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Chapter Fifty Two

After using a portal to send William Kei's body to the police station, I trudged over to a nearby bench, stumbling onto it as the cane disappeared. My arms and face were splattered with blood, and the stench made me want to hurl. My breathing became uneven as I let my tears fall, hugging my legs to my chest as I cried into my hands. Mom... I did it. I got back at William Kei for you. As I wiped my arm across my face, I felt the stinging of the wound that appeared from my Summoning attribute. Blood smeared on my cheeks, and I leaned back, sniffling.

I need to give the Blood Assassin knife back to Papa.

He'll decide what to do with it.

Speaking of the knife, I pulled it out of my waist band, only for a letter to come with it. I blinked, trying to decipher whether or not I was imagining it. Strange. There wasn't a letter in William Kei's hand or anything when I retrieved it from him. Ignoring my bloody fingers, I opened the letter hastily, unfolding the paper inside. On the page was the neatest writing I had ever seen, with a bright and fancy signature signed at the bottom by a brush tip.

My descendant of the Blood Assassin dynasty,

You, who will nurture and care for our world by all means necessary, will be given the power to grant another descendant a second chance at life if they were to be cut by the very blade you hold. The capsule of their attributes cages their very soul, and the victim's soul is their life's work. I cannot allow it to go to waste. A fragment of the blade and the capsule of their soul is needed for the cure. Only one with a medicinal attribute will be able to conform their soul into a proper injection for a second life.

Good luck, my descendant.

~ Aristi F.

My eyes widened suddenly at the signature, and I felt my thumb rub against it in awe. The name... sounds oddly familiar. Aristi— a Faun like Mom perhaps. The letter's contents made my heart beat in a wild dance, and I stood up quickly, only wincing when pain struck my limbs. I fell back down into the seat, letting out a shaky breath. A second chance at life? That means Mom can come back? Despite the tingling pain my body was warning me about my attribute exertion, the last drops of energy from my Dream Factory attribute were used to open up a portal to the hospital. It appeared on the ground.

Leaning over to minimize my movement, I fell into it, appearing suddenly next to a white wall.

Clinging onto it tightly, I peered around and found myself in the middle of the hallway, next to Ryan's hospital room. The hall began blurring in my vision, and I clicked my tongue in annoyance. I'm starting to feel lightheaded, but I have to persist. Papa was down the hall, pacing in front of a door which I assumed was Mom's hospital room. My time sphere disappeared from around the area, and Papa noticed, looking up to see me battered and torn in front of him. I waved the letter in my hand.

"Papa! I found something that can help Mom—"

Papa suddenly appeared in front of me, hugging me tightly in his arms once again. I was a little startled, hesitantly wrapping my arms around him. He inhaled sharply, just realizing the blood smeared on my face, and murmured, "Oh god, you're alive, Meredith..."

My jaw clenched. I was so blinded by seeing Mom's dead body that I didn't notice he was just as horrified by the gore as I was. I didn't acknowledge how he felt seeing his wife laying dead before him. My arms tightened around him, and I let him sob into my shoulder as he trembled, struggling to stand up straight. And I probably made it worse for him after I ran away.

"I'm sorry," I whispered to him, letting my hand hold his head to my shoulder. I kissed his cheek gently, smiling weakly as he sniffled, trying to get himself together. "I won't leave again, and that's a promise." Carefully, I pulled away from him, handing him the Blood Assassin knife and the letter.

He peered down at them, his tears falling. "What's this..?" His voice was quiet, cracking at the end.

"A way to bring Mom back," I responded, letting him take the items from me. "I'm not sure how I got it, but it's here, and it'll work. I have this feeling that's telling me it won't fail—"

Suddenly, a sharp pain stung my gut, and I let out wheezing gasp, falling to my knees. What is this? Papa crouched down beside me, yelling my name as his hands dropped the letter and the knife. I could hear him, but the sound of my heart pounding in my chest overpowered his voice. It stings, almost like someone is searing my body. Looking up at him, my eyes began to water when the pain didn't waver.

"P-Papa, it hurts," I stuttered out between my breaths, inhaling sharply when it pulsed in my stomach again. The pain began to increase, traveling down my thighs and up my torso. I grabbed onto his shoulders, hugging him tightly. "Help..!"

"Someone help us!" Papa yelled aloud, looking around as he held me in his arms desperately, trying to get me to think straight. His jaw clenched visibly, and he shouted, "Anyone!"

Was it because I used my attributes simultaneously without much practice? The pain started to touch my heart, and the more it pounded, the more I felt the sting thrash around in my body. I heard footsteps coming towards us, but for some reason, my body activated a time sphere around us by itself. The instinct activated for no reason? I looked up at Papa, seeing his eyes on me, and I swear on all deities of all religions that I would never forget the distraught expression on his face.

It was contorted in fear, and I had never seen fear in his eyes like I did then.

In front of him— in only a few hours— his wife was brutally murdered by a criminal mastermind, and his daughter was suffering from an unknown pain due to the same person.

"Papa, don't cry," I whispered quietly, biting my tongue to keep from screaming. His green eyes were drowning in tears, and as my vision blurred to white, my hand felt his face for his tears, wiping them away. I smiled lightly, saying, "It'll be okay."

Him screaming my name was the last thing I heard when I closed my eyes.

A/N

If I'm being honest, Tristan experiences more distraught emotions in this story than Meredith does (it seems).

Poor Tristan :c