Chapter Twenty-Seven: His Heartbreak
Ella felt herself falling out of her own body and down through a torrent of dark, emotional turmoil.
These shadows were full of pain... pain that had been etched so deep into Xaphile's subconscious that no amount of love could ever heal it. Her eyes flitted around as the sound of disembodied voices floated around her.
Voices full of cruelty and anger.
When she tentatively stretched out a hand to find out where she was, what she got instead was a roaring waterfall of images that were full of life and sound.
Her soul self shivered as they ripped through her head.
Then, a particularly vivid memory swept across her gaze. She closed her eyes for a moment as a strange buzz swept through her skull, but when she opened them again she was looking through someone else's eyes.
Someone very small.
She deduced that she was looking through a young Xaphile's eyes, and she watched, stunned, as the memory played out.
A woman with long black hair tied into a ponytail was standing in front of a stove across a large table, swaying back and forth as she sang a beautiful song in a language that Ella had never before heard, yet somehow understood.
There was no sound, just a recollection of thoughts and auditory memory, but when the woman turned around, casting a loving smile her way, she realized two things that shocked her.
The woman was heavily pregnant, and she was most definitely Xaphile's mother, because his present day self looked almost exactly like her.
They had the same angular face, high cheekbones, cupid's bow lips and the same exotic upturned almond-shaped eyes, but unlike Xaphile, her nose was thin, slightly snubbed, and there was a large gap between it and her lips.
Xaphile's nose was more arched, slightly down-turned, and far longer, since the tip ended closer to the top of his lips. In comparison, it was proud and aquiline.
The woman before her, however, was no less exotic in her own way.
Her skin was a supple shade of tan, and those crinkly crescent-shaped eyes, which gleamed and jumped even in the depths of his memories, were an enchanting shade of chocolate that seemed to smile as much as her lips.
"Xa-Xa," she crooned in a lilting, accented voice, flickering like an old movie. "I know you're hungry, my little huzi. Don't worry, I'm almost finished."
"When will Papka be home? Soon?"
The voice came from the mouth of the one who's eyes Ella now looked out of. It was young, extremely young, the high-pitched voice of an innocent baby.
"Shi, bǎobèi," she giggled, hugging herself with a giddy smile; she swayed back and forth, gently twirling around with the spatula still in her hands. "Your Papka has an early day off from work today! We'll spend it together in town!"
"In town? Is that okay?"
"Hm? Of course it is. Why do you ask?"
"Some people say we're bad."
She paused, looking at him with an expression of surprise.
"Bad?"
"Shi, they say its bad that you and Papka came from different countries."
"They're wrong," his mother said softly, smiling at him. "Ignore them, my sweet. True love transcends every barrier, including those of origin."
"So, its okay that I'm squinty-eyed?"
She looked shocked.
"Who... who said that you were squinty-eyed?"
"My preschool teacher, Mrs. Bowden. She said she didn't like me, that I'm bad, just like you and Papka."
"Did... she say anything else to you?"
"Oh, no, she didn't say it to me," he protested, and emotion flooded through Ella, childlike and innocent, emotion that wasn't hers. "She said it to Mrs. Kellog while I was on a time out for spilling my juice at snack time."
"I see... did she say anything else to Mrs. Kellog?"
"Well, she said my hair was too long for a boy to have, and also that my eyes were far too blue for a ch... ching-ling's kid. But mommy, what's a ching-ling?"
Ella noticed that Xaphile's mother looked extremely upset, but she did a good job hiding it. Setting the spatula down, she walked forward and put a hand on his head, threading her fingers through his shoulder-length hair.
It was pretty long, by all accounts...
"A ching-ling is a derogatory way of insulting someone Chinese," she said softly, shaking her head with a sigh. "Xa-Xa... I'm going to tell you a secret."
"Eh?! A secret?"
Ella felt his pulse come faster with a gout of delight and excitement.
"Yes, a very special secret," his mother murmured. "Your teacher, Mrs. Bowden, is jealous of you and me, both."
"Eh?! Why?! She's so pretty, though, and she's a teacher!"
"Both sides of your ancestors have some of the richest history and culture in this entire world," she said softly. "Never feel ashamed of your origins. Your father isn't native to America, but I still chose him to be your dad."
"You did?"
"Shi, Bǎobèi," she confirmed. "Your father is from a beautiful kingdom called Russia. He left everything behind for me and we've been together ever since."
"So, it's okay that my eyes are squinty and blue and my hair is long?"
"Shi, shi, my little Huzi," she said, smiling down at him with love and adoration. "You are who you are and you are the way you are because your father and I loved each other very deeply. Cherish your eyes and your face and everything else about yourself, my darling son, because all our love lives on through you. You carry pieces of us in your features."
Even as a child, those thoughts had warmed his heart in an indescribable way.
