Blessed Cursed Love

Chapter 5

"Wait!" I turned just as Wyatt was reaching out for me. He pulled his hand back quickly, and I saw fear flash through his eyes.

"It doesn't work on blessed. You're safe." I informed him as I pulled my gloves off. "I would like to be left alone." His eyes softened slightly.

"I thought there was only one person blessed by the god of death a long time ago."

"200 years ago," I said and he nodded. "That was me. Is me." I informed him and watched his eyes go wide. "Since I am blessed by the god of death, I can't die unless he allows it. He does not allow it." Nor would he ever, it seemed. I was sure one day he might, but it would be far beyond what I could imagine. I was sure.

"That sounds lonely then." I furrowed my brow at him. Lonely? I guess. I had to watch other people grow old and die. Watch people cringe back away from me even if they come nowhere near touching me. I could never have a real family. Not with my curse. The only person I could be with would be another blessed, and they avoided me for much the same reason. The god of death was feared even by those with the power of the gods bestowed upon them. He was one of the most powerful gods, but he never meddled in mortal affairs. I was the one exception and that was a scary thought. What made me so special to such a fearsome being?

"Why are you here?" I asked suddenly and he flinched.

"We heard this land was cursed, so we-"

"I know that part," I said, cutting him off, and he didn't seem surprised I was already aware of the reason for them coming here. "I meant HERE. Chasing me down the hall." I looked to confirm he was the only member of his party who had chased me out of the room.

"You seemed upset, and I didn't want to leave like that." He reached into the top of his armor and pulled a small pendant off his neck. "Here." He held out to me the sigil of the blessed. Proof that the person wearing it had been officially registered with the kingdom.

"Why would you give that to me?" He hesitated for a moment and then reached forward and took my hand. He wasn't wearing his gauntlets and so his skin touched mine as he put the pendant in my fingers.

"I doubt you want the king to know you are still alive. Wear this and no one will question you." As he held my hand shut around the sigil, his eyes glowed softly. I felt a rush of energy and life through my fingers to my whole body. Suddenly, Wyatt was pushed back away from me as a god appeared between us.

"Hands off. Your god will not approve of you involving yourself with my blessed." Wyatt glared at him for a moment.

"Does he approve of you meddling in this woman's life?" I opened my hand to look at the small pendant I was given. Maybe I should return it? I wanted to owe this man nothing. I just wanted him to kill me. "Will you not answer me? Do you only speak when your blessed is involved? Say something Sephtis." In the blink of an eye, Wyatt was launched down the hall, smashing into the wall so hard it cracked from floor to ceiling. I watched his eyes glow as his body healed itself as he went to stand.

"Do not speak my name, mortal. You have no right." I watched him approach Wyatt as my whole body froze in fear. The power leaking into the air made me afraid. I looked at Wyatt as he grit his teeth together. He would kill him if I didn't do something. The god of death was not the forgiving sort.

"You have a name?" I managed to say around my closing throat. He turned to me and I felt as the rage in the air retracted as he saw my hands begin to tremble. He frowned softly. "You never told me," I said, and glanced at Wyatt as he stood. He was wise enough to leave before he got himself killed. In truth, I had never thought about him having a name. He was never friendly to me. He popped in when he seemed bored just to piss me off. I had never cared to get close to him. He was a god, and I was just a mortal who never asked him to be in my life.

"You never asked." He stepped over to me as his anger fully calmed. "You may use my name if you wish. It is Sephtis. Call it if you need me. I will always hear it." He took my chin in his hand to make me meet those black eyes of his. "You are the only mortal with the right to use it though." Then, just like that, he faded away. He was so dramatic. I was tired of his tantrums and the way he seemed determined to keep other blessed away from me. I knew why. He was well aware that I wanted to die. He would not allow it though, no matter how much I wanted it. I still had no clue why.

Why had he even picked me? Just because I was a soul from another world? Because my tragic and sudden end had flung me out of wack? Was it because he was the god of death, and I was the only mortal who could understand death? Because I had died. Did that make me special to him somehow or was he simply a child with a favorite toy? Did he simply see me as something to amuse himself with until he got bored? As a god, his patience was far greater than a mortal could understand. 200 years was probably nothing to him. How long would I have to wait before he got tired of me though?

I didn't belong here. Not just in the world, but in the story. I wasn't even a side character. I should have died long before Wyatt was ever born. Long before he was chosen by the god of creation and long before he fell for the princess. Yet here I was. In the way of the main character of one of my favorite novels. I knew how it ended. Wyatt would retire as a knight after saving the world from a man trying to revive a dead god. A god killed for trying to destroy the world entirely. He would stop him and then marry Princess Rose. He would become the new king and be a kind and well-loved ruler.

So why was he here? This land was never mentioned in the story beyond a passing reference. A warning to travelers about its curse. Wyatt never showed up here or took an interest. So why? Was it because I was here? Because I didn't belong? Was he here because he was called to remove me from the story? Was his true purpose to kill me all along? Had his god sent him? To remove a wrench in the gears making the story stall out? The god of death was mentioned by the main villain more than once. Was my presence pulling him from the story?

I didn't have time to dwell on it. It mattered little why or how he was here. I just had to convince him to kill me. He wouldn't do so if I simply asked him to. He was far too kind. I looked at the pendant in my hands. A testament to that kindness. He was willing to allow me to hide from the king because he took pity on my sad existence. I would have to do something to earn his blade. Something worth being killed over. I realized at that moment what I would have to do. I hated myself for it, but I knew it was the easiest way. I would have to try and kill the princess.