On Death's Honor

Chapter 8: Sundown

I couldn't save her.

Over and over, the thought kept coursing through my head.

Her blood over my hands, staining the snow beneath them.

Her eyes boring down in mine, unforgiving.

I kept telling myself that that was the only way to save her. She was already lost; this was my way of freeing her. Release her soul to the gods.

But of course, the clearest path to hell was the one paved with best intentions.

Now she haunted me in my dreams, always there, always lurking. Dragging her sword against the cracked stone I ran on, waiting for me to stop. 

I've never been afraid of the shadows, for I was well aware of what usually lurked there. It didn't matter that I couldn't see. That in these dreams, tendrils of darkness reached out for me while voices screamed and yelled their grievances.

No, it was the thought of facing her that always had me running, always had her chasing. Sometimes she'd catch me with a blade through my back. 

Other times she caught me with her hands wrapped around my throat.

I tried not to fight her in those cases. I wouldn't hurt her any more than I already had.

But damn, dying never got any easier.

"Are you free, Wrenva? Do you think you'll ever be free?"

I took in a deep, strangled gasp, feeling her pinning me to the ground, her knees pressed against my sides while her fingers dug into my windpipe. I could never outrun her. Flat on my stomach, my arms remained frozen next to me. I felt her lean forward, strands of her dark hair brushing against my cheek.

"I'm coming," she hissed in my ear. "I'm right at your heels."

Which wouldn't be so bad if she'd intended on killing me, first.

I took in a breath. I deserved this. 

I couldn't save her. I could never save her-

"Songbird. Songbird, wake up."

I knew I was laying down, but that didn't stop the spinning motion circling around my head. I opened my mouth to say something, confused at why my chest was as tight as it was.

The voice from earlier swore.

"Breathe, you idiot."

Right. Still, my body somehow forgot how to draw in air, and it took a solid thump! of Bogdan heaving down on my chest for me to gasp out in pain. I turned on my side, coughing, wondering how the hell I always seemed to find myself in these situations.

Aching and sore all over the place, I eased back down on the mat, about to close my eyes before I realized that my body was about to fall back asleep.

I forced myself into a sitting motion fast enough to almost make me vomit, but I didn't care. Anything to keep from falling unconscious again. Speaking of which.

"Bogdan, what the actual hell was that?" I seethed, passing a hand over my face. My head felt like someone was trying to expand my skull.

"You talking about me or the voices in your head?" Always speaking in that sardonic tone of his, he was.

"I'm talking about you!" I spat, awkwardly stumbling to my feet. I had to raise out my arms to keep from falling, and I pointedly ignored my freshly wrapped injured arm. Or how I was wearing a clean tunic, even if it was on backwards. "I told you not to touch me!"