I Am Back

With a spiralling motion, I emerged from the void, materialising out of thin air with the grace of a practised magician. I landed softly in my study room in the heart of the mansion, my body still tingling from the effects of the Physical Enhancement spell. But, time was running out, and I felt the spell beginning to wear off. The recoil hit me like a tempest, forcing me to the ground. My struggle to contain the surging agony was palpable.

Gritting my teeth, I conjured a grey bottle from the air and drank its contents, hoping to dull the pain. It worked, but I still lacked the strength to stand. As I knelt, awaiting the soothing balm of restorative magic, a figure donned in impeccable butler's attire appeared near the doorway. Waves of chestnut hair, meticulously styled, framed his countenance, exuding an aura of sophistication and poise.

"Is everything alright, sir?" His voice, respectful and tinged with genuine concern, cut through the room.

Turning my gaze, I met Alfred's enigmatic appearance. His visage was a surreal sight - a featureless expanse of flesh, akin to a mask sculpted from an unknown substance. His outstretched hand offered support, and I grasped it gratefully, absorbing the reassuring warmth of his touch. My voice rasped as I replied.

"I will manage, Alfred. Thank you."

(A/N: Alfred The Butler)

Despite my attempt at reassurance, a trace of apprehension lingered in his tone.

"Is there anything I can assist with?"

A feeble shake of my head followed.

"No need. This ache shall pass."

Then, I remembered the task I had given him before confronting Mikael.

"Have you accomplished the task as I requested?"

"Yes, sir. She's waiting in the dining room," Alfred confirmed with a precise nod.

Acknowledging his information, I glanced down at my disarrayed attire.

"I'll be there shortly, after I've tidied up."

"Certainly." Bowing respectfully, Alfred departed, leaving me to prepare for a difficult reunion

...

As I descended the stairs, my heart raced with anticipation. Each step seemed to bring me closer to bursting with anxiety. And then there she was. Rebekah, the love of my life, lay desiccated on the couch, drained of vitality. Her once-vibrant skin now bore the marks of desolation—dry, shrivelled, with visible veins and cracked, parched lips. It was as though all life had been syphoned from her.

And despite her terrible state, my love for her burned like an eternal flame. Drawing nearer, my fingers brushed her face gently as I whispered.

"My sweet, sweet Rebekah. How I have missed you."

"Blood bag?" I held out my hand to Alfred, who stood nearby, and he promptly placed one in my palm.

Taking the blood bag from him, I commanded,

"Leave us."

With a quiet bow, he exited the room and softly closed the door behind him.

Clutching the blood bag, my focus returned to Rebekah. It was time to bring her back to life. With delicate hands, I carefully removed the silver dagger from her heart, allowing her skin to gradually regain its colour.

To hasten her healing, I positioned the blood bag near her lips, allowing her to feed. As the life-giving fluid flowed into her, her body slowly began to stir, and I knew that soon she would be fully awake, restored to her former self.

Gasp!

With an abrupt jolt, Rebekah's eyes fluttered open. Her chest heaved as if her heart raced to catch up with the unexpected awakening. Dim lights cast eerie shadows across the unfamiliar room, disorienting her momentarily.

Time seemed to slow as she struggled to process her surroundings. Blinking several times, her gaze darted around the space, unsteady and wide, until it settled on a figure standing before her—a figure that etched itself onto her consciousness in a flash, the contours of his face etched by time but still achingly familiar.

Everything else faded into insignificance, the room shrinking into the background, leaving only the two of them in the universe. Trembling waves coursed through her, as if all the emotions she had locked away for centuries surged to the surface. The anguish, the isolation, and the longing converged within her, rendering her immobile for a heartbeat that seemed to stretch into eternity.

And then, a whisper, a fragile whisper carried by a quivering breath.

"C... Cassius?"

The words hung, a bridge spanning the chasm between their separated hearts. Time seemed to pause, caught in their reunion's gravity. His name, her breathless voice, the universe held its breath.

As if drawn by an irresistible force, I moved closer. The air grew dense with unspoken emotions, the shared history of a thousand years hanging between them like a veil. Her fingers, trembling yet determined, reached out, making contact with my skin in a touch so tender, as if she feared he might dissolve with a stronger grip.

"It's me, Rebekah," I murmured, a soothing balm to her soul. A voice from the past, a presence she had dreamt of and despaired over for centuries. "I'm here."

Her eyes, windows to the storm within, locked onto mine. Tears shimmered, fragile but steadfast, in the corners of her eyes. Her lips parted, revealing the vulnerability she had kept hidden for so long.

The room seemed to contract, the atmosphere electric with the unspoken words between them.

"I thought you were gone." The words emerged amidst hiccups, each syllable a fragile thread of emotion, a tapestry woven from sorrow and yearning.

My heart constricted at the sound of her voice, the agony and longing etched into every sound. The tears I held back blurred my vision as I fought to contain the maelstrom of emotions swirling within.

It was my fault, all of it. I had caused her so much pain, so much heartbreak, and yet she stood before me, her heart still holding a place for me after a millennium of separation.

Gently, I reached out and enfolded her in my arms. Her sobs reverberated against my chest, a symphony of sorrow and relief. My fingers found solace in the softness of her hair, a tactile reassurance that I was truly here. With each stroke, I carried an unspoken promise, a testament that I would weather her storms. As her grip tightened, her fingers clutching my shirt, it was as if she sought refuge from a world that had forsaken her.

Time ceased to have meaning as they stood together, a fragile oasis amidst an eternity of isolation.

"I'm here now, Rebekah," I whispered, my voice a lifeline cast across the abyss of their shared history. "And I'm not going anywhere."

She clung to me, her trembling body a testament to the weight she had borne alone. I could feel the depth of her sadness and emotional intensity. I held her as though she were the most fragile thing in existence, as if my embrace alone could mend the scars time had wrought. But, alas, wounds heal but scars don't. All I could reassure her was that I was here and that I was never leaving her again.

As her tears subsided to hiccups and shuddering breaths, I gently cradled her face in my hands, her damp cheeks cool against my warm palms. Our eyes locked, and in that gaze, a multitude of unspoken sentiments passed between us.

"I love you, Rebekah," I confessed. Each word was a declaration of devotion that resonated with the weight of our shared experiences.

Her voice trembled, a fragile declaration matching the vulnerability in her eyes. 

"I love you too, Cassius."

In that moment, the universe held its breath once more. Love, sorrow, time—they were all irrelevant. The bond they shared was unbreakable, forged through centuries of longing for one another, and now, finally, they were united.

In that moment, I knew that nothing could ever tear us apart again. We had been through so much, but now we are together, and I am never letting her go.