Chapter Three: Forsaken
"The Saracens say that this disease is God's vengeance against the vanity of our kingdom."
Baldwin IV, The leper King of Jerusalem
"H...Heart? Your heart? Your..." Arella broke off, the young woman unable to comprehend what had just been said to her as water began to flood in her eyes, threatening to break the floodgates.
"Arella. Arella, child, you must understand..." Jordan cooed softly as the woman's face began to flush, Jordan grabbing one of her smaller hands only to have Arella violently rip her hand away, stepping back.
"No! No, no, no, no, no, NO! I do not understand and I shall not understand, Father!" Arella cried, hearing the one word echo throughout her mind again and again, taunting her with the terrible truth. The woman's small form began to shake as she shook her head, blond bangs cascading over her forehead as she hugged herself.
"H...How? How did...why? Why is God letting this happen?!" Arella cried in dismay, tears falling from her eyes as the man watched her with a sullen gaze.
"I-no, I-I prayed to God, Father! I prayed to God! How...how can He abandon us after we have gotten thus far? He cannot!" Arella screeched, hiding her face as she tried in vain to wipe her tears, Jordan sighing a deep sigh as he cleared his throat.
"And what if this is God's answer to your prayers? What if this is His will?" Jordan asked, Arella suddenly jerking swiftly, violently as her hair whipped wildly from the motion.
"What kind of God would will the death of a good man?! That is not fair! I have prayed and prayed and-" Arella suddenly quieted, her hands now digging into her eyes as she screamed.
"Nooo-oh...what kind of God would?-We-we came to Jerusalem for-to help you...why would he seek death in His city?" Arella asked, beyond heartbroken and betrayed as her voice cracked and shattered, arms weakly falling to her side.
"Arella, shhhhh. It is alright." Jordan spoke softly, slowly getting up from his position on the bench to move towards his daughter as the woman shook her head.
"No...no...e-everything is..." The woman's voice quivered as she hicked, taking in a sharp breath. Jordan approached her, his thick arms outstretched as he wrapped the small woman in a tight embrace.
Arella felt the familiar warmth and protection that had kept her safe from the darkness of the world as a child. Her father was always a great, big, burly man-almost like a castle, or a bear. Upon feeling the warmth, Arella suddenly became the child would run to her father's arms when frightened, seeking comfort and safety. And like that little girl so long ago, she sobbed into her father's chest, her small arms wrapping around his shoulders as her knees buckled and slacked. Once more, her father was her rock, her home that she could always depend upon. Jordan had always been that foundation she needed. But now, Arella couldn't help but think the horrible, terrible truth that existed in the darkest corners of her mind. This may very well be the last time she ever hugs her father.
"No, He...He...He cannot take you away from m-me! He cannot! Y...You are all I have, Father..." Arella whispered softly, Jordan rocking her gently, as if she were a small child.
"I know, child. I know." Jordan spoke, his eyes beginning to well with tears as he looked to the sky.
"After your mother died, my beloved Isolde, I prayed to God everyday-everyday-to give me the strength to raise such a beautiful daughter the way your mother would have wanted. I asked God, that before my time comes that He shall let me know. Do you not see, Arella? This is God's plan. I asked Him, that when my time comes that He may watch over you, for you do not need me anymore. You do not need your father, Arella." Jordan spoke, Arella squeezing even harder, as if afraid to let go.
"No! That is a lie! I will always need you, Father...I will always need you..." Arella whispered, her lip trembling as her breath slowly returned to normal. Jordan shook his head at her comment.
"No, dear. This is God's will, and He has something planned for you. Of what, I do not know, but...but...Arella, He shall be your father. Not I. I place your care in His hands." Jordan spoke, face sullen.
"God shall never be my father. God does not have my love like you do." Arella spoke softly, a taint of bitterness in her voice as she released a deep sigh, her body relaxing.
"In time, He will." Jordan spoke, kissing her cheek as the pair hesitantly parted, Arella taking deep breaths to calm herself.
"Shall we...return to the healer?" Arella asked, Jordan shaking his head as he chuckled slightly.
"No, dear. I want to sleep out under the stars tonight." Jordan replied, Arella pausing to respond as she looked him over.
"It will be cold tonight."
"There is always a nip of ice in the night, darling." The man commented, Arella's eyes shining with worry as the last rays of the sun disappeared behind the walls and buildings.
"I...very well. Shall I go to Kafka?" Arella asked.
"Yes, but not alone. I will accompany you there."
"Uhh...but, Father do you really think that is wise in your..." Arella broke off, unsure how to phrase her words.
"Nonsense. I shall be fine." Jordan assured, Arella giving a defeated sigh.
"Then you shall take my hand." Arella stated, Jordan looking at her with curiosity as the woman stretched out her arm for the man to take. The man looked upon the small hand before looking at her face.
