Alchemised

by SenLinYu

“What kind of ring is that?” she asked. He looked down. “This?” he asked, as if there were any other rings she could have been referring to. He turned his hand. “Just an old piece.”

“Do I know you?” she asked as her eyes slid closed. “I suppose you do.”

Ferron’s lips remained pressed against Aurelia’s, but as he kissed her, he raised his eyes, and his gaze locked onto Helena’s face.

“Why don’t you die?” There was no point in being coy. She wanted to kill him; they both knew it. Blood was still flowing down the hilt of the knife, dripping scarlet across the white marble floor, spattering across the ouroboros mosaic. His lips curved into an insincere smile. “Prior commitments, I’m afraid.”

“I will die before I lose her,” Ferron said, his grip tightening.

“Are you wanting a confession?” he finally asked. “Shall I tell you everything I’ve done?” She could only make out the vaguest shape of him, crouched in front of her. His breathing was still strained as he held her upright. She wondered then if they’d paused there so she could recover, or so he could. The dose of laudanum she’d taken had eased the pain splintering her head. A question rose to her lips, and she felt as if it was vital that she ask. She leaned forward, trying to see his face. “Do you want to?”

“She’ll never be yours.” Without lowering Lancaster from where he was holding him, Ferron shoved his hand into Lancaster’s abdominal cavity as easily as if his hand were breaking water. He pulled out Lancaster’s organs, winding them slowly around his fist.

“You idiot—why did you come out tonight?” Helena just looked at him. She thought she should say something. What she’d tried to tell Lancaster. “Ferron always comes for me,” she whispered. He stopped short. His jaw locked, fists clenching, saying nothing for a moment. Then his throat dipped, and he sighed.

“Well, you—you have a natural talent for it. In another life, you could be a healer.” “One of life’s great ironies,” he said, glancing towards the door, his jaw tight.

“Helena,” he said softly.

“I’m so sorry.”

“Stay…please…stay.”

“Are you wanting a confession? Shall I tell you everything I’ve done?” She stared into his mocking eyes. “Do you want to?” There was a flash of surprise that softened his features for an instant. He was lonely.

“Don’t die, Marino. I might miss you.”

“I must admit,” he said in a low voice as though making a confession, “if anyone had told me you’d become so lovely, I would never have come near you. I was rather blindsided when I saw you again.” Her eyebrows furrowed in confusion. “You’re like a rose in a graveyard,” he said, and his lips twisted into a bitter smile. “I wonder what you could have turned into without the war.”

“Don’t die, Kaine,” she said. The line he walked frightened her. If the array was the punishment for a failure, what would the price of betrayal be? A smirk twisted his mouth as he looked at her. “There are far worse fates than dying, Marino.” She nodded. “I know. But that one you don’t come back from.” He gave a bitter laugh. “All right, then, but only because you asked.”

Nothing and no one would ever convince her that anything noble or purifying could come from this scale of suffering. That any rewards could ever be worth it. To trick people into embracing it was cruelty.

“I can’t—I can’t do this again—” he finally gasped out. “I can’t care for someone again. I can’t take it.”

“You could be a healer,” she finally said as he removed the block on her nerves. She flexed her hand, opening and closing. It was still sore, and fragile as though hairline-fractured. “You have a natural talent for it.” “That’s one of the most ironic things anyone has ever said to me,” he said quietly.

“You are not expendable. You don’t get to push everyone away so that they’ll feel comfortable using you and letting you die.”

“You are not replaceable,” he said, his hands trembling against her shoulders. “You are not required to make your death convenient. You are allowed to be important to people. The reason I’m here—the reason I’m doing any of this—is to keep you alive. To keep you safe. That was the deal.” He searched her face. “They didn’t tell you.” She shook her head, giving a broken sob and—before she let herself think—she kissed him.

“If I care about you—I won’t be able to use you. And you’re the only hope I have of keeping everyone else alive.” She curled in on herself, staring at the dancing flames. Somewhere on the Outpost, she was lying on the ground, going into shock, possibly freezing to death. “Then use me,” Kaine said.

“You don’t have to push me away to protect me,” he said in a hard, familiar voice. “I can take it. You can stop being lonely. I won’t misunderstand. I know you just want someone to be with.” She looked for a door. An escape. He didn’t let go. “Helena…” She stilled at her name. “I’m alone, too,” he said.

He entwined his fingers with hers and pulled her close, and this time she let him take her into his arms, his face buried in the curve of her neck. Life was not cold.

None of it matters. Sacrifice and pain, the universe does not care.” “You’re wrong,” she said. He opened his mouth to argue, to offer an endless list of examples of how cold and uncaring the world was, but she didn’t need to be told. “You’re wrong because I’m part of the universe,” she said.

“I’m going to take care of you. I swear, Helena, I’m always going to take care of you.” She heard him muttering the words against her skin or into her hair in such a low voice, she could barely make them out.

“Because I have warned you, if something happens to you, I will personally raze the entire Order of the Eternal Flame. That isn’t a threat, it’s a promise. Consider your survival as much a necessity to the Resistance as Holdfast’s. If you die, I will kill every single one of them.

Someday, she promised herself, someday I am going to love him in a moment that isn’t stolen.

“Why—” Her voice broke. “—why did you kill everyone?” He seemed startled by the question, as if he’d expected one of the others. “I was trying to find you.” Her heart stalled, body and mind torn between horror and relief. “You looked for me?” Her voice cracked. A look of anguish flashed across his eyes. “Of course I looked for you. I looked everywhere for you. Did you think I left you there?”

“You didn’t save me,” he said when he was finally capable of speech. “You just put us in hell for two years.”

“I’ve never gotten to tell anyone about you. I’d want someone to know what you were like.”

“I’m sorry—I’m sorry—I’m so sorry for everything I did to you,” he said, his voice hoarse and broken. “I love you. You left, and I’d never told you.”

“I don’t want to choose. I always have to choose, and I never get to choose you. I’m so tired of not getting to choose you.”

“Helena, I’m tired.”

“This was ours…” She swallowed, blinking hard. “They took it from us, but it was ours.”

She was a non-active member of the Order of the Eternal Flame and did not fight.