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I should've known she hadn't called my name just to find me.

Her eyes, once green like the summer forest under starlight, have become dull and lifeless.

It's as disturbing as her fragile frame and sunken cheeks. Even under that thick fur dress draping over her body, she can't hide that she's lost her robust figure. Her skin almost blends into the surrounding snow, and her brown locks could've been cut from the deceased.

Her stare hardens as she keeps the arrow aimed at my heart, prepared to let it go at any moment.

The Lydia I knew was so much more than a skeleton with the eyes of the dead. She was vigorous, with a snappy tongue coupled with laughter and kindness. Her stare was so much softer, just making eye-contact was a comfort at times.

My blood runs cold despite having my heavy, deer fur coat and my dark brown beard to keep me warm. Why is she starving? Why is she pointing an arrow at me? She loves me, doesn’t she?

What have they done to her?

“Lydia…” is all I manage. My body remains rigid under her stare.

Her trembling breath echoes my own. “You….” Tears prick her eyes. “You manipulated me.”

The words might as well have been the arrow. Manipulated her? Me? What kind of tricks have they been playing on her? “No. I-”

“Kill him,” a man snaps.

I jerk my head towards the crunching of snow. Swamp-colored eyes glare back, wavy black locks blowing in his face. “It's the only way to set you free, Lydia.”

I narrow my dark eyes. I should've known he would do something like this. “I knew you were a fool, Arthur, but I didn't think you'd go as far as to manipulate your own sister.”

“I expect nothing less of a dreamscreecher.” He stands beside Lydia as twigs break around me, revealing an army of snickering men. “Using that tongue of deceit seems to be their strong suit.”

My muscles twitch, teeth grinding together. If it weren't for Lydia, I would’ve torn off his head a long time ago. He doesn't know shit about us.

I scoff and look at Lydia. “I love you. I always have. Your brother doesn't understand how brainwashed he is.”

Lydia's stare remains sharp as the arrow stays aligned with my heart.

I suck in a breath to stop the pounding in my throat. “They don't know about what we had. I swear, I would never-”

“You tried to kill me! ” Her voice cracks on the last word. She bites her lip to keep from sobbing.

I put my hands up in defense. “I would never plot against you. I would die for you. I would kill for you. I'd do anything for you.”

“Sounds like something a manipulative dreamscreecher would say!” Arthur barks.

“Listen to me, Lydia.” I won't let Arthur distract me. “You can shoot the arrow if you really think I've hurt you in any way.” I close my eyes, sucking in another breath before meeting her gaze again. “I'm not afraid of death. I never have been.”

She tilts her head sideways. “Then why even try to-"

“But if you drop the arrow, I will dedicate my life to you. I will protect you from these liars that have turned you into this shell of yourself. We can figure out how to reclaim your memories and change the kingdoms for good and you can be free again.”

Her eyes narrow. “Free from what, exactly?”

“Free from these lies. Not just about me or these dreamscreechers, but about you! I remember you told me, Lydia. Every day you live a life where people judge your ability to love because you're soulmateless.”

“Kill him already! Why waste our time!” one man yells. Lydia flinches back, still clutching onto her arrow.

Different men shout from the army. “Don't you want to redeem yourself?”

“If she's too weak to do it, I'll do it myself!”

“Lydia…” I whisper.

When she looks back, her glare is softened yet tainted with pain.

Conflicted.

There's a chance I can convince her.

“You're smart.” I straighten up my stance, steadying my trembling body. “You know what's right and what's wrong. You can kill me now or let me help you, but I'm yours. You make your choice.”

Her eyes shift between me and the other men. My heart races, knowing my words may not be enough. These could be my last seconds alive.

If I die, it would be the fault of hypocrites who believe our love shouldn't be. If I die, it would be for all the right reasons. If I die…

I’ll die trying to save her. That's an honorable death.

She looks at me once more, tears falling from her eyes. “Either way, this feels wrong.”

I nod. “I-"

“He's manipulating you again, Lydia!” Arthur yells suddenly. “Let go of the arrow! Now!”

The arrow stays pointed, Lydia's grip visibly tightening.

My heart skips. “Ly-"

“His death will set you free, Lydia! Now!”

Before the last word spills from his mouth, she lets go of the arrow. The shot is as perfect as she is. She never misses a target.

It pierces my flesh, through skin and muscle, until it splits through my heart.

I screech out in agony, falling to my knees almost immediately. Everyone becomes silent as I hold my chest, gripping the arrow embedded in my chest.

Death looms upon me through the pain and weakness rapidly overtaking my body. With a cry, the arrow deepens its wound.

I have little time to spare.

I look up to the men gaping at me as if this was unexpected. I breathe in hoarsely, the effort agonizing.

They will know of their wickedness. “You're all a bunch of hypocrites. All of you!” I howl as the pain gets sharper but continue to push through with my croaky voice. “You call yourselves the kingdom of love, and yet you've punished us for the very thing you preach.”

They continue gawking as my gaze falls to Lydia, her bow fallen and her hands covering her mouth. She whimpers into them as I struggle to keep my head level to those once beautiful eyes.

She is the woman I swore was mine the moment I laid eyes on her. She is the woman who was so full of life and compassion but now withering away because of her manipulators. She is the woman who I can't save as my body buckles, giving into her fatal arrow.

The pain in my heart isn't just for me. Who knows how much more she’ll suffer after I'm dead?

I give the last of my energy to her. She deserves every single word left in me. “I still love you. I always have. I know you're only doing what you think is best.

“Rayden…”

I smile once more before being snapped from the string of life, collapsing as my body succumbs to the sweet void of death

◆◆◆

Eli (500 years Later)

I look into those wide, amber eyes that mirror my own. She leans her small body closer, wisps of long brown hair partly masking her shocked expression.

My heart tugs. Ignatia is the perfect blend of me and my love, with her mother's dark brown hair and my own fiery irises that match her name. She's a little us, only four years old, having to learn about the tragedy that separates us from our enemies and why they would despise her very existence.

Telling the story of Rayden and Lydia is devastating.

I tip myself towards Ignatia as she pushes herself closer against the velvet couch of our sitting room, the violet flames in the hearth reflecting off of her cheeks in dim light.

“Now let this story be a lesson, Ignatia.

It's a very important lesson about our enemies. Rayden made a grave mistake trusting Lydia.”

She slowly nods along as I sharpen my tone. “The Amara kingdom is our greatest enemy, and even though Lydia had loved him before, they turned her against him. No matter how loving they are, never, and I mean never , trust an Amarian. They will ensure you're dead in the end.”

She tilts her head sideways, “But what if they don't? I can't be friends with any Amarians?”

“No.” I shake my head. “The Amara Kingdom hates our people, and there's nothing we can do to change them. We've all tried but they're hopeless.” I glance at the fire. “They will always stay their brainwashed ways, wanting us dead.”

It becomes silent as Ignatia stares at me and my muscles stiffen. It enrages me that we have a whole kingdom ready to make her suffer, even as an innocent little girl.

I will do anything to keep those people away from her. They are nothing but mass-manipulators who carry vileness in their hearts.

It's a real shame that the Amara kingdom, the kingdom of supposed love, has come to such degrading beliefs.

If this is love, I must've read the wrong definition somewhere.