Ch 53 – If our emotions aren’t physical pieces of us, then why does my heart hurt so much?

[CW: gore, abuse, PTSD]

My father yanked my hair back and then pressed something against my open lips. A pungent liquid filled my mouth. I held back the urge to spit it out, knowing what he would do to me in response would be far worse than whatever potion he was forcing down my throat now. Gagging, I swallowed it down. The substance covered my mouth and throat like thick syrup, but tasted more like the liquified soup of long-dead rotting corpses. As it hit my stomach, I nearly threw it back up.

By a combination of luck and force of will, I managed to get the whole thing down. The glass bottle shattered somewhere against a wall, and my father finally released his grip on me.

“Wh-what was?” I tried to ask, swaying as nausea rolled through my gut. For a moment, I was certain that my eyes went blind, only for my sight to surge back.

His response was as contemptuous as before. “The potion I paid the healer to make. The one you somehow managed to scrape together two simple ingredients for. Strong enough to work on even a demon. At least, a minor one.”

So even that was ultimately his doing. He’d known everything, all along. The summoning attempt, my transformation, Lilis, and even Melkar’s actions. Yet even with him practically holding my hand through it, I’d utterly failed to overcome them. The potion was the only thing it seems I’d done right.

“It is meant to bring out a reflection of who you truly are. I looked over much of the process of creating it myself. If you are lucky, it has a solid fifty percent chance of working. Assuming it doesn’t just kill you.”

I felt a heat building in my stomach, growing until it burned. One of my hands dug into the skin of my belly as the pain got worse, and I bent over, coughing and gagging. A knife clattered to the floor in front of me. One of his.

“So now is your one chance. Remember who you are. Imagine it in your mind and prove to me that you are my son. Prove that you are still a Zelian.”

I stared down at the blade in confusion, unsure of what he wanted me to do with it. When I tried to speak, all I could do was cough.

Then he lifted Lilis up off the ground, standing her between us, still bound. An icy chill flowed down my back. I met his eyes, so full of disdain, yet expectant. No. No, he wouldn’t.

He would.

Lilis’s panicked gaze struck my core, her bright green eyes pleading to me for help. “I’m s-sorry Ruby. I—I didn’t know. I didn’t—”

My father yanked her hair. “Do be quiet, or I’ll have to gag you again.”

Lilis broke down into sobs. I realized that this was a side of her I’d never seen before. She’d always seemed so in control of things. It felt so wrong.

“Pick up the knife, son.”

Almost without thought, my hand reached down and grabbed it.

My father’s voice seemed far away. “And this time, don’t disappoint me.”

Then I looked back up. Amethyst stood there in front of me, snot and tears running down her face as my father forced her hand out in front of me, her index finger sticking outward, waiting. I could barely see her through my own blurry vision. I looked down at the knife in my hand, one too big for my little fingers, as I tried to figure out how it got there.

“Everything has a cost, my son.” His words echoed in my mind.

Just one finger. That was all.

I can’t do it. I can’t.

“Even love and friendship. They weaken you.”

The knife fell. Falling and falling. Endlessly. A nightmare. This was just a nightmare.

“They leave you vulnerable.”

Her sobs were cut short.

“And eventually, those feelings will betray and kill you, if you let them.”

Rather than the knife, it was her hand that hit the grass. It didn’t feel real. It never had. My mind couldn’t make sense of it. As though my eyes were lying to me. As though the bleeding, motionless hand wasn’t there. I didn’t want to believe it was real. I could hear her screams, but that too seemed distant. All I could do was stare down at the bloody mass on the ground.

A finger. That was all I had to do. Just one. But I couldn’t.

And everything has a cost.

“We’ll send the hand to her father. It should help him be more cooperative,” was what he’d said.

My breathing was ragged, and my hands shook, still gripped around the blade. This time, I hadn’t dropped it, at least not yet. At some point, my eyes had closed shut.

I never saw Amethyst again. Was she still out there somewhere, alive and living well?

Or had her body found itself in an unmarked grave?

I’d always been too terrified to find out, scared of what I’d learn. A girl with one hand wasn’t very useful. I couldn’t bear to know that her life had turned to one of misfortune. It was easier to just pretend she was happy somewhere, that dreadful day long forgotten. I wanted to see her smile again.

My eyes blinked back open to find Lilis still there in front of me. How much time had passed? A few seconds? A minute? Ten? No, probably not that long, at least. Much like back then, her finger was pressed out before me, hovering there in the air.

Just one finger. Just one. I had to.

It was a small punishment for betrayal, by my father’s standards. And she had betrayed me, minor as it was. If her and Thamus hadn’t been spying on me, none of this would have happened. I’d have stayed as my old self. As Gellin Zelian.

I had to do this. To prove that I was still a Zelian. No son of Althon Zelian would be so soft, so weak. I’d already become a disappointment—a stain on the family.

As much as I wanted them to, the excuses weren’t working. My stomach felt sick. The hall around me spun, and I was sure that at any moment I was bound to collapse. That potion was sinking into me, threatening to devour me, body and soul.

I had to do this though. If I didn’t, my father would do worse. And this time, he may take more than just the hand. For her, for myself, it had to be done.

Trembling, I stepped forward, once more meeting her bright green pleading eyes. I couldn’t look into them for long. Later, I’m sure my father would punish me for the cowardice.

The knife in my hand rose. Would she forgive me for this? Probably not. Though much like Amethyst, this might very well be the last time I ever saw her. I would be going back home, with Father. And so I had to do this—to prove that I was still his son. Both to him and myself. The alternative, well, there was no alternative.

