Disclaimer: No, I do not own AGATB or RA. And unfortunately, that means I don't own Kartik.

God, I had to post this. Yes, it's horribly horrible. Depressing, tragic, you know. This story was poking at me, begging me to type it up. And so I did.

I warn you, if you read the first line and feel nauseous, I suggest you read no further.

Okay. To be fair, I pretended that all the romance moments between Kartik and Gemma never happened. It doesn't hurt as bad.

Oh, and just a note, the section in the middle in italics is a dream that Kartik has.

Please, read on. I would love you to review on this particular story.

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I regret killing her.

Her great green eyes begging me to stop, begging me to release her, set her free. The shine of tears, the tears I knew were of betrayal. Her quick and gasping breath beneath my sweaty palm: the last flutter of a dying bird's wings. Those dark lashes, a shocking contrast to her china skin, flickering like a candle's light. The sudden stop of breath and the dull gleam of her emerald eyes. I sent her, I handed her life over to death.

The magic is of the Rakshana's posession, now. And I am in the high ranks. We can come and go from the realms as much as we wish, but, all the beauty - there is something missing. The very flowers seem to wilt as I touch them.

I feel I cannot stay in London, but going back to India does not seem a good choice, either. The two places remind me of her too much. But London was the place I chose, and the place I shall stay.

My head lands on the cool wood of the desk I sit at, in a library. The scratching of flipping pages and the rustling of clothing are quite calming. Sometimes I tend to drift off, the musty smell of books and desks, the dim lighting whispering me sweet promises. Promises of peaceful slumber.

Wherever I turn, I see her face. The pain etched into her brow; dissapointment, panic, and the pleading. I clutch at my curls tightly, forcing the thoughts out of my head.

"Kartik," she says, a gentleness in her voice. "You said you wanted to talk with me?"

"Yes," I reply. I had left a note on her pillow: Meet me in the woods at midnight. I have matters to discuss with you. "You have bound the magic, I see?"

A smile lights up her face. "Yes, I did. And I used the words you told me to use." A shadow flits across her face, disturbing her pleasant features. "What does the Eastern Star mean?"

"Miss Doyle," I say, ingnoring her question. "You have done wonderfully."

She nods. "And now that the magic is bound, the realms are safe at last, I believe?"

I scuff my feet against the forest floor nervously. "I believe so, yes."

Then you must kill her, a voice echoes in my thoughts.

She smiles widely, and turns away, wandering deeper into the forest. Gemma, please, don't make this any easier...more tempting.

The lake comes into view, ghostly moonlight dancing off of the smooth surface. She suddenly loses her footing by the edge of the lake, arms flailing. A yelp escapes from her lips, alerting every muscle in my body.

"Gemma!" I gasp. I race to her and manage to sling my arm around her waist before she falls into the black water. I realize I am pressing her body to mine, and she tenses immediately. Feeling midly nauseous, I push her away.

"T-thank you, Mr. Kartik." She fixes me with a green stare, something dances in her eyes: surprise.

A shiver runs its finger up my spine, whispering sweet words into my ear. Kill her...

"Kartik?" Her voice strikes my attention. "Are you unwell? You were shaking..."

I am unwell, very unwell. My heart beating a thousand apologies, my breath warning me to stop. Kill her...

"You're so pale," she murmers. She glides towards me, hips swaying. I let out a strangled moan.

She suddenly stops. I shake my head. "Gemma."

Her hand reaches out, settling on my forehead. "You're burning," she whispers. Her rose red lips forms an 'o'.

How could I kill her? I have an urge to push everything away, sit in a dark corner and think of innocent things.

"Gemma." My heart races.

She takes a step closer to me. Her eyes are frozen to mine; I cannot break away.

Her arms wrap around my neck, and I feel the soft fabric of her dress in my hands. Her face edges towards mine, those wonderful eyes...

Kill her.

I snap my head away from her gaze. My hands fly to her shoulders, pushing her away. Those long, graceful arms drop from my neck. I catch something in her eyes before she looks away: hurt.

Kill her.

No, I can't.

Kill her.

I can't, I won't.

Don't dissapoint the Rakshana..

I shake my head. Stop.

Don't dissapoint Amar.

"Amar." My voice shakes.

"Kartik," Gemma's eyes widen.

He was taken, taken, taken, because he defended. He defended, because of ..because of her. Her.

I fall onto the grass, with a loud thud, desperately willing the thoughts to leave me.

Her hand flies to her mouth, and she takes a few steps backward. "Kartik," she says fearfully. "What's wrong?"

"Gemma," My voice comes out as a hoarse whisper. I rise, feeling dizzy. I stumble forward, into her arms, pushing both of us into the lake. The cold water pushes me down into the endless dark. My arms cut through the water fiercly. The cold moonlight comes closer, closer.

Cool spring air rushes into my lungs. I choke at the water stinging at my throat. "Gemma," I say, expecting her to be swimming right beside me. No answer. "Gemma?" I swim in a circle. "Gemma!"

Without a thought, I dive. Back into the dark, into the dark that threatens to drown me. To drown her.

