So here's the tenth chapter. Please review . Something unexpected is about to happen…
The days went by slowly. Alana's birthday was celebrated by telling jokes to make her laugh, singing her a birthday song and blowing the imaginary candles of an imaginary cake.
They were provided only enough food to survive. Three times a day, they sighed with relief when three chicken legs, three slices of bread and three bottles of water magically appeared in front of them. They tried to ignore the roaring of their stomachs, but it was not easy.
In the cellar, it was sometimes very cold, sometimes very hot. The three of them could be freezing at one point, and then covered in sweat an hour later. There was obviously some sort of enchantment behind this but, without their wands, there was nothing they could do about it.
Alana's legs hurt wildly and, even though she tried to hide it from them, Ethan and Conner both noticed. Every time they offered the shirt-knot again, she refused.
The boys were interrogated some days after Alana, but not nearly as harshly. Neither of them gave anything away. Voldemort had only found out that Conner was a Muggle, which was not that big of a problem compared to others.
Conner and Ethan introduced— well, showed, as they'd met before— Alana their fellow prisoner, Mr. Ollivander. They spent some time talking with the poor old man, reassuring him that they would get out soon... even if they didn't have much hope themselves. Once, Ollivander was taken away upstairs and came back badly bruised, unable to mutter a single word, and passed out almost immediately.
So, long story short, they were injured, hungry, restless, tired, uncomfortable, very hungry, angry... But the worst part was clear: They were too bloody bored.
The three of them entertained themselves by telling stories, jokes, talking. None of it worked for long. True, they were very mature, advanced people; in Alana's and Ethan's case, magical. But you couldn't cross out the fact that, despite all else, they were three teenagers stuck in a stone cave with nothing to do.
None of them kept track of time, so they soon lost it. Horrible hours went by, dull days, maybe even a few worthless weeks.
Then something very bad happened. Every second, the misery Alana's legs produced grew. The wounds refused to cease their bleeding, and it did not take long for the trio to realise they'd caught an infection. Alana's skin condition was awful, and the injuries seemed to be rotting (as disgusting as it may sound).
Worse, a few days after being captured, Alana fished a cold. Having no medical attention, it worsened, so that she soon fell very ill. The boys tried to help, but it was of no use: Alana was quickly falling sicker, slowly slipping away from them.
After about two and half weeks of being prisoners, they realised something awful. They didn't speak of it, but the three of them knew it was happening. Alana had a raging fever, she was pale as snow, a giant headache attacking her, she sneezed every few seconds, and she was so weak, she could barely talk. Her legs did not help, for they made the misery greater and—every now and then— more bleeding would come.
Nobody said it, but even Ollivander had come to face the abominable truth: Alana was dying.
One day, she couldn't stand it anymore. She couldn't stand seeing her friends so sad, so depressed, and yet trying to convince her that everything was going to be alright, that she would get better soon. So, that day, while they were waiting for food and Conner said, "Al, don't worry. Everything's gonna be fi—"
She snapped, "Everything's gonna be fine? Really? Guys, this isn't something that just goes away, it has to be treated. Okay? There's no hope for me! I don't mind! I was going to die eventually—"
"Al!" said Ethan, shocked.
"I was!" she continued. "We're all bound to die someday, then why be afraid? Even—" she nodded towards the stairs— "even him. Look, I appreciate you trying to comfort me, but it's no use. All of us know that I'm going to die in a few days, and I don't—" Her voice broke.
She'd thought about it so many times, she was sure she was okay with it: she was dying, which was better for everyone. No pain for her, no information for Voldemort, something less for to bother Ethan and Conner when they escaped. But saying it out loud, hearing the words "I'm going to die" from her own mouth, suddenly made her realise the real thing. She was never coming back. In a few days, maybe even less, she would disappear from the face of the earth, become barely a memory. Her life was over. Many things she had wanted to accomplish would be done by another; she would never again do the things she loved... And, worst of all, she would never get the chance to say good-bye to so many people, especially her family.
"...I— and I don't— don't mind," she whispered. "As long as you get out, and you don't tell him, it's fine. I know how you must feel. I'd never let either of you die. But put yourselves in my place: he wants me; I'd possibly put others in danger; if I go mad and tell him, the story will change, and we'll all be either killed or slaves in an eternal age of darkness ruled by an immortal villain with more power than anyone in the galaxy."
Ethan and Conner exchanged a look. Alana was gasping for breath, because talking so much had made her even weaker. She was surprised to see that Ethan— whom she'd only seen cry about trice in their entire lives— was teary-eyed. But they weren't tears of sadness. His face was burning with anger. For a moment, she thought he was angry at her, but them she understood.
"There's nothing you can do," she told him in a barely audible voice.
He shook his head. "Yes, there is. I'm not letting you die, Al."
"We're not letting you die," corrected Conner.
Alana smiled sadly. "I appreciate it, I really do, but—"
"No. Don't say anything. We'll figure it out," said Conner. "Now get some sleep."
"No way," said Alana, even though she was incredibly tired. "It's my watch. Your turn to sleep."
"I'll watch and wake you if they come," replied Conner.
"Well," she said. "While you argue over there, I'm eating."
She nodded towards the entrance of their prison, where a dark silhouette was approaching.
"Al, stop trying to change the subject," said Ethan.
"I'm sorry," said Alana. "I just—" She gasped. She fell back, coughing. A wave of nausea shook her, threatening to overwhelm her. Her voice was gone. She was shivering, as cold as ice, and she had trouble breathing. Her vision blurred once more.