He'd bounced in place when she turned, lifting the spatula, and without warning, it happened.
One second she was fine, the next she'd abruptly sat down and clutched her stomach as if she were in pain. Holding her belly, she stood back up and made a hushed, slightly panicked phone call, then turned off the stove, sat down on a chair, and relaxed, breathing deeply and evenly.
When he got out of his own chair and toddled over, she tugged him on her lap.
"Are you okay, Mommy?" he asked. "Your pants are all wet. Did you have an accident?"
"Xa-Xa-chan, put your ear on my tummy and listen," she breathlessly told him, setting a tan hand on his cheek; doing as she'd asked, he'd leaned his ear against her stomach, feeling worried and confused by the thumps and odd bumps. "Do you hear that? It's your little brother! He wants to meet us!"
"Little bother?" he asked, and Ella felt a bout of childish fear sweep through her heart. "Did you eat a baby, Mommy? Why's he inside your tummy?!"
His mother blinked, then started laughing hysterically.
Cradling him in her soft arms, she giggled madly and rocked him back and forth, kissing his forehead even though she was obviously in extensive pain.
"Bu dui, my sweet, Mommy didn't eat a baby,*" she laughed, smoothing his hair. "Your brother was growing just a little inside Mommy until it was safe for him to come out and meet us."
"Why?" he asked, looking up at her. "How did he get in there?"
"The same way you did: through the magic of true love, Xa-Xa-chan!" she happily told him. "It's a wonderful thing that magically happens when a young Mommy and Daddy love each other, very much."
"So, if I like a girl," he said, very confused, "she'll become a mommy? And I'll be a Daddy?!"
"No, Bǎobèi," she soothed, still giggling like crazy. "You don't need to worry about such things until you're older. For now, let's just wait until Papka gets here. Your baby brother Adariel will be on his way soon."
Not long after, his father burst into the kitchen like a wild man, curly black hair a mess and blue-green eyes ablaze; shouting nonsensical things, he quickly ushered them into the car, driving to the hospital.
They'd all gone in... but...
But his mother had never come out.
And when they left, he was told by his father in tears that his mother would never be coming back, that his brother wouldn't be meeting them, that everything was over, and that their family had been changed forever.
Then the vision blurred, and Ella was suddenly spinning through disjointed colors and images until she once again found herself looking through his eyes.
"Papka, look!" a young voice exclaimed through her mouth."Look! Look! I made this for you!"
He was running inside a strange-looking house with a piece of paper clutched in his little arms, a picture of him and his father holding hands.
Grinning, he held it up.
Ella's consciousness sharpened when she saw the man she assumed was his father sitting at the table, head buried in his left hand with a strange brown bottle in the other. His curly hair had been shaved bald, his clothing looked extremely disheveled, and he seemed a changed man.
Well, changed in comparison to the memories of him she'd seen, at least.
"Idi v svoyu komnatu,"* he growled. "Vight now."
"But Papka," Xaphile complained, walking over and holding it up, "look! I made this just for you!"
"Go to your room, Xaphile! Vight now!"
"W-why?"
For a long moment, Olag glared down at him, and Ella felt her heart tighten.
It was as if all goodness had been sucked out of him.
His eyes were full of cold, emotionless spite.
"Never mind," he muttered, taking a swig of his beer. "You are a useless child."
Hurt and confusion swept through his heart like an electric shock.
Ella felt the searing feelings plain as day.
"I'm... useless? B-but, Papka..."
"Go avay," Olag muttered, burying his face in his hands. "Now zhat your mother is gone, zhis family... its broken. I can't take anymore of zhis."
"Broken?! But we're still together, Papka!" he protested, hurrying forward and holding out the picture. "You have me! I won't ever leave you alone, I promise!"
Ella wasn't expecting what came next.
With little warning, Olag abruptly stood up and kicked him in the chest, sending him stumbling backwards so forcefully that he lost his balance and burst through the glass doors separating the kitchen from the backyard.
With a thunderous crash, the glass shattered, and she would have gasped if she'd been able to. Skidding across the wood of the patio and cutting his hands on the razor sharp shards, Xaphile looked up at his father in shock when he angrily stepped forward, too stunned to even start crying from pain.
The man's bloodshot blue-green eyes were so cold and merciless that the very sight of his expression curdled Ella's blood.
"Shut up, Xaphile," Olag murmured in a quietly pleasant tone. "I don't even vant you anymore. Your birth vas a mistake."
Upon hearing those words, something cold and agonizing had come over him.
Even as she saw the man quietly walking upstairs towards his room, ignoring his bleeding son, Ella could feel it's weight settling over her own core through her connection to his memories, heavy, painful, an agony that shredded her heart to ribbons and twisted through her head.
"Your birth vas a mistake. I don't even vant you anymore."
"Your birth vas a mistake. I don't even vant you anymore."
