Chapter 643: An Elf’s Tale, Part 4

Her head jerked upwards.

A blinding incandescent white.

She could see nothing, hear nothing, feel nothing... nothing but the scorching pain setting her skin ablaze in light.

‘Don’t let go’, she shouted to herself in her head, forcing her body to comply with the impossible demand. The earth had completely disappeared from under her feet, entombed within a blinding abyss of agony where even the very air itself seemed to have been siphoned away.

Her throat stung, but she did not remember screaming. Her eyes burned but she did not remember crying. On her lips, the taste of iron, coating it, dripping down. Her legs were falling. Death was night.

‘Don’t let go’

Then, she felt something, a blink, and suddenly she was returned to the courtyard, the burning, blazing, blistering pain ebbing away like rippling calming tides.

.....

She blinked again, stamping out the thin blades of grass that were poking at her eyelids, face-first on the ground, feeling her lips in a glazed mixture of blood and dirt. Writhing, squirming, the blue sky spinning, the light was fading... and her hand was outstretched, empty... laid sprawled across the inner edge of a glowing blue rune.

From the silence fading, a voice was emerging, speaking, casually and frighteningly stating, “You let go.”

Wilvur was standing exactly where she had seen him last, an empty smile on his face, his hand still extended. His scarlet eyes looked down at her, and it was all Eshwlyn could see now as she struggled to pull herself upright in a daze, swallowing down the breeze as the cold blew at her sweat-ridden face.

“What was that, Eshwlyn?” Wilvur asked, more concerned than he was enraged. A reaction she least expected. “What happened there?”

“A-A mistake,” Eshwlyn managed to sputter out, rubbing the blood away and staggering to her feet, attempting to keep steady her balance and consciousness that were both on the verge of slipping. “It was... I don’t... Master, it won’t happen again. I promise you.”

“I certainly hope not...” He nodded, smiling wider at her, then flicked his gaze to the old Magus standing nearby. “Well then, you heard my Knight. Once more, if you would.”

“Barely a quarter into the process itself, and she has already faltered,” the Magus said to him. “Surely, Wilvur, a man of your intellect, the implications of it did not escape you.”

“This has happened before,” Wilvur calmly stated. “The first attempt does not always come to fruition. This is not abnormal. I know of many great Knights that have only come to be due to being given the benefit of a second chance.”

“Yes, provided they survive the first,” The old Magus pointed out. “And provided they are sufficiently rested after and-”

“I wish to give my Knight a second chance,” He cut across from him, turning back to Eshwlyn with the sincerity lost from his smile. “With all due respect, Girian, please... simply just do as you’re told, won’t you?”

The Magus hid his disapproval beneath his hood, expelling a sigh, as he readied both sphere and book in both hands. “Very well. At the brightest hue of blue. Once more.”

As Eshwlyn raised a quivering arm forward again, she happened to look up at the silent audience, seeing the disparaging stares of more than dozen staring down at her, all with the exception of a single one. Terra was as pale as snow, no longer able to hide the terror and worry forming on her face, but also as well unable to look away.

“Eshwlyn,” Wilvur called out to her, and she turned back, noticing the smile had gone from his lips. “Do your best.”

From anyone else, it would have sounded assuring, supportive, comforting even... but this was Wilvur, and Eshwlyn could hear it for what it truly was-a warning.

The ring shifted in intensity, another bright blue shining, consuming even the light of day. Eshwlyn grabbed his hand again and held tight.

It was now even worse than before. A rupturing of all her senses, like a burning blade stabbing into her skin, her bones, her soul. The same bright white blinded her, coating her hand and spreading to her arm, like a parasite of light latching onto her threatening to consume her whole.

She forced herself to persevere, even as her strength withered, even as her legs buckled, her knees landing hard onto the earth-she didn’t let go. Her lungs were being diminished of air as her shrill screams died away into fading echoes, but she couldn’t breathe. The pain was suffocating her, choking her, and everything was suddenly heavy, the light encasing her was intensely weighty, and she could feel herself sinking to the soil as it continued to spread.

Then, as it began to ravage at her chest-it stopped, disappeared, as her arm swung loosely to her side before falling limp amongst the swaying grass. In vain, she tried to rise, shifting, impelling her feet upwards, before the last sliver of energy left her body... and instead, she felt the impact, the hard thud as she collapsed onto the ground.

But no... she mustn’t falter, mustn’t fall... mustn’t fail.

“M-Master, no, I... w-wait, Master, please... I can... I...” She stirred, slurring and whimpering, only for the rest of her words to be smothered as she spat out mouthfuls of blood, collapsing again

She couldn’t see in the slightest, the world gradually changing into a fading black, but she could hear him, and she heard him shifting in place, heard him lowering himself closer, and she could also hear the heaviness in his breath.

“This... this is your extent, is it?” Wilvur’s voice was unnervingly quiet. “All those proclamations of yours of loyalty, devotion, faith-this is how far it goes, hm?”

“No, no, Master, please...” She continued to sputter in the dark. “I can... I beg you again... I-I won’t fail again. Please, Master, please...”

“Oh, but you will...” She felt him lift her chin, perching it between fingers, her bleary sights fainty aligning with the harsh red in his eyes. “You’re dying, Eshwlyn. You’re choosing to die, you’re choosing to fail.”

