Anathema

Written so that people would understand

that things aren't so bad after all,

because things can always be worse, and

that there are people who are in

worse shape than ourselves.

Michał L.

(Hepe Draco)

Wealth isn't a guarantee of happiness.

The bus skidded to a halt. As soon as the door opened, Dan jumped out. He didn't really know why he was in such a hurry, as his friend's condition was reported as good. However, he preferred to make sure himself. He jogged across the street and headed for the nearest subway exit. The metal machine appeared a minute after he stepped onto the platform. There were few people there at that hour, so he could sit comfortably. It was almost midnight, and he didn't feel like standing around, considering he'd be on the subway for at least half an hour. He could have caught a taxi.

The phone had woken him an hour ago. He heard Claudia, Billy's wife, in the receiver. He didn't have time to say hello before she started spewing a torrent of words that blended into incomprehensible gibberish. Dan told her to take a deep breath and start again. She performed the procedure and this time explained it more clearly. She had just been in the hospital after a car accident. She herself was unharmed, except for a few scratches and a slight concussion. Unfortunately, Billy wasn't so lucky. The car that hit them hit the driver's side. Her husband ended up with a broken leg and one of his ribs. He only regained consciousness at the hospital. Dan, at Claudia's request, agreed to go there. Only after leaving did he realize that visiting hours were closed and they probably wouldn't let him in. He wondered why he had come. Whatever. He'd find out when he got there.

A taxi would indeed be safer. It didn't matter to him. He glanced around the carriage, observing his fellow passengers. A few women, three older men, and a couple of teenagers. No one looked threatening. In fact, only he himself could seem so. A broad, six-foot-tall brunette with a scar along the back of his neck. What's more, he hadn't shaved that morning and sported a two-day beard. People had always been afraid of him, basically. That was a good thing; that appearance at least partially ensured peace from the groups of teenage gangsters and thieves. Frankly, they had reason to be afraid. Over the past three thousand years, he'd learned many ways to cope and fight. Yes, it was best not to bother someone like that.

He leaned his head against the window. He still felt sleepy. "Three thousand..." he closed his eyes. "...so long... so long." Sleepiness took over, and he fell into blissful oblivion.

The flutter of wings forced his eyes open. He was standing in the forest. It was early morning, and a downy blanket of fog still lingered around him. He pushed through the trees in a familiar direction. He knew this forest well from his childhood games. After a short struggle with the unyielding branches, he stood at the edge of a clearing. The fog reached his knees, and he felt the chill of the morning. Despite the dim light, he could clearly make out a figure on the other side of the clearing. A tall, brunette woman with blue eyes. Casandreja. His Casandreja. Cas. Dressed in a white dress, she looked around until she caught his eye. She waved in greeting, then broke into a run. Danathriel repeated the gesture and ran toward her. About halfway there, they fell into each other's arms. Their lips met in a passionate kiss. Danathriel felt the closeness and warmth. He smiled, gazing into her eyes and brushing his fingers against her temples. The girl smiles back, but suddenly her expression changes to one of incredible surprise. Something powerful begins to pull her back. The lovers' hands connect for a moment, but it's too strong. Cas slips from Danathriel's grasp. With a silent scream, snatched by an unknown force, she disappears into the trees. Danathriel is left alone. Before he can react, however, the scenery changes.

He finds himself in a completely different clearing. The darkness of the night is illuminated by the glow of a blazing fire. His usual attire has been replaced by light leather armor. He holds a sword in his hand. He looks down at his feet. The bodies of two men lie by the fire. Their blood has not yet cooled on the blade of his sword. He looks up at his last opponent. A beautiful woman stares at him from the other side of the fire. Danathriel knows he should recognize her, but he can't recall her face. The woman doesn't give him time to think. With a murderous glint in his eye, he puts the knife to Casandreja's throat and, before the Warrior can react, slits his beloved's throat. The man furiously closes the distance between them and stabs the murderess, who falls to the ground. The Warrior ignores her. He kneels by his beloved's body, but it's too late. Death has taken the only being he loved. He begins to cry in helplessness as hoarse, broken laughter echoes nearby. The murderess lay bleeding from the wound, but she was still alive. She stopped laughing and began to speak weakly.

