The Worth of Things [Erchanhardt, Helle]

When did she fall into the sea? Her last thoughts were that of being carried away to safety. It seems, even in the end, not even He could remedy that mistake that Helle had made. In the end, she really was meant to perish, lost in the depths belows. It is strange, being aware, and yet, unable to react. The sky is pretty, at least, its blurry visage some solace before the waves took away her vision once more. Water rushed into her ears again, the cartilage attached to the sides of her head ringing with pain, the roaring noise too much for her brain to handle. She soon lost consciousness.

Suddenly, she is awake again, her mind conscious of her surroundings once again. It seems she was not drowned during her last bout with darkness. Strangely enough, she is aware of another individual in the water with her, some person carrying her through the forceful waves. Who is this? Is it Him? It couldn’t be. Soon, surrounded by loud voices and blurry movement, she felt her consciousness begin to fade again, her body giving up once again despite being safe from the harsh sea.

Again, she found herself awake. This time she is in a room, her body unable to move. Her pale emerald eyes moved, barely widening as she bore witness to her own person. Tubes, machines, and the sort: attached to her body like some weird sci-fi movie scene. Time has lost all meaning to her, for it all felt like a dream. She isn’t in her own body anymore, for this couldn’t be her. The shock of herself struck a chord within her mind, and she felt herself losing herself to the darkness one last time. This time, her mind fell the furthest it ever had as she finally dreamed. She dreamed of better times, of a different future for herself. Anything to escape from reality. Though, the next time she woke up, she would see nothing more than the cruelty of fate.

Tubes and wires, hooked up to Helle’s body, administered the necessary nutrients for her to continue living. The doctors have yet to allow her the freedom of feeding herself. They are still running tests on the condition of her body, mainly, her heart. Whatever had happened had left her heart in a critical state, the stress proving near fatal. However, they were able to get it under control and in a stable condition. Unfortunately, that left the left side of her body in bad shape. It was as if something had tore through her and left the bones, muscles, and tendons in her body in bad shape.

To Helle, this all proved torturous. She hates it here, trapped like an animal being experimented on. Her thoughts focused on the Vandenreich through it all though. Whenever she was conscious, she would try to think of her next steps. What is after this? Does she return home? Continue her duties? Pretend that nothing happened? It wasn’t until she heard the door open and close that her thoughts stopped focusing. She did not open her eyes though, wondering exactly who had entered her room. She allowed them to think her asleep for the time being.

How long did he sit there waiting? Helle, who had pretended to be asleep, bless her heart, had actually gone to sleep. She was out for a while too, lost in another dream. Though, when she did wake up, her eyes slowly fluttered open, near gray emerald eyes focusing on nothing in particular until her mind registered the large man in the room.

“Erchanhardt,” She muttered under her breath, her throat still raw and hoarse after so long of salt water scratching her vocal cords. Helle did not bother trying to move, finding herself still as lame as before. When will her position change? When will she be able to rise, sit up, stand? So many questions filed through her mind, but they were all silenced as she allowed herself a minute to refocus on her current situation.

No doubt, she’s soon to be assaulted with questions or words of concern. It is only natural, after all. She is but a wounded woman on a boat owned by a German Emperor.

“No.”

No to what? Explaining her situation? Reporting to the Vandenreich? Both? Helle found it difficult to speak beyond her curt response, finding herself already winding from the simple necessity that is breathing. Even the mask on her face did little to make her voice any stronger than what it already is. It was all in her eyes though. Her expression, horrendously pained and full of regret, spoke volumes about her current headspace. She wanted nothing less than to relate her issues with outsiders, and she wanted the Vandenreich to understand her plight even less. What would be the point of sharing her failings with those who act at such bare levels of care? Why sully the energy of those who have better things to do?

As she continued breathing, it took all her strength to simply turn her head over to the side, away from Erchanhardt. Sleep sounds good. She just woke up, but it’s hard to keep her eyes open. She hates this. She wants to escape from this, but her only salvation is a world unknown to this one. There is only one way to reach that world, so it came to no surprise when her eyes went to close once again. Sleep hasn’t taken her yet, but if he wished for more words, then it will take a bit to get them out of her.