Among the machines, they watched their mistress drag herself across the floor without uttering a single word. Their mechanized voices asked about her needs. She, with a hoarse voice, denied having any.
The iron nails scratched the floor, her legs hidden by the darkness. The robots slid toward the armor and there was only blood. The arms that once belonged to the Pillar of Knowledge were trapped inside the armor, with veins loose in the air and bones exposed at the stump.
And the legs... they remained in the same place. Then, when they faced the shadow in Aurora, when she was illuminated by the room's light, only emptiness remained.
She climbed onto her familiar chair, saliva escaping from her mouth, hair disheveled and eyes unfocused. She ordered them to create new limbs for her, without anesthesia. They replied that, due to their programming, they were incapable of harming her, but she ignored them and ordered again, because she had created them and they should obey only her.
The bright eyes of each creation focused on the scattered pieces of iron around the room, trying to at least understand the reason for the lack of anesthesia, after all, the surgery could cause indescribable pain to Aurora. With a laugh escaping her mouth, she simply stated that she wanted to feel the pieces fitting into her body, to feel when she should destroy those pieces to improve them to the maximum.
Without any response from her parts, they moved through the room to gather the appropriate tools.
***
The boy looked through the glass as the doctors examined the queen from top to bottom. Their pincers removed pieces of wood and ice from her flesh and those with the gift of magic placed their hands on the woman's chest. Water entered her blood vessels, extracting the reddish energy from her body, and fire burned them with surgical precision.
Her words were a mixture of concerns and demands to her assistants. From time to time, a few of them looked at the boy through the glass with a look that told him to trust them. He stepped back, clenching his hands, murmuring for his sister to be safe.
Far from that hospital, he walked among the kingdom's houses. People greeted him with formal gestures, as if they were not speaking to Gyne Silver, but to the brother of Queen Carolina Silver. In his castle, the housekeeper approached with an announcement of his duties. He thanked her, asking to be left alone for a moment.
While walking through the corridors, firmly holding the cape on his back between his fingers, she followed him, lamenting the state of his sister, trying to make him believe that everything would be fine. He looked at her over his shoulder and his tone became darker, his voice escaping between wisps of smoke, telling her not to convince him of a lie. In his words, Carolina was not just weakened, she was on the brink of death.
She lowered her gaze and pressed the broom against her chest, apologizing. He only nodded, saying he would not wait for her, that he was no longer a protected child, but a man, young, but a man.
She replied that she never doubted his capabilities, she had accompanied him for years, she only asked that he not carry the entire weight of a kingdom on his shoulders. He shook his head, arguing that there were no choices. He would protect that kingdom with whatever was necessary.
So he closed the library door, apologizing for having been rude at some point. The woman remained silent and walked to the giant window, looking at the entire frozen kingdom with shining eyes, but with a small smile forming on her lips.
She spoke to herself that Carolina had raised a true man.
Hours later, amid screams with every swing of his sword and sweat falling to the floor, the maid entered through the door, asking permission to interrupt Gyne's training temporarily. He looked at her, panting, as if time were limited, questioning the girl's purpose. And the answer made him run out of the castle.
Upon entering the room, the doctors tried to warn him of something, but were pushed aside to reach his sister. She saw him with one eye, a small smile escaping her lips, a childish voice coming from her mouth, asking why her boy looked so desperate.
He held her hand, crouching down, trying to understand everything that had happened to her. She said the surgery was a success, however, she needed to recover to see if she could walk again.
He gritted his teeth, clutching his chest. Without waiting for permission, he lifted the blanket over her legs and covered his mouth, but swallowed what might have escaped. He touched her as if touching a sick bird, sliding between the fractures and purple marks. The arms covered in bandages, thin.
He laid his head on her stomach, sobbing. The weak voice mixed with affection begged him not to let her see him cry, because a man like him was not one to shed tears.
He did not answer her for a minute, with the only sentence being formulated as an apology for not having protected her, it should have been his. And she laughed softly, calling him a foolish little brother.
The health professionals clasped their hands at their waists, silent. With the sound of the boy's sobbing being the only thing covering the silence.
***
In a hospital bed, a man's fingers moved, his eyes slowly opened to absorb the room's light. He looked to the side, his wife, with no signs of waking. He tried to move his body, but it did not obey. He tried to call her, but the voice did not escape.
Through the glass with no curtain protecting the outside view, he saw the darkness gradually disappear as corridor lights turned on between long seconds. The metallic sound of iron hitting the floor made his eardrums itch.
Then, when the corridor leading to his room lit up, the figure with gray hair appeared at the door. Her eyes fixed on his through the gap in the middle of the door. The handle lowered and the door revealed her.
From neck to feet there was no longer humanity, only wires connected between the rust. She walked slowly without saying anything, calling him by name, Faller. His eyes widened, low and stammered words trying to decipher the truth, but were interrupted by the cold hand tasting of blood covering his mouth.
While speaking, the wires in her throat moved like a melody that once were vocal cords, telling him to rest a little longer. Before her hand could move, Faller gathered strength, placing his hand on her face, telling her not to do what she was going to do. She did not react, only disconnected what fed nutrients into his veins, making him groan as his arm dropped. She said it was not personal, but she knew how stubborn her friend was. And now it was time for her to do something good in that life.
Silence took over everything, and when his breathing became more even, she reconnected the lines again. She turned her back, her head turning to stare at the woman in the blue dress for long seconds before leaving the room like a ghost that had never been in that room.