Saved by the Archangel
- Genre: Romance
- Status: Completed
- Language: English
- Author: Unlessyouremad
It was as if I was looking into the eyes of death. The place didn't have the smell or the heat of hell. It was strangely normal. Like an autumn afternoon in the human world. It wasn't cold, but it was windy, and it wasn't heated, although an orange light appeared between the clouds in what could be a late afternoon. The floor was made of dry and firm mud. And there was nothing as far as the eyes reached. No tree. No lake. No stone. It was the end of the world, the most honest way to say it.
"Do you know which direction to go? "I asked Vraxlon.
The prince-warrior watched me with a squinting glow in his eyes. I had the impression of thinking he would be in shock because it took a long time to answer me and the expression on his face was that of someone who had just suffered from a pressure drop. Vraxlon held me by the shoulders, and I noticed that his fingers were shaking. He made mention of speaking and seemed to weigh the words, choosing them.
"Thank you," he said in short breaths. “Thank you, Your Majesty. For everything.
I watched the surroundings, the sword he carried against his waist, and the way his fingers held me. I looked for any signs of danger. As much as I didn't suspect him, it seemed very strange to me that he was saying goodbye.
I looked down at the necklace on my chest, and it was a shock to see it completely erased, without a drop of my magic to fill the hollow circle of the pendant. I swallowed it dry and slowly pulled Vraxlon's hands away from my shoulders.
"Why are you saying goodbye? “I asked cautiously.
"Because this is where it ends," he said, momentarily closing his eyes. "You won't make it, Your Majesty. I see it now. You won't make it. None of us are going.
It was as if the whole world had fallen on my shoulders, and my knees were weak. It was one thing to suspect death, it was another to know of someone who saw me die for five centuries that I was about to die again. I found myself thinking that if Miguel was right about a prophecy if my decision to go to the human world had not come, in fact, from the need to make the most of my last days.
Because, according to the words of the archangel, I needed to get to Purgatory to make a choice, and then start a new cycle. In addition, on many occasions, my friends had said how impossible it would be to change an already-written story. Nothing prevented me from reliving it, no matter how much some choices changed the environment, it would still make the end the same.
"I need to be here," I spoke with a firmness that I didn't even recognize. "I need to find the Oracle before I die. That's how the story ends.
"I don't want it to end," said the prince-warrior. "I don't want you to die before my eyes once again.
With a sad smile, I approached again and touched his face. The ends of the strands of your beard tickled the tips of my fingers.
"We'll die together, did you forget?”
But that didn't seem to comfort the sin of lust. I knew that if the magic still ran through his veins, he would have used it to reopen the portal and take us back. I knew that even I would do that, just so I wouldn't have to see the pity that took care of Vraxlon's features. So as not to have to see the way his eyes darkened with a glow that could very well be from the tears he couldn't let go of.
Finally, after a very heavy second of silence, the prince-warrior held my hand and placed a kiss on my palm, tickling his beard in contact with my skin.
"We will live together," he promised.
But I knew it was an empty promise. He couldn't save me if it was something already planned to happen. And I knew I didn't want to be saved. I wanted to finish that cycle. I wish I didn't have to reincarnate for more human bodies that had no idea that a real hell existed. I just wanted peace. And if my death was enough for this, then so be it. It was a sacrifice that I was more than willing to make.
However, when the prince-warrior intertwined our fingers and said that we should go north, and walked together through that dry and lifeless terrain, I regretted that we didn't have enough time to make it worth it.
Worth it, yes, but not the way I wanted. Because I wanted it to last years, decades, or millennia. I wish Vraxlon could still feel the emotions I caused him. And as we walked north of Purgatory, I knew that after that day, we would never have a life together again.
Our walk continued along the dirt and dry path for long hours. My feet were already starting to hurt and slip inside my boots, not because of the heat, but because of pure nervousness. Vraxlon still held my fingers, and I noticed from time to time that he threw glances at me. If I'm worried about the amount of sweat in the palm of my hand or if I would be tired, I can't know. All I know is that when he looked back, he would look away.
We don't talk all the time either. And I started to get slightly disturbed by the lack of sounds from that place. It wasn't like in hell, where I had the choice to accept or ignore the sounds. There, it was as if the creatures sent there were always lurking, and needed silence to choose the best time to attack.