"Your birth vas a mistake. I don't even vant you anymore."
"Your birth vas a mistake. I don't even vant you anymore."
It rang in her ears, over and over again, growing louder, more painful with each passing second, shredding her sanity. She wanted him to take it back, she wanted him to reassure her that he didn't mean it, that he was just upset.
She wanted him to come rushing back, to hold her, to...
But his door remained closed.
It took Ella a minute to remember that these feelings weren't even hers.
They were so crushing that it was hard to breathe.
She truly didn't know what to think.
She'd just witnessed a scumbag telling his own son that his birth was a mistake, and for Xaphile, who had been so young and impressionable, it had been a life-shattering moment.
Even after his hands had been tended to and the glass had been pulled out of his skin, those words had followed him for the rest of his life. She could hear them ringing throughout the memories as they flashed past her, could feel the weight of the pain they brought.
He hadn't been able to forget that his own father had said he wasn't wanted, that him being born had been a mistake.
That HE was a mistake.
And Ella knew that he'd believed it simply because he'd already been alone in the world. None of the other kids at school had ever really wanted to play with him since he'd been a fairly quiet little boy.
Long black hair, oddly bright eyes, parents of mixed heritage... for someone so young, he'd been rather unsociable, so he'd had nobody to tell him that Olag was wrong, and as a result, he'd grown up thinking he was unlovable. After all, if his own father couldn't love him, how could he expect someone else to?
The answer was simple.
He couldn't.
But things had only gotten worse.
After that first initial kick, he'd been beaten by his dad... turned into a means for venting a frustration that would never leave. Even though he'd loved his father, had done everything he could to bring happiness back to their family, in the end... he had been trash.
Filth.
Nothing.
A waste of a life.
He had been all alone... unloved, harassed... shattering like a mirror in the face of his father's hate. Ella could only watch as the memories flew past, taking them in with stunned eyes: she could see him now... could see him standing in front of a mirror, all alone in his bedroom, covered in horrible bruises.
Small limbs mangled.
Left arm in a splint.
A myriad of black eyes looking out of a haunted face that seemed to grow older even as she watched.
Every day, he stood there, looking at new injuries, and they flashed past, to the next day, progressively growing older with his wounds and body changing little by little, but the sad, lost look in his eyes never so much as fading.
She felt herself grow cold as she saw his face age before her eyes.
Seeing his features like this, through his own eyes, was what sealed the truth.
In wherever this had taken place, he had been human.
Not a demon, not even a faery.
Human.
But these images were sad and empty, flickering like a dying candle. They grew darker and darker... until, almost abruptly, something within them shifted.
Her subconscious shivered in shock, since everything unexpectedly grew bright and took on gorgeous color.
A memory full of beauty and sharp clarity then revealed itself to her.
He was on his way to the grocery store for his father, but after buying what he'd been told to and getting himself a small sub sandwich, he'd begun the walk back home. One second he'd been walking around the corner of an overpass.
The next, someone unexpectedly crashed into him.
The momentum of the impact had knocked him flat onto the ground and sent whoever it was flipping clean over his head with a startled shriek.
That was the moment she'd popped into his life, much like a daisy springing out of the snow.
Kneeling directly in front of Xaphile's small form was... herself?
Ella's heart would have skipped a beat had she been conscious of her physical body.
It was definitely her.
The other Ella.
The other version of her had been a beautiful child... pale skin, a strange white bowl cut, and long white eyelashes. Xaphile's memory self was more than a little dazed by her strange appearance, especially when her eyes flicked open.
They'd been the most unusual thing he'd ever seen... a startling shade of pink that had made him want to stare... and stare... and stare. For some reason, those gorgeously large eyes were utterly entrancing.
Ella Richardson blinked a few times before sitting up, then she gasped and began feeling around for something.
"I can't see!" she yelped, looking completely terrified. "My glasses! Did they break?!"
Xaphile glanced at the concrete beside her and saw the spectacles lying unharmed.
Getting up, he picked them up and hesitantly tapped her shoulder to get her attention; when she looked at him, he carefully put her glasses back on her face and wordlessly held out his hand.
He didn't say anything.
He didn't want to.
But almost shyly, she took his proffered hand and allowed herself to be pulled upright.
"Are you all right?" he asked, glancing down at her scraped knee. "You're bleeding."
"I'll be fine!" she cheerfully protested, patting her pocket. "Mommy says I'm a klutz, so she always makes me keep band-aids in my pocket."
"Oh," he mumbled. "Sorry for not looking where I was going."
"Ditto," the other Ella said, clasping her hands and shyly wriggling around, cheeks bright pink. "Even with my glasses on I bump into things."
"Mm..." he mumbled, turning to walk away; hefting the grocery bag up to his shoulder, he unwrapped his sandwich and took a small bite of it. He made a face. "Well, it's better than bread crusts."
