Elise sat in her room, waiting for the end. She couldn’t sleep, couldn’t cry, couldn’t do anything except for agonize over what she’d tried to do. And who’d stopped her.
The scenario ran through her head over and over, no matter how hard she tried to stop thinking about it. The arsenic bottle, the utter calm that came with the resignation to do one’s duty, the hand on hers. The pleading look in his eyes as he told her to put it down. Promised that he’d never say anything about it as long as she did. Elise hadn’t believed that promise in the moment, and she didn’t. And yet, she’d obeyed him. She’d set the bottle down and walked away. General Fleischer would live on to terrorize more of her country. Finn would likely receive some sort of commendation. Where did that leave her? On lockdown, afraid for the moment when someone was going to open that door and drag her out to the firing squad.
Elise didn’t know what to do. She wanted to make herself right before the Gods, but she knew full well they wouldn’t let her see a priest. When she thought back to her family, she either thought back to her father’s body or her worry for Milo, who was about to be in the tick of an invasion without a family to go home to. Thinking about what might lay on the other side of the veil brought fear, wondering if there even was something after that life. And thinking about what the future held just made her wonder if she would face her death bravely, or if she would beg for mercy.
It was hard to think about anything. All it did was remind her that, just a few days earlier, everything had been fine. No war, no Giskens; all of that had been far away, something that had happened in Kurzh. Something that couldn’t happen to Caithia, or to Thaos.
She wished she’d been right about that.
Eventually, she went and sat by her window. She had one task on her mind: escape. Climb out the window and run as fast as she could down the road toward Airde.
She knew that was an impossible dream the second she looked out the window. Just in that alleyway that separated the tavern and the blacksmith’s shop, there were four men guarding it, two on each end. They were alert, ready for any trouble that might come their way.
Elise’s room felt like it was closing in around her. She couldn’t escape, not on her own. It felt like those walls – the very one that had protected her all her life – would suffocate her before the Gisken could even get to her.
It was around dinner time that someone knocked on and opened her door.
Fear gripped her heart. The time had come.
Finn was on the other side of the door. He wasn’t accompanied by men with guns; he didn’t even have one on him. Instead, he held a plate with rice, gravy, and chunks of chicken in one hand, with utensils in the other.
Her stomach began to growl. She hadn’t realized she was so hungry.
“I have your dinner,” he said. Quietly. Not even able to look her in the eye. “You’re probably hungry.”
Elise took the plate and utensils. “Thank you.”
He gave a curt nod, then turned to leave.
“Does he know?” She couldn’t hold the question any longer.
It stopped Finn dead in his tracks. He winced, didn’t turn to look at her. That was all the answer she needed.
The betrayal cut deep, even if it was what she’d expected. “You promised. You said that if I put the bottle down, nobody would ever know.”
He finally turned around to face her. The sad look on his face did nothing to calm the cold anger that was seeping through her veins. “He saw you, Elise. He was on the verge of putting me in front of a firing squad for not reporting it immediately. I know that you don’t believe me, but I tried.”
He was right: she didn’t believe him. How could she?
“What happens now?” Elise asked.
Finn looked down at his feet.
Elise’s grip on the plate tightened. She knew what that meant, but the fact that he refused to say it out loud like a coward made her blood boil. “Say something; why won’t you answer me?”
Finally, he looked back up at her. “You’re being executed. Tomorrow morning.”
The news hit like a punch in the gut. Even though she knew full well it was coming.
“I’m sorry,” Finn said quietly. “Truly, I am.”
She wished she could believe him. Wished she could believe the sorrow on his face was for her. She knew better, though; he was probably just thinking about how close he’d come to being in her position.
“Can I see a priest?” Elise asked. It was barely above a whisper: her throat was tying itself into knots.
“I’ll see what I can do,” Finn said.
She wasn’t exactly holding her breath.
Elise set her plate down on her desk. It might as well have been a plate of rotten meat; she’d lost her appetite. “I’m sure you have other duties to attend to.”
Finn didn’t move. Didn’t say anything for a few seconds. “Elise, I-“
She looked back up at him. “Don’t. Please; just don’t.”
Finn’s back stiffened. He winced.
He turned around and walked out.
She let out a breath she hadn’t even realized she was holding. It was happening: that would be her last night in that world.
