Chapter 27: Chapter 27

The moon glowed brightly upon them and she lifted her eyes up. Sometimes, she wondered if it was the same moon that glowed in Zinambra, glowed in other places of the world. And even in Zinambra, the shade of the moon in the Mourtzur was different with the shades she saw in the other places. She turned to look at Betla that stood in front of the fire bubbling from the huge holes, her eyes gleaming with the sheen of the fire. “What do you need now, Betla?” She asked softly, aware of Lorcán’s eyes that were fixed on her, she wasn’t ready yet.

Everything was set, this had always been her routine and she was used to it that she knew with her eyes closed, she could do everything perfectly alright. Betla lifted her eyes from the glowing fire and Aranya knew it was time to have Lorcán moved over there. If it were another man, he would think that they were ready to be wedded, it should be time she would be pronounced as his wife. But this was Lorcán, and he knew everything. Well, if not everything, he knew that this wasn’t a wedding, this would be his death, wrapped in the beauty of red and fire.

“You two should come forward.” Aranya felt a thud in her heart as she heard Betla spoke those words. She knew what this meant, she should get ready to dive her sword into Lorcán’s chest and watched his blood drip into the fire. She clenched her eyes shut and felt as Lorcán entwined their hands and she looked up at him.

“I can’t do this, Lorcán,” she whispered, but instead of an answer, Lorcán only squeezed her hand and they moved forward. With each step they took, she was sure that both their heart threatened to burst out of their sockets and she doubted if she could be able to do this. If she could walk to the hole that bubbled with fire which she knew would bring an end to the warmth she was feeling now.

They stood by the fire with Betla standing opposite them, she wanted to throw up. Betla glared at their entwined hands and Aranya nearly groaned when she felt the absence of his hand in hers. The sword appeared into her hand, that magical sword that could kill her and Betla and whoever it is she had dived the edge of the sword into.

“I order you to make a sacrifice with his blood, to me, Aranya.” She heard the echo of Betla’s voice and shivered, this was ever the way she made her do it. It was always as if she was getting married to them, and hearing this made it seem more real than she had wanted to believe it was.

She took a step toward him, he had his eyes pinned intensely on her face, wanting to see her reaction. With each step she took toward him, the only thing she remembered was the day she had killed Jaromir. How he stood the exact place Lorcán now stood, with Betla in the same position she was. How he was smiling widely at her and the eagerness that wasn’t going to be dulled in his eyes. At some point at that day, she felt as though that was the greatest betrayal she was ever going to do in her life, and the most painful one of them, not knowing that there would be a day which she would have to choose between Lorcán and her life.

She stood in front of him, the only distance between them was the one that would give her the ability to dive the sword into his stomach, perfectly. Her eyes roamed through his and she ignored the burning look of Betla on her body. She could feel the way the fire in her veins was rustling and trying so hard to burn her skin, but she was trying all she could to tame it down, she knew this was Betla’s doing.

“Now!” Betla roared, making the trees surrounding them and also the moon echo with the timbre of her voice. Aranya abruptly turned to look at her, she saw the darkness she had always seen in Betla’s eyes, the fire; that was unquenchable, and today there was uncertainty. Aranya was sure it was because she wasn’t sure if she was going to do as she wanted or not. Which she too herself wasn’t sure of.

She nodded her head and turned her face back to Lorcán and when he smiled at her, she recalled exactly how it felt when Jaromir smiled at her while she moved toward him, and it felt as though it was happening right now.

She had a smile on her face, a beautiful one even though if Jaromir could look past the charm exuding from her face, he might as well see the fakeness she had accommodated, right? When she looked up at him, he was grinning widely at her, which she was sure he was silently praying that she would be able to see his eagerness.

The chorus of Betla as she read out the fake rituals of their marriage went to her ears unheard for she had something more important on her mind, she was thinking about Lorcán. How must it have felt to have him with her now? How must it have felt to have him staring opposite her with this wide smile and eagerness on his face knowing in a few minutes she would be his wife? She didn’t know her feelings for him yet, or what she would feel if she was ever going to see him in her life again, but she knew that she would be excited.

“You may kiss the bride.” The moment those words fell into her ears, she knew what Betla meant. ‘You may kiss the bride’ was the same as ‘Take out your sword’ and she knew it was telling her that she should kill him, make the sacrifice under the glowing moon. He was a blood of power, after all.

