Forbidden (The Secret World Of Atlantis 2)

Chapter 2 - Waking Up To A Mess

The first thing I know, is that I am blinded by the daylight, that makes its way to my eyes. I have to blink quite a few times to see anything else than white in front of me. As I adjust to the light, I soon realize where I am. I probably broke the record on how many times one can wake up at the Academy’s Clinic in one year.

I try to stand up, but before I do that, I decide to pull myself up a bit first. As soon as I try, even sharper pain shoots through my neck. Why does this hurt so much? It was such a pleasurable experience, when Eros was sucking my blood and now I feel like someone stabbed a knife into my neck.

I let out a pained grunt, attracting attention by doing so, as I soon hear footsteps coming down the hallway. I am met with the stern face of Mrs Praxidike, who shakes her head as she sees, that I was about to get up.

“Miss Io, you’ve been drained of blood. You can’t expect yourself to be up and about as soon as you wake up,” she scolds me, but there’s a hint of relief in her voice. Is it because I woke up? Did she think I wouldn’t? It makes me realize, that I was lucky to be alive. But that doesn’t prevent me from blurting out the next question.

“Where is Eros?” I ask without any shame. She stiffens, then narrows her eyes at me sternly. What is that supposed to mean?

“Don’t talk too much, or do you want to bleed again? If you have anything left,” she remarks, making me bite my tongue. It seems like questioning her further wouldn’t be a wise decision, so I shut up. She comes to my left side, starting to take off the bandages on my neck.

I must remind myself, that what happened, is something unacceptable. I was attacked by an Undefined one. But the way I see it, I’m not really picturing it as an attack. It sure didn’t feel that way, when he pressed me against the wall. Heat rushes to my cheeks, making Mrs Praxidike put a hand on my forehead in worry. “Are you having a fever?” she asks, making me feel embarrassed. I shake my head, not without letting out a soft grunt as pain shoots through my neck once again.

“I don’t think so,” I answer, but she’s already feeling my ears. She then turns back to my neck, cleaning the wound and putting a new bandage on it.

“You don’t have a fever. But you mustn’t move your head too much, if you want this wound to heal. That said, I’m bringing you soup and I’m going to feed you myself. For the next couple of days you need to be careful not to move your head too much,” she explains, already standing up and leaving me for a few moments.

“Can I at least see my friends?” I ask as she returns with a plate of soup, as she promised. She shakes her head sternly.

“You’re far too weak for that. But they did ask me to send their regards. They come to ask about you every afternoon,” she informs me, forcing a spoon into my face, before I’m even able to respond. I open my mouth, giving in because I’m already starving. I thank her as we finish and she leaves me alone. “If you need to go to the bathroom, call out for me,” she tells me, before disappearing down the hallway.

As I’m all by myself, I get angry. Why does everyone keep telling me how I’m feeling and what I can or cannot do? I need to know what’s going on. And where is Eros? Is he okay? Did they lock him up like the worst criminal?

If my body didn’t hurt so much, I would stand up and go looking for him myself. The visit to Olympus hasn’t left me indifferent. If the Gods told me, that I need to keep Eros alive at any price, he must be important. I just don’t know why. Of course he’s important, when he’s one of them! I still can’t believe, that he’s just a punished God. I can’t imagine him in a form, that the other Gods showed themselves in.

For the next couple of days I plead the nurse to let my friends to me. I’m feeling so lonely. Mrs Praxidike does talk to me, but it’s not the same. I need someone to confide into. And she’s not the right person for that.

After two days she has enough of me and finally allows my friends to visit me. But she bursts my bubble almost immediately. “You’re only allowed one visitor per day and they can be here only fifteen minutes. I’ll see to it myself,” she informs me. Do I have any other choice but agree to her terms? At least I’ll see someone else, than the nurse.

Only a few minutes after, there’s a knock to the Clinic’s door. I can hear hushed voices, as Mrs Praxidike opens the door, but I can’t make out the words. I listen intently, my face lighting up as soon as I hear two pairs of footsteps, walking down the hallway.

Mrs Praxidike only comes to show, where I am, while the other person covers their mouth with their hand at sight of me. I c***k a smile at my best friend, as the nurse reminds us: “Fifteen minutes.”

“I thought you were dead, the way her face looked every day!” Elena squeals, rushing to my side and squeezing my hand. She looks happy to see me alive, but at the same time, I can read the worry in her eyes.

“Don’t worry, you won’t be attending a funeral anytime soon,” I comfort her, but I do exactly the opposite. Her lower lip trembles and she bursts into a series of uncontrolled sobs. For the love of Olympus, Arya, wrong choice of words! “I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to upset you in any way … What is going on, Elena, why are you crying?” I want to know, already feeling, that what I’m about to hear is going to be as bad as it can get.

