Ripples

Balance XVI

Mentions of muscle dystrophy, temporary aphonia, death, depression, suicidal thoughts, grief, fainting, previous character death, previous deaths, alcoholism, and murder.

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Athanasia placed a hand above her chest, where her mana was beginning to grow again. It was neither cold, nor warm, simply depleted and neutral. It was a relief.

Slowly, she began to push herself up, or attempted to. It was more difficult than she thought. Her arms were trembling, and her body had no energy at all. Even her stomach was empty to the point of not feeling hungry at all. And, when she tried to open her mouth to speak, nothing came out.

The beginnings of panic climbed up her throat, and Athanasia tried, again and again, to say a word. Nothing but silence greeted her eyes, except for a stinging pain that filled her neck. Eventually, she felt frustrated, burying her face in her pillow.

"Lucas," she thought, panicked tears coming out of her eyes, "where are you? I need you. Please."

When Athanasia had been found, Lucas had been plagued by guilt. He was supposed to have protected her, dealt with Anastasius himself. He should have remained by her side until she got sick of him. And yet, when she needed him most, he wasn't there. During the times that actually mattered, he wasn't there. All that he stumbled upon was a wailing chimera, a dead man, and a seemingly dead princess- his precious Athanasia.

Now, that same princess was calling him.

It was a ghost, it must have been. It had to be her ghost. Not that it mattered to him, this man stuck in his tower, who was drowning in his miseries after she had left him, abandoned him, just like any other. If she had returned as a ghost, to haunt him for life, then he would take that over her not ever being by his side. So, Lucas teleported as fast as he could, dressed in week old robe. This Lucas stumbled upon his princess on the bed, and she was trembling like a leaf about to be blown away by the wind.

"Athy," he whispered, falling to his knees. He had seen her dead before, held her in his arms, but those eyes were sparkling like the ocean beneath the sun. She wasn't dead. No, she wasn't a ghost coming back to haunt him. "Athy."

He rushed to her side, holding her face. Once more, he stared into her eyes, reassuring himself that she was breathing and living, not a phantom of his dreams. But, when she opened her mouth to no avail, he frowned and asked, "Athy? What's wrong? Is there anything that you need? Are you in pain? Tell me, I'll get you anything."

The young maiden shook her head. His frown deepened until he lifted her, carried her out of the room, making sure not to jostle her lest she feels more pain. Through the gardens, the palaces, they ended up in the kitchen, where the cook was sobbing along with some maids. But, when the two arrived, both looking as they did, everybody paused and wondered if it was a terrible dream.

"Her highness needs water and food." Nobody moved. Lucas's brow twitched, and he felt the need to burn the kitchen down. "Her highness needs water and food!"

As soon as the maids and chefs fell into motion, Lucas sat down with his lover still in his arms. He held her close with her head on his chest, embracing her warmth to remind himself that she wasn't dead. And, as he was holding her, reassuring himself, the kitchen doors opened with a bang. Suddenly, he felt himself being turned around.

"What the-" the mage nearly cursed, and even Athanasia lifted her head weakly, only to find her father's tearful face. He smelled distinctly of alcohol, and his eyes were slightly dull, but they were also filled with despair. A hand landed upon her cheek, gentle and warm, so Athanasia couldn't help but lean against it with a loving smile.