"What do you mean? Bread crusts are the best part!"
Ella was reluctant to admit, even to herself, that the way he jumped amused her. He'd been so startled to find the little girl walking only a few steps behind him that he'd nearly fallen over a second time.
"I-it's not like that!" he stammered. "My papka really is nice to me, honest."
"That's great!" she laughed, beaming at him. "Hey, what's your name?"
"Huh? My name?"
"Yeah! My name is Ella Marie Richardson! I'm five years old! So? What's yours?"
"Um..." he mumbled, hiding his eyes with his hair, "X... Xaphile... Heseroph... I'm six years old."
"Wow! You're one year bigger than me!" she exclaimed, looking as if it were the most amazing thing in the world; then she jumped over and clutched his hand with both of hers, grinning hopefully behind her glasses. "Xaph... i... le? Phi...le... er, Xaphy! Can I call you Xaphy?"
She looked at him expectantly.
"Yes?" he proffered, feeling exceptionally nervous. "I guess?"
"Yay! Xaphy!" she cried, jumping up and down. "Xaphy, will you play with me? My Mommy asked me to go play outside for a little while, but nobody ever wants to! They're all scared of me because I have white hair! Everyone says I'll make them turn white, too, if I get too close!"
"I have to drop off the groceries. I can't do anything right now."
"You went shopping?" Ella asked, beaming in a cheerful manner behind her glasses. "All by yourself?! Without your Daddy?!"
"Y-yeah... I do it all the time."
"Wow!" she cried, throwing her hands into the air. "You're like a grown up! I can't wait to be six years old! Hey, what kind of sandwich is that?"
"It's a sub," he explained, glancing down at it. "It has turkey and cheese on it."
"Ooh!" she squeaked, clapping her hands. "Sounds Yummy!"
Then, without an ounce of hesitation, she leaned forward and chomped down on it.
He stiffened and blinked at her while thoughts of cooties passed through his head, whatever those were... but then, those thoughts dissolved since her owlish little face had melted into a puddle of delight. When she pulled away, chewing, she touched her cheek with an expression of bliss.
Ella, who was still watching everything and experiencing everything through his eyes, felt it when it started happening.
Something deep within his heart stirred, a strange emotional tug that was both startling and unfamiliar.
Xaphile stood frozen in place, unable to move, even when a gust of wind tore his hood off and started messing up his hair. For the longest time, he stared at her blushing face as that stirring sensation strengthened, blooming with an inexplicable warmth.
And as Ella Rochard watched, she felt his stoic facial expression slowly soften up. Ever so slowly, his lips pulled themselves upwards in a goofy, awkward manner.
When the other Ella turned to look at him again, her own grin immediately faded.
She instantly stepped forward and set her small white hands on his cheek.
"You've got a bad boo boo," she told him, rubbing his aching skin. "It looks like it hurts. Do you want a band-aid? I have lots in my pocket..."
"I'll be fine," he quietly replied, lifting his own hand and gently clasping her wrist; closing his eyes, he tilted his head and pressed his cheek against the cool skin of her palm. "This feels nice enough... your hand is a little cold, so it doesn't hurt as much."
"Really?" she asked, brightening up in surprise. "Did I really make the boo boo feel better?"
He slowly opened his eyes again, looking at her through his lashes.
"Yes," he mumbled, giving her another goofy little smile. "Will you be my friend?"
He'd asked it before he could think... before he'd even realized he was giving himself an opportunity to be rejected. But worry hadn't been necessary, because her face had lit up like the sun.
"Yes!" she squealed, jumping up and down. "I actually wanted to ask you the same thing! You're the only kid who's been nice to me in this town since I moved here with my Mommy! Let's be good friends, Xaphy! Ooh! Can we go play together after you take the groceries home?!"
"Uh, I think...?"
"YAY! Well, let's go! Let's take them there so we can play!"
He jumped when she pulled her hand away from his cheek in favor of clasping his wrist.
Then, with a giggle, she roughly tugged him down the street, ignoring his squawk of protest.
On that day, so long ago... she'd held his hand... and in it had been his heart.
From that moment on, they'd been attached at the hip.
Ella watched as time passed before her eyes.
Watched as they'd started growing older.
She sifted through these memories with observant eyes.
The people around them who'd known about their friendship had expected the two of them to grow apart and become disinterested like every other kid on Earth, but in truth, the opposite had actually happened. With each passing day, month, and year, the bond between Xaphile Heseroph and Ella Richardson had only deepened profoundly.
When he'd turned ten, he'd finally confessed to her where the bruises on his body had been coming from for so long. She'd always asked him about the bruises, and she'd constantly fretted over them since she'd always believed he was just dangerously clumsy.
She had been horrified when he'd told her that his father had been hitting him.