“Master, please... no... no, Master... never, I...”

“But you know what I think? I don’t think this is truly you at your furthest extent. No, far from it even. Yes, I know exactly just how far you would go for others. I’ve seen it for myself. Otherwise, you wouldn’t even be here, would you?”

Wilvur raised his thumb and wiped away the blood from her lips, and all the while Eshwlyn continue to stutter senselessly, futilely, “Don’t...” she whispered over and over to him.

“Don’t?” He cocked a brow. “Don’t what, Eshwlyn? Just what do you think I am about to do?”

“Don’t... don’t, please... Master, no...”

“Do you know the true reason why I was late just then? Why, at such a pivotal moment of my life, I was not already present here at the sign of dawn? It’s not for a lack of rest, let me tell you.”

“Master, please...”

“It’s because your sister was quite the elusive little Elf, you see,” Wilvur said. “While you were here trying to convince yourself that your loyalty truly does belong to me. My men were putting your dear Lenora into my custody, and apparently suspecting it already, she led them onto quite the chase. I had to tend to the problem personally in order to resolve it... and what a fight she put up, indeed. It’s almost admirable.”

Eshwlyn felt her feeble heart give a beat. Her worst fears, her waking nightmare, what she swore she’d never let happen. It was now reality, it has now happened.

“Understand what I’ve done is only out of pure necessity. Had you just simply allowed your allegiance to fall to my possession, I assure you, nothing would have come of it. I would have let your sister go, untouched, unharmed along with my sincerest apologies. But now... now, you must understand, you’ve failed me twice already... I ask you, what exactly am I to do now than what is necessary? What is about to happen, I just want to remind you that you were given a second chance, that I really did believe you wanted to be loyal. But unfortunately, you just aren’t. Now, I shall resolve that personally.”

Wilvur drew his hand away, standing back up, and desperately Eshwlyn attempted to follow, trying to seize at him, trying to stop him, “No, Master! Leave her out of this, please! I won’t fail again! One more time! Please!” yet her hands only manage to seize the empty air, falling over to the ground once more.

“It is much too late, Eshwlyn,” Wilvur said, waving a commanding hand into the air. “It was my misjudgment to think that your loyalty to me stems out of anything but your obligation to your sister. It was my mistake, my impatience, that skewered your sense of devotion. But now it is my opportunity to rectify that mistake.”

Then, barging out from the loud rattle of swinging doors, a pair of red-hooded guards emerged into the courtyard, carrying with them a small figure bound in rope. The cluttered sway of white locks, the glow of green eyes- and Eshwlyn instantly felt her voice swell above the pain.

“LENORA!”

In a clutter of white hair, in a streak of glowing green eyes, Eshwlyn watched them toss her hard onto the ground, landing at the very edge of the circle, the gleaming mixture of white and blue revealing a completely vacant expression on her face, seemingly lifeless... a familiar emptiness.

“NO! LENORA NO!”

Lenora just looked on at her sister, unstirring to her cries, unresponsive to the sound of her name, and her unseeing gaze tarnished with the hollow stare of Subjugation.

“This... this little accursed child,” Wilvur rounded over to Lenora, throwing her a contemptuous leer while carelessly treading upon locks of her hair. “The root cause of this problem. If not for her, Eshwlyn, if not for her... I should have taken my time, I should have drawn your loyalty through other means. But it’s as I said, my impatience has rendered me blind to rationality. Tilina was right. She always usually is, you know?”

“Leave her alone...” Eshwlyn pleaded, unable to garner the strength to even move. “Please, don’t do this. I will be loyal. I will be good. Please, I will be good. I will do anything!”

“Precisely, Eshwlyn!” He exclaimed, shuffling back towards her into the center. “And that is why Tilina is wrong about you! You will do anything! You can do anything! For you are the greatest, the strongest, the very best of your kind! Which is why I know you will be able to convince yourself, you will muster the conviction to finally, truly devote yourself to me! You just require the proper... motivation, and I shall gladly provide it to you.”

Wilvur then proceeded to nod his head at both guards, and at once, they both extended their hands out towards Lenora’s body. Eshwlyn felt a strong sensation begin to permeate through the vicinity.

And it happened, then.

Lenora began to shout. Indescribable agony filled her shrill cries echoing into the air. She was squirming helplessly, her body curving into the air, throwing the back of her head into the hard earth, and Eshwlyn could do nothing but watch in horror and plead, her own cries blending in with her little sister’s harrowing screams.

“NO! STOP! PLEASE STOP! MASTER, DON’T LET THEM! PLEASE MAKE THEM STOP! MAKE IT STOP!”

“You make it stop, Eshwlyn!” Wilvur shouted back at her, his expression contorted with suppressed rage. “You! Only you can resolve this on your own! It is time for you to choose who it is exactly you live your life for! Choose, Eshwlyn!”

He thrust his hand out at her again, a maddened glint to his scarlet eyes.

“Would it be me, Eshwlyn?!” He asked, nearly overpowered by more shrilling cries, the sufferings of a child, to which he could only express nothing but a cruel, demented smile. “Or her?”

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