Eliana (03) - Nine Years Cursed, Seven Years Confined
Nine years since the illness took hold. Seven years locked away in this room. How I loathed that cursed affliction that devoured my own body bit by bit. There were countless mornings I wished I simply wouldn't wake. The hunger, managed through magical artifacts, did nothing more than supply nutrients to my body—I hadn't tasted real flavor in ages. The agony radiating from my heart robbed me of sleep night after night. But the hardest to bear was the loneliness.
Of the friends I'd once grown close to, none remained, yet I remembered the letters we'd exchanged. Complaints about the endless barrage of lessons flying in on those pages. To Eliana, they were enviable beyond words. They demand too much of me, she'd think. Learning this here, that there—no time for themselves in life. Such gripes only fueled her envy. She yearned for that kind of existence too.
Anything tedious or grueling would do, so long as someone leaned on her, paid her attention, loved her. She wanted to live ordinarily, like everyone else. But whenever those thoughts surfaced, her gaze fell on the unchanging garden and room—views unaltered for years. The suffocating familiarity tightened around her throat until she felt she might choke.
When she heard the news that everyone around her had died from something akin to her illness's rampage, she thought she'd lose her mind. And with every such moment, her hunger for love grew fiercer. She missed her father's and mother's faces, conversations with her siblings. Am I still Eliana Rakatus? Locked away like this, useless to anyone—a family burden, a ticking time bomb that could explode at any moment.
Gazing at the brooch her mother had given her long ago, or turning to the window, offered small consolations. They reminded her she was still Eliana Rakatus, at the very least.
Hello.
Change arrived one day. A voice she'd never heard. A figure she'd never seen. At first, she mistook it for Emma. Only someone utterly devoid of mana could endure her side for even a dozen minutes. Even Emma, though, never came closer than the desk by the bed.
But this... A voice right beside her. Eliana knew her hearing well enough. For it to sound so loud, the speaker had to be right there.
The boy who appeared that day approached her bedside without a hint of hesitation, as if her cursed illness were nothing at all. His voice carried a calm indifference, devoid of the pained tones that had tormented her from everyone else.
It was frightening. And intriguing. The boy gladly became her conversation partner. Even when she pushed him away, fearing attachment, he brushed it off with a casual that's fine. Claiming to be her bodyguard, he knocked on her door without fail, every single day. Their time together only grew longer.
The boy's name was Kalen.
Kalen wasn't much for words, it seemed, always searching for topics she might like. It was rather amusing. Before she knew it, she'd be reminiscing about old tales tied to whatever he brought up. Were there really so many events back then? The illness must have erased them from her memory.
She didn't notice how often she repeated herself. Kalen listened silently by her side until the sun gave way to the moon. It brought her such profound peace.
The conversations always started with him at first. But when had she begun speaking first? Why had she chattered endlessly about her most private interests and curiosities—things Kalen could never know? When had her body turned toward the window?
I want Kalen to listen to me.
I want Kalen to never leave my side.
I want to match eyes with Kalen all day long.
Those words swirled in her mind, growing louder with time. The seven days with Kalen held far more weight—hundreds, thousands of times more density—than the seven years she'd spent confined. The love Eliana had so desperately craved was filling her in an entirely different way.
She knew it was selfish. Eliana Rakatus wasn't allowed to be selfish. She'd already lost so much, but she couldn't bear to lose this one boy before her.
That was the moment Eliana Rakatus let go of her obsession with her family name. And in its place, something entirely new flooded her heart.
The wave crashed over her all at once, impossible to resist. The girl couldn't contain her emotions.
Good things beget good things, as they say. At last, word came that she could visit the long-awaited Winter Island.
As Kalen delivered the news, she gazed at him hazily... Well, she couldn't quite define the feeling in her heart. Winter Island, the place she'd dreamed of for so long—yet it didn't bring the joy she'd imagined. At best, she was grateful her father hadn't forgotten her.
Winter Island this, Winter Island that. In Eliana's blurred vision, only one boy's silhouette filled her world.
What did his face look like? When she touched the area around her left eye, what snagged her fingers? ...Why was he so kind to her?
Questions piled up like mountains, unspoken. Then the carriage departed.
Unable to talk to Kalen was far more stifling than she'd anticipated. She kept her body as close to the driver's seat as possible, and even at night, when she called him inside to match her eye level, it was the same.
If she'd known she couldn't spend the whole day chatting with Kalen, would she have skipped Winter Island altogether? Eliana spent a full day pondering that.
