SGE His Guarded Heart (Prequel to His Darkened Heart)

Chapter 15 The Light and the Dark

"Still, any hell would be better than this existence of his."
____________

Chapter 15 The Light and the Dark

The fragrant scent of flowers hung in the air, and the colors of them were vibrant and bright, the field looking like a serene landscape painting that'd taken hours upon hours to complete.

The amount of effort and time it'd taken to tend to this vast garden was a demonstration of pure dedication. After all, there was no way that this field of flowers could've flourished on their own without some help, could they?

Krushem dared to walk towards the field, past the bloodied broken wooden pews and past the carefully constructed altar. His black boots left bootprints as he went and then he was standing at the edge of the field. He raised his arm, his fingers inching towards the flowers.

At last, his fingers grazed the soft petals, and he even dared to pluck said flower from the earth. He twirled it in his hand and watched as the flower suddenly lost its vibrant color. The petals wilted and dried before crumbling to dust in his palm, and he felt a sudden sense of sorrow as he watched the dust be carried away by the wind.

When he looked up, he found that the whole field had wilted in a matter of seconds, the painting falling apart before his very eyes as if the field had been hit by disease. Grey replaced the color and in the flowers' places stood nothing but long stalks of yellowed grass.

And for some reason despite his determination to remain strong all this time, he felt the sorrow consume him despite how hard he struggled to push it away. It was as if he'd been gripped by a sudden spell and he could not escape the feelings plaguing him.

"Roman," a voice startled him and he spun around, only to see a young woman standing there who looked familiar and yet unfamiliar at the same time.

Her golden hair was braided into an intricate crown upon her head and her movements were graceful as she approached him, feet bare. Her blue gaze expressed a look of wisdom beyond her years, and her lips curled upwards into a delicate smile as she set her gaze upon Krushem.

Krushem recognized this woman. He'd seen her before in this exact place and in this exact dream. He'd seen her once with Elaine picking flowers, and Elaine had called her—

"Lilith?"

Lilith's smile radiated warmth as she unexpectedly hugged Krushem and Krushem found himself hugging her back without wanting to. It was suddenly as if his movements were not his own and neither were his thoughts.

Lilith was to be his love. She was a true leader to her tribe. The Demonian witches were powerful and great. The Servetes would be great too...just as long as he managed to get this job finished. He wouldn't let his family, nor himself, down.

"The preparations look great," Lilith pointed out, looking around the area.

Krushem found the broken wooden pews were gone. Instead, the pews were sturdy and clean of any blood whatsoever as if nothing terrible had happened here. Lilith took Not-Krushem's hand and their fingers became intertwined. She was now staring upon him as if she would do anything for him, and he felt a sliver of annoyance.

How could some woman be so daft to think she could trust him? He was looking out for his family, not her. But he had to lie and lie and wait and wait. He had to be patient here or else all his planning would be foiled and his goals would not be fulfilled.

So biting his tongue, Not-Krushem squeezed Lilith's hand back before walking between the empty wooden pews, his tattered brown boots shuffling across the grass.