But instead of being mad that he'd hidden it from her... Ella Richardson... being the wonderful, empathetic, and truly angelic girl that she was... had started crying for him.
She had burst into tears and clutched his face with both hands.
"Why didn't you tell me!" she'd cried, shaking her head. "My Mama would have offered to take you in! She would have! She loves you just as much as I do, Xaphy!"
"You love me?" he'd asked, feeling surprised. "You... really love me?"
"Of course I do!" she'd sniffed, pressing her face against his shoulder. "You're my best friend in the whole wide world! I can't believe you didn't tell me, but... but I'm even worse, because I didn't figure it out. I'm so sorry..."
"It's not your fault," he'd told her, lifting his arms and hugging her. "My dad is a jerk. I'm used to it."
"If you ever need me," Ella had told him, lifting her face with a pout, "don't hesitate to come over or call. Okay? In fact, make sure you come over whenever you can to get away from him."
He'd smiled at her, then, lifting a hand and touching her snowy hair with gentle eyes.
And in that moment, a line from one of his favorite movies had come back to him.
"As you wish," Xaphile had murmured, looking at her eyes with a mellow expression, "Ella."
That day, they'd grown closer to each other in a way that most normal children would never learn about until they were older. And they'd continued growing close, one year at a time.
Ella watched the memories fly past, feeling more and more enthralled.
Watching him devote his entire being to this one girl, feeling everything as he had, becoming ensnared in the consciousness that was Xaphile Heseroph. But then, a memory that shone so bright that it almost hurt her consciousness flashed into existence, blinding her senses.
He was running on the track field for his extracurricular activities.
From what she'd already discerned, the society of his world required students to perform specific tasks in school, as well as after it, and by the time the runners managed to get their things and go home, everyone else at school was already long gone.
She watched as Xaphile headed into his last-hour classroom to grab his backpack, tying his long black hair into a ponytail to keep it off of his neck, but much to his surprise, there she'd been.
Sitting on his desk in front of the open window, long white hair drifting on the warm breeze sliding into the classroom. She'd been staring at the track field below when he'd walked in... but upon his entry, her eyes lit up and she beamed at him with the smile he adored.
Letting out a sigh, Xaphile looked at her with gentle eyes before walking over.
"What are you still doing here?" he muttered. "I thought you'd gone home."
"I wanted to watch you run," she explained, smiling up at him. "You always have this big smile on your face when you're running! I was only planning on watching for a little while, but..."
She trailed off and sheepishly shrugged.
"If you want to watch," he sighed, setting a hand on her head and gently stroking her hair. "Just come down to the field."
"Well, I thought about it..." she pouted, twiddling her fingers a bit. "I didn't want to bother you."
He blinked, then frowned.
"Don't be an idiot. If anything, it'd probably help me improve my times, since I tend not to trip as much whenever you're around."
She'd giggled madly in response... but then, in a way that had made him feel bizarrely nostalgic, she'd lifted her hand and gently gripped his wrist, pressing her cheek against his palm.
For a long moment, she'd basked in the warmth of his large hand.
Ella Rochard watched as her doppelganger looked up at him with eyes that had taken his breath away.
And In an instant, the world had fallen silent.
"Can I say something strange?" she'd asked, smiling at him with gorgeous pink eyes that were half-hidden behind shy white lashes. "I know this is out of the blue, but... it's important."
Her expression had done something strange to his heart because within only a few short moments it had nearly thumped itself clean out of his chest.
"A-as you wish," he'd breathed, feeling awkward without knowing why. "Go ahead."
She'd instantly giggled and nuzzled his hand.
"That's actually kind of what I want to talk to you about," she'd murmured. "I just watched Princess Bride for the first time yesterday... and it's no secret that it's one of your favorite movies. I was just wondering... if you feel the same way about me as Wesley did with Buttercup."
His mind had gone blank for a moment with surprise... but then, it hadn't mattered.
There was no point in hiding it, so, he'd told her the truth.
"With every fiber of my being," he'd awkwardly murmured, looking at her with a piercing expression before guiltily lowering his eyes. "Since... the moment we first met, actually."
Her own eyes had instantly widened.
"So... you love me?" Ella had shakily asked, looking as though she would faint from a combination of anxiety and hope. "You... you really love me?!"
"No... I'm in love with you," Xaphile had told her. "There's a difference between loving someone and being in love with them. Every part of my being is yours, Ella... my heart, my soul, all of my devotion. Its something I've felt for years, but never really had the courage to say."
"Prove it," she'd whispered, staring him down. "If you really are in love with me... prove it, Xaphile."
He'd blinked, since it had been the first time in years that she'd called him by his full name.
Then, she'd closed her eyes.
As if she'd been expecting something.
Despite his extreme awkwardness and hesitation, and despite his madly beating heart, he'd shakily leaned down and ever so gently pressed his lips against her own.