"Cry, because there's nothing else you can do. She's gone. She's dead.

" "Why?" he asked without lifting his head.

"Don't you recognize me?"

Only now did he take a closer look. Her face was slightly different, but he knew who it belonged to.

"Sakarda," he said through his teeth.

The woman smiled. "I told you you'd pay me back. The death of your beloved is only the beginning." It doesn't matter if I die, you will suffer longer.

The warrior stood, raising his sword blade. "Die at last, witch," he says, and plunges his sword into the woman's chest. However, the witch isn't so easily killed. Despite the blow, she manages to intone one final message.

"You will suffer eternal life until you hear Cas's confession, your true love, her assurance of love, break the thread of your curse." Then he blows a handful of dust from his hand. Danathriel, momentarily surprised by the woman's vitality, twists the blade. This time, the woman dies. Golden dust floats around. Two words echo in the Warrior's mind: "eternal life... eternal life."

Darkness fell, and the silence of the forest was replaced by the sound of the rushing subway. Dan waited a few seconds before opening his eyes. The dream ended as it always did. After so many times, it was no longer a nightmare, but rather a simple memory. He looked out the window, but the rushing walls of the tunnel made it impossible to judge anything. He decided to learn something from his nearest neighbor. The middle-aged man replied politely, which is becoming increasingly rare these days.

"He probably has a gun in his pocket anyway, or at least a knife," Dan thought.

If you checked everyone present, you'd find that most of them had some kind of weapon, like tear gas or a stun gun. He rested his head again. At least he hadn't slept through the station. There were three more to go. He arrived, trying to stave off fatigue by counting everything he could see from his position, including even the chips on the walls.

About twenty minutes later, he arrived at the hospital. Once there, Claudia had already dealt with everything by introducing him as Billy's brother. Given this circumstance and the patient's mild condition, who wasn't even sleeping, the doctor allowed a brief conversation, provided they didn't wake the other patients. However, that didn't explain Dan's departure in the middle of the night. He could just as easily have decided to visit in the morning. Claudia explained that she simply needed a bodyguard. She didn't need to stay at the hospital, and they had a child currently staying with their grandparents. She'd already explained why they were so late and that there was nothing to worry about. She needed to catch a taxi to pick up her son and go home. Taking a taxi wasn't that dangerous, but Dan understood her request, especially after the accident. He wondered why he hadn't thought of it himself. Exhaustion and the desire for sleep must really be delaying one's thoughts. He agreed to help as soon as he checked "if Billy was still alive." Claudia remained in the waiting room. She didn't need to participate in the men's conversation.

Dan quietly entered the room. He found his friend where the nurse had indicated, right by the door. Billy looked quite pathetic with a broken leg and rib, a head wound, and numerous abrasions. He'd been given a massive dose of painkillers, but he still hadn't slept.

"Damn, I don't know, man. I should have been sleeping a long time ago, but I can't. My eyes want to open, and now they do. Maybe it's a reaction to shock or something; after all, that was a powerful shot," he concluded.

"I see, you look miserable, oh, miserable. You didn't have to act tough and cause an accident.

" "Laugh. You'd look like that yourself after something like that. Besides, I didn't cause anything.

" "I know." Claudia said, the guy was drunk and ran a red light.

"Yeah, totally. He jumped out of nowhere." Billy raised his voice, and Dan gestured for him to quiet down. Billy paused, losing the thread. "But it's not that bad," he continued. "I'll stay here a few days and then I'll be out. It could have been worse.

" "At least you were driving alone, without the kid."

Billy nodded. "I thought so too."