I kick my legs, thoughts of her lost in this darkness, slowly growing numb, her heart losing its beat...

My arms touch strands - strands of hair. I wrap my arms around what I can touch, hold her close to me.

The moonlight illuminates the droplets of water on her face. I pull her back to shore, heart racing. Dead weight.

I thrust my head to her face: her breath comes faintly and slowly. I pull her up against me, her head lolling lifelessly on my shoulder. Water spurts from her mouth, and her breath becomes fast and scratchy. Bouts of coughing posess her, and I fear that she will cough her life away. Her eyes open, mouth widening. I sense what will happen next, and I place my hand tightly against her mouth, muffling the scream that follows.

She shivers uncontrollably in my arms, and I tighten my hand on her mouth. Her breath is quick and uneven. She turns her green eyes up at me, a curious shine in the depths of those orbs.

As if something has posessed me, I lay her down onto the forest floor and pin her down. Her eyes widen in alarm, but all I can think of is the darkness, swallowing her, me, Amar...

She starts squirming under my weight, put I pay no heed. If I could not save Amar, I must save her, she can't be touched by the darkness, the darkness creeping closer to us.

I am suddenly aware of the desperate gasps for breath under my hand still perching over her mouth and nose. I must save her, save her...

Her breath suddenly stops. It is then I pull my hand away from her face. Her green eyes stare dully up at me, quiet and unfeeling. What have I done?

You killed her, initiate.

No, how could I?

I feel a tap on my shoulder. A lady with glasses perched on her beak-like nose peers down at me disdainfully.

"Sir, the library is closing, now."

I stand up before she can say more. "Ah, yes. A good day to you."

My behaviour could be called rude, for all I care. I hurry out of the library, sprinting along the streets, pushing through crowds of people, ignoring the annoyed glances my way.

I continue to run blindly, faster with each step. My heart burns, and my legs beg me to stop. I turn a sharp corner into a deserted alley. My hands scratch against the stone wall behind me as I slide down to the dirty ground. I count my quick breath, trying to calm my shaking body.

The image of her lifeless green eyes haunt me. The feeling of fear urging my heart to race. My palm clasped tightly against her mouth. I run a hand through my hair, perhaps the hand that killed her, left her cold and dead, soul gone somewhere else. I stand shakily and wander again into the busy throng of people.

Taking slow steps, a contrast to my sudden sprint minutes before, I don't notice that I am heading towards the Doyle residence until I recognize the familiar pattern of cobblestone on the ground. No one would be there, with her grandmother and family in the country to spend the summer.

I saw her funeral. I, hiding in the bushes, hands cold as ice, as the water in the lake. I saw the lid of the ornate coffin shut closed, trapping her for eternity. I saw the coffin lowered into the dark hole in the earth. I saw those men bury her. Bury her...

"Excuse me!" huffs a lady in expensive silk and diamond earrings as I accidentally bump her shoulder.

"Beg your pardon, ma'am," I mumble, head bowed.

I stop in front of the Doyle house. The curtains are drawn, and no gardeners are in the yards tending flowers. The emptiness gives the place an eerie feeling. I make to turn away, and even then, the cold feeling of loneliness creeps up my spine.

I know my way around the Doyle residence much too well. I decide to go to the stables at the back of the house, where I had spent so many nights discussing matters of the realms with Gemma. Sometimes we would wander well off topic; her eyes would cloud over, as if pondering the life before her. But I had cut her dreams off.

A slight breeze rustles my hair when I bend over and pick up a tiny brown acorn. I remember the night I had threatened to kill myself with it, how her eyes lit up in amusement, and how her suspressed laugh sliced into the air gracefully.

All is silent except the sound of my feet trailing on the dirt. I see the carriage standing. No horses.

I reach out and open the carriage door. By the squeaking on the hinges, I can tell that the carriage hasn't been oiled for quite a while. The darkness envelopes me as I shut the door closed. The curtains are drawn, and all openings sealed. I sit in the dark for a moment, resting my chin on my palm. I feel myself sinking into the cool seat, thoughts lazily wandering.

I remember the nights when Gemma and I would sit beside this carriage, she perched primly on a short stool, and I sometimes kneeling or pacing before her. I remember the discussions about the realms, her eyes flashing dangerously whenever the small chat became a heated argument. The realms. I want to go to the realms. Right now.

I cannot remember summoning the door, but when I step through the glowing door frame, the sunlight strikes my eyes painfully. The contrast of the black of the carriage and the blasting light of the realms is stunning. Everything seems to fall silent as I take hesitant steps further into the realms. I cannot identify the tinkling of water, I cannot hear the singing of birds.

My whole body shakes as I see a shadow step into view behind me. It becomes leaner and leaner as the figure comes closer. A hand falls onto my shoulder, and I hold back a yelp.

"Kartik." A voice so familiar; it breaks my heart.

I cannot turn around, I am afraid to.

"Kartik." The voice has a pleading tone in it. I still cannot will my feet to turn me around.

