Edita raises an eyebrow. She appears unfazed by the threat, although I'm sure I catch the slightest hitch in her confidence, the tiniest falter that shrinks her smile and rests her hand on her hilt. She doesn't draw her blade, however. It's a relief. I doubt I could fend her off if she chose to return my attack.

"If you insist," she says. "It is your life we are on a timer to save, after all."

I tighten my grip on my hilt, determined not to falter. Answers first. I'm not so desperate that I can't dedicate time to caution. "What are you?"

She blinks. "Human." Her hand lifts, tipping as she studies it. Her nails are so long that they might be considered claws. "I think."

A twitch of my sword yanks her attention back to me. "You know that's not what I mean." My heart pounds, pumping spiky heat into my veins that jars uncomfortably with the icy whisper of fear. "You're dead." My tongue stumbles over the statement, but I push it out regardless, keeping the words flowing. "I killed you. I've relived it over and over in my dreams. How are you here?"

"Ah." She runs her hand through her threads of hair, some air of sadness drooping her frown. "That is the true mystery, is it not?" She sighs. "Truth be told, Noli, I really do not know."

"You're lying." Something in my core twists painfully, a strange mix of confusion and wrongness and the endless thrum of longing's pain. My sword's tip crinkles her shirt. "You even know my name. Noli. You shouldn't know that name."

"I was surprised about that, too. It simply... came to me." Edita meets my gaze. It's so difficult to read the emotion in her flooded eyes, though some part of me wants to believe I can see honesty. "Is it a problem that I use it?"

I run my tongue over my lips. There isn't a clear answer to that question. Each name carries a different heaviness; indecision waves their weights from day to day, dancing them above and below one another until I feel cracked into two halves. I shake aside the feeling. "That's not the point. Answer me."

Deep thought draws her expression inward. "My memory is hazy, but I will try." She studies the blade of my sword as if her words are scratched upon its metal surface, nearly impossible to read as she stumbles through them. "I barely recall the sensation of your flame. All I remember is... blackness, I suppose. Her hand drops to her side, her white hair tie clutched in it. Her hair falls limply to her shoulders. "When I awoke, the forest was empty, and I knew nothing but the desire to find you. So I searched. Now, I know all kinds of things, although without any sort of explanation." She smiles distantly. "Like a guiding little whisper in my ear."

My mind reels. Somewhere in its far reaches, I recall the notion Izar spoke of. My father revived my mother by diving into the flame's forbidden arts. Did I somehow draw upon the same power, without meaning to? All I've ever known my flame to crave is death, and yet it's the only plausible explanation I can uncover, strange as I find it. Am I truly capable of bringing back the dead?

My cuffs seem to pinch tighter around my wrists, and I draw in a steadying breath, another pang of desire rippling through my chest. Although this one tastes different. I can't help but wonder what I might have been if I knew how to save lives rather than taking them.

I think of the fear in Fiesi's eyes, the darkness in his tone. Still the image persists.

"Does that satisfy?" Edita prompts, staring pointedly at my sword.

Jolting myself back to the present, I try to reorder my thoughts. "I... I guess it makes sense. But..." The wrongness twists in my gut again. "You hated me. You wanted me dead. Why would you now seek to save me?"

She laughs, a soft, low chuckle cradled close for her own amusement rather than mine. "You killed Oswin. Right." She looks at me properly, and I'm sure I catch the faintest twinkle in her eye, a pinprick of the sun's feeble rays reflecting from just the right spot. "It feels like an age ago now. I suppose dying does tend to shift perspective."

"So you..." I trail off, not exactly sure what I'm asking. Perspective isn't the only thing that seems to have shifted for her. If not for voice and appearance and the occasional familiar crease of a frown, I might not have recognised her as Edita at all.

"I do not hate you, no," she finishes, guessing at the question's end. Her smile evens out. "I think I understand you a little better now. You can trust me, Noli."

Trust. My heart thrums, unsettled. I search for some incline in her expression, some darkened shimmer of a lie, yet draw a blank. The sword is getting heavier. Perhaps she senses it, for she taps at the edge of its blade. "You have no need to be afraid of me."

Hesitance squeezes the action, but I lower the sword, offering her a stiff nod. "Okay." My throat is painfully dry as I swallow. There's so much to take in. Much as I'm confident they should keep away from me until this task is done, I wish I had Sarielle or Fiesi to confide in at this moment, if only for some element of certainty. They would know what to do. Now I'm alone to make the choice, I feel impossibly small in the face of it all. The alley is all of a sudden a crevice amongst mountains.

The ground seems to slant as I force another nod. "Let's--"

My voice cuts off sharply as Edita's eyes shoot wide. "Noli!"