The contact had been electric: it had seared through his nerves and shocked his gut in a way he'd been unfamiliar with.
Shivering a little, he'd lifted his free hand and threaded it through her silken white hair. Gently keeping her locked in his embrace. Time had slowed down for an eternity of bliss... the world around him had faded and gone blurry around the edges.
But he hadn't closed his eyes.
When she'd opened hers, her expression had gone from dazed to stunned before softening again.
And the moment he'd seen the love she had for him shining in her eyes, the world around him had dissolved completely.
His frantic heart had calmed down... his worries had dissolved... and it was as if he'd been set free somehow.
She had accepted him as himself, every part of him... all his burdens, all of his history, all of him in general... and because of that, he'd truly felt whole.
That moment had marked a profound shifting point in their relationship, and something that had always been there had sharpened before going very, very deep.
From that point on, without a doubt, he had been hers.
Ella felt stunned as the memories drifted further on.
From carving their names into a tree as children to seal their friendship... to swimming in Lake Michigan as adolescents... to dancing under the stars as a young couple, he had loved her practially his whole life.
Through these sweet, and very beautiful moments, somehow, this other version of herself had given him true happiness.
But with that one kiss, everything within him had been set on fire with feeling for her and her alone.
One kiss had made him hers.
Her spirit shivered when the strengthened power of his emotions swept through her consciousness, clean out of the passing memories.
Warmth... passion... and an unbearable amount of desire.
Was this truly... his love?
This pure, raw, unrefined feeling of heat that bloomed within...?
It was so strong... stronger and more beautiful than anything she had ever felt. The strength of his love overwhelmed her to the extreme, blotting out her senses and making her own emotions seem shallow and small in comparison.
However, confusion touched her heart when the flickering images faded into a darker tone: she could feel the first touches of pain meshing with the current of love and passion she had been blissfully drifting through.
As she was swept into the current of his thoughts towards the source of his present emotional state, tendrils of darkness began to stain the colors of his peaceful memories like rivers of blood running through clear water.
Ella let out a croak of dismay when she felt the emotions inside his memory pull her forward, like a helpless ray of light in the face of a black hole lurking in the deepest recesses of space.
There was no escaping the pull of this horrifyingly powerful experience. All around her, darkness flowed in an increasing torrent of agony.
The moment she was submerged in it's shadows, she couldn't breathe: her eyes went round as the sound of a single, horrifying, disembodied scream shredded through her mind.
His scream... the sound of a young man in utter agony.
As the horrid sound faded away, the sorce of this darkness revealed itself in the form of a flickering vision.
Dread inexplicably filled her heart.
Snow... all around her, snow was falling to the ground. The world around her had turned white with it. She was looking down at his hands through his eyes.
Pale hands that were covered completely in blood that wasn't his. A sick sensation immediately jolted through her mind.
Cradled in his arms... was the other her. The Ella of his world lay limply, covered in blood.
She was breathing heavily and obviously in pain.
"Don't worry, you're gonna be fine," she involuntarily told the girl through Xaphile's mouth, watching helplessly as he set a hand against her cheek. "Don't close your eyes! Stay with me!"
"It... hurts..." Ella Richardson wheezed, pupils utterly enormous. "Phil... I... I can't..."
"You can, and shall," Xaphile whispered hoarsely; Ella, still looking through his eyes, registered a horrible sting in his shoulder, but he was ignoring the blood running down his arm. "Don't give in, Ella... please... keep your eyes open."
"I..." she sobbed, breathing growing even shallower after she started crying, "I don't... think... it'll matter... even if... I do... close them..."
"What are you saying?!" he cried, wrenching her heart. "Ella!"
"I... can't see... anymore... Phil..." she croaked, eyes flicking back and forth. "Everything's... going... fuzzy... and I can only see spots. I can't even... see you anymore... where are you?!"
Almost immediately, Xaphile held her as tightly as he could, muscles quivering violently. And Ella could feel her... the limpness of her body... the fading warmth of her skin... she watched it all with an odd sense of numbness.
"I'm right here, Ella..." he whispered. "I'm right here... don't worry, everything is going to be fine..."
"I... love... you..." the dying girl choked out, struggling to lift a hand and touch Xaphile's cheek; a trickle of blood slid out of her mouth when her fingers grazed him. "I'm scared... so you can't cry. Be a man... oaf..."
"I won't cry," he told her, pressing his lips against her forehead. "I promise. Just, stay with me."
"I... I want to..." she whispered, muscles slowly going slack. "But... I..."
Before she finished, her hand dropped.
Ella Rochard's heart nearly stopped. She'd just watched herself die in Xaphile's arms.
The boy stared at her with a blank expression... then shook her a little.
"Ella...?" he whispered, making her want to look away. "Ella...? Ella?!"
No response.