They talked for a while until the nurse showed up. Dan left, promising to visit the next day. He followed the nurse, passing rooms. He walked without thinking about anything in particular, when a wave of emotions suddenly washed over him. It came so suddenly that he was literally knocked off his feet. He landed on one knee, bracing himself with his hands on the floor. The nurse immediately rushed to his side, but Dan had already started to get up, explaining that it was nothing, he had just stumbled. He stood up, still overcome with a flood of emotions. Not his own. A wave of love, need, and misery all rolled into one. A feeling known only to him. Now he felt nothing else. All his own sensations were muffled. The nurse was still standing beside him, asking if he was sure everything was alright. Dan broke down and returned to reality. Without answering the woman's question, he turned toward the room he was passing. That was where the wave was coming from.

"What room is this?" he asked, concentrating on not giving in to his feelings.

The nurse informed him that Samantha Scott, a girl in a coma, lay there. She didn't see anything wrong with reporting it, since Samantha was the sister of someone wealthy and the television had been reporting on it for a while. Dan stared intently at the door.

"I have to go in there," he announced.

"You can't." The nurse looked genuinely surprised.

"You don't understand," he tried again. "I know that girl."

The woman made a face that showed she didn't quite believe it. She began to explain calmly.

"Even if it's true, now isn't the best time...

" "Just for a second," he argued.

"Why can't you wait until tomorrow?" The nurse was already irritated.

Dan sighed. "I'm sorry," he said, then walked past the woman and into the room.

The wave of emotions surged so strong that he had to hold back tears. The room was small, with only one bed. He took a step forward, though he could see the woman's face perfectly thanks to the lit lamp. On the bed, covered up to her neck and connected to an IV, lay Casandreja, Cas. His Cas. Dan's willpower gave way, and he let out a few tears.

"Will that be enough?" the nurse asked from the doorway. "Shall I leave now, or should I call someone to carry you out?"

The flood of emotions eased, and Dan regained his composure.

"Yes, now." He wiped away his tears. "I'm sorry, it was stronger than I could resist." He left, and the woman closed the door.

"If you really know her, you can visit her at the right time. You'll be here anyway because of your brother.

" "Yes, I know. I apologize again; it was a reflex.

" "Okay, now." The woman stopped and looked at him again. They were already in the waiting room. "And get some sleep," she advised, "because you look no better than your brother.

" "I'm not thinking about anything else right now. Thank you and goodbye.

" "Goodbye," she replied, and left.

He concluded the woman was actually quite nice. After all, she hadn't called security, and she could have done so a long time ago. Maybe she even believed he knew Samantha. Or maybe not.

He sat in the taxi, talking to Claudia, even though his mind was elsewhere. He lied to the nurse, because he probably wouldn't sleep at home. After dutifully carrying out his friend's request, he returned to his room. He lay on the bed and pensively watched the sky outside the window. Destiny was giving him another chance to seize, and that's exactly what he would do. He had to, as he always did. He thought back to his youth, if you could call it that. To the events of his recurring dream.

Those were dark and forgotten times. He lived in a medium-sized town by local standards. The son of an ordinary blacksmith. Fate placed the daughter of a rather wealthy merchant in his path. One day, a thief stole a medallion given to her by her mother. Danathriel, witnessing the incident, caught up with the thief and took back the girl's belongings. He returned the jewelry, and they became friends. Over time, their friendship blossomed into a more serious affair. The lovers met secretly, alone. Both knew that nothing would come of this relationship. The merchant might not have been particularly opposed to his daughter's friendship with the blacksmith's son, but he certainly wouldn't have allowed their marriage. Despite everything, it was the best time of his life. True love; he saw no one else but his beloved. He had to somehow gain the girl's father's consent. He then made the only decision he considered right and decided to go to war with the current enemy of the state. War could bring good money, and he knew how to fight, and the conditions were right. He decided to achieve something through combat and set out to do so. He wasn't entirely sure the merchant wouldn't marry off his daughter before his return, as it was high time. And although Casandreia had promised to resist her father's wishes, he couldn't be absolutely certain. Unable to do anything more, Danathriel left, not knowing if he would ever return.

"It's like a story from a tacky romance," Dan thought, interrupting his reminiscences. A rich girl and a poor boy, clichéd as Romeo and Juliet. Unfortunately, such things do happen.