden burst of energy.
"What...?" She started.
Healer Sibyan was standing in front of her in her nightgown and slippers, her hair dishevelled and her glasses askew, a book teetering on the edge of slipping from her grasp.
She was staring at Məhv Edən with horrified eyes at the suddenness of the protaling.
"Sire what??" She managed as Məhv Edən stepped in front of her, towering over her, causing her to shrink against the wall.
"What did you give her, healer?"
"Sire, I don't know what you mean."
Sibyan quivered, the book falling from her hand with a resounding thud as she struggled to adjust her glasses with shaking fingers.
"The Fertility Enhancer is messing with her health. Are you not aware that her health is a priority for the Kral? If I find you did this to her intentionally, I'll drag you through the depths of Xalja until your very bones rot."
The healer blanched, her face paling at the threat.
"Sire, no, please forgive me... Please allow me to check her," she pleaded, her words rushing in her haste to convey her fear.
She shuffled past Məhv Edən, who blocked her path once more.
"Stay where you are. What do you need?"
She cleared her throat, her chest rising and falling rapidly.
"Sire, I require my bag; it contains all the essentials I need to examine a patient."
Məhv Edən opened another portal without turning away from her and aimed his wand at the swirling mass.
Hazel watched in awed fascination as it glowed brightly, and a black leather bag flew out of it into Məhv Edən's hand. He passed it to her, still glaring at her.
The healer trembled as she retrieved the Diagnostic Sphere from the bag and glanced tentatively at Məhv Edən.
"I need her to place it under her tongue," she mumbled.
Məhv Edən extended an outstretched palm, and Sibyan carefully placed the sphere on it, avoiding any contact with the leather of his glove.
She retreated against the wall, watching with apprehension as Məhv Edən crouched over Hazel and inserted the sphere into her mouth.
Hazel reluctantly lodged it under her tongue, her gaze fixed on the hologram that materialised before them.
Even in her delirious state, she could perceive the changes in the diagnostic image.
The healer stared at it with a mixture of shock and fascination, captivated by the vivid colours dancing across the hologram.
The Sacred Green Barrier glowed brighter than ever, pulsating around her frontal lobe like an impenetrable cage.
Her bloodstream appeared a vibrant red, streaked with flecks of gold.
But the most striking change was in the region surrounding her uterus. The once dark black mass now appeared pale grey, emanating a faint golden light tinged with purple, resembling a radiant sun obscured by storm clouds.
Hazel could hear Sibyan's excited breath as she studied the hologram for several minutes. She traced her hand over the shielded, pulsating mass and ran a few tests repeatedly, just to confirm her findings.
Hazel and Məhv Edən waited in silence as the healer turned towards Hazel.
There was a triumphant gleam in her eyes as she announced, "Congratulations, you're pregnant."
The room swam before her eyes as Hazel spat out the Diagnostic Sphere. Her world spun out of control, her hands trembling with fear.
Sibyan's words rang like a hammer pounding against her skull, drowning out all other sounds.
She struggled to breathe, her throat constricting as if she were being suffocated. Panic clawed at her chest, her heart pounding so fiercely that she could feel it in every fibre of her being.
No...
Her body started convulsing, growing rigid as she felt the beginnings of a seizure taking hold of her. Her vision was turning red around the edges.
No... No... Not his baby. Give me to Raib bin Wasib. Let him torture me and rape me. Let him kill me.
"Calm down! Breathe!" Məhv Edən's voice echoed as if from the depths of a cavern.
"Look at me. Focus. Calm down."
His words grew louder and clearer, soothing her panicked breaths. The choker vibrated and glowed brightly, registering her panic.
"Open your eyes; look at me," he commanded, his tone firm yet gentle.
She obeyed, tears streaming down her cheeks.
"Oh my God! No..."
"It's going to be okay."
"Oh my God," she whimpered, wrapping her arms around her knees.
Məhv Edən had averted a potential seizure using blood magic. She buried her face in her hands, sobbing, while the healer observed the exchange between them with avid fascination.
He placed a firm hand on her shoulder to offer further comfort. Her heart was beating steadily when he stepped away from the bed to glare at the healer.
"Isn't it too early for her to be pregnant? The week isn't over yet."
"Sire, it's a magical pregnancy. We never know how a mage's sperm will respond once inside the reproductive tract of a woman, especially the one with unknown origins," the healer glanced at Hazel shiftily.
Məhv Edən pondered over the information before suddenly closing the distance between himself and the healer.
"As much as you want to claim victory over this news, I shall be the one to break it to the Kral. DO YOU UNDERSTAND?" He thundered over Sibyan, who fell down in shock, nodding her head furiously.
"Yes, yes, sire, yes."
He opened a portal as the healer hastily packed her bag, leaving behind the Diagnostic Sphere. Without a second glance, she stumbled over her gown in her rush to step inside it.
Hazel was rocking back and forth, clutching her skirt.
"Oh my God, what have you done?"
He was standing cold as ice as he regarded her silently, battling with his own rage.
"Your baby... Oh, my God." Her breathing hitched up in her chest as grief tore its way through her heart.
Just when she thought she couldn't bear it any longer, Məhv Edən appeared next to her again, his presence both jarring and strangely comforting.
"Focus on your breathing." He said as Hazel struggled to obey.
"Breathe," he ordered.
Hazel gasped for air, tears streaming down her face in torrents.
She pleaded with the God above to spare her from this nightmare. Her breath felt like a knife twisting in her chest as sobs wracked her body.
His gaze bore into her, and his concern was evident as he offered her a vial of Serenity Draught.
"Drink. I had a feeling this might happen."
Hazel hesitated, her trembling hand reaching for the vial despite herself.
"The baby..."
"The fetus will be fine." He said.
Fetus?
Her lips quivered as she swallowed the potion, feeling its effects wash over her like a tidal wave. Darkness enveloped her, but she continued to cry out in anguish.
"Oh God, oh no..."
Tears stained her pillow, and her body continued to shake with grief. She slowly slipped into oblivion and vaguely registered the blanket being pulled over her body.
There was a faint sound of someone inhaling sharply, as though mortally wounded.
"I'm so sorry, Hazel."
_________________________________________
Author's Note: Some scenes are inspired from true events.