"Al!" Ethan yelped.
"No! Al, come on, say something!" Conner said desperately.
She couldn't find the strength to speak. In fact, she could not find the strength to do anything at all. Her breathing slowed, because each gasp hurt. She coughed nonstop until she was simply not breathing anymore. Instinctively, she checked her pulse, only to find that it was unusually slow. She suddenly stopped coughing, taking a small, shaky breath once in a while.
She lied down on the floor, looking up at the faces of her friends, who were screaming words that Alana could hear only vaguely, as though from a mile away. She could make out Ethan yelling, "NO! I WON'T LET THIS HAPPEN!" His out-of-focus image ran towards the place where the shadow was, a Death Eater entering the cellar.
"YOU IDIOTS! She's dying! Your stupid master killed her! Now how are you supposed to get what you want, huh?" Ethan's voice shouted.
"NO!" said the voice of the Death Eater, Caira.
While Ethan banged on the metal gate, Alana could feel Conner leaning above her, closer, closer...
"Please, don't give up," he whispered. "You'd be killing a part of me, as well, if you do."
She managed to shake her head and give him a weak, faint smile. Your last smile, a part of her brain said.
"Alana..." said Conner quietly. She felt one of his tears splash on her cheek. "If you're going to leave, there's something I never got to told you." He leaned in closer and kissed her.
For a split second, Alana felt fully alive, and she could have sworn her heartbeat was faster than a running cheetah. Then she realised what was really happening, and shock coursed through her. This was, after all, one of her best friends kissing her. She wanted to push him away, but something held her in place. Before she knew it, she'd kissed him back. He moved back nervously and said, "I'm sorry."
She shook her head again. "D-don't," she breathed. Conner crouched beside her, and she stretched out her hand for him to hold. Just then Ethan came running back and poised himself on Alana's other side. She could make out a red liquid around his hands, which she guessed was blood from banging on the gate.
"Al, please..." he said. She gave a tiny moan. It's time, said the voice in her head. She heard footsteps approaching, but ignored them.
So Alana looked at each of them. She wanted to see something pleasant as her last view ever. She closed her honey-coloured eyes, the thing people found most beautiful about her, for the last time. She squeezed each of the boys' hands, then let go all of her strength.
The pain started to ease, and she knew it was over. Her the infection had reached her heart, and know her body would cease to function. She didn't know what lay ahead, but she was ready. She was glad with what she'd done in her time alive. She wished she could have done more, but no matter. She'd done her job. Now it was time to leave.
Goodbye, she thought. She felt herself falling asleep, though she knew that, this time, she would not wake up again. She sank deeper and deeper into unconsciousness, until everything was black, and she could not hear her heart beating. She took one last breath, let it out, and relaxed.
And that's how Alana Sages responded to Death.
But right then, when her heart refused to beat one more time, it was forced to. Alana heard it, and felt a great rush. She felt the infection draw back, first her heart, then along her veins, reaching her feet and her head. She felt again, felt her friends' hands in hers, felt herself floating back up into the world of the living. She heard voices, calling her name over and over again.
Alana opened her eyes.
She felt amazing. Indeed, she'd never felt better. She was filled with energy, her senses worked better than ever, and there was nothing in the universe that could stop her. She stood up to face the laughing Dark Lord, feeling like she could take him down there and then, even with no wand. She didn't even pay attention to Ethan and Conner, talking to her still from the floor.
"You filthy piece of crap," she spat. Her voice was more powerful and defiant than ever. "You missed me, huh? Couldn't bear the thought of living without me?"
"Oh, I wouldn't do that if I were you," said Voldemort. "Considering I was the one who almost killed you. And the one who brought you back from the dead, you ungrateful little brat."
"Please! There's no such power. Don't act like you don't know: you cured me before I died. Not after. Nobody—not even you— will ever have that power," she replied.
"A lesson well learned, I hope," hissed Voldemort.
"What? I WAS READY TO DIE!" she bellowed. "If the lesson you hoped to teach me was to be afraid of you, you're the worst bloody teacher in history."
"Of course, but I would never give you the pleasure," continued Voldemort.
"I know that," she said. "You waited until I was on the very verge of death to make me suffer, blah, blah, blah. I'm not as stupid as you, Tom."
His eyes widened at the name. "I know more than you think, Tom."
"Treat me with more respect, or I will—"
"—hurt me again?" Alana said in an amused voice. "Eternal pain? Well, you see, Tom, I don't care! I'll live again, and I still won't tell you! You will never control me, not even in your dreams!"
He threw a curse at her, which she dodged easily. "Missed me," Alana said in a mocking tone.
Voldemort turned and left. At the door, he said, "You will bow to me soon, Sages. Just wait. When you are begging for death at my feet, I will give you the chance to be my servant, and you will see. Mark my words: you will admit to me that you are nothing compared to me, and you will pledge yourself to me. And then, you will be reminded of this moment. Very soon..." He left, and Alana screamed a swear at his shadow, then turned to her friends. She ran over to them, as her legs did not even have a scar left of the wounds once there.
They just hugged and lived happily for who knows how long. When they broke apart, Alana looked at Conner, who was red with embarrassment.
"Um.." he said. "I–I thought you were— I mean about the— Look, I'm sorry, I—"
She smiled and kissed him.
"Excuse me," said Ethan, perplexed. "DID I MISS SOMETHING?"