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Chapter 22

  Chapter 22

  I woke up to the same wooden ceiling, the same herb-scented air, the same crushing weight in my chest that made it hard to breathe.

  The memories hit me like a punch to the gut. Senna's death. The others. All because of my monster.

  I pressed my palms against my eyes, trying to block out the images that kept flashing through my mind. But they wouldn't stop.

  "You're awake again."

  I turned to see Healer Leah sitting in her usual chair, her weathered face creased with concern.

  "How long was I out this time?" My voice came out as a whisper.

  "Just a few hours. Your body's still recovering." She reached for a cup of water. "Here, drink this."

  I took the cup with shaking hands, the cool water doing nothing to wash away the bitter taste in my mouth. Everything felt wrong. The world kept spinning like normal while I sat here knowing what I'd done.

  "It's my fault," I whispered, the words spilling out before I could stop them.

  Leah frowned. "What do you mean?"

  I almost told her. The truth was right there on my tongue—that I'd created the basilisk in my rage, that I'd lost control and unleashed something that killed the very people I'd been trying to save.

  But I couldn't.

  "I should have been stronger," I said instead. "Should have protected them better."

  "Child," Leah's voice was firm now. "There was nothing you could have done."

  If only she knew. If only any of them knew that the monster hadn't come from the forest at all—it had come from me.

  Every time I closed my eyes, I saw their faces.

  All of them gone. All because of me.

  I saved them from the knights just to kill them…

  "I need to see them," I said, trying to sit up. "I need to—"

  "You need to rest," Leah interrupted, placing a firm hand on my shoulder.

  "But they're hurting, and it's my—"

  "Stop." Leah's voice cut through my spiral. "Whatever you think you're responsible for, torturing yourself won't bring back the dead."

  The words hit me like a slap. She was right, wasn't she? Sitting here drowning in guilt wouldn't fix anything. It wouldn't bring Senna back, wouldn't make Emil speak again, wouldn't undo the horror I'd unleashed.

  But knowing that didn't make the guilt any lighter.

  "I just..." I swallowed hard. "I just wish I could have done more."

  Leah studied my face for a long moment.

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  "Survivor's guilt," she said finally. "I've seen it before. People who make it through disasters when others don't, they blame themselves. Think they should have been the ones to die instead."

  Is that what this was? Just survivor's guilt?

  No. This was worse. This was knowing that I was directly responsible for their deaths and being too cowardly to admit it.

  "The living have a responsibility to keep living," Leah continued. "To honor the dead by making their sacrifice mean something."

  "What if their deaths weren't a sacrifice?" I asked. "What if they just died for nothing?"

  "Then you make sure their deaths become something." Her voice was steady, certain. "You survive. You grow stronger. You use that strength to protect others."

  I closed my eyes, feeling tears leak down my cheeks. How could I grow stronger when my strength was the thing that had killed them?

  "I don't know if I can," I whispered.

  "You can. And you will." Leah reached out and squeezed my hand. "Because the alternative is letting their deaths be meaningless. And I don't think you're the type to do that."

  I wanted to believe her. God, I wanted to believe that somehow I could make this right. But every time I thought about moving forward, I saw their faces. Heard their screams.

  Felt the basilisk's rage flowing through me like poison.

  She left me alone with my thoughts and my guilt, the afternoon light streaming through the window like nothing had changed.

  But everything had changed. I had changed.

  I was a killer now. A monster who killed the people she was supposed to protect.

  And I had no idea how to live with that.

  =====

  A week later, I was sitting by Emil's bedside, watching him stare out the window with those empty blue eyes.

  He still hadn't spoken. Not a single word since we'd arrived in Oakenford. The healers said his body was fine—no injuries, no illness. But something inside him had just...broke.

  "Hey, Emil," I said softly. "It's me again."

  No response. He didn't even blink.

  I'd been coming here every day for the past week, sitting with him for hours. Sometimes I'd tell him stories about the forest, about the good times we'd had before everything went wrong. Sometimes I just sat in silence, hoping that maybe today would be the day he'd look at me.

  It never was.

  "I brought you something," I said, pulling a small wooden horse from my pocket. Jorik had carved it—perhaps it's his way of coping with the grief, keeping his hands busy. "Jorik made it for you. He remembered how much you liked riding on Nox."

  I placed the toy on the windowsill beside him. Emil's eyes flicked toward it for just a second before returning to the window.

  It was the most reaction I'd gotten from him all week.

  My hands clenched into fists on my lap. The guilt hadn't gotten easier to bear. If anything, it had gotten worse.

  Every night I felt the basilisk presence. As my creation, our mental link remained intact even without loyalty. It was out there in the forest, hunting, killing. Just yesterday I'd felt it strike again—adventurers this time, a group that had probably been sent to deal with the "rogue basilisk."

  More blood on my hands. More deaths I was responsible for.

  A constant reminder of what I'd done.

  "Vera?"

  I turned to see Jorik standing in the doorway, his hair falling across his eyes and… he looked older.

  "How is he today?" he asked quietly.

  "The same." I stood up, brushing dust off my dress.

  Jorik nodded, unsurprised. He moved to sit beside Emil, gently taking the little boy's hand.

  "Leah wants to see you," Jorik said to me without looking away from Emil. "Something about registering with the local Crown Guild."

  My stomach dropped. I'd been dreading this conversation for days.

  "Did she say what about?"

  "Probably just paperwork. Standard stuff for mages, I think." Jorik said. "You'll need to register eventually if you want to stay in town."

  He was right, of course. I couldn't avoid the authorities forever.

  "I'll be back later," I told Emil, even though he gave no sign of hearing me.

  I squeezed Jorik's shoulder as I passed. "Take care of yourself too.”

  "I'm fine,"

  "No, you're not. None of us are." I paused at the doorway. "But we're all we have left now. So we look after each other, deal?"

  For the first time in days, Jorik's smile wasn't completely forced. "Deal."

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