The urgency in her tone sinks in far too late. All I can do is tense before a hand grabs my arm, flinging me into the wall behind. The panels shudder as my shoulders bang into them. Dazed, I wriggle free, thrusting my sword upward, though it meets another immediately. My grip is far too slippery; the blade is twisted from my hands, its clatter as it hits the path rattling in my ears before I've had chance to fully register it.

Panic claws through my lungs, pounding in my head, my thoughts woolly. I blink, squinting at the figure that bears down on me.

Rich, dark skin. Cloak as white as snow. Long black locks pooled atop it like ink stains.

A gasp tears free. "Rovena?"

Her broadsword falters in front of my chest. The focused anger drains from her expression, settling into confusion. "Nathaniel?"

Movement flashes in the corner of my eye. Still breathless, I duck under Rovena's sword, thrusting myself between her and Edita. My hands tremble as I hold them up placatingly. Edita's eyes are narrowed, her broken blade only just falling away in time to avoid driving right through my outstretched palm.

Challenge accents her gaze as she stares me down, questioning. I do my best to stand my ground. "Don't hurt her. I... I know her."

From behind, Rovena gives a nervous chuckle. "This isn't your girl, is it?"

After checking to see that Edita's blade drops safely to her side, I whirl. "No." Carefully, I step back, glancing between them. "Edita, this is Rovena. She helped me escape Neyaibet, once. Rovena, this is..." I falter, scanning over Edita, acutely aware of the black flame spread across her sclera. There'll be no pretending that she's anything ordinary. "A friend," I finish awkwardly.

"Huh." Rovena blinks, then gives her head a shake. "I'm not sure I want to ask." Her attention flick back to me. "Sorry for attacking. This town has been overrun with Neyaibet soldiers of late. Call me paranoid."

Despite the apology, I can feel her studying me, her eyes trailing the contours of my black tunic before landing on my binds. The slightest frown draws her brow inward. Wincing, I pull my arms to my sides, twitching my hands a little behind my back. "It's alright. I know."

She hums darkly, tossing a wary glance over her shoulder. Her sword lifts. Her other hand sweeps in the direction of the alley's opening. "It isn't safe for you to be here. I'll get you out."

Hesitating, I look to Edita. She sheathes her sword decisively. "That is what I have been trying to do. Go on."

Rovena throws her another unnerved look, her nose scrunching. She blows out a breath. "I can't help it. Are you another..." She gestures vaguely in the shape of a flame. "You know. Magic fire? Killing touch?"

Edita smiles as if she's merely been questioned on the weather. "Oh, no. I wield no power." She hooks a thumb at me. "He did kill me once, though."

"Kill..." Rovena stares at her.

She shrugs, turning her blade over in her hand to examine it. "It was an accident, to be fair. I hold no grudge."

"It's complicated," I interject, drawing Rovena's baffled gaze to me. I scratch at the back of my neck. "I don't really know either. But she's helping me with..." I chew at my tongue. "A... problem."

"Right." The slightest edge of worry shapes Rovena's frown. "I hope you know what you're doing, Nathaniel."

"I don't," I admit. "But I'll figure it out."

"We will indeed." Edita gives my shoulder a firm pat, sending a jolt of surprise rippling through me. She thrusts my sword into my hand. "Are we leaving, then? I have spilled a little too much blood today for my liking."

For a second, Rovena looks as if she might say more, but her lips close over nothing. She nods, shifting her cloak. "Of course," she says on a sigh, waving her hand again. "Stick close to me."

She pauses before stepping out into the street beyond, and I hurry to do as she says, dropping in less than a pace behind her and a little to the side. The path ahead remains deserted, though I'm sure I catch sight of a curtain twitching in a nearby window, and a shadow quickly darting out of sight. A cold lump plunges into my stomach, sick with guilt. My sword feels like a torch amongst darkened fog. This is Akurin, close to the border or not. Weapons and wars do not belong here. It is my fault that Neyaibet ventured this far in the first place, and my fault that they stay, tainting peaceful streets with their symbol and their blood.

Perhaps Rovena senses it too, for her stride quickens, forcing me nearly into a jog in order to keep up with her long legs. Only once we round a corner into a wider street does she speak again. "Dare I ask how the search is going?"

Pride floods suddenly into my chest, momentarily drowning out all else. "Yes. I found her."

I can't help the instinctive smile that rises at the prospect. It's not difficult to recall Rovena's doubt, the way she warned me against building too much hope. It's somewhat satisfying now to prove her wrong.

She raises an eyebrow, a grin of her own slanting her lips. "Oh?"

The rest of the memory trickles in, and my cheeks warm. "Her name is Sarielle Diraldi."

