Heresy, Last Part

Seconds melted into minutes. Sounds perished under the ringing of my ears. Even forming thoughts was a struggle against the current of fatigue washing over me.

The only solid feeling I could grab hold of was a mixture of regret and rage. Some I could throw at Betta for not listening to me, yet most of it I'd keep for myself—use it as a lash to flail my skin as atonement.

Because none of this would have happened if it wasn't for my actions.

…

At some point, the battle above the ground that buried me had quieted—perhaps reaching some kind of conclusion.

Over time, I began hearing scraping and cracking, louder every second.

Is someone there?

Then light blinded me and a crushing weight was lifted off me. I began feeling parts of my body again as they healed themselves. My blurred vision focused, gradually making out the details of the figure above me.

Full of dirt, bloodied and breathing heavily. The cracks in her shell oozed blue liquid—but what chilled my skin was the look on her eyes. Those were the eyes of a kid who'd been abused and beaten beyond what anyone ever deserved.

"W-what… happened?"

At my words, she looked away and… a tear came flowing down her face.

She could even cry.

What part of her is a monster, Betta?

Her arms lifted me up in an embrace, both tighter and gentler than any other hug she'd given until now. After letting go she stood up and ran out of my sight—in the direction of the exit.

I remained lying on the ground, staring at the ceiling, not checking my surroundings—fearing what I might find if I did.

Until I heard a wheeze followed by hoarse breathing.

Betta is alive.

I straightened to look in the direction of the sounds. Not much light came from the entrance of the cave, but it was enough to see it clearly—too clearly. A mass of ripped flesh, cracked ribs sticking out and dripping drops of red. And they moved. They pulsed.

Betta was breathing despite the gaping hole in her chest. Her eyes looked at nothing, lost in a void, but retaining the glimmer of life. Seeing her alive, a smile tried to tug my lips despite how inappropriate it would be.

Not the time. Focus.

I ran to her as fast as my body allowed and almost stumbled on some rock that was in the way—or maybe a tree trunk? Whatever it was, I didn't have time for it. Reaching Betta, I began healing her with what little strength I had. My hands trembled and the light they emitted waned, but it should be enough to keep her alive. I'd properly heal her later.

"Cory…?" She murmured, eyes still lost in nothingness. "That you?"

"Yes. You're going to be alright, don't worry."

"How…" A cough escaped her, spilling a line of blood from the corner of her lips. "How is he?"

He?

Who?

"What do you mean?"

"O-Oscar."

The light in my hands stifled, but the shaking remained—and worsened almost to the point of convulsion. What I'd stumbled upon earlier was no rock.

Don't look behind.

Don't do it.

I turned around.

Under the dim light that came from the entrance, I could make out a lying silhouette. Big and black—its features hard to distinguish in the darkness.

But I'd never confuse them for anyone else's.

"OSCAR!"

I rushed to check on him.

Don't. Just don't.

Please, don't do this to me.

His eyes were open yet unblinking—a hole ran straight through his chest, the ground underneath visible.

This can't be happening.

It cannot be real.

I squeezed every single drop of magic out of my body. Strangled myself to the point where…

Even my consciousness…

Stay awake.

You must save him.

The hole in his chest closed like it had never been there, but he remained unmoving, dry, dead.

He won't…

I lost him…

I can't.

My body collapsed on top of him. I didn't even care to think about all the other issues I needed to address, like Betta's still open wound. Nothing was worth it anymore.

Moving, thinking, breathing—all were too much effort.

Just let it all end here.

I can't face the consequences of everything I've done wrong—not without him.

So let me die and escape from all of it.

…

I could feel… the loss of feeling.

The ache in my knees at the rough ground faded. My fingers had been shaking and burning this entire time, but now were growing numb. Even the agony in my chest, the twisting and screaming so intense that made it seem preferable to slit myself open and rip out whatever was hurting so much… even that calmed down—becoming a ripple in an ocean too wide to be disturbed.

Empty. A plain lack of pain. Nothingness became everything I could wish for. It would become my future from now on. All that was left was to quiet the small buzzing at the bottom. Annoying and insistent—it stood in the way of my peace.