"Ella!" someone else shrieked, making the ghostly girl twitch; head whipping to the side, she spotted the woman from the picture residing inside his locket. Chubby cheeks, brown hair... the other Ella's mother was crawling through the bloody snow to clutch her daughter's arm. "Baby, wake up!"
She turned her eyes back to Xaphile.
Eyes wide and mouth hanging open in horror, the teenage boy was simply staring at the body of his girlfriend. But then, he lost control of himself: eyes wide, he unexpectedly let loose a raw-throated scream of agony.
Then he'd jerked her close and held her against his chest, throwing his head back and screaming again.
The girl's spirit flinched as that painful roar traveled up and down the streets.
"ELLA! WAKE UP! SAY SOMETHING!!" Xaphile cried, roughly shaking the other Ella's body, "COME ON! THIS ISN'T FUNNY! SAY SOMETHING!"
She wanted to look away... to avoid seeing this... but she couldn't.
She felt the realization slide into his heart... felt it as the ice filled his once-bright and gentle heart and caused it to shatter.
Her whole consciousness jumped when the images before her slowly faded into a darkness that stretched on endlessly.
She watched, helplessly, as the memories continued forward, leading all the way up to... to...
She stiffened in horror.
"No..." she whispered, not wanting to see anymore. "Gus... Amelia... pull me out of this. Now."
Nothing happened.
The visions continued to clear up, revealing him walking with Connie Richardson through a world so bleak it made every fiber of her being feel empty.
His emotions washed over her... agony, sorrow, a sense of loss.
As if her heart had been ripped clean out her body.
Then, the walk home... going into his father's bathroom and popping two bottles of pills into his mouth. The tangy sensation of washing them down with orange juice. Then, grabbing his father's gun and leaving the house again.
She watched as he weakly stumbled to the place the other Ella had died in... moving forward, with tears streaming down his cheeks. Falling to his knees where the other version of her had died and leaning against the wall. Then, lifting his hand and holding the gun against his temple.
Recalling everything about her... gathering his resolve to chase her, even into death.
Memories upon memories, twisting his expression... but then, a weak smile.
The hope of relief from his burdens.
Horrified, unable to do anything but simply sit back... she watched, helpless.
"Don't," Ella whispered, struggling to grab him; however, her hands passed through him. "You can't, please."
He merely sat there, unable to hear her... the barrel of his father's gun an inch away from his skull. His teal eyes were surprisingly calm. She watched with bated breath as he thought back to the time when the world still seemed to have promise.
Her entire consciousness flinched when he pulled the trigger.
There was a peal of thunder and a blinding flash that echoed in her ears for what seemed like hours.
In that moment, she forcibly called out to Gus.
"GET ME OUT OF HERE!" she wailed, soul shuddering violently. "I CAN'T WATCH ANYMORE OF THIS!"
For a long moment, nothing happened... the darkness continued to stretch on endlessly.
Then the memories shifted, and she felt a sick sensation engulf her.
She saw herself... through his eyes.
His confusion, his joy, his relief... all of the emotions he'd felt engulfed her. But instead of a smile, there was a disgusted and terrible sneer... a horrible expression of hate. She felt her soul fall still almost instantaneously.
"Do I really look at him like that?" she whispered, staring at herself in disbelief. "There's no way..."
However, the images only worsened.
The faces of total strangers abusing him for no reason aside from his strange appearance.
The memories of being locked up in a cage like an animal after being beaten senseless ripped her soul-self to shreds.
Then, she saw the events of the very next day... when she'd mercilessly flogged him.
Her eyes went blank as she watched herself approach.
To him, looking like a demon in an angel's skin.
Her terrible smile, the cheering of the crowd... the satisfied smirk when she began to lash him.
She shuddered when his ripping pain seared across the skin on her back, burning it and flaying it... the horrible smile she'd given him as she'd ripped his skin open, letting his blood flow freely. So much blood that it pooled beneath his feet and caused him to slip. Too weak to do much but dangle.
Ella actually shivered and hugged herself.
Seeing herself like this... it was no wonder he hated her.
She looked more like a demon than the actual beasts of the forest.
She was grateful when those memories faded... but then, she was swept forward to the night she had interrogated him about the locket.
She felt stunned when she saw what had come after she'd left him... the beautiful, but mournful song he'd hummed, full of his resolution to die again.
Then, she saw Amelia.
Ella stiffened when the conversation the two of them had exchanged flashed inside her head. The sight of the brunette praying for him, the words they'd exchanged about her... it all coalesced into a feeling of utter grief and profound regret, making her wish she could undo everything and start over.
Heart beginning to ache with these negative feelings, she clutched her hair.
"I'M SORRY!" she screeched, shivering as more of their interactions began to play before her eyes; the sight of her nasty expressions every time she'd looked at him winded her. "I'M SORRY! I REALLY AM!"
