Chapter 7 #2
“Elivienne is not back. You knew something was wrong, didn’t you? Is your title not enough? You had to take her from me as some sort of vindication. Yet, I am expected to believe –” Cedric flips the wooden piece – “that none of this was a personal pursuit for you.”
My heart races and I sink against the small wall across from the doorway, my body numb to the elements. The scene before me makes no sense, yet the words are landing true.
Sawyer would not answer my questions. Sawyer, the stranger who practically appeared at the village, who disappeared for days at a time supposedly for trade trips. He toyed with my knowledge, my reality. And now, he seems to relish in the fact.
I trusted him.
I have no idea what is going on.
My body stopped shivering, I think. It occurs to me now, as I wipe tears from my cheeks for the third or fourth time today, that I will not be going home.
Cedric keeps his predatory walk and grabs for Sawyer’s neck like a vice. I try to hold back my scream because he will kill him. He is going to kill him. Viewing only from the side, I can practically feel his malevolence like flames from a fire.
Sawyer’s face slowly ombres red to purple as Cedric drags his form up the stone wall and blood begins to leak from the corners of his eyes from the pressure. I look around for a weapon, anything to save Sawyer from this hell, this barbarous ending.
“It was, wasn’t it?” Cedric yells into his face. “SAY IT, DAMN YOU!”
I glance up right as Sawyer’s lips pull into a grin. Right as Cedric plunges the wooden leg into his chest, into the stone, leaving him hanging from the wall from his midsection.
My jaw unhinges and stretches from the silent gasps for air because I can’t… I can’t make a sound. He will kill me next.
Blood pours like a fountain from Sawyer’s chest and Cedric seethes in his face, his fangs brutally close to Sawyer’s neck. He twists the wood and my stomach twists with it.
The sheer brutality makes me sick in a pot next to me.
Something Sawyer whispers causes a lapse in pressure and he capitalizes off it.
In a swift kick, he launches Cedric across the space.
His hand wraps around the splintered wood now soaked with his essence.
Veins pop on his temple and I can see his jaw straining as he pulls the stake free.
I realize then that if Sawyer were a human, he would have perished at the beginning of this brawl.
The king’s body slams onto the ground, cracks forming around him.
Blood leaks from his ears but he rises back up to meet Sawyer’s attacks.
The males begin brawling on the floor again, leaving destruction and blood in their wake.
Sawyer slams chalices into Cedric. The noise reverberates off the walls.
The two lose words as they attack like seasoned warriors.
For every throw there is a block, every kick, a jump to match.
Growls sound from their throats. Suddenly, Cedric gets the upper hand, grappling Sawyer from behind and wrapping one arm around his neck, the other coming up to apply counterpressure.
The two stop their fighting and look up at me. I’ve managed to crawl to the doorway, pure pain wreaking through my body.
“Liv,” Sawyer grunts through the chokehold.
“Damn you,” Cedric growls, pushing Sawyer – his brother – off. He crawls to a stand, running his hands through his hair and looking me once over.
Standing outside of the destroyed room, I can’t hold back the tears flowing from me.
“Liv,” Sawyer says again and I catch his eyes. So much betrayal fills the air and I wish I could suffocate on it and be done with it. Perhaps it is not betrayal, but grief. Grief for the life I knew and loved, which has been stolen from me. Grief for the man I thought loved me.
Grief in all shapes.
“You knew,” I barely manage. “Who are you?” Let him answer this question and be done with it.
Seconds pass and he doesn’t.
He doesn’t answer the question.
He doesn’t answer the question. A distant humming in the back of my mind makes the moment blur before my eyes. Cedric strides to me quickly, worry and shame pressing hard lines into his face. Behind him, Sawyer leans against his knee, not moving towards me at all.
“You shouldn’t be here,” the king states as cuts on his face begin to close before my eyes.
“P–Please, I want to go home,” I stammer. “Just let me go.”
He hardens his features. “This is home – Liv.”
“No, it’s not. I–I don’t know, I don’t know who I am. Am I Elivienne? Am I not Liv?” My hands find their place on my face as I try to conceal the weak tears pouring out.
Through the spaces between my hands, a hand appears before me, covered in blood and dirt, rough with calluses, but inviting.
“Please,” Cedric says, not meeting my eyes; his word hides a larger request. To trust. He speaks again.
“The male behind me is not who you think he is and I believe you know that now.” Darkness floats around his shoulders and I gasp but he holds true.
“If you would allow me to, I can try to help. Only if you allow it.”
I look over to Sawyer once more, pleading for him to step in, to wake me from this dream. To tell me he has not been a part of a huge game. Anything to quell the fear that the one person I thought was with me always is actually not at all.
But he gives me nothing.
Perhaps he always has.
With instincts of self-preservation fighting behind a steel gate, I place my hand in Cedric’s. His hand is so much larger than mine but the gentleness in his clasp settles me a bit. He leads me forward down the hall and I follow, my legs moving of their own fruition.
Leaving Sawyer alone.
I don’t look back.