Bab 142: The End
“I did this to save your life, that’s what you do for the people you love.” So much blood, is all I could think. As quickly as the blood spilled from his being, he stopped moving and breathing. I try to shake him but to no avail. No, he can’t die on me, not now. "I'll deal with the consequences later."
“Alexander. . .Alexander. . .ALEXANDER!” Nothing, no response. A gross sob leaves me, I killed him, me and me alone. My hands go back to his stomach, but no matter how much I press the blood keeps coming.
I look closely at my hands; it’s painted with the blood of my lover. A realization comes to me, the visions. In Ida's shop when I touched Sasha’s hands, I got a glimpse of three pictures. One was an oak tree, bloody hands and four girls in a tomb. I already saw the oak tree when the wolf, Katana, took me to it. It showed me the Miny story of The First power. Then the bloody hands, I thought I saw them in the cafeteria that day but I was wrong.
The hands belong to me, and the blood belongs to Alexander. It was prophesied, all along this was supposed to happen. He was supposed to get stabbed and I was supposed to be the reason why. I try to wipe away the blood on my white nightgown, that is now bathed in this blood. Stain of it still remains on my hand.
As I wipe vigorously, I feel myself becoming weak. My hands start to fall, my eyes droop and my head tilts. I collapse onto the ground; my head aligns with Alexander’s feet as my feet are aligns with his head. My hand sits on top of his, around me I see people running amuck. Yount and his people are now gone, most likely going to get The First power.
Since I have a good view of the doors, I see a bunch of people rush in. It’s Alexander’s father and his pack. One person I know extremely well comes over to me, it’s Lyra. What is she doing here?”
“Lyra.” I say, my voice coming out faint.
“Quinneth, oh Quinneth. We must help you.” With the little energy I have I shake my head. My finger points to Alexander.
“Help him first, he needs it.” She shakes her head, a few tears leaving her eye ducts.
“I- I won’t leave you. Remember in the living room, at your grandfather's date, we said we would never leave each other. I don’t know about you, but I’m not a liar. I meant it, I will be here with you now and when you die.” That’s Lyra, my best friend. “I won’t leave you, sister.” Her hand sweeps coolly against my forehead.
Before I succumb to the darkness, I look to Alexander. It will probably be the last time I see him, so I absorb his look. That dark hair, and the little piece that hangs over his eye. Those dark, mysterious eyes with the grey flecks that swarm in them. Also, his beautiful, and perfect smile. How I’ll miss that. And the warm feeling I get when he kisses me goodbye. All out fights, all the bickering suddenly doesn’t seem important anymore. Just the love we shared.
Suddenly, all I see is darkness.
On the hard, marble floors lay a man and a woman. A man and a woman who had immense love for each other. Her hand sits easy in the palm of his. Those hands that stroked each other's cheeks, those hands that gave each other comfort. Those hands that have killed the both of them. Deep inside them, a sparkle of light sits. Waiting to come out and bring them back to their glory selves. Around them surrounds chaos and panic, they are both shaken vigorously. Hoping to see their beautiful eyes and the twitch of their lip. But nothing. The man and the woman don’t wake up. Quinneth and Alexander, those are their names, don’t wake up.
Location: Somewhere far. . .far away
On the other side of the world sits a woman, her curly hair sits on her shoulders. The black eyes stare out the window. In her hand sits a cup of hot tea, the steam rises in the cold air. Her legs cross over the other, the foot on the ground taps in anticipation.
She’s been waiting, waiting for the signal, waiting for the butterflies in her stomach to flutter to let her know of change. The change that should be happening sometime soon.
“Ma’am, do you need some more tea?” asks one of her servants. She turns her head up to the rather tall, blonde headed woman.
“No, I’m good.” The servant walks away, shutting the wooden door ever so quietly. The curly haired woman looks back out the window. In the white crisp snow plays a couple of school children. One around the age of 6 and the other 4- or 5. They throw snowballs at each other, their joyous laughs echo around them.
A smile comes to the curly-haired woman's lips, then an angry expression. “Shut up down there before I ring your necks.” The school kids hear her and run, for they know who she is. They were warned of her, of her evilness, of her being an abomination made from the moon goddess herself.
The monster that haunts the dreams of everyone around the world who even knows what fear is.
Then, as sudden as the snowflakes falling from the sky, she gets a flutter. The flutter that tells her that the something she is waiting for his coming. It’s here, finally.
“Servant!” Her voice screams.
In walks the servant, “Yes ma’am?”
“Saddle my horses, it’s time for me to go home.”
“Yes ma’am.” The woman stops, as the curly haired woman says something else.
“It’s not ma’am, its princess.”
“Princess who?” The servant says quietly.
“Princess Sasha. Daughter of the Red Wolf, King of Insofar and soon King of Nygaard.” The servant runs out the room, and the curly haired woman, now to be known as Sasha puts a grim smile on her face.
“I’m coming home father. We shall get our revenge."
Hadiah
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