Quarantined Night (5)
That was the end of their exchange.
As the elf watched Theorad vanish, Theorad saw her disappear as well. Her last expression, scattered into countless particles, was a mixture of anger and disbelief.
“...”
The blizzard returned to the place where she had been standing.
Theorad breathed slowly and looked around. Nothing moved across the white expanse except the snow. He had destroyed the bracelet, so Rastain's voice could no longer reach him.
Am I trapped?
He had no idea how to return to the elf's memories, much less find the self hidden within them. Perhaps he would have to remain in this place for a very long time.
Even so, he did not regret what he had done.
If this was the price of interfering with her past, he would pay it.
It's cold.
Theorad turned and began to walk.
Snow swallowed his feet. The cold bit at his fingers and ears, and the wind made it difficult to keep his eyes open.
His whole body seemed to be freezing, yet he went on searching.
There had to be a way back into her past. He had not come this far to abandon the fool who was lost somewhere within her own consciousness.
He wandered without finding so much as a clue.
Breaking Rastain's bracelet must have closed the path she had opened for him. The thought was grim, but he would not give way to panic.
In theory, it is possible.
He remembered her words. If there was any possibility of finding a way without her guidance, he meant to try.
He climbed to a nearby ridge and looked down.
Clouds lay far beneath him. Now he understood why the elf had said no human could reach this mountain by ordinary means.
The descent will be long.
The slopes were steep, and every misplaced step threatened a fall onto frozen rock. An ordinary body could easily be killed in such terrain. Theorad was only a consciousness here, but he could still feel cold and pain.
Nevertheless, he would have to descend if he wanted to find some trace of her.
He had lost Rastain's supernatural guidance. His own two feet would have to serve.
Wait for me.
Whatever he endured, however long it took, he had a purpose the storm could not shake.
I'll save you.
He remembered the elf lying helpless in the sickroom and began to walk.
The divine light in the sickroom scattered.
Rastain had been forced back into ordinary reality. She opened her eyes and looked at the elf on the bed, her silver hair pale in the moonlight.
For this patient, Theorad had broken the boundary between her consciousness and her remembered past. He had destroyed the bracelet and chosen to interfere, knowing the danger.
Rastain could not understand why he had done it.
Why would you…?
She turned toward him.
Theorad sat beside the bed with his head lowered and eyes closed. For a moment, the stillness of his face reminded her of a saint in an old painting.
She reached for his wrist and removed the broken remains of the bracelet.
With his consciousness already lost within the elf's mind, the ruined charm was of no use.
Viscount Theorad, what a terrible choice you've made.
Foolish. Stubborn. Perhaps only someone so foolish and stubborn could have chosen it.
He might now spend the same day wandering through that empty consciousness without end.
Decades, perhaps centuries: Rastain could not know how long it would take him to find the patient. Even if he succeeded, that loneliness might break his mind.
She feared something worse as well. If the solitude drove him to take his own life within that world, his soul might perish and his body never wake again.
All that time would pass apart from the ordinary world. In the sickroom, not even a full day might go by.
No one would know the cost, except Rastain and Theorad himself. Even if the elf recovered, those waiting outside would see only a treatment that had taken a night.
He had not done this for praise. Knowing that did not make Rastain pity him any less.
She could accomplish nothing by worrying. Everything depended now upon Theorad's endurance.
She folded her hands.
God of Light, guide your lost lamb. If you are watching from the distant heavens…
Please grant this man grace, not another trial.
An enormous mirror stood before the elf.
Its old frame was carefully kept, and the glass was so clean and straight it seemed designed to reveal every fault of the person looking into it.
She could hardly bear to approach.
With each step, faces appeared in the reflection: people who had died by her hand.
Their voices followed.
—Monster.
—You deceived us.
—If we'd known you were so powerful, we would never have attacked you.
—You're no different from us.
—Murderer. Filth.
She knew the reflections were not the dead speaking to her. They were shapes given to her own guilt.
She tried to ignore them and break the glass.
Then she stopped.
—Do you really think I could like you?
Theorad was there in the mirror, glaring at her.
She knew this was another reflection of her fear. Still, she could not make herself answer.
What if Theorad truly hated her?
The image spoke again.
—I don't even want to look at you. Never come near me again.
Those were words the Theorad she knew would never have spoken. They broke her nevertheless.
Perhaps all his kindness had been an act. Perhaps he had treated her gently only because he feared what she could do.
If that was what he really felt, she had no right to escape this place. She should remain here and atone.
“I'm sorry…”
She lay on her side beneath an open, empty sky. Black water covered the ground around her.
“I'm sorry, Theorad…”
The apology went nowhere.
The dark water began to draw her under. It clung to her fingers, arms and legs, pulling her slowly into its depths. It felt almost gentle, as though promising her rest if she would only stop struggling.
She was so tired.
Her eyes began to close.
Thud!
A dull impact jolted her awake.
Another followed.
Thud!
Cracks spread across the great mirror. Someone was striking it from the other side.
Crash!
The fractures branched outward. Pieces began to fall, and one final blow drove through the glass.
Shatter!
The mirror collapsed in a storm of fragments.
Beyond it stood Theorad, breathing hard and gripping a rusty steel sword.
“Finally…”
He dropped the sword, caught his breath and straightened.
“How impertinent. Who told you to lie there?”
His voice sounded exhausted, but its firmness was familiar.
The elf raised her head in astonishment. The black water loosened its hold on her.
“Theorad…?”
A faint smile touched his lips. Even smiling seemed to cost him effort, but the kindness was the same as ever.
“Sorry I'm late.”
Tears filled her eyes.
She wiped at them with her wrist and struggled upright. Her legs shook. She could hardly stand, yet she did.
She knew this was not another cruel image in the mirror.
It was Theorad.
“I…”
Her throat tightened. She tried to speak, but her tears blurred his face.
She was afraid that if she blinked, he would disappear again.
“I, I…”
Hiccups broke the words apart. She hated being seen crying so helplessly, but could not stop.
“Enough,” Theorad murmured.
Then, more gently:
“How long do you intend to keep me in this miserable place?”
The words released everything she had been holding back.
She ran.
Silver hair streaming behind her, the elf crossed the broken mirror's threshold. Theorad lifted his arms and caught her against his chest.
It was a warmth she had almost forgotten.
“Theorad… I remember you!”
She held him tightly, sobbing into his clothes, her arms wrapped around his back as though she could apologize for all the times she had treated him cruelly.
“I remember you, too.”
Theorad returned her embrace.
He knew now how much pain she had endured. With a quiet sigh, he stroked the back of her head.
“So don't carry it all alone anymore.”
The world around them broke apart like shattered glass.
Neither paid attention. They held each other a little closer, thinking only of the hurt the other had borne.