Joshua's eyes fluttered open, greeted by the familiar ceiling of his room. The soft morning light filtered through the curtains, casting a haze over his surroundings. His gaze drifted down, he was lying in bed. But then, pain lanced through his skull like a dagger, and he groaned, bolting upright and clutching his head.
His fingers brushed against rough fabric. Bandages.
And then he remembered.
His eyes widened in horror.
"Amy… Where's Amy?" he shouted, his voice cracking with desperation, though the stabbing in his head persisted.
Startled by the outburst, Blanchette jolted awake from the chair beside his bed. She had been resting her head near his side. With bleary eyes and a sharp inhale, she quickly straightened and placed a calming hand on his shoulder.
"Joshua… Amy died," she said gently, her voice low, tender and final.
The words hit him like a slab of stone. His breath caught, and the color drained from his face. He stared blankly at the blankets, heart thudding in the silence.
Blanchette leaned forward and wrapped her arms around him, holding tightly, as though trying to keep him from crumbling entirely.
"I heard what happened," she whispered. "You and Amy… you went to the slums. You were attacked by three werewolves. You killed them but she didn't make it. You passed out. Jonathan found you both. Joshua… it's not your fault."
But the pain returned. Sharper this time. And the words, her next words, pierced deeper than any wound.
"It's all your fault. Why couldn't you save her after the pledge you made? You're nothing but a monster."
Joshua blinked. Her voice twisted in his ears, contorting into something cruel. He pushed her away, breath ragged, eyes wide in disbelief.
Blanchette was gone.
In her place sat Amy, her lifeless body lying on the bed, her blood soaking the sheets. Her entrails spilled grotesquely, her hollow eyes staring right into his soul.
He gasped, recoiling toward the corner of the bed, shaking.
And then, just as quickly, Amy was gone. Blanchette sat where she had been, concern written all over her face.
"What's wrong, Joshua? Amy's funeral is tomorrow…" she said softly.
Another jolt of pain shot through his skull.
Blanchette's form shimmered again, twisting, warping and turned back into Amy, drenched in blood.
"Joshua… this is all your fault," she rasped, gesturing to the gaping wound in her gut. "Look what you've done to me."
He screamed, flinging himself off the bed and stumbling toward the door. He ran, through the hallway, breath shallow, heart racing, soaked in sweat. Then he slammed into someone and fell backward.
Jonathan.
"How are you holding up, Joshua?" he asked softly. "I know her death is hard, but you have to pull..."
Pain again. That same blinding headache.
Jonathan's expression shifted in Joshua's vision, turning furious.
"You bastard! You caused my daughter to die! It's all your fault! Couldn't you use your brain and think? Taking her to the slums, how stupid can you be!?"
"No… I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry…" Joshua mumbled as he scrambled away, muttering the words like a prayer. He ran outside, his bare feet dragging through the garden dirt, pajamas stained with soil and tears.
He tripped and collapsed against a tree, holding his throbbing head. His chest heaved.
Then, a hand touched his shoulder.
He looked up.
Lancelot was there, crouched beside him, smiling, though it was clearly forced.
The pain ebbed.
Lancelot sat next to him against the tree. "So… what's up?"
Joshua gave him a crooked, broken smile.
"What do you mean, 'what's up'? I caused Amy to die… It's all my fault. My fault… my fault…"
Lancelot laughed, an oddly timed, hollow chuckle that startled Joshua out of his spiral.
"So what? She died. It's sad, yeah but are you going to mope forever? Or are you going to get stronger, never let this happen again, and own up to your mistakes like a man? Or run from them like a coward?"
Joshua stared at him, stunned. Then he looked down at his wrist.
A bracelet. Woven with silver steel threads. Amy made it for him.
"…You're right," Joshua whispered. "Tomorrow, I'll mourn her. My friend. And I'll wear this bracelet with pride. I won't let anyone else share her fate."
They sat in silence under the tree for a while. Joshua closed his eyes, letting memories of Amy fill his mind, from her laughter at breakfast to her teasing smirk at sunset.
Eventually, Lancelot stood and stretched. "Alright. Let's head back."
"Yeah… Let's go back inside."
They walked through the halls, side by side.
"So…" Joshua said, nudging him, "Did you fix things with Merlin yet?"
Lancelot looked away, brows furrowed. "No… I'm still figuring stuff out."
Joshua shrugged with a teasing grin. "Okay, dude. Whatever you say. Just don't make the wrong choice."
They reached their room. The door creaked open.
Merlin and Blanchette were inside, both looking tired and tense.
Joshua raised a hand awkwardly. "Hey, guys."
The reaction was swift. Both girls glared at him.
"What do you mean 'hey guys'?" Merlin snapped, eyes blazing. "Blanchette was worried sick!"
"You look worried too. Aww, my caring sister," Joshua mocked.
Merlin's hand flew before he could react, smack. She struck his bandaged head, reopening the wound. Blood seeped through the cloth as Joshua swayed, eyes glassy.
"Joshua!" Blanchette cried. "Don't die!"
Panicking, Merlin quickly lowered him to sit and began healing the wound with frantic hands, sweat dripping down her brow.
"Whew… I'm done," she muttered. "He should be okay now. Sorry… I'm just so used to hitting you…"
"You almost killed me!" Joshua shouted, eyes wide with shock.
"I said sorry! Where were you anyway?"
Joshua sighed. "I was in the garden. Lancelot found me… helped me calm down."
Merlin's face twisted with disgust. She cast a glare at Lancelot, who avoided her gaze, eyes heavy with guilt.
"I'm heading to my room. It's late," she muttered, brushing past him and disappearing down the hall.
Blanchette stepped in and gave Joshua one more hug. "I'm glad you're okay again, Joshua." Then she pulled away and left.
Joshua and Lancelot changed into fresh pajamas and slipped into their beds.
A long, quiet moment passed.
"Lancelot," Joshua whispered. "You still awake?"
Lancelot lay still, pretending to be asleep.
Joshua raised his arm, staring at the bracelet glinting in the moonlight.
Then the tears came. Quiet at first, then deep and gut-wrenching. Mucus dripped from his nose, his chest trembled.
"I'm sorry, Amy… I'm sorry, Amy…"
The whispers continued until his arm fell limp beside him and sleep claimed him.
Lancelot listened to it all.
And only after the room was filled with soft snores… did he finally close his eyes.