Silence reigned over the tent, only briefly being interrupted by prolonged high-pitched cries when the needle held between Annia's finger tips pierced through the thin skin on Maia's throat.

The youngest Nix brother stood crunched next to the two women, his hands over his head trembling, still tainted with crimson. He whispered indistinguishable mumbles to himself as he rocked back and forth, his hair falling forward, obscuring his features, revealing the paleness of the back of his neck. Veins tensed down to his back, twitching whenever the wail filled the air.

Crassus' face was devoid of its tan complexion, oddly pale, in an expression of fright. The skin beneath both his eyes had become darker than it had been earlier that day, and his sight was stuck to the woman laying down on the bed of weeds. He found himself holding his breath each time the sharp metal tip punctured its way into her jugular, tightening the skin behind it.

"You two need to let her rest," Annia finally said, tying the last stitch and cutting the string. "Luckily you found her when you did. Any later and it could have been too late."

"It's all my fault," Rex blurted out, no longer baring the weight of his own conscience, "they always die because of me."

His voice was hoarse and it trembled as he tried to muffle his agitated breathing. Crassus tightened his fists, and he felt a chill run down his back as he recalled a too similar image flashing before his eyes.

His mother's senseless body was on the ground, in the middle of the Nest's square; Rex's mother's hands stained with blood, while his younger brother and sister stared in disbelief.

He had only been twelve years old then, his youngest brother only five, and despite their raw age, they knew exactly what had happened.

The two boys knew that day, that death will hunt their fate, striking down mercilessly whoever they cared about.

Crassus felt a lump forming in his throat. He tried to swallow in an attempt to calm down, but his mouth ran dry. He glanced between his brother and Maia, and blinked absently.

The curtains at the entrance of the tent parted, and Prisscil, who looked rather unphased, walked inside, with a small stash in his hand.

"I brought what you told me," he said, and rummaged through his leather bag, pulling out a bunch of golden leaf stacks, "Vision said the wound sods should be fresh enough."

"Vencrossian?" Annia questioned.

"Cirian," he corrected, handing them to her.

The young man threw Rex a puzzled look, he was now digging his claws into his own arm, continuing his back-and-forth movement.

"You brought the best kind," nodded Annia, and grabbed a small container, spilling its content over the fresh stiches. "These must have cost you plenty Valkyres." Prisscil shrugged. The sons of Gamza rarely bought the things they possessed.

The familiar cries filled the confined place again and again, and Rex raised his gaze like a deer in the headlights. His eyes were red, and his jaw clenched together.

"Tell me what to do to help," Rex begged, "please, please tell me there is something I can do."

"I told you to leave," repeated Annia, as she wrapped the wound sods over Maia's neck, "there is nothing for you to do here."

The older Nix brother fixed his eyes on the passed out woman, and he felt his insides twisting uncomfortably, and he was sure he would puke any moment then.

"The people need you," Annia reminded Crassus, fixing her eyes on him as he was pressing his hand over his mouth, "I know you are worried for your brother, but what is done is done."

"Our people always come first; I know that much..." he said. His pulse thumped in his temples, and he could have sworn to the gods that his head was splitting in half.

"She might wake up any mom-"

Crassus gagged uncontrollably, and rushed out the door, Gamza's son, following him behind.

"You should leave, Rex," Annia told him, as she did repeatedly since he rushed with her in his arms, begging for help.

"I can't," he said, "I won't leave her. I shouldn't have left her alone."

"Do you really believe she'll want to see you once she wakes up?"

Rex dug his teeth into his lower lip, but didn't give her an answer.

"I know what you must be feeling right now, but-"

"No, Annia, you don't," he blurted out, running a hand through his white locks, pinning them backward, "nobody ever died because of you!"

Annia frowned at his remark, and exhaling sharply she eyed him up and down.

"I'm sorry," Rex quickly added. "I didn't mean it like that..."

"You are making it hard to be liked when you don't listen to anyone."

She rubbed her hands together in a futile attempt of cleaning the red stains. It occurred to her that many times there was nothing she could do for others, even if she wanted to. But Rex's words cut deeper then he probably meant them.

"I don't want for her to be gone..." Rex muttered, rubbing his fingers across his forehead.

"Have it your way," the woman said, grabbing the remaining things she used to aid Maia's wounds, and rushed outside the tent, leaving Rex alone with her.

The air was heavy, and he could hear the people outside walking around in a frantic manner. He held his breath and curled next to the weed bed.

Only the gods knew how many times he prayed before to have her this close.

Rex's hands trembled as he gently brushed his fingers against Maia's cheek, wiping away small sweat droplets that slid downward. Thin moonlight streks peaked through the ragged curtains of the tent playfully reflecting over the two.

"I am sorry," he whispered, his voice hoarse.

He grabbed her hand in his, and brushed his lips tenderly against it. It puzzled him how much he wanted her. But he concluded that this must have been the worst thing for her.

This couldn't have been love. You don't destroy the things you love.

"Please," he prayed, "I promise not to tempt myself any longer."

The man looked towards the half moon outside, and prayed to the Mother of the sky for the hundredth time that night.

"I promise not to dwell on these feeling any longer," he murmured. "Just... Please, oh, please," he begged, "Please let her live."

He laid his forehead next to Maia, and swore to himself that he will send her back if she survived this.

Even if that meant he would meet his own death.

After all, he didn't love her. He convinced himself.

A mumbled murmur suddenly interrupted his trail of thought, and he jolted upwards, feeling his chest tightening around his heart.

The moonlight shining through the curtains suddenly felt warm, and as he gazed down, he saw Maia's eyelashes flutter lazily.

For a brief moment, she thought that she was in a dream. She slowly moved her fingers, tightening her grip on his palm. Blurry images distorted in front of her and she parted her lips, in an attempt to speak out.

Sharp pain.

Thin tear lines ran down from her eyes as she brought her hands to her throat, and reality hit her like a ton of bricks. She looked around, disoriented, trying to figure out where she was. Her body ached, her head throbbed, and her heart felt heavy.

"You shouldn't move too much," Rex softly whispered, pulling his hand away.

Maia blinked slowly, then looked down at her hands stained with red, and then it all came back to her. The pain, the despair, the overwhelming sense of hopelessness that consumed her just a little while ago. She had tried to end her life, and the fact that she was still alive was a jolt to her mind and soul.

As she laid there, trying to recollect her thoughts and make sense of what had happened, she locked eyes with Rex. And both of them felt a stinging sensation in their chest.

She looked away quickly, then turned her head back to him, and saw him sitting there, tears streaming down his pale face, his garments tainted with blood.

Her blood.

His eyes met hers once more, and she could see the pain and sadness in them.

Guilt.

She wanted to reach out, to comfort him, but she couldn't find the words. Not that there were any.

Maybe it was because he was the last thing she thought of. Or maybe because it was his voice she recalled last. But for a split second, she was glad she didn't die.

All she could muster, however, was a weak 'Why?', which was more painful than she expected.

As Maia wondered why he wanted to keep her alive, Rex swore to himself, that she will be the last person in the seven kingdoms to receive his love.

He didn't want to be like his mother, overpowered by her emotions. If he didn't feel anything for Maia, death wouldn't follow her.

His love was poison, and in that moment he promised the gods he would do anything to send her back where she came from.