A bloodied hand grabbed onto my wrist, the warm liquid staining my arm. “Evelyn, you have to go,” the boy beneath me gasped. His eyes were glazing over in pain, but he attempted a comforting smile. His jaw tightened. “It’ll be okay. If you don’t leave right now-”

I cut him off. “No, don’t talk like that. We’ll get through this together. We…we have to.”

I was sitting beside him on the now-wet grass, my trembling hands putting pressure on his wound. A wound that I had caused. One that he and I both knew would kill him. If a healer had been present, he might’ve been saved. Obviously, though, there were none in the Cult—only magical beings practicing the art of combat were allowed to enter.

Time for the boy and me was running out. The Order would be arriving soon as they had to have noticed the frightening amount of dark magic being unleashed in this area. What if they brought a healer? What if we waited for them to arrive and I explained the situation to them? Would they trust me, a Holder of the Cursed eyes? Most likely not. They’d probably slaughter me before I could get a word out, which was something I definitely deserved. But what about the boy? Would they hurt him if he tried to protect me?

The boy coughed up blood, splattering the rags he had been forced to wear upon his capture. His wrists and ankles were bruised from tight chains, and if you lifted up his shirt, you’d be greeted by several deep cuts lining his back. Maybe his death would finally put him at ease. It’d be better than being tied up in chains and left to rot alone.

Yet, I couldn’t allow him to die. I simply cared for him too much. He was the only person I could rely on during my time in the Cult; I regretted ever joining it, accepting their invitation, believing in their promises of power, and leaving my poor older sister behind, wondering if I was alive or had met my demise.

While I didn’t deserve the happiness this boy gave me, it was something I absolutely adored. If only I hadn’t been so reckless in what I did, then he’d have been left unscathed, and we could’ve run away together. We could’ve settled in Elkkehart, moved in with my sister, and led everyday lives. Yet here he was, dying in a rural field. And it was all thanks to me.

Thinking more deeply about it, could I ever return to a normal life? I was a Holder now. I would forever bear the crest of shame and disgrace. Orrith’s Gift would remain branded into my eyes until my days expired.

With my eyes and magic abilities being the way they were now, it might be better if I did leave the boy here. If the Order found him, they’d recognize who he was and take him in. They could heal him. They could save him, something I couldn’t imagine doing now. Maybe it’d have been best if I hadn’t tried saving him at all. All it led to was this, this mess of corpses littering a field, a new one about to join them in mere moments.

The boy shoved my hands away. Blood flowed steadily from the wound in his chest. “Go. I mean it. Leave me.” He gave me a long, serious look, his scarlet eyes fiercely determined despite all the pain he must’ve been in. “Go see the world for me, okay? Go help people. Be-” He coughed a few times before finishing reassuringly, “Be the person you were always meant to be, the person I know you are.”

I held his gaze, my eyes stinging with tears. “What if I don’t see you again? What if you…” I couldn’t finish the sentence. I didn’t want to acknowledge that it was a very real thing that could happen to him.

He smiled softly. “Don’t worry about that now. You know what?”

Feeling confused, I shook my head. “What?”

“I’m more at peace than I’ve ever been. But I can’t let the Order see you. We both know how that’ll end.” He sharply breathed in and said through gritted teeth, “So just go.”

Tears began to form, making everything blurry. I nodded solemnly and stood, my thin white dress drenched in his blood. The boy’s smile remained, but as soon as he saw I was really leaving, his eyes glinted for a split moment, and his expression was unreadable. My heart clenched, and for a moment, I wanted to sit back down beside him and suffer whatever consequences came to me. But he wouldn’t want that. Soon, his face calmed, and he let out a long, slow breath. His eyes dimmed slightly.

Not bearing to witness it anymore, I turned away and managed to choke out, “Goodbye.”

I didn’t meet his eyes even once as I ran forward many paces and reached the top of a hill. I looked out over the horizon. The sunset was beautiful—but why? Why did those gorgeous orange, pink, and purple hues have to be present on this day? On the day when such a significant life had been lost?

As if the Gods had heard me, the clouds in the sky moved in to block the sunlight, and a steady drizzle rained upon Aestratha. Relief washed over me; they had heard me. They understood my pain.

In a show of gratitude toward them, I began praying my thanks. I thanked the Gods for allowing me to meet the boy, for feeling happy for the first time in years, and for allowing me to be by his side as his soul began to leave this world.

I turned around and looked back at him one last time. I heard hooves pounding in the distance, a warning sign that the Order would arrive soon.

However, all I could do was pay attention to him. The boy lay unmoving in the blood-soaked grass, his body beginning to blend in with the corpses strewn about the field. I knew at that moment that the boy I had befriended was gone.

Being unable to hold it in any longer, I began to cry for the first time in years. I fell to my knees and sobbed, clutching at my heart, a heart that had felt so much over these past couple of months. Tears streamed down my face. Why did loving someone have to be so painful?

Amid all this heartbreak, I gave one final farewell. Goodbye, my friend. Wait for me up there, okay?