Go away.

Leave me alone.

"Is that really what you want, Dori?"

…

It is.

"... I see. It's mean of me to say this, but I don't want this for you."

…

Divines damn it.

Why? Anything else is too painful. Just let me get away from it all.

"If you want this so much, why do you feel so guilty about it?"

…

"Sorry, you must be going through a lot. But even then, I… I still don't want you to give up. So please, give it another try."

One more try, one more chance—those words made me remember something.

The taboo ritual described in the tablets that had been passed through the Paladins of Prudence. A secret kept even from the Council itself.

Using that would earn me the wrath of the Divines, provided they existed.

Reviving Oscar would be an offense to life itself.

But I'd be able to face my crimes. Living would still be agony and there was so much I had to take responsibility for—yet all of it would become bearable if I had him with me.

I might even find a way to save Princess.

ᗢ⫘⫘⫘⫘𖦹⫘⫘⫘⫘♡

One month after the death of Justice.

I couldn't.

Any time I tried to do something, it would fail.

Because I was a failure.

By now, almost every knight from the capital was searching for the Cursed Prince, the one I used to call Princess—the one who killed Justice.

How foolish.

That killer was right here, locked in the dungeons.

It was so dark I couldn't see my own hands in front of my face. As it should be.

If I was blind and isolated, I couldn't see the consequences of my actions, nor make new mistakes that would ruin more lives.

This was the best for everyone.

Everyone except…

"Good morning, Dori, how are you feeling today?"

"Is it even morning?"

"Yup, I checked by going through the roof. Couldn't get all the way outside because of the limits of our bond and all, but I found a pair of guards greeting each other."

"I see. Good morning, Oscar." Every day, I was able to inject a little more energy into my voice. It was artificial, a mediocre imitation of feelings I vaguely remembered.

Unlike me, he didn't deserve to be chained like this, so the least I could do was not bring his mood down. A small effort to humor him. He'd think it a sign of me moving on, of recovering from my wounds, and that would make him happier.

I'd shamelessly deceive him like this.

And I wouldn't set him free even if I could, because I needed him far more than he could ever imagine.

His smile, even though I couldn't see it, was the one reason I kept going.

And it didn't matter that I hadn't fixed any of the problems I'd created. I was paying for them here in this dungeon, taking responsibility—so it was all good.

I could spend the rest of my life like this.

Imprisoned for taking care of a monster and attempting a forbidden ritual. It seemed they also hadn't realized the spell described in the tablets wasn't an actual resurrection. They'd misunderstood it like me, and thus they believed the ritual had failed.

The tablets were destroyed and I was stripped of the lands I'd been given as a Paladin, but I didn't care about them anyway. Just another luxury that came with the title, and one I wasn't even making use of.

What I didn't appreciate too much was the unfair treatment they gave to Mahi, my childhood friend. She'd been made a member of the Council thanks to me, and was now fired because of me. I'd both fulfilled her dream then broken it up right in front of her.

Just another sin to add to my pile—like how I'd abandoned Betta with her barely treated wound, almost killing her too.

And again, I was currently imprisoned for those, receiving my just punishment.

As far as I knew, the Council hadn't yet made a public announcement about my crimes, and when they did they'd likely make up a lie and say I died heroically like Oscar. Admitting that a Paladin had betrayed their oath would be far too big of a blow for humanity.

But they couldn't erase me from history just yet. Not while I still had my powers. I should lose them soon, though, since I'd blasphemed against the Divines themselves, the very source of my Blessing. Anyone who did such a thing was supposed to lose their magic, assuming that wasn't another made up ancient tale.

Thus, from time to time a group of scholars and knights would come and run a few tests of my powers, checking if they'd been weakening. When I inevitably lost them, the search for the next Prudence would begin—someone who'd no doubt be a much better Paladin than I ever was.

I had set the standards so low that anyone would be able to surpass them, although my poor successor would also have to fix the mess I'd created.

And in the meantime, I'd spend the rest of my life here, atoning for my sins.

It was perfect.