…but was this who I really wanted to be?

I swallowed, as though it would relieve my dry throat and push the thought down. The knife hovered. I knew I could do this. I’d hurt plenty of people before.

Is this really who I am?

My body shuddered. No. No. I couldn’t. I wouldn’t.

Something snapped.

My despair and anxiety twisted, turning into rage. I was done. I was done with everything—with all of this! For too long now I’d been pushed and pulled, strung up like a puppet to dance at the whims of those around me.

No more.

My frustration boiled, finally spilling over. I glared up at my father, my lips curling up into a snarl. The knife clattered along the floor, tossed aside like trash. My father’s eyes narrowed, like sharpened blades already stabbing into me. Ready to twist. To make me cower and beg.

For once I would make the choice that I wanted to make.

It was a mistake. Deep down I knew that. But I was tired, so tired of being under everyone’s boot. He would punish me for this later. For not just openly and publicly defying him, but to instill back into me all of the lessons that I’d forgotten. Yet I couldn’t do this to her.

Everything has a cost.

My father scoffed. “Of all the times, now you finally grow a spine. At least I can be sure that my son is still somewhere in there. It brings back memories of the last time I saw my own father.” When he stabbed him through the back, right through his father’s heart.

He paused. “Very well.”

A hand smacked Lilis across the face, and she toppled to the floor. In a blink, he stood in front of me, gripping my jaw. My own claws dug into his vest, failing to pierce it. I should have kept the knife. Tossing it aside was a mistake.

I could feel my consciousness fading, and my body flushed with pain from head to toe. The potion was fully taking effect now. Darkness began to creep into the edges of my vision.

No. I had to stay awake. I couldn’t fall unconscious. If not for myself, then for Lilis. He would hurt her. He would probably kill her, as he likely did with Amethyst. In the state I was in, I had no chance of fighting him, but perhaps I could endure. I waited for the imminent blow from my father. But somehow, it didn’t come.

Blinking away stars, I barely caught a glance of something just to my right. A doorway, or rather, a portal that was shaped like one. It went from the floor to just above my head, the top curving into a pointed arch. There in the air it stood, as though it had been there all along. At first, I didn’t think it was real. Just an illusion, a hallucination from the potion. But then I remembered.

A promise of escape. A promise of protection. But more than that—a choice.

I wanted to laugh. No, I was laughing. I felt like I was going mad. And perhaps I was. The potion was likely killing me. Everything felt so strange.

Who was I?

My thoughts went back to the vision I’d had deep below the academy. The reflection there that I’d seen.

My father spoke, but I didn’t understand him. The words fell from my ears like water. The pain had turned to numbness. I could barely feel a thing. But something was changing.

A choice. My hand reached out, touching the portal. The tips of my fingers disappeared within. I could feel it pulling, like an invitation to step inside. It was rare that someone gave me a true choice. Though perhaps this too was an illusion.

My father tried to jerk me away from it, but I didn’t budge even an inch, as though the portal had frozen me solid from just the tips of my fingers. He yelled something. A rarity for him.

Did I dare? The demon had been at least partially honest. And truthfully, there was little left for me here. The potion wouldn’t work. Of that, somehow I was certain. Whatever happened to me after that… wouldn’t be pleasant.

A choice. A gamble.

Fitting that it would be with a demon. Did I take the path of certain demise, or the one shadowed by the unknown? I didn’t have long left to decide. My legs were barely holding me up. My numb lips twisted up in what I assumed was a smirk. Was it even a question?

My arm sunk in up to my elbow.

“Ruby!” a voice shouted, though my head felt so clouded that I could barely hear her.

I turned to see a girl vaulting forward. It took me a moment to recognize her. Everything was becoming darker. I felt cold. Lilis. Right, I was supposed to protect her. How had I already forgotten?

My hand reached out, and she grabbed it with her own. I could barely feel her, but I could still see those bright green eyes. She tried to pull me back. To pull me away from the choice I’d already made.

I stepped forward, or tried to. My body wasn’t truly obeying me anymore. Instead I fell, right through the doorway. Her arm came with me, more by her own efforts than mine. I felt so numb. I couldn’t move. Now nothing but darkness surrounded us. Without me gripping back, her hand began to slip.

As we fell through the void, my mind had a brief moment of clarity. I could see her saying my name, but I couldn’t hear her. We were falling, or perhaps floating, pulled by some invisible tide. The strength of  dangerous rapids. Bright green eyes stared deep into my own. I could feel her fear and terror, her guilt and shame, her desire to apologize. To never let me go.

She gripped as tightly as she could, but it wasn’t enough. Her hand slipped from my own, our fingers briefly touching as whatever force that carried us finally pulled us apart. I watched her drift, her hand still stretched toward my own. My eyes never left hers.

Until we were gone.

— — —

The flash was painfully bright, lasting several seconds. All four of my arms rose to block it, though it had truthfully already blinded me. The dense, canopied forest floor had likely not seen this much light in several millennia.

As it finally faded, I leaned forward, staring into the circle, despite only seeing a blur.

“Did it work?” one of the priests asked.

The vyxa had gone through. I was certain of it, I’d felt her. Along with what I suspected was a second person. Somehow, despite our connection having been severed, enough lingered that the portal had found her. And yet, as my eyes cleared, the circle in front of me remained stubbornly empty.

“No. No, it didn’t.”

Why? Why wasn’t she here?

Our connection was broken. It was what I’d wanted. The vyxa was not truly my responsibility, as much as I’d tried to help her. She’d never listened to me. So why did her absence hurt so much?