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I woke up screaming.
I sat up, kicking the covers off me aggressively as I looked at my hands and arms, in search of the blood I knew to be there. I panted and scrubbed and screamed. I barely registered that someone was there with me until a warmth began to spread through me, the panic receding. I let the warmth take over me, let it calm me down. Although it wasn’t the warmth I really wanted, it would do for now.
My mind became clear as I continued to stare uselessly at my hands, part of me still wondering where the blood had gone. I was like Lady Macbeth, scrubbing and clawing madly at nothing. Out Damn Spot. Out, I say! Except this wasn’t a play, the blood was real; it just wasn’t on my hands anymore.
“Calm… Joclyn… calm.” Ilyan’s arms wrapped around me as his magic left my body. He pulled me to his chest, his hand running down my hair. “I’m here; it’s okay.”
I wanted to pull away from him; I wanted to run to Ryland. I grasped for the necklace, desperate to bring back the connection, desperate to see him again. Ilyan grabbed my hands and steadied them, his warmth moving into me again, the force of it weaker this time.
My screaming subsided into a low sob that racked through my chest. I forced my gaze away from my hands, surprised to see Ilyan’s bedroom and not the brown and orange of the room I had been given. Ilyan clutched me to him as I continued to cry, grateful that my tears were finally leaving.
“What happened, Joclyn?” he asked when my crying had passed enough I could finally talk.
“Ry... Ryland... he is in pain... so much pain.”
“Another T?uha? What happened, Siln??”
“I saw him; the bruises, the cuts... the blood. Ed... Edmund cut out his mark.” I felt Ilyan’s arms tense around me, his breathing increase in what I could only assume to be anger. “He was young... he didn’t recognize me. Why didn’t he recognize me, Ilyan?” The panic came back, that desperate edge creeping into my voice.
“Oh, Siln?, his mind is being deleted. He remembers less and less each day. Did he remember you eventually?”
“Yes, and before he left, I could have sworn it was him, that he wasn’t sixteen-year-old Ryland anymore; that it was really him. That he wasn’t sixteen-years-old anymore.” I felt Ilyan’s body relax a bit. “Is that good?”
“It means that all of him is still there, that he is still fighting.”
“Why did he look so young then?”
“Because as much as he fights, he is still losing the battle. The longer he fights it, the older he will look in your T?uhas. But when he forgets you completely, when he is only a child, then it will be too late.”
Ilyan’s words had a sharp edge that cut through me; it broke the dam I had made deep inside and let every single pent-up emotion and fear out in a tidal wave. I began crying uncontrollably again, but I didn’t want Ilyan to take the pain away and put me to sleep with his magic. I needed to feel it. I cried and clung to him as I let everything out.
I howled over the death of my mother, the image of her lifeless body, vivid and vibrant. I cried at the memory of our lunch, the last time we were together, and how I had given her everything that she wanted; the daughter she had always wanted me to be.
I sobbed over the loss of my normalcy. I balled up against Ilyan as I thought about the changes in my life, the drastic differences that had occurred within such a small amount of time.
I screamed with the agonizing pain of a broken heart; my voice wailed as it broke and bled in my throat. I felt my heart break into a million pieces as everything hit me simultaneously, for the last time. Every memory of Ryland flashed by, and although I wanted to smile and laugh, the memories only hurt. Hurt that I could not have him; hurt at how much everything had changed.
Through it all, Ilyan just held me, his wide hands rubbing my back. He shushed and cooed and sang to me as I cried, and all of it made me want to cry more, because his weren’t the arms I craved.
When it was done, I knew it was done. I knew I was stronger than the pain now.
“Why would he do that, Ilyan? Why would he cut the mark out?” Ilyan moved my hair away from my face, his finger lingering on my own mark. I jerked my head away, not wanting such an intimate touch from him.
“Do you remember when I told you the kiss is more like a poisonous bite? Well, the kiss itself is caused by a pool of poison. If it’s cut out, you release the poison into the person who bears the kiss.”
I gasped and the tears came back again.
“Will it kill him?”
“It can, but I think Edmund only hopes to weaken him further, and gain control over his magic that much faster.”
“Why? Why is he doing this?”
“A punishment probably, but also to increase his control. Edmund has always viewed Ryland as a weapon, and now he sees the best opportunity to use him as such.”