It had been a blur of doctors and healers coming into Nadir's home over the following weeks. The cuts were bad but the pneumonia was even worse, almost not even pulling through. She did not speak, oftentimes someone would catch her crying silently. And freeze when a man enters the room. Erik and Nadir had been very intrigued, but had been told not to get their hopes up, though Erik stayed nearby.

He had seen that broken look before, in so many people, he had experienced it so many times. This made his intrigue grow even worse. Nadir couldn't even get her to talk. Trying any excuse to try and get close. And his excuse was that she had to be severely bord, and worked up the nerve to bribe information out of her with a book. Trying his best to be a respectful man. He knocked on the door before entering. A female servant, who had been assigned to help her to various tasks, opened the door, and let him enter.

He just had to be hopelessly attracted to fix broken things

Fear crossed her face as she laid her eyes on him. Erik pushed down the familiar irritation that came with that fear. The sunlight coming in from the window caught her eyes, showing a silver -steel gray color, her hair draped over her shoulder in a braid. On her chest lay a silver hamsa necklace with a blue jewel in the middle of the hand. He sat down on a chair, and the girl eyed the book, searching for a title or an author.

"If you tell me your name I'll give you this book." His voice came out barely above a whisper. Holding up the book with slender gloved hands. She gave a suspicious and confused look, mainly her confusion came from how he phrased it. Perhaps he was just terribly awkward, and really, she couldn't judge, she had been functionally mute her entire teenage years. She looked down considering his offer. She had been terribly bored.

She swallowed, her voice barely coming out above a whisper, pain shooting up from her throat from the stiches. Her voice was breathy and hoarse with her sickness "My name is Sophia."

A smile graced the man's scared lips, his wide grin eased her nerves a little, she found it nice. "That's a fitting name. How old are you?" He passed her the book and she gratefully took it.

"I'm nineteen." She paused, "what is your name?"

"My name is Erik." The masked man smirked.

—

It was a rush for Isa to get their gear on, but somehow managed to get all of their gear on in less than five minutes, rushing out into the night and onto a horse. their armor and bindings shielded them from the cold night. Quickly Isa was covering their armored hands with the sleeves of their coat, as they were shining in the moonlight, and wanted to bring as little attention to themself as possible.

It was moments like this that made them grateful that they left for Jerusalem. The Coven of Artemis trained them well. As well, it made it possible for Isa to become a doctor and a surgeon as well. It had opened up so many opportunities that some men would even kill for. They had made a soldier out of a plain, unremarkable, and broken girl.

Isa's horse, Nessus, was at a full gallop now. Dread built in Isa's stomach as they rode.

'It's not like anyone is going to miss my existence Isa.' that rang in their ears like a bell. It made their dread several times worse. The familiar feeling they shared, his simple disregard of their past bond. It hurt, it clouded Isa's mind with sadness, despair, and dread.

"Please be okay." Was the prayer on their lips.

Isa was raised a jew, but as her mother was a prostitute, the pair were not welcomed anywhere. No cenagauge would welcome them in for a service. Instead it was Isa's mother who taught Isa how to read, the way around their inherited religion. Isa's mother was once a well learned girl, but as to having a child at fifteen to a man who used and manipulated her for his own twisted gain, was shunned by the rest of society.

But now Isa did not know what they really believed anymore.

Isa would avenge their mother and Nadir. They would pull Erik from the edge.

—

Erik had already arrived, having strangled three, and his head spun with the recent hit from one of Andrei guards. He felt his head being pummeled again. He lashed out with his lasso wrapping it tightly around the man's neck. Erik's rage was the only thing fueling him. And with the sole intent to take his revenge or die trying. As he spun on his heel he was hit, extremely hard in the back of the head. He fell down to the ground now out cold.

If there was one thing that he could see again, and deep down he knew it would never happen and it was forever out of his reach, it was to see Isa again. To see her be happy. To run his hand in her hair. To make sure she was always alright. It was a bitter feeling to behold. Knowing that his mistreatment of her was the reason she left. How she became the person she was now. So determined to be strong. To never have to rely on another, to hide the broken part of her he desperately tried to fix, but in the end only made things worse.

A young woman stood over him. Her steel gray eyes were full of the happiness and love he could never give, but it was what she deserved. The wind blew in her hair. Her hand lovingly stroked the hollow of his cheek. Not through the mask but on his bare twisted skin. And it left a long searing path of pain. As if he had been cut with a blade. Blood dripped down coming from his absent nose to his bony sharp cheak.

He bolted straight up but was hindered by the rope securing him to the chair. Panic rose up in his chest. Making his breathing more labored. A man with broad shoulders, his large frame reminded him of Javert. How he used to tower over him when it was time for his freakshow.

He felt like that scared little boy again, now he was just as trapped.

And there wasn't a damn thing he could do now.