Her hand slides off my shoulder. A feel of panic and dissapointment fill my stomach. She wouldn't leave me now, would she?

Instead of tunring me around to face her, she steps in front of me. I have no escape now. Those familiar green eyes stare into my brown ones. Something is missing in the depths of those orbs.

"Gemma." My voice sounds foreign and hoarse. I cast my eyes onto the emerald green grass I am standing on, so much like her lovely green eyes...

"Kartik," she speaks my name with no hatred or anger. "I have been waiting for you."

A sudden realization flashes through my mind. Hasn't she crossed over yet? If she hasn't...

"Waiting for me?" I echo stupidly. A lump forms in my throat.

She ignores me and continues speaking. "From the day that you sent me here -"

I wince. She speaks of this as if we were back at the stables, back when she was living.

She doesn't look at me when she talks. "- I had been trapped here. I don't remember much, but I awoke here recently. How long has it been since? Since I -?"

Surprised at the sudden change of subject, I answer, "It's been almost a month now." I feel like a fool. It was I who decided her end. Not Circe, or those damned corsets that women chose to wear. And here I am, talking so casually about her death. Talking to her about it.

"Gemma -"

"I'm sorry -"

Our eyes catch. I foget my manners and say, "Why are you sorry? It was all my fault."

I see her eyes flash angrily as she shakes her head. Her voice is rough and strained as she whispers, "No, no. It was all my fault. If I had never been born who I am, who I was, this would never have happened. If I hadn't trusted you, I woudn't be here now. If I hadn't gone to meet you in the woods that night..." Gemma turns away from me, her eyes glistening with tears.

I long to bring her back to our world, where she would be alive. "Gemma, I am the one who is at fault. I am the one who stopped your life, your breath, your heartbeat. I was a fool, for doing what I did." I hesitate. But Gemma takes my hesitation as admitting her own words.

"I was the fool. I was the foolish one who trusted a murderer. I had a murderer follow me about. I had a murderer come into my room and do whatever he wished -"

I take Gemma by the shoulders and shake her gently. Before she can react, I kiss her. I do not know why I do so, but I find myself enjoying it. A few careful heartbeats pass before I lift my lips off hers. A surprised look is painted on her face: emerald eyes wide open, those sweet lips parted slightly.

"Shhh," I soothe as soon as I see tears rolls down her cheeks. It is obvious she wants to hide them, but she tries in vain. She looks so vulnernable, so different from her usual strong, stubborn self. I wrap my arms around her hesitantly, and I soon feel deep sobs shaking both her body.

When her sobs slowly subsides, she says weakly, "You don't know how scared I was. You don't know what being dead and waking up, realizing that you've left your world behind, feels like." She sniffles. "When you told me I had been dead for a month, I thought I was corrupted; it was the only logical explanation."

If she had been in the realms all this time, not crossing over, wouldn't she be corrupted? Pulling away, I run my eyes over her face, and see nothing unusual. No, she isn't corrupted. The High Priestess can't be corrupted.

"Cross over, Gemma; you can't wait anymore." I grimace at my sudden certainty. I remind myself that that is the right thing to do. No matter who you are, you must cross over, else be corrupted. The Rakshana have always taught me so, unless they were wrong.

Fear disrupts her face. "After I cross over, everything will end for me, won't it?" She says that like a statement intead a question. I bite my lip, thinking. I have nothing to go back to, nor do I have anything to look forward to.

After making my final decision, I take her hand. "Not everything," I reply softly, ignoring the confusion on her face. She glances at my hand held tight around hers.

I lick my lips. "Take me with you." My voice is hardly audible, but I can tell she hears me. Her eyes widen and she shakes her head stubbornly.

"No, Kartik, you have a life to live. All the beauty of living I no longer have. Can't you do that for me? Live your life to the best, for me?" Her eyes plead desperately. She squeezes my hand.

I am at a loss of words. "It won't feel right, Gemma."

She smiles reassuringly. "I'll wait for you on the other side, I promise." Her eyes dart toward the river, beyond it, where she would have to go, else head to the Winterlands. The pale hand slips from my dark one. She seems to be mesmerized by the thought of crossing over, because she doesn't say anything else, intead moves to the river, as if in a dream.

All this time I am frozen to my spot, daring myself to follow her. My voice is trapped in my throat. No matter how much I want to call out to her, tell her to bring me along, no words would come out of my mouth. I watch her swim across the river effortlessly, each sweep of the arm bringing her closer to the beautiful horizon in the distance.

She rises from the other side of the river, hair ablaze, and glides to the stunning scenery. I find that I have been holding my breath, and let it out in a sigh. I will the door of light to appear, and turn my back to this world of wishes.

She's gone. Forever gone.

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Okay. I've been working on this fic for so long. I swear, I tried to finish it many times before, but either couldn't think of a good ending, or I didn't have time to get this done.

It's all up to you if you want me to put up an epilogue or not. If over three people say they want an epilogue, I will write one and update the fic quick, quick, quick.

I would really like you to review this fic; I wasn't too sure about the characters this time. Please review!