Chapter 2

It had been a thousand days.

Every single day, as the first rays of dawn touched Willowbrook Sanctuary, I'd press a special silver needle to my chest, draw three drops of blood from my heart, and let them fall onto the veins of the Soulbloom.

As the blood soaked in, the leaves would shimmer with a soft red glow, as though the plant was waking from a long slumber.

The first year, I was just weak, constantly dizzy.

The second year, my magic began to fade, and I fell from a mid-level mage to a novice.

The third year, my hair started falling out in clumps. At night, my chest ached so badly that I couldn't sleep. I could only curl up and endure until morning.

But I never once regretted it.

Whenever the pain became unbearable, I'd think of Evan.

I'd picture him as a young man, training with his sword at the Silverblade Order, his white shirt swirling, his sword gleaming like snow.

I'd remember how, even after he got sick, he'd still force a smile and say, "Claire, I'm fine."

I'd imagine that one day, he'd pick up his sword again and become the extraordinary warrior he once was.

How laughable.

I poured all my love and blood into the Soulbloom, and he handed it over to someone else without a second thought.

"You only said I couldn't give it away..." Evan's voice pulled me back to reality. He was still struggling, still trying to make excuses. "You never said it could kill someone. You never said it only works for..."

"Only for someone who loves me?" I finished for him.

He fell silent, his face turning ghostly pale.

Yeah, that was the cruelest truth of all, wasn't it?

The Soulbloom bonded to its owner through love. It could only revive the one the owner truly loved. For anyone else, it was a lethal poison that would destroy them from the inside out.

"You didn't know." I stared at him, enunciating each word. "Because you never wanted to know."

Evan shook his head, retreating until his back slammed into the fence. He covered his face, shoulders trembling.

I couldn't tell if he was crying for Lily, for himself, or for the absurd mess we found ourselves in.

But I knew there was one thing he still hadn't asked.

Sure enough, he looked up, that wild desperation flickering in his eyes. "What about now? Is there any way to save Lily? Can you plant another Soulbloom, or... or use your blood again?"

See? Even now, Lily was all he cared about.

"The Soulbloom only grows once every thousand years," I cut him off. "And I can't draw blood from my heart anymore."

He stared at me, finally, really seeing me for the first time. He took in my pale face, my gaunt figure, the premature lines at the corners of my eyes, and my hand, still trembling slightly as I hid it in my sleeve.

"You..." His Adam's apple bobbed. "What happens when you draw blood from your heart?"

So he finally bothered to ask.

After his beloved Lily was destroyed brutally by the Soulbloom he gave her, he finally asked about me.

"It shortens my life, takes away my power, and hurts like hell," I said coolly. "But it doesn't matter. You never cared, anyway."

With that, I turned and went back inside.

Just before I closed the door, I heard his hoarse voice. "Claire, I'm sorry."

I closed the door and slid down against it, sinking to the floor.

I'd waited three years, and finally, he said he was sorry.

But it was too late.

Lily was gone.

And my heart died a thousand days ago, the moment I first bled for the Soulbloom.

*****

For the next three days, Evan acted like he'd lost his mind.

He tore through every old book in Willowbrook Sanctuary, scattering yellowed medical texts all over the floor, desperately searching page after page. His nails dug so hard into the paper that they started to bleed, but he didn't even notice.

He kept mumbling under his breath, "There's got to be a way to save Lily."

Sometimes he'd suddenly look up at me, his eyes shining so bright it was almost scary. "Claire, you must know something, right? Willowbrook Sanctuary has forbidden techniques. Those life-for-life spells..."

I stayed silent, just preparing my Heartdew.

I couldn't afford to skip a single dose of Heartdew. If I did, I probably wouldn't survive the winter.

"Say something!" On the evening of the third day, he finally snapped, rushing over and knocking the pot from my hands. The scalding Heartdew splashed onto my skin, and it instantly flushed red.

He froze, seeming about to reach out, but stopped himself.

"I'm sorry," he said hoarsely. "It's just... Lily's still lying in the ice coffin. Her body's still warm and soft, like she's just asleep. Claire, she really does look like she's just sleeping."

I knew what it meant for Lily to die from the Soulbloom.

I hadn't witnessed it myself, but after three years raising the Soulbloom, I understood its nature, or rather, its toxicity.

If the one who took it wasn't the person the owner truly loved, the Soulbloom wouldn't restore their vitality. Instead, it would devour their life force.

On the first day, they'd feel light and clear-headed, like all their troubles had vanished.

On the second day, they'd start seeing visions of their deepest desires coming to life.

By the third day, their blood vessels would twist, they'd bleed from eyes, ears, nose, and mouth, and they'd die slowly, caught between pure bliss and excruciating agony.

They would die with a smile lingering on their lips.

Because the Soulbloom's illusions were so breathtaking that the victims would never want to wake up from them.

"Did she... suffer when she died?" Evan suddenly asked, his voice barely above a whisper.

I looked into his bloodshot eyes, and suddenly, I remembered the day Lily came to Willowbrook Sanctuary.