The Archduke's Songbird-Chapter 95: The Spiritual Fight

Jerrick sat by her side, his eyes unintentionally drifting to her chest. His throat dried up, and he coughed into his hand to mask his discomfort. Her hands lay still beside her, and he gently placed his hand over hers, a sigh slipping from his lips.

Closing his eyes, he was transported back to the night they had become one. Her seductive scent had been irresistible, her voice alluring, and her eyes filled with want. He yearned for it again.

He opened his eyes to find his lips brushing against hers, having unconsciously leaned in. With a soft chuckle, he pulled back and wiped her lips with the back of his finger.

"Rest now, Myna," he whispered.

He tucked the blanket around her neck, thinking about their upcoming wedding. He wanted to make their wedding night unforgettable. He decided to wait until then.

Leaning against the headboard, he watched her to see if she had a disturbed sleep. Before long, he drifted into sleep, his dreams taking him back to Ravensworth.

In his dream, he was a gardener with little to his name, but his Songbird lay on his chest. He imagined a different life. A life where he made a different choice.

He didn’t participate in the war, he was without the aristocratic titles, and without the wealth that seemed so hollow without her. More importantly, he hadn’t met that wicked woman who stirred his heart.

She hadn’t pretended to help him only to sink a sword through his soul.

And so... His Songbird was only his.

Under the mango tree where they had shared their happiest moments, he stroked her hair. Her eyes were filled with love, and she spoke to him about simple, everyday things. The scorching sun was unbearable, but her words were like a cool breeze, soothing his spirit.

I wish it could stay this way forever, he thought.

Even if it was just a dream, Jerrick longed for the happiness to last.

But it didn’t. 𝙛𝒓𝓮𝒆𝔀𝒆𝙗𝓷𝒐𝙫𝒆𝙡.𝒄𝓸𝓶

The serene garden began to darken, the beautiful colors fading into a dull gray. The familiar warmth of Myna’s presence started to wane, replaced by an eerie chill that seeped into his bones. The mango tree, once a symbol of their cherished moments, began to wither, its leaves curling and falling like autumn leaves from the tree of hope.

Rancid—Jessamyn said, about their past in her memories. The dropping leaves turned rancid in his dreams too.

Darkness crept in from the edges of his dream, a creeping shadow that swallowed the light. The once comforting rustle of leaves turned into the sinister whispers of lost souls; their eerie whispers echoed around him.

The ground beneath him was no longer the soft grass of the garden but a barren wasteland, cracked and lifeless. His Songbird was gone, her presence replaced by the echoing void of his loneliness.

But he was not alone.

Out of the shadows, a figure emerged, her presence both alluring and foreboding.

She was tall and slender, draped in dark, flowing robes that seemed to absorb the light around her. Her hair was long and as black as midnight, cascading down her back like a river of ink.

But her face drew Jerrick’s gaze—her pale skin contrasting sharply with her dark attire, and a single, piercing eye that gleamed with an evil intelligence. Where her other eye should have been, there was only a shadowy void, the secrets that eye hid were left untold.

The one-eyed seer moved with an unsettling grace, her steps silent as she approached Jerrick. Her lips curled into a smile that was meant to be reassuring, but the underlying malice was unmistakable. She radiated an aura of darkness, a chilling presence that sent shivers down Jerrick’s spine.

"Boy," she said, her voice smooth and velvety, dripping with false concern. "Why do you torment yourself so? Dreams and reality are but threads in the same weave."

Jerrick recoiled slightly, instinctively sensing the danger she posed. "Why are you torturing me?" he demanded, his voice trembling despite his efforts to sound resolute.

He tried to conjure up a spell. That woman had crept into his dreams and protection spells might work.

"Have you forgotten already, boy?" she cackled, her voice not matching the oddly graceful appearance she showed. He wondered if the one he saw was the one she was. Fear engulfed him and his fingers trembled.

"You are marrying her, against my orders!" Her evil cackle resonated in that desolate place. "You know what happens to the one you love..."

"No! I do not love her! I do not! I love Imogen and Imogen is already dead." Jerrick held his temples and sank to his knees. He lost the will to fight anymore. That woman could twist the sword that went through his soul really well. "I’m not letting her go again...I am not...I do not love her. I do not love Jessamyn."

He was unsure for it was his selfishness that urged him to keep her with him. But he did not love her and it was fine.

"You cannot change anything, boy! It is finished!" The woman’s malicious voice weighed his heart down.

But the woman continued as if she was savoring his pain. "Your love will not be fruitful. Your love is going to kill her again..." she said, her voice dripping with sadistic pleasure.

"I do not love her! I do not..." Jerrick shouted, his voice rising in desperation. He clenched his fists, his knuckles turning white. "It’s a dream... You’re not real. Get out of my dream! I command you!"

That woman’s expression didn’t change. She gazed at him with a patronizing smile, as if she were looking at a helpless child. Her single eye glinted with a mix of amusement and condescension. "Ah, but dreams often reveal the deepest truths," she purred, taking a step closer, her presence overwhelming.

Jerrick backed away, shaking his head. "No. You’re wrong..."

The seer’s laughter echoed around them, cold and mocking.

Jerrick’s heart pounded in his chest, fear and anger mingling within him. "Leave us alone," he demanded, his voice shaking. "You have no power here."

That woman’s smile widened, her eye narrowing as if she were peering into his very soul.

Jerrick shivered, unable to fight this battle in spirit. Suddenly, he remembered something. Myna! Myna knew how to fight spiritually. But how?

He was lost, not knowing the next step he should take. Swords were useless in this battle and his knowledge of spells failed him in the crucial time.

The woman spread her arms, her bellowing black robe spreading the darkness around and enveloping him.

Light! I need light!