Chapter 9 (Incomplete)

All that I know is I’m breathing.
All I can do is keep breathing.
All we can do is keep breathing now.

- Keep Breathing, Ingrid Michaelson

I awake to the smell of pine trees and light flickering on my eyelids, but I refuse to open them. I feel peaceful and at rest for the first time since… well, since I can remember! If this is what death is like, perhaps I won’t mind it as much as I thought I would.

“Cordelia?”

Oh no…

Or maybe death is more painful, internally at least. Maybe it tortures you with the voices you will miss the most. As I hear Carwyn’s voice echo in my mind, I can’t help but squeeze my eyes even tighter, wanting it to go away. I can’t bear the thought of never seeing him again.

“Cordelia, please, open your eyes!”

If I am to be forever haunted by this sound… But in my obedience, I open my eyes, hoping that somehow he will be here, with me.

And he is! He’s hovering over me, an anxious look on his face. But if he’s here… does that mean he’s dead too? Unless this isn’t death. Unless this is real!

“Carwyn?” I ask, and a tear falls down his face as I reach out my hand to touch his face. “Am I dead?”

He laughs, grabbing my hand and taking it in his own. “No, but you certainly were close to it!”

Then his tone changes and he looks at me with all seriousness. “What in hell made you get on the back of that thing?” he yells. “What are you, suicidal or something?”

“I don’t know!” I yell back, mustering what strength I have left and trying to sit up. “Maybe I am! Maybe I’m tired of living this retched life full of pain and suffering! Everything I ever do or say hurts someone! Everything!” I am sitting up now, looking him square in the eye. “I can’t go on watching you or Gavina suffer. It’s not fair. I wish I were dead!”

Carwyn is silent for a moment as he watches tears stream down my face. “Sorry then.” he says softly, but with a hint of sarcasm that only I can detect. “Sorry for saving your life.”

He turns away angrily, and for the first time I notice a large gaping wound behind his ear, a huge gash bleeding freely. He stands up and begins to pace, and I notice more injuries on his legs.

I wince slightly and try to stifle my sobs as I too stand up and walk over to him, noticing the sharp pain in my own leg and noticing a gash there as well.

“You’re hurt, badly.” I say, meaning to touch the cut on his neck but he turns away from me.

“I’m aware.” he says, with audible sarcasm this time.

“I’m sorry, okay.” I say gently, touching his arm. “I didn’t mean it.”

“But you did mean it. You meant every word of it.” He faces me. “But it’s not true. The most pain you ever put me through was just a few minutes ago, when I thought you were dead.”

As hard as it is to believe him, I let myself believe. Because it feels good. And I don’t need to be hurting physically and mentally.

“Thank you.” I say shortly, but with as much sincerity as I can muster. Then I begin to tear at my skirt, ripping away strands to wrap our ever-flowing wounds.

“What are you doing?” Carwyn asks nervously.

“In case you haven’t noticed, you’re seriously hurt. I was going to try and patch you up, but if you don’t want me to-”

“No, no.” Carwyn interrupts me hastily. “Go ahead.”

“So, how did you manage to rescue me, anyway.” I inquire while I work on his leg. I know he will want to tell his glorious, heroic tale.

“Well…” he starts, talking in a huge breath and puffing out his chest. I have to stifle a laugh as he continues. “I was chained up in one of those little cells in there, right? When all of the sudden I saw you fly by on a silver horse. I started screaming your name, but you must not have heard me. And I saw you and the horse plunge into the water. And I knew at once, it must have been a kelpie.”

“A what?” I stop my work for a moment and look up at him.

“A kelpie.” he repeats. “Donnell had this huge book of banned creatures that he made all the royal advisors read, and the kelpie was in there. It’s a really horrible creature. It lures you onto its back and then dives into the depths of the water to let you drown.”

I shiver. “Then how’d you get me off of it?” I ask in earnest. As Carwyn takes a breath to continue, I pause for a moment, thinking. “No wait!” I stop him. “First tell me how you got out of your cell.”

“I’m getting there.” he says, obviously amused by my full attention on him. “So I was screaming your name and I asked the faerie in my cell to help me, because I knew you were going to die if I didn’t do something.”

“Hold on.” I say, bemused. “There was a faerie in the cell with you?”

“Oh yeah… I didn’t mention that before, did I?” I shake my head and he goes on. “Well, I begged her to please try and help me, or my best friend was going to die. So gathered all of her strength and magic, and blasted the side of the cell off.”

My eyes open wide in amazement. If there re other magical creatures like that… can’t they all break free?

“So I wasted no time and dove into the water to get you.” he continues, interrupting my thoughts. “Of course, you were unconscious by then, but I managed to get you out of the water. After the kelpie put up one heck of a fight.” He points to his neck.

There is a brief pause where I go over the situation in my head.

“What happened to the faerie?” I ask.

“Oh, that’s right!” Carwyn gets up and helps me up as well. He leads me over to an old tree with a huge hole carved in the middle of it.

“Here she is.” There she lays peacefully on a bed of leaves, her long, wild hair covering her body, fingers like lace, and tiny feet barely noticeable beneath the hair. Her hair is pale blue as is her skin, and it almost blends into her cerulean wings, combining flesh and fiber. The wings are the most beautiful thing I have ever seen, pure and radiant, completely alienated from her surroundings. I notice that Carwyn has made her a mattress of leaves and a pillow of dandelion puffs. The warm-hearted gesture makes my heart swell.

“Is she-?” I can’t finish my sentence while watching the lovely creature laying there, so innocent and broken looking.

“No.” Carwyn knows what I’m asking. “She’s still breathing, see? And she would have lost her wings if she was dead.”

A faerie without wings. It must be one of the saddest things I’ve ever heard. A tear runs down my cheek and Carwyn puts his arm around my shoulders. I place mine around his waist, my head on his shoulder. We stand like that for a while until I finally break the silence.

“Have you seen Gavina?” I ask, looking up at Carwyn’s face.

“No, I haven’t. Not since the tournament.” He sounds worried, anxious.