"Indeed I shall." Jordan spoke, mouth agape as he nodded, and allowed her much smaller hand to grab his.
"Come now. The stables are this way." Arella spoke softly, taking her pace much slower than she normally would as she stayed close to the man, glancing at him every few minutes in worry.
Night fell by the time the pair had reached the stalls and settled down, Jordan laying on the ground in a makeshift bed as the many stars reflected in his eyes. Arella lay next to the man, her arms wrapped around her knees with a small quilt to fight off the cold as she listened to the slow, heavy breathing of her father.
"Are you warm enough, Father?" Arella asked, the young woman hearing nothing but the man's breathing for several seconds.
"I am fine...you need not worry about me." Jordan replied, Arella shuffling towards him, seeing a large amount of sweat on the man's brow. Yet despite the sweat, he appeared to shaking horribly.
"Your mother, Isolde...she loved the stars." Jordan spoke, Arella folding her quilt slightly as she dabbed the sweat from the man's brow, unsure what to do as tears welled in her eyes once more.
"Yes, I know. You told me, Father." Arella spoke, unsure what to say as she put her quilt under the man's head.
"She loved butterflies as well." Jordan whispered, Arella unsure how to respond. She had no idea if this was the fever talking.
"She did?"
"Yes. Every spring...just before summer...a butterfly would always come to your mother. Same kind...same color...it would always return...and just flutter about...landing on her hand, her nose, her stomach when she was with child-with you. She...believed it was an angel." Jordan spoke, voice slurred and pausing for breath.
"Father..."
"When you were...not even a winter old...that same butterfly landed on you, and your mother thought that...it was blessing you...watching over you. So my Isolde said 'Our daughter...she is blessed by Heaven...by an angel, and I want to honor the...the gift God has given us. What do you think of Arella?', she asked me. I said...that it was a perfect name. For I knew that God had blessed us...blessed you with an angel...with a butterfly...something that is one of the most...purest things in this world."
"Father, please...you need rest." Arella stated gently, trying to make the man more comfortable as she propped his head.
"You will be fine without me."
"Do not say that." Arella ordered firmly, sudden desperation in her voice as the man chuckled.
"I love you, Arella. Your mother would be proud. You always made me proud."
"F-Father! Father, no, I...I love you, Father. I love you." Arella spoke softly, panic in her voice as her heart began to hammer with fear.
"That is my...butterfly. Do you remember...remember what butterflies do, Arella?" Jordan asked, his brow once again slick with a film of sweat as he looked at her with half lidded eyes.
"They...always return home." Arella answered, voice soft as Jordan smiled at her.
"Yes. Butterflies...always return home. Always." Jordan spoke, his voice barely above a whisper as the night suddenly fell quiet, not even the insects were making their songs in the dark.
"F...Father?" Arella asked, her breath stilling as cold fear spread throughout her body. She couldn't think. She couldn't breath. Her mind and body were frozen by fear.
"F...F..." Arella tried again, but found herself too weak to even pronounce the word, tears flowing down her cheeks and lashes unconsciously.
In was then that she heard the sudden noise of a snore, and much to Arella's relief, a deep and raspy rhythm began to follow. Releasing a breath of air that she didn't even notice she held, Arella allowed her body to relax, her hands covering her face as her breathing shook her small form.
"Oh...thank the Lord." Arella breathed, taking a moment to collect herself as her hands fell to her side, her eyes glued on the rising and falling of Jordan's chest, waiting for that terrible moment when he would never draw breath again.
Slowly, gently, Arella laid herself down next to Jordan, her head resting on his chest as she felt the steady yet raspy moving of his lungs. Tears began to well in her eyes as she heard the irregular beating of his heart, each skip or pausing sending her into a silent panic.
"I love you, Father. I love you. God, please save him. Why are you taking so long to save him? Please. Please...I beg you." Arella pleaded gently, weakly as she glanced up at the few stars she could see from her position. Surely God would save her father, yes? He had too.
Arella prayed silently, her small hands clutching the blanket as she kept hoping, praying that God would save her father, the man that had been so good to her in all her years of life. She hoped that God would fix his heart so she would not have to worry that each beat might be his last. Surely, God would not let her down, would He?
Well, choosing to die near a stable is different. Poor Arella. I felt bad writing this. I'm not sure when the next chapter will be out cause I've been neglecting Dishonored to work on Leper, so chances are I will update Dishonored first. I'm honestly surprised by all the reviews/favorites/follows and views in general this story has gotten. I thought it would get like no views at all. Irony. Well, I thank everyone who is reading and supporting this story! I'm really surprised by the amount of reviews I got. Well, I hope you all are enjoying so far and please review! :)