Author's Notes: It is almost finished... Milliah Korsokov, Anya Korsokov, Dmitri Hitachi, Yae Hitachi, Tom Hitachi and Colette Monique are the characters that I own. All others are property of Tow Ubakata
I promise that when I'm finished with this, there will be a sequel.
Chapter Twelve: True to the Word
"Milliah!"
She was gasping for air. Had she really been stabbed?
"Durand! Go catch him! You have to stay true to the mission at ANY cost…" her expression softened. "I love you, Durand."
She pulled herself up and kissed him. She wanted him to leave her behind, but he didn't know if he could do that. He really didn't know if she would be okay, even if he did get her out of here, and he just wanted to do what she said.
"Okay…" He set her down lightly and took off in a sprint.
"I'll be okay! I promise!"
She was lying. Milliah had no choice. She couldn't have Voronsoff escape again, and she didn't want to die with her, so it was the only choice. She had been struggling with herself to stay true to her word, and she could not keep this promise.
I'm so sorry, Durand. I'll love you forever.
She did her best to stand. She had bandages in the bathroom, but the fire was blocking her path. There was a first aid kit underneath the kitchen sink. It was her only hope to get to the kitchen, for hr life depended on it.
Milliah had imagined herself dying before, but never like this.
There had been a few where she died peacefully, in her sleep. She also imagined herself committing suicide. There had been times when she thought that she would die in battle and times when she saw herself dying with honor. She'd seen herself becoming a gargoyle, and times when she could see herself dying of disease.
She'd never imagined how fragile her very life was. She did not think that she would fade away, as if she was not able to hold on.
She stumbled to the sink, and found the first aid kit.
The stab wound wasn't completely fatal-looking, in fact, if she cleaned it properly, she might have a chance at survival.
There was a flask filled with alcohol.
She smiled as she said, "This is going to hurt like a bitch."
She winced in pain as she poured the fluid on her wound. It may have hurt, but it was necessary if she was going to see Durand again.
Durand!
It wasn't that she had forgotten, but that she had realized something.
A plan was in her head.
I don't know if I should continue in this relationship. She loved her comrades, and was in love with Durand, but she didn't know if she was supposed to love him.
Durand…I'm sorry…But it's the only way I can remain true to my word…
I will make it out, but I will disguise myself. I will dress as my son, Dmitri. Durand is already in the pain of losing me, and he knows that I will die here. If I were to come back as myself, he would lose his sense of reason. I love him, and I can't let that happen…
I'm so sorry, Durand. Please forgive me.
After she finished bandaging her wound, she decided to do what she did best.
She jumped out of the fifth story window.
She was much stronger and more skilled than when she jumped out of her bedroom window in Russia. She actually knew that even though she was injured, she would make it to the ground. The hardest part, though, would be avoiding Durand.
It was a plan that she came up with in seconds, inspired by Colette Monique.
She would dress up as her son, and cut most of her hair, so she would look like a male. She would say that she stumbled upon the fire and rescued her body, but she was dead. She would say that she had her body sent to Russia, to be with her mother.
Her name would be Dmitri Hitachi.
He was going to be visiting his mother in France, because she had written him, asking him to come home so he could meet someone (implying Durand).
She wasn't completely sure if it would work, and she was not going to remain as Dmitri forever. Just long enough for her to figure things out.
It was a chance for her to decide who matters more: her missing husband, or her new love.
As she hit the ground, landing on her feet, Milliah broke into a sprint.
She had to get as far away as possible, no matter the cost.
She was carrying with her a pair of old boots, Dmitri's old waistcoat, a pair of pants and a white shirt.
And she was carrying her sword.