155: Losing himself - Bastian's POV (part 2)

Losing himself - Bastian's POV (part 2)

"The dagger has been successfully removed," spoke one physician.1

"It didn't puncture any vital arteries," said his senior.

"We will stitch him up right here," said their assistant.

Bastian rose to his feet, feeling the numbness encompassing his body from his neck down to his toes after expelling everything inside him near the trunk of the nearest tree. He observed the physicians diligently tending to his uncle, who had accepted his impending demise. His attention then turned to Egon, who resembled a bewildered child, seated behind Leopold and the physicians, hugging his knees tightly to his chest. He rocked back and forth, his vacant, dark eyes betraying the shock coursing through his trembling body.

Bastian forcefully struck his scarred eye, his stomach churning once again as he forged ahead through the pool of blood staining the ground, determined to reach his older brother. He crouched down beside Egon and enveloped him in a tight embrace.

As if enduring this agony once was not enough for a lifetime.

"Egon," Bastian choked back more bile and tears, "He will be fine, you saved him."

"What the fuc* have I done?" Egon muttered, lost in a world of regret.

Bastian glanced up at Arkin, the son whom Leopold had desperately searched for, the cousin whom neither Egon nor Bastian believed existed until now. Arkin knelt beside his father, his face as pale as the eternal snow on the Kolhis mountains. Bastian had heard Arkin blaming himself, just as Egon did, but the truth was that neither of them bore responsibility for this tragedy.

It's all my fault.

"Shh... He will be okay," Bastian said, as a low growl escaped Egon, resonating with a primal, beastly intensity.

Looking into Egon's face, Bastian knew that his brother was not fully present. He could only imagine what was going on in Egon's mind.

While Bastian retained his unwanted eye and lost both parents whom he killed on the night of his birth, he was the fortunate one between him and his brother. At least the ghosts that haunted Bastian had no faces, while the ghosts that haunted Egon from that night did.

He tightened his grip around Egon.

It should have been me who died that night.

If only Bastian had never been born, Egon and their parents could have been a happy family, far removed from the politics and ancient blood feuds. The wealth that Andreas showered upon them paled in comparison to what they had lost on that day.

"Bastian," Egon's voice suddenly sounded concerned, most likely because Bastian had started sobbing loudly.

"I'm sorry, Egon, I'm so sorry."

Under the luminous glow of the full moon in the forest, they held each other tightly, trembling in each other's embrace. Bastian's cries echoed through the night, carried by the haunting melodies of the nocturnal creatures, while Egon's tears flowed silently, shimmering like moonlit streams, as if the weight of years of pent-up emotions had finally found release.

Egon leaned his head back, wiping his face with his shirt, his gaze shifting towards his uncle lying on the ground.

"He will survive, won't he?" His voice cracked as he addressed the physicians.

"It's all thanks to the way you removed the dagger, Sir Egon," spoke the senior physician, his eyes following the steady hands of his assistant as they skillfully sewed up the unconscious patient.

Arkin let out a sigh of relief, then sat down on the ground, burying his face in his palms.

The other physician looked at Egon and Bastian, then at Arkin, with a sense of pity. "We will have an alienist examine him as soon as we return to the estate."

"Alienist?" Bastian queried, unfamiliar with the term.

"They are physicians who specialize in treating illnesses of the mind," Arkin explained in a subdued voice, withdrawing his hands and casting his gaze downward towards the father he couldn't fully accept.

"Ugh," Leopold winced and hissed, returning to consciousness as the doctors poured alcohol over his wound.

Drawing closer, Egon, Bastian, and Arkin positioned themselves. Arkin held Leopold's hand from one side, Bastian from the other, while Egon gently brushed his uncle's hair away from his forehead.

"You're alive, uncle. You gave the three of us quite a scare, but you're alive..."

Leopold's gaze remained fixed on the golden moon above them. "Atticus," he murmured with a strained voice.

More tears streamed down Bastian's remaining eye, while two teardrops quivered on Egon's lower eyelids before cascading onto his uncle's hair.

"Father knows that we need you. He wouldn't come for you this early, uncle," Egon said, his hand tenderly caressing his uncle's black hair that bore a striking resemblance to their father's.

Every bone in Bastian's body throbbed as if he were being pummeled by a thousand fighters, his heart aching at the sight of his uncle in such a vulnerable state. While Lotus had tried to fill the void of a mother, Bastian had never felt an emptiness when it came to a father, because that was what Leopold meant to him. Egon and Leopold were both his fathers, and they were all protected under Andreas's watchful care.

Andreas, why did you leave us?

Bastian pondered the question in his heart. The man who was known to the world as their cousin, but in truth, their ancestor, served as the lifeline for their entire family. Leopold derived his strength from Andreas, and if their lives were hanging by a thread, that thread bore the name of Andreas. The absence of their guiding figure left them adrift, struggling to fill the void left behind.

"Uncle," Egon's voice reverberated, his eyes radiant with the conflicting emotions of anguish and comfort. "We will bring you home soon, where all of us will be together again. You won't be alone. The three of us will be by your side, alright? You can't frighten us like this again."

Leopold winced as he took a deeper breath, surpassing the shallow ones he had been managing. "I wish you hadn't seen me like this... I am filled with deep shame,"

Leopold turned his face away, closing his eyes as if to shut out the entire world.

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