“You have no idea, what happened?” she asks, her eyes widening in surprise, before they narrow. “Are you trying to say, they’re keeping everything from you?” she grits through her teeth. I furrow my eyebrows in confusion, my heart beating rapidly. I can even feel it thumping in my wound.

“What is going on? Where is Eros?” I continue, fearing the answer before I even finish the question. Elena shakes her head in disbelief.

“They locked him up as soon as they found him with you. He was in the Amphitheatre all this time, before he disappeared just two days ago. I have no idea where they took him and I’m truly afraid, Arya. I’m afraid of what they might do to him,” she panicks, the look on her face haunted. I tighten my jaw. If she doesn’t, I do have an idea, where he might be. I’m almost sure of it. But I can’t say anything. I don’t want to feel even worse. “All of this is my fault! If I waited at your house, instead of mine, we wouldn’t be in this mess! Or if I waited for you by the Headmistress’s office … Things could be so much different,” she sighs, burying her face into her hands.

“Elena, stop blaming yourself. You couldn’t have known, what was about to happen … That said, were you the one, who pulled Eros off of me?” I ask, trying not to think about how heated the moment was. Because if she waited any longer, we’d maybe be much further down the line. The thought makes my face burn with heat. Now I’ve done it. But Elena doesn’t seem to notice how embarrassed I am, since she’s too busy dealing with her own trouble.

“But I could’ve prevented this from happening! If only I wasn’t showering, I could save you faster, than the professors,” she keeps blaming herself. But as she mentions professors, my cheeks feel like they’re going to light up in flames. Oh my. Professors saw us.

“Which professors are you talking about exactly?” I ask, feeling so much shame, that I wish the earth would open up and swallow me. Only then she looks at me, raising her eyebrows in surprise. My face must look like a tomato right now.

“Professor Callirrhoe and professor Himalia. They were on duty for checking off Undefined ones, as they arrived to the Amphitheatre. As Eros didn’t show up, they went looking for him, but only after they made sure, the rest of the Undefined ones were locked up safely,” she explains, narrowing her eyes at me in suspicion. “Why are you so embarrassed about being bitten by a flying vampire?” she wonders, almost making me chuckle, if the matter wasn’t so serious. Really, a flying vampire? Where is she picking those up?

“Because? I wasn’t exactly resisting … him,” I explain, but she keeps staring at me dumbfoundedly. I sigh, wincing a little as a sharp pain shoots through my neck once again, but I choose to ignore it. I motion with my hand for her to come closer. As she’s leaning over me, I finally speak up. “I touched his wings,” I admit, making her gasp and shake her head in shock.

“You can’t be serious. And the professors saw that?” she asks, still gaping at me in disbelief. I shrug in embarrassment.

“I don’t remember removing my hand from his wings,” I confess. Elena looks like she’s about to faint. She can’t seem to wrap her mind around this. “I know what that means, but I’m not sorry about it at all. If this means, I’ll get what I want, that my father is going to terminate my betrothal … Then I couldn’t care less, if the whole Atlantis finds out about it,” I conclude, but Elena has tears in her eyes once again.

“But what if … Oh, Arya, what if they’re going to kill him without anyone knowing? Without even giving him a fair trial?” she wonders, sobbing once again. I sigh, must she really think about the worst stuff possible? She isn’t helping the situation at all.

“Elena, you need to calm down. We’ll find out where he is, alright? They’ll surely be writing about what happened in the Herald,” I try to assure her. But I can’t prevent my mind from going down the negative direction, as a horrifying thought poisons my mind. If it won’t be too late for him by then. My best friend nods, wiping the tears from her eyes.

“You’re right, it won’t do me any good, if I sit here crying, when I should be the one consoling you. I’m so sorry for being such a shitty … friend,” she apologizes, making me sigh. I know she also meant Guardian, just didn’t want to say it out loud. But it makes me mad, that she keeps blaming herself for something, that she couldn’t prevent.

“It isn’t your fault. The prophecy had to be completed,” I tell her, making her eyes widen once again. She shakes her head in disbelief.

“You can’t mean … Are we thinking about the same prophecy? The one you received in November?” she asks, her eyes looking like they’re about to bulge out of her head. I nod.

“The very same. It seems like Eros was the death in my prophecy,” I propose. My best friend leans back on the chair beside my bed, trying to comprehend what I’ve just told her. “Elena … What was Eros doing, roaming the island as a Dark one? Why didn’t he get to the Amphitheatre, before the full moon rose? Who kept him outside?” I ask, already suspecting, that the person behind my threatening messages might had something to do with it. But as Elena looks at me, her sad eyes shake me to my very core. And I already know, that I’m not going to like the answer.

“No one kept him from going there. It was his decision,” she confesses.