Chapter • 04

♱ •⋅ 1750 B. C. ⋅• ♱

She was too strong, and I could feel my breath getting heavier as she lunged at me again. I knew there would be an opening; Elaine always left a gap when she assumed an offensive stance. That was the point Calisto used several times to bring her down to the ground, giving readers some sighs when they almost kissed.

I would use that opening.

Was Calisto watching? Was he still paying attention to me?

I admit my thoughts were foolish, but I can't say I'm ashamed because even if it were a dream, it would be nice to be the sole source of his interest. The only one he would look at, even if only during a fight. Even if out of self-interest.

But if that's what I wanted, I couldn't give up. I couldn't fall and couldn't let Elaine knock me down or land a hit.

"Come at me," I murmured almost inaudibly, and I could feel my body grow heavy and my skin burn as magical runes appeared, cutting into my flesh. It was the mark of Asra's family, but this dream was becoming too faithful. Should it hurt?

"Magic doesn't work on me," Elaine said, but when she smiled, her gaze faltered, and the opening I wanted, the one that would leave no doubt about my victory, appeared. She wavered with an open stance, and with the runes, I quickened my movements, a flash, and the image in front of me was Elaine's back, her hair floating as she slowly turned her face. Need to be faster.

I smiled with satisfaction, and the sword I had stolen from Azrael, the cursed sword capable of injuring even the archangels, pierced Elaine's abdomen, staining her white clothes with the crimson of her blood.

"Ho-how?" she looked at me incredulously, and my vision blurred. The spear in Elaine's hands had vanished, yet now I could feel it in my back. I coughed, and the metallic taste of blood filled my mouth. Something was wrong. In dreams, you shouldn't get physically hurt.

My eyes felt heavy, and the levitation magic could not sustain them. The runes faded from my skin, and I could hear a guttural scream in the background as Elaine fell to the ground. Was Calisto screaming for her?

It was too dark, too cloudy, and challenging to breathe. I couldn't tell, and I just knew that my body was now falling like Elaine's.

Strong arms caught me before I hit the cold ground, and even without knowing who it was, I tried to smile. I needed to remember to thank them, but it was a dream, and you wake up when you die in a plan. At least, that's what I thought.

⋅• ♱ •⋅

It was hurting. Something seemed to be forcibly ripped from my back, and I could hear a man's voice who sounded very irritated.

"If she dies, you will regret your existence," he said, and the sound of footsteps pacing back and forth seemed to grow more constant.

"We're doing our best, sir..." a young voice tried to argue.

"Then do better," the man growled.

"It's difficult, sir. Probably only Lucifer could help," a third voice intervened. "In the end, she was injured by a spear made of sacred energy, and sacred energy is lethal to infernals."

"I don't care," he snarled again. "You're Samael's priests, damn it! Find a way!"

He seemed genuinely annoyed, but the pain made my already clouded consciousness fade entirely once again.

"What the hell do you expect from me?" I heard a female voice grumble. My back still ached as if liquid iron were being poured into my bones.

"Help her," the man's voice said without mincing words.

"Do you even know what you're asking of me?" She sounded incredulous, but her voice was soft and pleasant.

I wanted to see whose voice it was. Was all of this a dream? Was I still dreaming?

"A damn spear of sacred energy wounded her," he said, and in his voice, you could almost palpably feel how remorseful and melancholic he was.

"And what the fuck does that have to do with me?"

"Lucifer..." he seemed about to plead.

"Don't ask me that," she murmured.

"Please..." he whispered, a clear plea, but it didn't make sense. Elaine would never need Lucifer's help to heal from an injury with sacred energy, and Calisto would never beg for something unless it concerned the second woman he loved.

Was I delirious? Was I still dreaming?

"I hate you," the woman murmured, and cold hands touched my back and mind. I could feel her fingers gliding over my soul, healing every tiny wound and rejoining the knots the damned spear had cut. I could feel the pain she was feeling as she did so, and it was too painful.

"Sorry," I whispered in her mind, and for a moment, even if I couldn't see her face, I swore she smiled. A smile filled with surprise, but it was a surprise that seemed to calm and comfort her.

"This is the first time anyone has apologized," she said with a sweetness that made my heart ache, and my consciousness again abandoned me.

⋅• ♱ •⋅

When my eyes opened, I realized I wasn't in my room; I was in a dark place with a large stained glass window. The moon seemed strangely close, so close that it appeared five times larger than usual, and the stars painted the sky so splendidly that it didn't seem real.

I had opened my eyes, but it didn't feel like I had woken up.

"Hey," I groaned, feeling a twinge in my back, and only then did I realize that my body was completely sore.

"You're awake," Calisto's voice reached me, and my eyes searched for his face in the room's darkness.

He was standing in a chair in the left corner of the room. I recognized that room: the dark floor, the stone walls, the fireplace that was never lit, and the giant canopy bed, the one he hadn't used since the death of his only wife.

"Darling," I murmured, "why am I here?"

Asra had never entered Calisto's room, but the red hair cascading over my shoulders made it clear that I was still Asra.

"Is that your biggest curiosity?" he said, sounding angry.

"What happened?" I remembered Elaine's spear piercing my back and her falling to the ground.

"Did the girl die?" I asked, even though I already knew the answer.

Elaine hadn't died. She couldn't be killed.

"To hell with that girl," he murmured. "You..."

He stopped, and his quartz-pink eyes seemed emptier as he looked beyond the window.

"I thought you were going to die," he said, his voice choked as if he were about to cry.

Would Calisto cry for Asra? What the hell was happening?

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