In the holding room, while our fates were being decided, John paced in between the two of us. Our own respective jailers kept us on opposite sides of the room, facing into the corner; an obvious attempt to keep us from communicating. Several minutes passed silently, where I focused on nothing but the steady breathing of the man in the opposite corner.
William’s voice filled the stagnant, empty space. “I’m so sorry, Bryn. If I could go back, I’d change it all—I’d erase myself from your life—”
“That’s quite enough, Mr. Hayward,” John commanded. “Your statement has been heard, and I for one, would be quite content to never hear your pitiful voice again.”
“I wouldn’t change a thing,” I whispered through the airways of my tightened throat. I felt the grips tighten over my upper arms in warning.
The next sound I heard was grotesquely familiar, followed by the sound of air rushing from his lungs. I spun my head away from the corner I was staring into to see what had happened. He was bent over slightly, one of his guards at his side with the balled up fist that had initiated the blow causing the sickening sound.
“Stop it!” I screamed, wriggling against my captors. “William?” The struggling wasn’t getting me anywhere.
“I’m fine. Don’t worry.” He sounded already recovered, and when I managed another look over my shoulder, he was standing just as solidly as if nothing had happened.
“If I hear so much as another disgruntled sigh from either one of you, I’ll order a blow be delivered to Bryn instead.” Of course, John would arrow in on William’s weak spot. I was just as capable of recovering as he was (perhaps not as quickly), but I knew William would utter nothing else with this ultimatum on the table.
“We’re ready,” a voice called out from the chambers, its raspy origins indicative of Julius.
John motioned us forward, and he followed behind. William urged his party in front of mine, resolve scorching in his eyes. As we walked, I felt an overwhelming sense of fear that the certainty I’d had of my vision, had perhaps been misplaced.
Instead of symbolizing my death, was the circle of flames that held me within them an indicator of what my future would be after this fateful day and the verdict read from the Council? A lifeless, pitifully small void that kept me encapsulated in the agony of my loss, the flames jailing me, keeping me separated from him.
I urged these thoughts from my mind. I wouldn’t allow these doubts to take seed and grow roots, crippling my bustling courage. He would not die today . . . or any day forward.
My captors lurched me to a stop with more force than necessary in front of the Councilmen. I heard William growl his disapproval at the men on either side of me.
John’s footsteps could still be heard following behind us, when William’s last ditch plea commenced, “I know the Council’s decision has been made, and with all due respect, I would like to make one final appeal to you.” His face cut through all the carefully constructed pretenses he’d managed to this point, allowing the sincerity of his words to ring. “I understand the necessity for punishment to be dealt in such a case as this, and you must realize my death carries a much greater message and warning to my fellow Guardians. We all know that Bryn’s death is superfluous and merely requested due to the injured ego of one man.”
His head turned to me, still emotion-filled with what appeared to be a plea for my forgiveness. “My life is void as soon as you command it, Gentlemen. My only request is that I have your assurances Bryn leaves here today unharmed.”
“NO!” I shouted with such pain, a few of the Councilmen’s faces looked bewildered when they viewed the woman shrieking in agony before them. It was in this weak moment—between the sobs that felt they would tear me apart—I knew the Council saw through William’s assurances of the casualness of our relationship. Even to a blind-mute, there could be no mistaking the love shared between us. I tried desperately to form the words of my rebuttal—to remind the Council who it was that needed to die here today—but my weakened spirit and sobs crippled me as the seconds ticked by.
“Gentleman?” William asked expectantly. “Are we in agreement then?”
“Again, Mr. Hayward, the Council thanks you for your admissions here today, but with all due respect,” Draco mimicked William’s words with spite. “We’ve already made our decision.”
John came to his resting place between us, facing the Council with anticipation as Draco continued, “We all agree with you, Mr. Hayward, that you are the more guilty of the two parties in question.”
I tried to straighten the limp limbs of my lower body, but couldn’t find the strength I needed to get them to respond. I rocked like a toddler in the rigid holds of Thomas and Dante.
“But we are also quite aware of the popularity you have within the Guardian community, and your influence on them. While we are the strongest Alliance in existence, I don’t believe we could resist the force of an attack from the entire community of Guardians when they came at us.” A few Councilmen nodded their obvious agreement, but John looked obstinate and in absolute disagreement.
“Our actions of taking your life today would unite them all, and we would have a war on our hands . . .”
William’s face contorted with doubt.
“You can’t possibly believe with all the previous indicators, and now the newest little addition to your impressive repertoire of gifts, they would let their so-called chosen one’s death go unpunished?” Draco spat the words, as if they were venom in his mouth.