Almost as if her words had triggered it, in a flash of light, she was pulled back into a proper state of consciousness.
And for a long moment, everything was quiet.
Ella's eyes remained closed, for she knew that if she opened them, tears would start streaming down her pale cheeks and she would cry for the fourth time in her entire life. It was too late to gain forgiveness.
Instinctively, she knew that he would never trust her after what she'd done to him.
To have put him through such things... without knowing anything.
She truly was a monster.
Looking at the deathlike and hollow gaze resting behind his closed eyes made her throat burn with an unpleasant emotion that she wasn't familiar with.
Xaphile had been destroyed from the inside out because of how deeply he'd fallen in love, but the fucked up part was that he'd loved a girl who'd literally looked exactly like her.
And yet... even after all she'd seen...
She shook her head free of the horrific images that sprung behind her eyes.
She didn't like feeling guilty, especially since she rarely ever had a cause to feel guilty, but she'd misjudged a very dangerous and important situation.
What she'd done to him had been terribly wrong, and she wanted nothing more than to get rid of the guilt coursing through her.
"So... was invading his privacy worth it, my lady?" Amelia quietly asked, eyes looking extremely dark for some strange reason. "Pray, tell... did you find out what you wanted to?"
Ella slowly sat up and planted her forehead on her palms, opening her eyes and staring at the ground with a nauseated feeling in her stomach.
Watching him... take his own life, and then putting him to the lash... threatening to cut his head off. Every biting remark, seen through his eyes...
The sting of her words, felt with his emotions.
After that, it would have been an understatement to say that she genuinely felt sick with herself.
"I did," she whispered hoarsely, shakily looking at Gus, who had gone bone white. "What's with him?"
The blonde man slowly shook his head, jade green eyes completely and utterly blank.
"I... I..." he whispered weakly, then retched and covered his mouth, face ashen; he heaved for a few moments, eyes squeezed shut... but then, he slowly opened them and stared into space. "I am sorry... but I never thought a day would come when I would find myself wishing I could turn back time."
Amelia's eyes flashed when Ella shivered and swallowed, hunching her shoulders with a grim face.
"Rest," Amelia muttered, making an arcane wave and disconnecting them from each other. "Whatever you saw probably wasn't pleasant. If you have the answer you wanted, that's all I care about."
"I saw... his world," Ella whispered, giving Xaphile's unconscious form a disbelieving look. "I saw everything... he wasn't lying. Earth exists... America exists! His world is a real place!"
"Eh?!" Amelia scoffed, looking extremely startled. "What?!"
"It's true," Ella stammered, shivering violently and clutching herself. "Even more strangely... the woman he loved was... she was another me. That girl was me, and... and she died... she died, right there... right in front of him. And he... he really took his own..."
Before she could finish speaking, however, she immediately felt her stomach turn upside down. Doubling over and heaving up the little that was in her stomach, she started coughing hysterically.
Amelia's face went blank when she retched again, forcing her to double over even further.
Then she closed her eyes and took a deep breath to keep from passing out.
Gus gently patted her back.
"I understand," he gruffly muttered, shaking his head. "I really do understand... don't hold it in."
"Shut up," Ella coughed, eyes stinging madly. "I... I can't... I just don't..."
"Enough," Amelia sighed, holding up a hand. "You have your answer, and it's quite obvious that whatever you saw has changed your outlook entirely. From this point on, I will implore to apologize to him... and after that, to get along with each other. Now, because I've exhausted myself... I am going to lie down and fall asleep myself. We cut it very close with my magic this time."
With a sigh, she turned and walked over to her sleeping bag.
Ella looked up at Gus, eyes shimmering with unfathomable emotions.
He looked right back at her, not knowing what to think of her expression.
"How can I apologize to him after what I did?" she whispered, shivering violently. "How?! He'll... he'll never forgive me. I felt it, Octavius... I felt it within him. He will never truly forgive me."
"I don't think there's any right answer," he muttered, turning his eyes away, "but it's just like you said. Everyone must take responsibility for their actions. Even if he doesn't forgive you right away... you must still apologize. After everything I just saw and felt... you owe him that much, at the very least."
When the man stood up and walked over to his own bedroll, Ella buried her face in her hands.
Her entire outlook on this whole situation had changed.
Forget trying to find the lost soul of his lover... she was shocked that he'd managed to hold onto his sanity at all. Everything he was feeling... everything she had done... regardless of her intentions, suspicions, and worries... all of it was her fault.
She was indeed the catalyst that had broken him completely.
Giving him hope only to crush it, however involuntarily.
The biggest problem she now faced was that she had no idea what to do now that she had her answer.
He wasn't her enemy.
But because of her own actions, he wasn't her ally, either.
He wanted nothing more than to get away from her.
And the worst part was that she didn't even blame him.
________________
Thanks for reading! Don't forget to vote if you liked it!