Chapter 145: Ruthina’s Trapped In Her Mind

While Eiravelle and Arielle were talking, Ruthina’s brow furrowed in confusion, and she started to stir and whimper in bed, which caught Arielle and Eiravelle’s attention.

"Ruthina?" Arielle leaned forward, her hand still wrapped around Ruthina’s, her voice sharp with worry. The omega’s fingers twitched against the blanket, her face contorting as though she was fighting something in her sleep, something that only she could see.

"Ruth? Ruthina, wake up." Arielle cupped Ruthina’s face and gently shook her. The omega’s skin was hot under her palm, feverish and damp with sweat, and she could feel the fine tremors running through Ruthina’s body, the way her muscles tensed and relaxed as though she was trying to escape from something that had its claws buried deep in her mind.

"Ngh! Mm! No! Please! Please, no! It hurts, please!" Ruthina begged, and her voice was thin and broken, the voice of someone who was not fully awake but not fully asleep either. She grabbed the hem of the duvet blanket and threw her head from side to side as if she was trying to shake off the image of her nightmare. Her hair was tangled around her face, damp with sweat, and her breathing was rapid and uneven, each breath a struggle.

"Ngh! Please, I’ll be good, no more! No more! Ahhh!" Ruthina arched her back, and the sound that came from her throat was one of pure pain and terror. Her breath came in shallow gasps, her chest heaving as though she could not get enough air. The candles on the side table flickered wildly, as though they too were disturbed by her distress, and the shadows they cast danced across the walls like specters.

"Ruthina!" Eiravelle panicked as well. She looked down at Qazaevelle, who had started to stir in her arms, her tiny face scrunching up as though she could sense the tension in the room, and then at Ruthina, who was thrashing on the bed with a violence that seemed impossible for someone so gentle.

Eiravelle made a quick decision and passed the baby to Arielle, who took her automatically, her arms curling around the infant even as her eyes remained fixed on Ruthina.

Eiravelle rushed to the shelves against the far wall, her eyes scanning the neatly labeled jars and boxes for something, anything that might help. The shelves were lined with medicines and herbs, with bandages and tinctures, with the tools of a healer’s trade. She saw an acupuncture needle and grabbed it, rushing back to Ruthina’s side.

The golden rabbit was still thrashing, her hands clawing at the blanket, her face contorted with fear. Eiravelle took Ruthina’s wrist, finding the crease on the pinky side, the point that was used to calm the heart and settle fear. She pressed the needle carefully, precisely, and held it there, her fingers steady despite the panic rising in her own chest.

Slowly, Ruthina began to calm down. Her breathing slowed, her muscles relaxed, and the wild, terrified look in her eyes faded into something more distant, more confused. She blinked a few times, her gaze unfocused, and then her eyes closed again. She was still breathing heavily, but the panic had subsided, and her hand, which had been clawing at the blanket just moments before, now lay limp and still.

"Ruthina, please wake up," Arielle begged, and her voice cracked. She didn’t know what to do. She had faced enemies on the battlefield, had stared down death without flinching, had led soldiers into battle and emerged victorious against impossible odds.

But watching Ruthina suffer like this, watching her fight a battle that Arielle could not see, was more terrifying than any war. She rocked Qazaevelle gently, the baby’s warmth a small comfort against the cold fear that had settled in her chest.

Eiravelle checked the rabbit’s pulse, her fingers pressed carefully against Ruthina’s wrist, and then she sighed. "She’s trapped in her mind," Eiravelle said, and her voice was grim.

Arielle was shocked to hear that. "What? What do you mean?!" It added to Arielle’s worry, the fear in her chest growing sharper, more urgent. She thought of all the times she had seen Ruthina smile, all the times she had heard her gentle voice, all the times she had watched her care for others without ever asking for anything in return. The thought of that gentle mind being trapped, being tortured by its own memories, was almost too much to bear.

"Because of intense fear, she has retreated inside her mind. The horrors she went through keep playing, and now she’s lost," Eiravelle said, and her voice was quiet but steady. She had seen this before, had read about it in the medical texts she had studied, had heard stories from the healers who had treated soldiers returning from war.

The mind, when faced with something too terrible to bear, could simply retreat. It could hide itself away, leaving the body behind, leaving the person trapped in a maze of their own memories with no way out.

