Eternal Night

(III) Chapter 30: Carry Me

Francesca never could have prepared herself for the feeling.

Was this what it was like to feel a blood-bond break?

It was overwhelming – a kind of agony so deeply seated inside of her, it was as if someone had reached into her very soul and had taken to literally shredding it to ribbons – a long, slow rending of fabric. And yet, she wasn't even the one experiencing it firsthand. What she was feeling were just the echoes of it. Her heart ached painfully within her constricted chest as Vladislaus' agony washed over her. He couldn't seem to help it. This was unendurable – the idea of him in this much pain, of these two men on either side of her dying because they had been trying to save her, to spare her.

"NO!" she shouted defiantly to the darkness.

The war surrounding her meant nothing now, the sound of clashing sides utterly lost to her as she burrowed deep inside of that well of power within her. She couldn't anchor herself to Vladislaus now – and only God knew where Lyra was. And so Frankie tethered herself to herself once again, but deeper this time – and with hands outstretched over the rapidly fading Jack and Antón, she unleashed that power within.

She was beyond exhausted, but she would accept no limits, no boundaries.

There was nothing she could not do.

If she had to physically hold their souls to this plane of existence, by Heaven and Hell, she would do it – consequences be damned. And so with an iron-clad will, she emptied that well inside of her, poured out every ounce of power she possessed as she clung to the souls of both men, willing them to live, to somehow survive. It took everything in her, stretched her so thin so rapidly, her breath seized as the world started to blur around her, a strange gray mist bleeding into the corners of her vision.

To her secret relief, both men did linger, but the bonds between them and Dracula only continued to dissolve and their wounds refused to heal.

"Francesca," Jack whimpered weakly, eyes half-open as he looked up at her. The woman was glowing with a fury and power the likes of which none had ever seen before. Her eyes were like windows into a newborn galaxy, endless constellations – infinitely black and dusted with starlight. Her aura burned violet as her hands flared white, fingers clenched into fists as if she were holding fast to both of them. She didn't even feel the tears streaming down her cheeks.

"I won't let you go," she insisted through gritted teeth.

Jack smiled a little before his eyes slipped fully shut, the decay that had begun to take hold in his chest starting to expand.

No, her soul cried out and she clung harder to him, willing him to stay, refusing to allow him the chance to give way to true death. But then she realized that her tightening grip on Jack meant her hold on Bernardini was weakening as consequence and she began to panic.

"I won't lose either of you," she said, more to herself than to anyone in particular. "I cannot lose you both... I will not lose you both."

That was when she felt the soft pressure of Antón's decomposing hand resting on her knee, his eyes wet with tears.

"It's alright, Francesca... save Jack. You can let me go."

"No," she insisted, rooting herself in deeper even as her voice cracked. But in doing so, she felt a pressure settle in on her body, grinding her down, stretching her until she felt thin and taut. She resisted the temptation to yield. "I can do this."

"Do not waste what little you have left on me... I'm too far gone already."

"No."

"Francesca..."