William broke into some kind of frantic rebuttal, but I didn’t hear any of it. The tide had turned. My vision was correct. Relief flooded me, making my head light with euphoria when the dread that had been mine imagining William’s death, wisped away—like a feather in a light breeze.
I was brought back from my euphoric state when Draco’s chair screeched behind him, and he flashed up in his spot. “That is quite enough from you, Mr. Hayward. Another word from you and we will make the continued proceedings today less than comfortable—”
William shouted back defiantly at him, “Make them less comfortable!”
Draco turned to me. “I wasn’t referring to you Mr. Hayward, when I made my threat.”
Again, these men all knew where William’s weak spot was in his seemingly flawless suit of armor that shone with his courage and selflessness—there was one gaping flaw, positioned over his heart . . . me.
Draco’s normal calm and composure resurfaced just as quickly as his outburst had, and he recommenced the businesslike proceedings. “It is the unanimous verdict of the Council here today, that in order to serve as some penance for the wrongs and treachery done to John Townsend, we rule for the immediate and eternal death of . . .”
Stillness overcame me, and peace comforted me. Not sure of what kind of afterlife was held for those that passed through the confines of Immortality or Mortality, I felt reasonably certain I would be able to carry the sweet memories of the time William and I had shared, and the love that surpassed an eternity of lifetimes in the short time we’d been allotted. With this certainty came the courage and strength I needed to straighten the wobbling legs beneath me, and stand strongly as my verdict was read.
Draco paused, a calculated attempt at creating an ominous air, before speaking the name I already knew.
“Miss Bryn Dawson.”
The words met my ears with an immediate kind of liberation, and I let out a relieved sigh.
And then I heard the shattering screams beside me, and saw the man I loved fall to the ground, his hands gripping his head. Another scream roared through his chest, causing the edges of my soul to weaken, as if it couldn’t handle the pain searing through the being that made up its other half.
There were no words to describe the agony charging through the form of William crumpled on the ground, nor my instant and equally matched agony tearing through me having to witness his pain. I couldn’t imagine anything more horrific than what was being played before me . . . and I realized this with the knowledge that my own death was minutes away.
I struggled like a lunatic against the men holding me back. They must have mistaken my urgent struggles from being read my death sentence, and not because the one I cared about more than myself lay on the floor wrenching with anguish.
The two men who’d kept hold of William, had let him fall and they now stood over him cautiously, looking uncomfortable. Stella had kneeled beside him when he’d gone down, and she stayed there with her hand continuing to rest monumentally on his back. Her eyes glanced up to mine, with wickedness burning in them. Her lips turned up in a smile of vindication.
I felt a spark ignite within me, lighting something I hadn’t felt before—a physical strength that grew with each passing moment. I lurched forward again, and this time, I was able to budge the monster-sized men holding me back. Their surprise was matched by my own, as I felt their grips tighten with a steel-trap-like effect. A spiteful smile was my only response as I continued to feel the strength building within me, as whatever had ignited it burnt with furiousness through my veins.
John, who’d been standing over William with the stance of a conqueror, turned his head to me and winked. The tongues of spreading fire burst, and when I lurched forward this time, I broke easily through the hands that held me. John’s eyes widened, and he took a defensive stance, as if interpreting my jailbreak and sprint forward to be intended for him, but I wouldn’t waste a moment of my temporary freedom on the likes of John Townsend.
It took me five strides to get to him, and on the fifth I slid into a crouch beside where he laid, covering him with my arms. I looked up briefly in response to the two shadows hovering over us, but the faces of the two men looked just as confused and torn as before, and I didn’t worry—at least immediately—they would be pulling us apart.
I knew I had precious seconds only, so I leaned my head down to where his forehead rested against the stone floor. His body didn’t respond to my sudden closeness. I could only hope the words I said to him now would make their way to his consciousness someday soon when he recovered—my final tribute and goodbye to all that had been ours.
“William?” I questioned idiotically, not really expecting an answer—although I thought I detected the slightest bit of recognition harden over his limp body.
“You will always know how much I loved you after today, and I will forever know how much you loved me, too.” I removed one of my hands from his shoulder so I could sweep the long tangles of hair that had fallen over his face. When I settled it behind his ear, I kissed his cheek.
I felt a cool hand come to rest just above the silk of the back of my nightgown and all the prior strength tearing through me came to a halt, and I weakened beneath it. I didn’t need to check behind me to see whose hand it was. Only one person I knew of in this room could be guilty of incapacitating the power of another Immortal.
Weakened beyond repair, or so it seemed, John came around me and grabbed hold of me from under my arms, pulling me back—threatening to separate me from the one I held to with urgency. I wasn’t done yet . . . I still had one last thing to say.