Lumeria POV

She watches the blood splatter like rubies ripped from a nouveau riche's neck. His body, thumps against the ground. And the cogs stop turning inside her.

It feels unreal when Rakgar throws her Soril’s head. This must be a nightmare. She’s dreaming. That’s right. She’s got to be dreaming. If she bites her tongue hard enough, she’ll wake up. And, and, he’ll be asleep beside her. She’ll brush his hair off his face. Kiss him good morning with a smile. Then she can tell him the absurdity of it all and they can laugh about it together. Yeah. Yeah. That must be what’s going on. Then... why. Why isn’t she waking up?  

Why isn’t this bad dream going away? She cradles him in her arms. Heals the wound on his neck. Please Soril... Please. Open your eyes. Please... Please... Isn’t this supposed to be some stupid erotica plotline? Then why won’t you wake up. She holds onto Soril when Rakgar drags her somewhere. Rakgar says, 

“You look awfully pathetic right now.” Huh. A cell again. At the top of the tower in Wascald’s castle. When did she even get here? Someone’s already here. Funny. Looks like one of those pirate in a barrel game she’s once seen. Ah. What an awful noisy toy that is. She giggles,  

“Did you make that? Soril?” Then he is abruptly yanked from her arms. It’s those four morning motherfuckers,  

“Give him back!”  

“Yo. The bitch completely lost her mind.”  

“Have your fun. Cut her head off when you get bored. No reason keeping a monster alive.” she tries to get up,  

“Give him back! He’s not yours!” something’s holding her back. Shackles around her neck,  

“Give him back!” they toss him so far to be out of reach. She tries to crawl forward. She’s held down by the shoulders. Pinned to the ground. She stretches her arm out towards the bar,  

“No... Give him back.” she’s harshly slapped the cheek,  

“Where did all your defiance go? I would rather have you scream bloody murder.”  

“Who are you even? Side character number 105? Fodder number 26-” her words get choked out of her. A pair of hands strangling over her neck, it’s hard to breathe, 

“Then aren’t I lucky. Because this fodder number 26 is about to fuck the shit out of you.” her legs are violently pried apart. Something stabs inside her. It feels disgusting. She writhes away from it,  

“Don’t touch me!” he laughs,  

“Yeah. Scream. That’s more like it.”  

“Don’t touch me! I hate it! I hate this!” she turns towards Soril,  

“Soril, Soril! Help me! Stop them!” he doesn’t respond to her... why isn’t he responding to her,  

“Soril are you angry at me?” Why won't his eyes open? Where did the rest of his body go? No. No. This is a joke, right? This isn’t real, right? 

“I’m so sorry... I’m so sorry, Soril.” she gets punched across the face,  

“Shut the fuck up crazy bitch. You’re ruining it.” ah. It stings.  

“I’m so sorry. I’m sorry for dropping the dagger. This is all my fault. This is all my fault that this happened. Please forgive me, Soril. Please forgive m-” her head’s getting repeatedly slammed against the floor,  

“I said quiet!” Everything feels like it’s spinning. The stone ceiling. The dusk light pouring in from the windows is crimson red. Strange, she’s so numb she can’t even feel anything but her vision is smudging out of focus. She smells blood. Is this her blood? Is that her brains splattering out? 

“Yo. This witch really won’t die!”  

“Too bad she’s already broken. I wanted to break her myself.”  

“Ha. With your tiny dick? I bet she doesn’t even realize you’re fucking her. Have you seen the monster cock the White Ghost of Astia had when Rakgar put the rest of his body on a spike?”  

They’re so noisy. She closes her eyes. Tunes them out. Let’s herself sink, deep, deep into the darkness. She forgets time. She forgets space.  

Instead, she dreams. Dreams of what it could’ve been. If she is a mortal? Will things have been different? Will they have met? Would he like her? She imagines him in a green meadow. The wind rustling through his hair. She’ll be in a cute gown. Or maybe a white gown. A ring around her finger. What does it feel like to be married? Will that be a happy thing? What does it feel like to have a family? What does it feel like to be a wife, a mother? Will he be satisfied with her? She doesn’t know how to cook. She doesn’t know how to rear children.  

But... If they can have children, how will they look? Will they take his pretty silver hair? Or his captivating blue eyes? Will they be cute little rascals to give them headaches as they run in circles around their yard? What does it feel like to grow old with someone she loves? Watch age sag their skins. To hold hands as they gaze at the sunset? To embrace their grandchildren? There are so many things she wishes she can experience. She wants to experience.  

Perhaps if she isn’t an angel. Perhaps if she’s free to love. In a different realm, would things have played out differently? Her heart hurts. Her heart hurts... so, so much. Please... Please Soril, come back to her. She opens her eyes again. The cell is pitch black now. The four motherfuckers are gone. She turns towards his lifeless head, and she’s finally free to scream,  

“I love you! I love you so, so, much. I love you! But I’m so sorry that I did.”