"Live for me."

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"Live for me."

Those were her last words for him.

His eyes snapped open, those red orbs glowing with a newfound clarity. It was raining, he noticed. Heavy raindrops drummed onto his skull, the sound reverberating in his head. He was half submerged in a puddle, and he was going deeper and deeper into the earth; the roots were determined to drag him under to drown him and bury him alive.

Live for her, she said. That was her dying wish. Who was Elias to deny it from her? If that was what she wanted, then he would live on. He may not be able to move on, and he may have to live with the pain, but for Chise's sake, he will live. She had rarely asked him for anything when she still lived, but he would've given her everything.

She died so he could live, and he would not let her die in vain. She didn't die for nothing.

He writhed within the grasp of thorned roots. He bled from being cut, but the roots eventually let go, and slithered back into the ground.

"I will wait for you, Chise, no matter how long it shall take. So please, come back to me...let me be selfish just one more time."

Slowly, he crawled towards the doorstep. He was finally aware that his body wouldn't last if he continued to surrender it to harsh weathers. His head throbbed and his body ached like never before.

Still on the ground, he reached up for the door knob, and managed to open the door, but all his strength had left him. He was sheltered from the rain, but he couldn't move another inch; his body wasn't willing. Eventually, even his eyes couldn't stay open, and he slept.

———————————

Elias woke up in his bed.

Silky had heard the door open, but when no footsteps followed the jingle of bells, she went to check, and found Elias unconscious on the floor.

"This is no place to sleep," Ariel had said.

Silky had dragged him up the stairs and into his room—she was surprisingly strong for her size—and changed him out of those blood and rain soaked clothes. The fairies had healed the cuts and wounds on his body while he was out cold, it was easier for them when he wasn't resisting it, but nothing could mend a broken heart.

The pillows were arranged so that he could rest his head without having to lie down on his stomach. He noticed he was hooked up to some IV fluid. Just then, the door opened and in walked Shannon.

"Ah, you're awake. Finally."

Elias opened his mouth, but his voice was gone.

"Don't talk, you've parched your throat dry." Shannon said. "The banshee summoned me. I would've never expected to see you in this state, Mage."

There was a jug of water on the bedside table. She poured a glass full and handed it to him. He accepted it. "See if you can swallow."

His throat stung when the water went down, but it was bearable.

"Good. Drink plenty. I've already instructed Silver Lady to prepare some light, warm stew for you that should be easy to digest, and provide you with necessary nutrients. Until you get better, that would be your daily diet."

Elias nodded.

Shannon placed a hand on his neck to check his temperature. "You're still burning from a fever." She sighed, sitting down on the bedside chair. "You better start taking care of yourself. You've grieved enough. I know the pain would probably never fade, but Chise wouldn't want to see you so...frail and unwell. For her sake, at least, be a good man and recover."

She got up, dusted her lap, and made to the door. "I expect you to be up and going again soon. Not to mention the villagers need your medicine. I'll be visiting often." She left.

Soon after, Silky allowed herself into the room without even bothering to knock. Elias didn't mind. She was carrying a tray of food. She placed it before him.

Elias picked up the spoon, and fed himself a mouthful. "Delicious as always, Sillky," he managed to rasp out. "Thank you." This drew a smile from the Silver Lady, who curtsied and left him to rest.

It felt like forever, but Elias managed to finish what Silky had made for him. Live for her, he vowed.

It took about a week, before he was almost back to himself. Physically, at least. Too often he found himself unable to perform his daily tasks. Too often it was cold. Sometimes he was hit by a dizzy spell. Everyday he was plagued by heartache and guilt.

Everywhere he looked, everything reminded him of her. Whenever he was out in the garden, he saw Chise tending to the flowers and every vegetation there was. He couldn't remember when it started, but she had gotten into the habit of stopping the task at hand to turn towards him with her face adorned with that sweet smile of hers every time he walked up to her. They always had something to chat when they made eye contact. They talked about the weather, the seasons. Sometimes they talked about the fae, sometimes they talked about themselves, and their future.

Now, her voice was but a memory, and the apparition of her that he had conjured in his mind never stayed. She would always vanish into glitter, to remind him of the harsh truth.

Going back into the house wasn't any better. The seat before him in the dining room stood vacant. The coffee table in the living room still had a stack of books, but Chise could never read them again. Her room stayed the way she left it. Elias forbade Silver Lady from touching anything, from cleaning or tidying it, not that it was particularly cluttered. But this was one of the last things to remember her by.

Books that he had assigned her to read and study were neatly stacked on the side of her worktable, and her stationary on the other. Elias picked up her notebook and flipped through it.

She was a studious apprentice, that's for sure. He admired occasionally at her doodles on some of the pages; he chuckled when some of those were of his skull. He found some notebooks that she had yet to have the opportunity to use.

He sat on the carefully made bed, and began writing down memories he shared with her. Eventually this became a ritual. He would spend the morning in the garden, just looking at her resting place where her wand stood. He would then try to perform his duties, often times Silky had to remind him to eat. And towards the evening he sat on her bed, writing down memories that came to him throughout the day. When there was none left, he read them over and over again.

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