About two weeks in, her body began to feel off. Her hands and feet grew icy, her vision and hearing worsened. Worst of all was the ominous flutter near her heart. Eliana knew exactly what it meant.
The worst flare-up of her incurable disease, etched in memory. Just recalling that day still left her breathless.
Kalen sprang to mind first. What if it happens to him too?
Dizzy with dread, Eliana nearly told him—but stopped herself. Eliana Rakatus had to shed her selfishness. But she, plain Eliana, desperately wanted Kalen by her side, even in that terrifying illness.
And soon, her fears came true. Eliana regretted it instantly.
Remembering the past event didn't prepare her; this was far worse. Her selfishness might kill Kalen.
But no words came. What escaped wasn't her true heart, but her body's screams. She had to tell him to flee—yet she couldn't.
I'm hopelessly harmful to the end.
Still, it was a relief. Kalen was clever. He'd sense something wrong and run.
The pain eased dramatically the moment she collapsed into his arms.
Her brain felt turned inside out from the torment, but she remembered everything. Kalen not fleeing, but scooping her up. Whispering hope amid her useless ramblings. Staying by her side despite the scars searing into his flesh, ignoring the blood and vomit she spewed.
In that horrific agony, that one truth burned clearest: Kalen hadn't abandoned her. He'd stayed until the end.
He must remember their conversations. Why else would he hold her?
The nursemaid, head maid, head butler, estate managers, knights—even her siblings and parents. All had given up.
Only one person in the world remained. Kalen alone stayed.
This man stays until the end.
He sacrifices so much for me.
Regret turned to hope, hope to desperation, desperation to dependence. She was hurting him, but Eliana wanted to be just a little more selfish.
Couldn't she lean on him more? He was her bodyguard, after all. He's smart—he'd keep his distance if it hurt.
Eliana was smart too. She knew those scars must ache terribly. Even without them, her blood and vomit were reason enough to flee.
As said, Eliana decided to be selfish. Amid it all, Kalen kept whispering hope. In her throbbing head, only those murmurs echoed.
The illness hurt far worse than before. Yet now, she felt overwhelmingly safe.
Belief that Kalen would stay. Reality that it hurt less with him near. The girl's world filled entirely with the boy.
How many days passed like that?
Srash—
Eliana quietly rose.
...Sleep?
Sleep? Collapse was more natural. She'd never slept through such pain.
But this was different. Her body felt refreshed, her mind clear.
"...It doesn't hurt."
Eliana murmured, stroking her head. The skull-splitting headache was gone. Like before the repetition outside the mansion—before this cursed illness.
Her mind... was clear.
"..."
Her eyes took in sharp, vivid clarity. Things that once shimmered like shadows now stood in perfect focus.
Not inside the carriage, but the driver's seat. Blankets over her. Dozing horses, vast plains. Eliana blankly lifted her gaze to the sky.
The sun was stretching awake.
Eliana wasn't foolish. She knew what this meant.
From Grand Archmages to eccentric mountain hermits—everyone had given up. Nine years with the curse.
At last, Eliana had reclaimed her old world. She could walk.
The first thing Eliana did upon waking and realizing it was not to weep with joy.
"Kalen..."
She sought Kalen, absent from the carriage. From memory, before sleep, he'd gone to wash the blankets.
Finding him was easy. She saw him. The smoke from his fire stood out crystal clear.
Her legs, unused for so long, refused to obey. Nothing like when Kalen's magic had let her walk.
Stumbling and falling, Eliana somehow made her way. Tadak-tadak. There sat Kalen, back to the campfire.
Magic or not, blankets and his clothes hung in midair. The crackle of flames was another delight.
Eliana approached cautiously. His faint breathing meant he was asleep. He'd never left her side, but must have handled backlog seeing her stable.
By ingrained habit transcending instinct, Eliana naturally moved to match his eye level, stepping before him.
"..."
She grasped his face, staring intently. Matching eyes, she gazed for a long while.
Pit-a-pat, pit-a-pat.
The disease that tormented her heart and head was gone without trace. Yet now her heart raced faster than during the illness.
And her mind? Far from stuffy, it felt dazed yet swelling full.
Careful not to wake him, she traced his face with fingers. Her eyes never left Kalen.
"...So this is what you look like."
Compared to the prince from childhood tales her mother spun, this face captivated her utterly. Eliana's faint blush and smile couldn't have been more beautiful.