everybody talks | luke castellan

please be alive

⠀⠀⠀As the feast began and the campers celebrated their victory, Alessandra tried her best to join in the festivities. However, the adrenaline that had fueled her during the battle began to fade, leaving her feeling weak and lightheaded. She ignored the dull ache in her side, determined not to let it spoil the moment.

But as the evening wore on, Alessandra's condition worsened. The pain from her injury intensified, and she found it increasingly difficult to focus on anything other than the throbbing sensation in her side. She tried to push through it, unwilling to admit defeat, but her vision began to blur and her legs grew weak beneath her.

Luke noticed her distress and hurried to her side, concern etched on his face as he gently guided her to a nearby bench.

"Are you okay?" he asked, his voice filled with worry as he examined her pale complexion.

"I'm fine, Luke," Alessandra tried to reassure him, but her words came out as a faint whisper.

She could feel herself growing fainter by the second, her strength ebbing away with each passing moment. With a last effort, she tried to stand, but her legs gave out beneath her, and she collapsed onto the ground.

As Alessandra lay conscious yet weak on the ground, her injury remained concealed beneath the tightly fitted armor she wore for battle. The sleek metal plates hugged her figure snugly, providing protection against enemy blows but also obscuring any visible signs of injury.

At first glance, it seemed as though Alessandra had merely succumbed to exhaustion or overexertion, her chest rising and falling rhythmically as she lay sprawled on the ground. But as Luke knelt beside her, his fingers trembling as he searched for any sign of life, he couldn't shake the feeling that something was terribly wrong.

With trembling hands, Luke began to unfasten the straps of Alessandra's armor, his heart pounding in his chest as he prayed for her to be okay. But as he peeled back the layers of metal and leather, his worst fears were realized.

"Alessandra..." Luke whispered.

Beneath the protective shell of her armor, Alessandra's skin was pale and clammy, her breathing shallow and labored. And there, hidden beneath the layers of fabric, was the source of her suffering—a deep, jagged wound that oozed blood with each beat of her heart.

Alessandra's injury was a deep laceration along her side, inflicted by Luke's sword during their battle earlier that day. The cut was clean and precise, slicing through layers of skin and muscle with alarming ease. Blood seeped from the wound, staining her clothes a dark crimson as she struggled to maintain her composure.

With each passing moment, the pain grew more intense, radiating outwards from the site of the injury in pulsating waves. It felt like a white-hot poker had been driven into her side, the agony threatening to overwhelm her senses as she fought to remain conscious.

As she lay on the ground, her vision swimming and her breath coming in ragged gasps, Alessandra could feel the warmth of her own blood trickling down her skin, pooling beneath her like a macabre cushion. The metallic tang of iron filled her nostrils, making her stomach churn with nausea as she fought to keep the rising tide of panic at bay.

Luke scooped her into his arms, cradling her gently against his chest, ignoring the stares they got as he carried her through the chaos of the camp, Alessandra knew that she wasn't alone.

"Stay with me, Alessandra," Luke whispered urgently, his voice barely above a hoarse murmur as he pressed on through the darkness. The urgency in his tone was palpable, a desperate plea for her to hold on just a little while longer.

Alessandra's eyelids fluttered weakly, her breaths coming in shallow gasps as she struggled to remain conscious. The pain radiating from her injuries threatened to overwhelm her, but she refused to succumb to the darkness that beckoned from the edges of her vision.

With every ounce of willpower she could muster, Alessandra forced herself to focus on the sound of Luke's voice, and the warmth of his arms as he cradled her against his chest. She drew strength from his presence, his unwavering support a lifeline in her darkest hour.

But despite her best efforts, Alessandra could feel her strength waning, her grip on consciousness slipping with each passing moment. The world around her blurred into a haze of shadows and darkness, the forest swirling around her in a dizzying whirl.

As Alessandra's eyes fluttered shut and her body grew limp in Luke's arms, a wave of panic surged through him like a tidal wave, threatening to engulf him in its icy grip. He could feel his heart pounding in his chest, each beat echoing in his ears like a drum of impending doom.

"No, no, no," Luke muttered frantically, his voice trembling with fear as he struggled to keep his composure. He could feel the weight of Alessandra's lifeless form pressing down on him, a crushing burden that threatened to suffocate him with its sheer magnitude.

Desperation clawed at Luke's chest as he fought to rouse Alessandra from her unconscious state, shaking her gently and calling out her name in a voice thick with anguish. But there was no response, no flicker of awareness in her glassy eyes as they remained closed to the world.

A sense of helplessness washed over Luke, leaving him feeling powerless and adrift in a sea of uncertainty. He had never felt so alone, so utterly lost in the face of such overwhelming adversity.

"Almost there," Luke muttered under his breath, his strides growing longer and more determined as he pushed himself to the brink of exhaustion. He knew that they were running out of time, that Alessandra's life hung in the balance with every second that passed.

As they emerged from the forest into the clearing of the camp, Luke's heart leaped with relief at the sight of the infirmary looming before them. With a final burst of strength, he sprinted towards the building, his arms tightening around Alessandra's limp form as he prayed for her survival.

"Hang in there, Alessandra," Luke whispered, his voice choked with emotion as he laid her down on a cot inside the infirmary. The room was bustling with activity as healers rushed to

Alessandra's side, their faces grim with concern as they assessed her injuries.

Luke watched helplessly as the healers went to work, their hands moving with practiced precision as they tended to Alessandra's wounds. He felt a surge of guilt wash over him as he realized the extent of her injuries, knowing that he was responsible for causing her harm.

He hated himself for harming her.

Hours passed like an eternity as Luke waited anxiously by Alessandra's bedside, his heart heavy with worry. He watched as she lay unconscious, her breathing shallow and labored, her face pale and drawn with pain.

For Alessandra was a fighter, a warrior through and through, and nothing could ever extinguish the flame that burned within her soul. As Luke sat vigil by her side, he vowed to stand by her, to support her, and to fight for her until the very end.

─

Apologies for the late update, have been busy preparing for a regional competition, and intensive training starts next week so updates might take longer than expected. (Wish me luck!!)

But, thank you for the 1k+ reads and 50 votes, it's truly heartwarming to see people taking the time to get to know your writing. I really appreciate everyone who has been supporting Alessandra and Luke since the very beginning <3