She put a hand over her mouth before anyone could hear her crying. It was finally hitting her, like a brick wall coming down on top of her. She had twelve hours left to live, and all she could do was sit there and wait.
“Lords and ladies of heaven, hear my prayer,” she whispered. “Please help me: I don’t want to die! Help me find a way out of this!”
She didn’t hear an answer.
***
Ulrick was going to die there.
He could feel it in his gut. And everywhere else. Pin and needles – the tell-tale sign of his Blessing crawling up his skin – extended all the way up his arms and had started to invade his chest. Any injury beyond a bruise would likely be enough to kill him. Blair, of course, seemed intent on testing it.
“Getting quiet, there,” Blair commented, halting the whip for a few precious seconds. “Don’t tell me you’re already getting tired.”
Ulrick’s mind barely processed what Blair was saying. It felt like his head was underwater. Everything seemed like it was moving at a snail’s pace, and he was seeing multiple of everything. Every noise seemed muffled. He was vaguely aware of the fact that his back was dripping in blood, but all he could think about was the pain. Every part of him hurt from days of constant torture. It was all he could do to stay away: he knew full well that if he went unconscious, he wasn’t going to wake back up.
Blair walked around front and began to pace back and forth. “You know, Dr. Braun has a theory about you and your little Blessing. We already know that your skin blackens a little more the more you use it. Like a dead limb. Dr. Braun seems to think you’ll die when it reaches your heart. You wouldn’t happen to know if that’s true, would you?”
Ulrick didn’t say anything.
Blair smirked and stopped his pacing. “You think so, too. Well, I don’t know if you’ve noticed or not, but that blackness has just about reached your heart. I don’t think it’ll take much for me to kill you.” He began pacing, again. “I have orders to keep you alive until the end of the week, but how was I to know that breaking every bone in both of your hands would kill you?” He stopped pacing and looked up at Ulrick. “What do you say, Watchman? Should I kill you now, or should I kill you later?”
Ulrick’s vision began to dim. He began blinking, desperate to fend off the darkness that threatened to swallow him whole.
“You’re fading now, aren’t you?” Blair asked, taking a step towards him. “Tell me: what does it feel like to be so close to the end?”
A voice in Ulrick’s head ordered him to keep fighting, reminded him of the people that needed him to come back: his ma, his sisters. His fellow soldiers, who may not even know that the border had been breached, or that the king was dead. Marion. That voice, too, was muffled: he could barely make it out. He could barely make anything out. His mind registered Blair’s voice, but not any of the words he was saying.
Ulrick’s eyes began to close against his will. The names of people he cared about ran through his mind: Ma, Pa, Mina, Sarah, Eza, Silas, Marion, Elise.
I’m sorry: please forgive me!
His eyes closed.
And then he was falling.
Down.
Down.
Down.
The sensation felt as if he were being dragged to the bottom of a river. It was a familiar sensation: he’d felt it when he drank the Godswater to become a Watchman.
It was the sensation of dying.
Eventually, he stopped falling. He didn’t land on anything, though: he just… stopped moving. He felt like he was standing upright, but he didn’t have his feet planted on anything: he just floated in the dark, murky abyss.
And then, in the blink of an eye, she was standing there: flowing brown hair, sleeveless white gown, a belt of wildflowers around her hips, a disposition that immediately put him at ease. Caithe, the mother goddess.
She smiled. Warmly. In a way only a mother proud of her child could manage. “Hello, Ulrick.”
“Is that it, then?” Ulrick asked. “Am I dead?”
“Not quite,” Caithe said. “You were right, by the way: once the death hits your heart, you’ll die.”
I should’ve been more careful.
“You did well, Ulrick,” Caithe said. “You did exactly what you swore to do with your Blessing: help others.”
Caithe turned her head to the side. Ulrick did, as well. He was looking down on what was happening in his prison cell. He hung there, lifeless, back covered in bleeding welts from the lashes. Body beaten to a pulp. Blair looked up at him, uncaring.
“Life has not been kind to you in the past couple years,” she said. “You’ve done well with the cards you were dealt. You’ve fought bravely, shown unparalleled loyalty and selflessness. Your body still has some fight left in it, though not much. You may continue on, or I can take you to the Fields of Rest.”
