A Feverish Dream

Ancient yet persistent memories inundated her mind like an unwelcome tide. Raw and visceral pain clawed at her insides, the ghosts of past terrors whispering of shattered vows and a fractured identity. These long-buried feelings surged forward, finding their opening, the chink in her amour.

Praise, once a golden cage, echoed in the darkness:"Anastasia, destined for greatness!" followed by the whiplash of criticism, "Not enough, focus, focus, FOCUS!" Then, the chilling monotone of capture, "Lady Romanov, surrender. You've already lost."

The memories twisted into screams, accompanied by the metallic tang of blood and the chilling emptiness reflected in her followers' vacant eyes. Anastasia screamed, a silent plea swallowed by the shadows, but the nightmare persisted.

"My dear Anastasia, how did you do this? How did you break the rules? How did you break MY rules?" 

She died, and died again, and again. Each time, the recovery slower, the shard of soul torn away a little bigger. The soul that once yearned for freedom, for glory. The soul that was now fractured dust, swirling in the void.

In the midst of the storm, a comforting whisper assured, "You're alright." A gentle anchor in the chaos, soothing and low.

"You're alright."

**

"Lady Anastasia, I will follow you, until the end of time."

"Don't call me by that name," she murmured, "anything but that!" Her plea ripped through the silence, hoarse and ragged. A tremor ran through her, her breath hitched. The phantom pain in her mind was a thousand times worse than the searing ache in her muscles.

"A-Astra!"

The world snapped back into focus. Eydis, usually a whirlwind of confidence, was anchored by raw concern. Her brown eyes welled, reflecting the storm raging within Astra.

Attempting to rise, Astra met only the betrayal of her own body. Fire erupted in her muscles, intensifying as Eydis's cool hand brushed her forehead. The touch, unexpected and electric, jolted a flicker of hope through the darkness.

"You're burning up," Eydis's voice trembled, barely audible over the thunder of Astra's own heart. "I'll call Princess Athena."

Panic clawed at Astra's throat. The mention of that name, a gilded curse, sent chills down her spine. Any royal touch, any reminder of that gilded cage, threatened to shatter the fragile illusion of control.

"No!" The word escaped in a ragged gasp, raw vulnerability laid bare. This wasn't envy, but something far deeper, far more primal. A fear etched in blood and betrayal.

Eydis froze, the concern morphing into confusion. "The priests, then?"

"No priests!" Astra hissed. Each denial chipped away at her crumbling resolve, each plea a betrayal of the secrets she swore to keep.

Eydis sighed, a storm brewing in her own eyes. She turned towards the door, her back a silent accusation. Astra longed to call her back, to beg for the comfort of her presence, to dispel the shadows haunting her mind. But pride, or something far more ancient and terrible, held her tongue.

"I'll be back," Eydis murmured, as if hearing her thought.

Later, she returned, bearing two buckets of water and towels fresh as morning dew. Gently laying a cool cloth upon Astra's forehead, she asked through hooded lids, her voice barely a whisper. "You need to change," Amber eyes flitting to the sweat-drenched silk clinging to Astra's body. 

Shame flooded Astra's cheeks, hot and suffocating. She mumbled, "No, I can wait," her voice a mere whisper against the pounding in her head.

Eydis studied her with an unreadable expression. "You can't," she insisted, her voice surprisingly firm. "You need a sponge bath, and a change of clothes. Is there anyone…you trust… to help you?" Her cheeks flushed, a stammer entering her voice as she spoke.

Astra's face burned even hotter. "No one," she spat, the thought of anyone, especially Eydis, seeing her in such a state unbearable.

Eydis rubbed her temple, frustration etched on her face. "Natalia? Are you okay with her?" Then, her voice laced with a sudden venom, she added, "Or Melissa, maybe…"

"Natalia," Astra cut her off, her voice clipped. While Eydis's rambling was starting to feel endearing despite the throbbing in her skull, she needed the ordeal to be over.

A relieved smile, fleeting like a butterfly, touched Eydis's lips before she hurried out to find the fiery-haired girl. Left alone, Astra's mind continued its relentless assault. Childhood memories, snippets of laughter and sunlight, danced just out of reach, a cruel tease of a life before the fire and blood. Then, the storm returned, the stench of death choking her, the nightmares swirling like smoke in her mind.

Suddenly, a lavender scent cut through the darkness, a beacon in the storm. Gentle hands, warm and surprisingly strong, began to bathe her. Under the calming aroma, Astra's muscles finally relaxed, the nightmares receding like shadows before dawn. She drifted into a dreamless sleep, the scent of lavender lingering like a promise of safety.