Chapter 21: Ungrateful and Broken

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∙ Madis POV ∙

Four days had passed since my visit to the Mortal Lands. I had allowed myself to be happy, I enjoyed the training, the drawing, spending time with these people and simply not worrying about anything. I had read a lot and had spent a lot of time with Noora who I got along with very well. I also had spent time with Eve and drew a lot with Feyre. I really thought I was on a good trail of becoming fully happy, but suddenly memories erupted in my mind and thoughts slowly filled my brain.

Yes, the situation had gotten better for Aesa and Geavin, but people were still suffering there and did not have an easy life. I had an easy life and had done absolutely nothing for it or to deserve it. All of sudden I started to feel so guilty again. So guilty for feeling happy. I felt so guilty for enjoying this life here.

Lowering my gaze, I stared back at my hands. My clean hands. I could't even remember when it had been the last time that they had been muddy and dirty. Then I looked up at the canvas again. The canvas with the black panting on it. I had been sitting in the studio for hours drawing on the canvas with black paint.

A hand. A hand reaching over the edge of a cliff. Another hand. A smaller one. Reaching up. Both not reaching the other hand. The person, the smaller person, would fall. Die. Slip out of the other person's hands. My hands. I let them down. I went away. They should have saved the other starving children. Not me.

Bracing my hands on my thighs, I took a few steadying breaths, closing my eyes, but immediately ripping them open again. Whenever I closed my eyes, I was haunted. Haunted by all those children I could not save. Why did they have to lose their life? And why was I allowed to live?

I had promised Noora and Cassian to let them train me later. But now all I wanted to do was cry, cry me to sleep. I was already crying, silent sobs escaping my throat and shoulders shaking. I wanted to sleep. I was so tired. No, actually I wanted to leave. Leave this place and go back to the Mortal Lands. I did not belong here. This here was not for me. So spoiled and fortunate. I could not live a life like this. And I could not live an immortal life like this. This was not for me—I had been used to do hard work and to live under bad conditions and not like that.

I slowly put my brush, that I was still holding, down and blew air out through my nose. I took one more glance at the picture. At the pictures. I had never drawn anything happy. Never. Always bad things. Feyre had to be quite annoyed with me by then. I had used her canvases and all I drew and painted were terrible creatures, pain and agony.

I wiped my eyes with the palms of my hands, sniffed two times and slowly got up, weak steps carrying me over to the door and I opened it. If I was lucky no one would be in the house right now and everyone would already be on the training pitch. I could just sneak upstairs, collect my things and run away. And then run to the Mortal Lands where hopefully Aesa and Geavin would just take me in.

I took slow and careful steps through the corridor, my in thick wool socks wrapped feet barely touched the ground. I crossed the last corner before the staircase when I heard them chatting.

No. I had to walk past them to get upstairs, so I decided that I would go back to the studio and wait there. I had made my plan without thinking about an overly motivated Cassian.

"There you are! Trying to sneak away and get out of practice. No with me. Come, get here, fair lady," I heard Cassian laugh from inside the dining room. I internally cursed myself for not waiting in the art studio just a second longer.

I slowly stepped inside, and only then realised that my eyes were probably red and puffy from crying. Feyre was on high alert in a second and jumped to her feet. Nyx got up as well, took a step forward but halted promptly. His eyes narrowed in on me. I was rooted to the ground, unable to move or do anything, because I knew if I spoke up my voice would quaver.

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