Ulrick had to admit: he was tempted. He was tired. So, so tired. He’d spent nearly five years fighting. Fighting for his family, for his country, for his friends. The Blight had nearly killed him, had killed some of his friends. People had turned their backs on him. He’d been starved, cold, scared. He wanted it all to finally be done. To just sit somewhere and close his eyes without having to worry about getting attacked. He didn’t want to tell another family that their son had been killed without being able to tell them what had killed him. He wanted it all to just… stop.
But, even as he thought about it, that same list of names ran through his head: Ma, Pa, Mina, Sarah, Eza, Silas, Marion, Elise. What would they do if he died? Ma, Mina, and Sarah would be devastated, but wouldn’t be able to say anything about it around Pa, who’d claimed his son was dead when he enlisted. Eza and Silas would find some to make his death their faults, and though they’d never show or admit it, it would eat them up inside. Marion had just lost both of her parents: losing someone else he loved would kill her. Elise would be stuck in Thaos, left to mourn her father and survive an occupation on her own. Because of him.
No, he couldn’t rest. Not now. Not when people still needed him.
“I’ll keep going,” Ulrick said, looking back at Caithe. “I still have some wrongs to make right.”
Caithe nodded, then looked back to him. “Do you remember what I told you when you first came to me?”
“That it’s impossible to save the whole world?”
“That’s right,” Caithe said. “Don’t try to save everyone. Maybe let someone else save you, every once and awhile.” She put a hand on his shoulder. Gentle. “Keep fighting, Ulrick: every storm passes.”
Caithe closed her eyes.
Ulrick felt a kick to his chest.
He opened his eyes, gasping for breath.
He was on the floor of his cell, pain radiating from every inch of his body. Blair was standing over him, holding a bucket. He was cold, shivering from the freezing water that had just been dumped on him.
Ulrick was back. For better or worse.
“You were dead,” Blair said. “I checked: you didn’t have a pulse for five minutes. Dumping water on you shouldn’t have worked. Why did it?”
Ulrick didn’t say anything: he kept his jaw clenched to keep himself from chattering.
“It’s part of your Blessing, isn’t it?” Blair asked, squatting. “Can all Watchmen do it?”
Silence.
Blair sighed and stood back up straight. “You should’ve kept that little quirk of yours to yourself, Watchman: I’ve got to kill you over and over, now. I’ve got to see how many times you can pull off that little trick before you’re gone for good.” He pulled out a beat-up pocket watch and checked it. “Lucky for you, though, I’ve got somewhere I need to be.” He shoved his watch back in his pocket. “Get some rest. Or don’t: I guess it doesn’t matter, since you’re going to die tomorrow.”
He walked out of the cell, locking Ulrick in behind him.
For a few seconds, Ulrick simply lay there, the silence screaming in his ears. He’d almost died. Had died: Caithe had given him one last chance. And Blair was going to torture him to death to see if he’d be able to revive a second time.
One more night. That was all the time he had left on that side of the veil, unless he managed to escape. An impossible task if he didn’t have help.
Ulrick squeezed his eyes shut, before he could start crying. Caithe should’ve just taken him when Blair killed him: death would’ve been better than an entire night spent wishing he could hug his family one last time.
He wasn’t certain how long he spent laying there, but eventually, the door opened, again.
Ulrick braced himself. Don’t let him see you scared!
The person on the other side of the door wasn’t Blair. It was a girl, with black hair cropped short, ivory skin, and unnaturally blue eyes. She wore a gray uniform, the same one that he’d been wearing before Blair found him.
Eza
He tried to sit up, but immediately laid back down.
She rushed over to him and sat him up. The world immediately tilted to one side, and he almost fell back over.
“Damn you, Ulrick,” she said softly. “How many times are you going to let yourself get hurt like this before you figure out how to fight back?”
“I’m sorry,” he mumbled. “He told me to leave, but I should’ve stayed. I never should’ve left him there…”
“We can save that self pity for when we’re far away from here,” Eza said. Helping Ulrick to his feet. “Can you walk?”
He pushed himself up, standing on his own. He wobbled, but he stayed standing.
“We have to stop b the tavern,” Ulrick said.
Eza snorted as she began not lead Ulrick out. “Starting to sound like Silas, now.”
“I’m serious,” Ulrick said. “I would be dead without this girl, and now, she’s paying for it.”
“Always gotta find someone to save, even when you’re the one needing it.” She sighed. “If it gets too risky, we leave without her: got it?”
Ulrick nodded.
“Come on, then: we don’t have a lot of time before the Giskens get wise.”
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