ANCHOR III

“Elena?!!”

The woman who held his heart stood in front of him, haggard and panting. Her crimson and black gown, her favourite one, was entirely ruffled and its skirt, covered in patches of dirt, as if it was a canvas. Those void like eyes of hers were shining with relief and an unidentifiable emotion, an emotion which he wished to uncover.

Was it shock? Disgust? No, he did not think so. She could never be disgusted with him. She, who understood him so completely, so deeply, in a way none had ever before. It was impractical, impossible, unthinkable for her to ever be disgusted by him.

Then… mayhaps, it was love? Yes, that sounds right, it must be love. He could imagine no other manner in which she could ever gaze upon him except with love.

"You haven't seen true love, boy", Pleiades reminded him. He could not bring himself to debate with him, afterall, he was right. He had seen love, yes, but never at its purest form. Thus, even if Elena gazed at him with outright love, he doubted he could identify it; for she could never gaze at him with false affections. He was sure of it. She would either love him purely or she would not- No, that's not right, she would love him, pure and true. There was no other alternative to their story.

His thoughts ended, rather abruptly, when he felt a sharp sting on his cheek.

Elena, standing right in his face, had her hand raised. Her face, which always looked so serene and loving, was twisted, ugly, vengeful as she stared at him with a scowl. She had slapped him. Why? What sin had he committed? No, that was an incorrect question, he had committed many. What sin had he committed against her? Perhaps, Luthor and his family had been her distant kin? If this was true, then he ought to have thanked Luthor before strangling him. At least, his worthless blood had produced something of worth.

Yet, in spite of her being the very representation of rage, her eyes, even now, told him another story. They still retained that look of relief, the unidentifiable emotion, albeit with specks of anger.

He was confused. Was she angry? Relieved? He did not know. And perhaps, neither did Elena. Truly, women were confusing creatures. Then again, he had seldom interacted with women in his life. Those, whom he did have interactions with, were not the type to whom he would yield his heart to. Until Elena, she was his first and only love. And will be, till his death.

“You! You fool!” Elena screamed, her voice filled with equal parts relief and anger, “Will you never realize it?! Or is it, that you're so fond of death, that you must go relentlessly seeking it!” Elena’s hand, the one that had slapped him, twitched. Her tone softened, losing all its previous vitriol, “Do you not realize, how much you mean to me? Or, do you refuse to realize it?”

“No, I do realize it. I know tha-” He was interrupted before he could continue by Elena.

“Then, why do you insist on such things, Charles?! Why is it… that each time, I believe, you shall not go on a fool's errand, you chase one immediately afterwards.” Charles looked away in guilt and equal parts, shame as Elena continued, “I had nearly collapsed when I got to know that you were heading here. And, it was not even you that I was hearing this from. No- no, it was from my serv- my associate! Do you even realize what that means?! Huh?!”

Charles nodded mutely and Elena let out a quiet wow.

“You realize this and yet, you do not learn. Will you amend your ways when you're finally dead? And have left me, all alone in this cruel world? Is that what you're aiming to achieve?!” Charles tried to speak but her rant continued, “No, you do not get to speak, Charles. I, have already nearly strangled Liliana. God damn it, I have to apologize to her, for that.”

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“What?” Charles questioned her. Elena coming close to strangling, strangling!, Liliana? Impossible.

“It's a long story, I wasn't in the right mind at the time. Afterall, it was not like, a certain someone's escapades had driven me half mad.” She sighed, “Regardless, what I was going to say. You're coming with me,”

Charles was perplexed and for good reason. As far as he knew, she did not have a home except the Royal Palace of the Blood Queen. And, he doubted that the Blood Queen would ever allow her servants to invite someone to stay at the castle. Especially, if that certain someone was him. It was more in tune with her character to behead him and mount it on her castle walls. In fact, he could already imagine it. His head mounted on the wall of her castle. And, beside it, Elena's as well. A revolting sight which caused wild and true fear to grip his heart.

No, I am never going to allow such a fate to befall Elena, Charles thought with conviction.

“Where would we even go? Bloodrock?” Elena blinked owlishly at his, albeit stupid, inquiry before bursting out in laughter.

“Bloodrock? Hahahaha, you would have to be executed at first sight there. No, no, we'll be going somewhere better. Much better,” Her voice had taken a nostalgic tone and she appeared lost in her thoughts. Her eyes seeing something, that he could not but wished to.

However, he was taken by surprise when she held his hand. He looked at her face dumbly and she merely gave him a serene yet seductive smile. Perhaps, this place wouldn't be that bad. It would definitely be an upgrade from his lackluster tents, at the very least. Besides, it was some place which she obviously held some level of reverence and love for.

Unbeknownst to Charles, this place would soon hold much more significance for him. Much much more than it ever held for Elena.

_________________________________________

Leyah yawned as she closed the book. She got off her chair and stretched. Her back popped satisfyingly. Ahh, now that feels good, She smiled in satisfaction as she placed the chair, taking extreme care so as not to even accidentally scratch the floorboards, back with the small coffee table nearby.

It was only when she had reached her room that she noticed the book in her hand. She sighed. She had again carried the book with her. Usually, she would trek all the way back to the deepest level of the library to place it back. But not today, she was far too exhausted to be bothered. The book had become a constant in her life now, alarmingly so in her opinion. Yet, she could not bring herself to put it down. It was like a drug. Without having read it at least once throughout the day, she would feel incomplete, uncomfortable, guilty, lonely but most of all, fear. Fear of what or for what? She did not know. Some part of her even doubted if she should even wish to know it.

She often found herself, doubting herself for the past week. Ever since, she has picked up that book, she has felt so. With each passing day, it keeps on increasing.

Often, she has gone for hours without food and water. It would not be until she closed that book that she would be struck by thirst and hunger. The intensity of which would shock her, making her wonder how she hadn't collapsed by then.

One day, she had read the book from morning to night. She had thought it had been only a few minutes until she had peeked out the window. Even then, in spite of having sat for hours upon hours with that book; she had not felt satisfied and neither had she felt tired, instead she had felt this sense of accomplishment arise within her.

It was all, rather strange. Too strange for her liking. Sometimes, she wished to go and attend mass occuring at the Church of Lilac in the town nearby and in that instant, she would be struck by an overwhelming well of laziness. She had forced herself once to attend the mass, once. Never again.

From that day, she had decided that perhaps it was better to remain here. In this library, this second home- No, no, not a home. Just a place of work, a temporary residence, never a home.

She folded her clothes neatly and placed them in the laundry basket before reciting a short prayer. She would have placed the book at the study table in the room, however, she wished to have it on her bedside table and thus, that's where it went. Perfect.

As she lay down and drifted to sleep, taking comfort in the placid and soothing embrace of her dreams. She was unable to know of the presence within her room, watching her, observing her, studying her.