She watched as Jaromir gingerly moved toward her and when he placed his hand on her chin, his grin was almost touching his ears. “I'm so happy, Verena, I can’t believe you’re finally my wife.”

She smiled at him, nodding her head, trying all she could to return his enthusiasm. “I’m so happy too, Jaromir.” I’m giving my mother the power to avenge on what she has lived all these years for, she wished she could tell him the real fact of why she was excited.

“I love you, Verena, I love you so much.” And he sealed their lips without a single word. Aranya felt the way he hungrily kissed her and passionately and the next thing he felt was her sword diving directly onto his heart, she clenched her eyes shut because she didn't want to see the look of betrayal, of pain and doubt in his eyes, she didn’t want to feel guilty after all these is over.

She felt as he tightly held her shoulders, seeking for strength and support and maybe if she could ease the pain. But Aranya dived it more into his heart and with one final squeeze, she felt as he growled painfully and his whole body collapsed onto her body before Betla moved to where they were and she took hold of his body.

She flashed her a wide smile as she positioned his body in such a way that directly from the hole Aranya had created in his heart, all his blood will cascade down to the fire rustling below them and Aranya took a few steps back. “You did well, Aranya.”

She felt his lips on hers and that brought her out of her own reverie and she quickly opened her eyes. She was sure that Betla didn’t ask him to kiss her, did? But later when she turned her eyes to look at Betla, she understood the look in them. She wanted to make things easier for her, the same way she was used to taking their souls, right? But the only difference was that, she could not kill Lorcán.

He broke their lips when he felt how cold she had turned and placed his head on her shoulder, “Do it, Aranya.” He whispered, and she felt as he wrapped his hands tightly around her waist as though bracing himself for the pain that will welcome his entire body.

Aranya lifted the sword and placed it onto his chest, not looking up at his face but her whole body was shaking. She dived the edge into his chest and there was a spurt of blood and with one last pull into his heart, it would be someone and never him. She quickly pulled the sword out of his chest and turned to look at Betla, frantically.

“I’m sorry, Betla.” She said as she shook her head and before any of the duo to know what she was trying to do, she tightly held Lorcán’s wrist and they disappeared along with the smoke the fire created. They appeared in a vast forest that had nothing in it but the tall and dark green trees that would have scared her if she was in her right senses, but not today.

The moment she released his hand, panting for breath, Lorcán moved toward her but she took a step back and when they did that twice, she looked up at him with nothing but fire in her eyes that one could never tell those eyes had once looked human. She was a monster, after all.

“Don’t come near me, or I'll kill you, Lorcán!” She was trembling and her breath was hitching, she knew it was no one’s work but Betla. Within, it felt as though her fire had been turned to a poison and it was slowly burning her, she was feeling so much pain that she didn’t know what she would do to ease it for herself.

“You're in pain, Aran-” he walked towards her yet again but before he came closer, she had howled loudly.

“Get away from me!!!” She howled dangerously, the air and fire she had spurted out of her lips taking him farther away from her, where she knew he would be safe from herself.

Lorcán stood from where he was, she had caged him with her fire. But she was in pain, she didn’t have to admit to that before he could know that she was in pain. Her face was slowly transforming from the beautiful face it once was to the monstrous face he had never seen in his life.

He kept trying to get out of her cage but feeling it’s strength, Lorcán knew she had used so much power to seal him up and he knew it was because she wanted to protect him. Her whole face was transformed into that of a wolf, and not her beautiful self when she had turned into a wolf, but the dangerous kind of wolves. She had fire spurting from her mouth as she howled nonstop, wincing in so much pain.

Lorcán palmed his face, he wished he could ease her pain. Why did she have to do that? Was she going to do? Is her mother going to give her a second chance or she was going to kill her right at this moment? The fact that they had already left Zinambra wasn’t enough, he knew how much power her mother had over her.

He forcefully tapped on the cage and tried to break through it. He felt it broken, and before he took the next step toward a howling, monstrous Aranya, she had fell down with her wolf’s head a glowing amber of fire. He ran toward her and when he knelt beside her body, her head was slowly transforming back to the face of Aranya he knew and fell in love with. But when he touched her, there was no sign of life in her, and he had never felt as agitated as he did at the moment.

“Aranya, you can’t die in my stead!” He screamed at the pitch of his voice and he heard the way the whole forest echoed with his grief.