Alexander stands still, afraid. Why did he say that? There were so many things that he wanted to know about what just happened. Why did this have to happen to Sophia? Why was that monster here? Why did his body move on his own? Why did the woman in front of him die by his hands? And why couldn't he do anything about all of this?
The absent stare plastered on his face betrayed his lack of interest for the answer Mikola was giving. He wasn't sure he wanted answers for any questions. Would he accept the answers he would be given? Looking down, the hands in front of him didn't feel like his own. Blood painted over them made him feel like he was still inside the void. He hesitated to look up. Maybe this was his own blood.
Alexander tilts his head upwards. The sight of his victim didn't settle in immediately, but when it did, the realization of it debunked any and all of his delusions. He is a murderer. This overwhelming thought numbed all of his senses. He feels lightheaded. He can't look away, nor close his eyes. A tight feeling forms inside his throat. Alexander feels it suffocating him. The feeling moves further down, passing along his heart and reaching his stomach. He feels sick and-
"You're not even listening and now look at what you're doing!" Mikola stops his monologue, waiting for his caller to regain composure.
Alexander gasps for air, still in shock. He wipes his mouth, taking in some of his surroundings and feels a little more capable to hear some of his ghost's explanations. All of the questions come to mind all over again, forming a jumble of words. He feels himself falling inside the void once more, but the strong desire to gain answers keeps him there.
"Explain, " Alexander firmly utters the word resounding inside his mind, encapsulating all, yet none of his questions.
"I'll explain everything on the way to Iași. Get up, we need to get out of here before Vitoria arrives."
"Leave? but-"
Alexander cuts himself off. He jolts himself up and sprints towards the inside of the town.
"Boy!" Mikola shouted, clearly frustrated by the lack of cooperation. "Where're you going?"
He starts chasing after his caller, cutting corners, following further and further away behind him, until he loses sight of Alexander. Mikola finds himself at the well, looking around to find the slightest trail.
"Alexa-!"
The sight of Alexander getting out of his sister's house makes him stop. Alexander was carrying Sophia's lifeless body in his arms. He had covered it with a piece of cloth, but it was painfully obvious for Mikola to know who was under it. He stands there, as Alexander passes by him. Mikola couldn't tell him anything.
Alexander knew where he was going. He slowly makes his way to the edge of town, where a sole tree stands tall. It had seen better days, its years leaving scars on the crown that was once brimming with youth. As if the colors of the burning town had made their way outside of it, a carpet of orange and red covered the dirt surrounding the tree. Small patches of grass could be spotted further away from the tree, where Alexander was headed.
He stops. Lowers Sophia onto the grass. Her hair bleeds onto the ground among the rusted leaves, reminding Alexander who was under the tattered cloth. He turns his attention to her side, sinks his fingers into the dirt, and starts shoveling it towards himself. Small droplets fall in front of him as he digs. He starts moving faster, more violently, his frustration getting the better of him as the grave gets deeper and deeper. What if he had accepted earlier that he was a caller, channeling a ghost earlier? Would he have been able to protect her this way? No. He got too comfortable being a flame watcher, assuring only enough to get by. He was in a position to change something and yet he didn't. Small rocks inside the dirt keep grinding against his nails, tainting his already bloodied hands, this time with blood of his own.
With the grave now deep enough, Alexander turns his attention once more to his sister. Tears roll down his face as he has to come to terms with burying the last person he had ever cared about. He wraps his hands under Sophia's body one last time and places her gently inside her resting place. Once inside, he lifts the cloth from her face. He can't stop looking at her. The sight of her bruised neck and bloodied cheeks overwhelms him with rage. He lifts her back up, places her on the grass once more, removes the cloth and what remained of her clothes, laying her body bare. Slits... and bruises... mangle her once pure body. A new wave of anger surges through him.
He looks around. No sight of Mikola. He didn't follow him. The surprising privacy he had been given eases his resentment a little.
"Mikola, come here...", he utters in a quiet tone.
Mikola appears beside him. Before he could process his sudden appearance, Alexander continued.
"Fix my sister's-" His voice breaks. His eyes avoid looking at Mikola. "-my sister's injuries..."
"Yo-"
"Please...", Alexander cuts him off.
Choosing his words carefully, as to not give any useless information, Mikola clarifies:
"Order me to disperse blood inside bruises while pointing at them, and to freeze blood around her cuts."
Alexander does as he is told, giving the order. Having to point at each of his sister's impurities deeply troubled him. It reminded him of his uselessness. Every single one of them served as a reminder of all of the wrong decisions that led to this.
"Now gather water from surrounding grass into my right hand until I tell you to stop", Alexander orders, after double-checking for remaining injuries.
Alexander washes Sophia's body, feeling the frailty of it. She was a lot skinnier than she looked on the outside, bones being felt at every touch. He really did fail her even as they were. They were not getting by, he was getting by. With every trip she was making to his tent, he was taking more from her. Every day, while he was idling about, she was always working. The warmth of the meals she was giving him every day had turned into guilt. How could he have been so ignorant? He saw she was struggling. He saw how skinny she was and did nothing. Absolutely nothing. And now... He can't do anything else for her. Only this.
He puts her clothes back on. Alexander turns his head towards Mikola, opening his mouth, but before he could say anything, Mikola was already heading back to the town.
With Sophia now in her final resting place, Alexander takes one last look at her. He clasps his hands together... closes his eyes... and raises his hands to his chin...
Alexander prays...
He prays for her to end up in heaven. Because she deserves to be there. That is all he wished for.
He covered her body with the cloth for the last time, and although hesitant, started filling the grave back up with the dirt beside it. Tears felt warmer as they kept flooding down his nose and cheeks and lips, he couldn't stop them. He was there, but she wasn't. He rested his body on top of the pile of dirt that now served as his final memory of his sister...
...and cried...