“I trust you”, she says as his knife points to her throat.

The look in her eyes portrayed a slight childlike fear as she took a breath. She could feel the knife’s sharp and deadly blade as she in her mind, prayed to Mother, the Goddess of protection. While Demetrius stared her down, his eyes glossy with wet tears in the corners as he struggled against the magic possession swirling in him.

“Why do you trust the one that wants to kill you?”, he says as the tone of his voice slightly wavers. His mind was cloudy as the struggle within only deepened as he could feel Willow’s hand grasp his own. Her calloused hands from years of training and hunting felt foreign to his own touch. Fae were not meant to work, that was for the lower class and they were weak.

The warmth radiating from her hand felt alien to him. He had never been touched like this in his entire existence, his mother and father had been both distant but optimistic that he would follow in their footsteps, a daunting task for anyone but Willow had understood, she had seen through his suffering.

She was the only one who seemed to care. Not Griselle his loyal servant but also nor Dana who had stuck around withering while he juggled her emotions with little care.

“Let me in.”

Just those three little words from her had made his walls crumble to dust. Whatever spell had been put on him, had disintergrated into nothingness. His hand fell as the knife slipped down to the ground with a clatter.

With the spell broken, Demetrius wrapped his arms around Willow in a hug. He wanted to protect her and made sure she was safe. It didn’t matter of his own feelings as he closed his eyes, not knowing there was still a threat inside the room with them.

“Demetrius.” He heard her say whispering as he then heard her gasp. He felt a tip of a blade puncture through to his chest, almost critically hurting him. He opened his eyes just as he felt the weight slack against him, weighing him down almost to the ground.

Willow’s eyes were closed, her breathing shallow until he could feel her no more. He stepped back whilst still holding onto her, keeping her slightly in his arms as he gazed traveled to behind her. Fox, her ally stood behind her holding with one hand onto the blade stuck through her chest.

“W-what did you do?” Demetrius cried out, as Fox stepped back and ran back up the chapel steps. The thudding of his footsteps slapping against the tile floors as he ran further and further away leaving a broken man holding a lifeless corpse.

Demetrius gently layed Willow down on the floor gently. He took off his shawl and placed it over her chest, the blade’s handle still sticking out, a mocking reminder that she was dead. He knelt down to the floor beside her, whispering a prayer to any God that would hear him that she would finally be happy in the afterlife without him.

The man praying for hours, would not notice her lips curling into a smile until he stopped.