Arielle didn’t know how to react properly. She didn’t want to panic since Qazaevelle was in her arms, and the baby had started to fuss, as though she could sense the tension in the room. Arielle rocked her gently, automatically, her eyes still fixed on Ruthina’s pale, still face.

She thought of the church, of the priests who had done this to Ruthina, and a cold fury settled in her stomach. They would pay for this. She would make sure of it. But first, she had to bring Ruthina back.

"Eiravelle, what do we need to do?" Arielle asked, and her voice was calmer now, more controlled. She was still afraid, still terrified, but she was also an alpha, and alphas did not fall apart. They found solutions. They protected the people they loved.

Eiravelle shook her head. "We have to find her inside her mind," she answered.

"But how?!" Arielle demanded. "Eiravelle, answer me. How?!" The baby started to cry because Arielle’s voice had raised slightly, and Arielle immediately apologized to the baby in her arms, her voice dropping to a soothing murmur. "I’m sorry, little one. I’m sorry. Shh, it’s alright. Auntie Arielle is sorry."

Eiravelle was quiet for a long moment, her eyes on Ruthina’s still face. The infirmary felt smaller now, the walls pressing in, the candles flickering as though they too could sense the gravity of the situation. Ruthina’s breathing was steady but shallow, and her hand, which had been clawing at the blanket just moments before, now lay limp and still. The silence stretched between them, heavy with unspoken fears.

Finally, Eiravelle spoke. "I have to enter her mind."

The silence that followed was heavy and deafening. Arielle stared at her sister, her eyes wide, her mouth slightly open. "Enter her mind," she repeated, as though she was not sure she had heard correctly.

Eiravelle nodded. "It’s a technique. A healer’s technique. I can project myself into her mind, find her, and guide her back. But it’s dangerous. For both of us. If I can’t find her, or if I get lost too, we could both be trapped." She paused, her gaze meeting Arielle’s. "There’s no guarantee I’ll succeed. The mind is a labyrinth, and Ruthina’s mind is full of horrors. She might not want to be found. She might fight me without even realizing it."

Arielle’s arms tightened around Qazaevelle, the baby’s warmth the only thing grounding her in that moment. "There has to be another way," she said, and her voice was desperate. "Something else we can do. Something safer."

"There isn’t," Eiravelle said, and her voice was firm. "This is the only way. The longer she stays trapped, the harder it will be to bring her back. And if we wait too long, she might never wake up." She looked at Ruthina, at the omega’s pale, still face. "She’s been through so much, Arielle. She doesn’t deserve this. She doesn’t deserve to be trapped in her own memories."

Arielle closed her eyes, her jaw tight. She thought of Ruthina, of the gentle omega who had survived slavery, who had been hurt again and again, who had never asked for anything but kindness. And now she was trapped in her own mind, reliving horrors that should have been long behind her. Arielle could not let that happen. She could not let Ruthina be lost.

"Then do it," Arielle said, and she opened her eyes. "Do it, Eiravelle. But be careful. I can’t lose either of you." Her voice broke on the last word, and she looked down at Qazaevelle, at the baby’s tiny face, at the innocence that still radiated from her. She thought of Qazaethel, of the sovereign who was probably still in the throne room dealing with the investigation.

She thought of what Qazaethel would say if she knew what Eiravelle was about to do. But there was no time to wait for Qazaethel. There was no time to do anything but act.

Eiravelle nodded, and she reached out to take Arielle’s free hand, squeezing it gently. "I’ll bring her back," she promised. "I’ll bring both of us back." She looked at Qazaevelle, at her daughter, and a fierce determination settled in her heart. She would not let this child grow up without her aunt. She would not let Ruthina be lost to the darkness.

She pulled a chair close to the bed and sat down, taking Ruthina’s hand in hers. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath, steadying herself, preparing herself for what she was about to do.

The infirmary faded around her, the sounds of Qazaevelle’s soft cries and Arielle’s worried breathing fading into the background, and she focused all of her attention on Ruthina, on the fragile, frightened mind that was waiting for her somewhere in the darkness.

She thought of everything she had learned about this technique, everything she had read and studied and practiced. It was not a common skill, not something that could be learned from books alone. It required a deep connection to the person you were trying to help, a willingness to share their pain, to walk through their memories, to face their fears alongside them. It required strength, and courage, and a willingness to risk everything.

Eiravelle had all of those things. She had spent her whole life learning how to survive, how to protect, how to fight. And now she would use those skills to save Ruthina. She would not let the church win. She would not let them destroy another innocent life.