Souls Unfractured

But standing here, over Flame, right now, staring at his anguished face—his sharp features: slightly crooked nose, full lips, dark short beard, and those soulful eyes, those incredibly long black lashes—a feeling previously unknown to me bloomed in my heart, filling me with light. With an incredible heat. This close, I felt a tension spark between us. I felt something magnetic surge in the air.

I… I wanted him as my own. In this moment, seeing the man who had become the center of my world, breaking, I wanted nothing more than to save him. To gift him the peace he so richly deserved, even if it meant sacrificing my newly-awakened heart in the process.

On a loud hiss, Flame’s body stiffened. My grip tightened on the handle of the knife. It felt like a ton weight in my hand, but I knew what I had to do. For Flame, I told myself, You must do this for Flame.

Steadying my shaking grip, I raised the blade, leaving it suspended it in the air. I inhaled deeply, then looked down at Flame. His beautiful eyes stalked me. With tears filling my eyes, I whispered, “Flame… I know you are lost right now. But I want to save you. I want to save you as you have so often saved me.” I swallowed the lump clogging my throat and continued. “I know you want eternal peace, but… but… I cannot… I cannot take your life.”

Tears streamed from my eyes, but I lowered my mouth to a few inches from his ear. “I know the flames torture you greatly. And I know you live with pain. I know you no longer want to live. I…” I sniffed back my emotions as Flame became eerily still. “I have been there too. I have felt the urge to fade, to never wake again. But then something happened to me. Someone happened to me… You.”   

Flame’s erratic breathing blew against the hair falling over my face, but he didn’t move. His body was completely and utterly still.

Rearing back slightly, I searched his glazed eyes and prayed to the Almighty that he was seeing me. That he could hear my words. I itched to run my fingers through his hair, like I had seen Mae do to Styx, but I held back.

“I have watched you, Flame. I have watched you as you have watched me. And I have seen you free the flames. I have counted with you from my window as you have administered the slashes to your flesh, releasing what you believe runs within you.” My legs began to shake as I lifted the knife, and lined up the blade over his arm. “I will not take your life, but I will help you release the flames. I will stay here with you, in this room, until you come back to me. Until my Flame breaks back through.”

I lowered the tip of the blade to a patch of unharmed skin on Flame’s forearm. Just before my throat closed from what I was about to do, I hushed out, “I will not take your life, Flame, for it is far too precious to lose.”

Bracing my hand, I pressed the sharp blade into Flame’s skin and dragged it along the flesh. As the laceration surfaced and the blood began to flow, it was a balm to Flame’s torment. “One,” I whispered aloud, unable to take my eyes off his face. Flame’s wide exhausted stare remained fixed upon mine. But they became leaden, leaden with relief.

I struck again. “Two,” I continued to count, “three, four, five.” Flame’s body began to relax, his straining arms and legs, under the heavy pull of the ties, stilled. I looked at his arm, now coated with a fresh sheen of blood, and forced myself to continue. Everything inside of me screamed at me to stop hurting him, but I knew I had to continue. I had to reach eleven.

Repositioning the blade to his upper arm, I commenced the cutting. “Six, seven, eight, nine.” Nausea built in my throat at having to slash him. I was unsure if I could keep going, when Flame’s arm twitched, and I heard him voice quietly, “Ten.”

Flame’s dark eyes were now alert, watching me. Tears tumbled down my face. Flame inhaled a labored breath, and rasped again, “Ten.”  

Without moving my eyes from his, I sliced at his skin. Flame’s eyelids fluttered in relief as I said, “Ten.”

Repositioning the blade, Flame’s chest expanded on an expectant breath. Cutting deep, I choked out, “Eleven.”

As if a cool shower of water had extinguished the flames in his blood, Flame sagged back on the bed, his stuttered breathing becoming even.

Instantly dropping the knife to the floor, I stared down at my hand, now spattered with Flame's blood. I felt sick as I stared at the red liquid. Averting my gaze, it landed on Flame’s prone body. He looked exhausted, his hands and feet now unmoving under the tight ties. But it was his face that encouraged me to find a modicum of peace with what I had just done. His beautiful face, with its features smooth and relaxed. And his eyes.  His half-lidded eyes silently thanking me. I had successfully battled the darkness that was consuming his soul.