"Diraldi?" She chuckles. "My word. You've practically got yourself a princess." She drops back a touch, nudging my shoulder, a teasing glint in her eye. "So? Did you kiss her?"

A chill washes upwards from my heart, clashing with the heat in my skin. "Yes." The word tastes dirty in my mouth, bitter with regret, the intrigued light in Rovena's eyes only deepening my shame. "But I... I made a mistake. It was stupid."

"How so?"

I twist my head to the side. "She already has someone."

"Ah." Rovena exhales, checking the path ahead with another glance before her hand lands on my shoulder. I try not to stiffen. "The drama of youth," she murmurs, lips quirking in a gentle smile. "You'll be alright."

I nod, though I bite at my lip, my chest aching. Perhaps it's a cruel act of fate that such a stupid action should end up being the reason I was separated from Sarielle, the reason I was captured. And now I find myself fleeing her as much as anyone else. A sudden, violent pang of longing cuts into my surety, almost faltering my step.

How easy would it be for me to die before I see her again? Will my foolishness truly be her lasting memory of me?

Something within me twists, slipping in the second memory I have of yesterday, of her dying body cradled in my arms and her rosy skin split apart by abyssal cracks. I inhale sharply. At least she's safe. It could be worse. It can always be worse.

"Hey." Rovena's touch snaps me out of my thoughts, her hand sinking into my hair to ruffle it. I'm too stiff to pull away, and so she retracts it herself, her expression soft. "Did I send you into a little angst spiral?"

Despite the thoughts crowding my mind, a little laugh climbs free. "Sorry." The urge to tell her more, to put the whole scenario to her in search of advice, tingles at the edge of my tongue, yet the words seem too heavy to lift. Maybe I'm simply aware of Edita's gaze boring into my back, for I clear my throat instead. "So, uh, why are you in Kavas? I thought you were staying in Threlkeld."

Her focus wanders back to the street ahead, her sword swaying a little in her hand. "I tried to. Unfortunately, both Aiden and myself deemed it safest to evacuate in the end." She flashes a tight-lipped smile. "Apparently we can't take on a whole army by ourselves."

We turn a corner. The houses are thinning, their shapes becoming more squat and large. Through the gaps between them, I catch sight of the rolling hills, the cast in darkness in the shade of the towering mountains beyond them. Their tops are starkly white. Snow. The tiny spark of delight that rises is quickly dropped into the pit of guilt in my chest.

"I'm sorry I brought that upon you," I say to Rovena. "It isn't fair at all." My gaze wanders back in the direction of Kavas's centre, the fearful faces in windows we've now left behind, and I pick at the trapped end of my glove. The material pinches my fingers as I tug at it. "All that seems to follow in my wake is destruction and fear."

She grabs my arm, yanking me to a halt. I whirl on her to find a fierceness in her expression. I tense, but there's no anger in her voice, stern as it is. "This is Neyaibet's doing," she says. "Not yours. I won't have you feeling guilty just for existing."

A sorry balances on my tongue, but I swallow it and merely nod. Her sharp gaze warns against it.

She studies me for a moment longer, then sighs, looking off to the side. "I feel there's a lot more questions I should ask, but I can't keep you any longer." She jabs a finger in the direction of the mountains. "I don't know where you plan on heading, but it should be easy enough to lose anyone who tries to follow in the hills."

"Thank you." I pause, my feet rooted to the ground. I do so desperately want to tell her everything. "I... I hope we see each other again."

She chuckles. "Perhaps not in another situation like this, but yes." Her gaze flicks to my hands again. "Maybe one day, I'll fully understand what you are."

"Maybe." My bind knocks against my hilt as I adjust my grip on it. That is perhaps one subject I fear explaining to her, and yet at this moment, I'd rather detail every fragment of my story if it meant I could stay just a bit longer. The second I step outside of this town and follow Edita, I'll truly have sealed my choice. My quest will be my life, and my journey an utter plunge into the unknown once more.

Maybe I've gotten too used to the security of friends to cling to. I don't feel ready.

"I found the king, too," I say, if only for something to delay a goodbye. It was the task she trusted to me, after all. "And the queen and prince. And Reuben, the advisor."

Surprise filters into a sparkling pride in her eyes that thaws a little of the uncertainty frosting around my heart. "You are a little hero, aren't you?"

"I--I didn't do much," I say quickly. "Sarielle found them, really. She's making sure they're safe." The feeling of her name on my tongue sends another skip of lightning racing through my veins, healing the cracks in my resolve. I pull my shoulders back. "Rovena, could you do something for me?"

She frowns. "Alright."

"If Sarielle comes here, looking for me..." The words are suddenly hard to find, scrambled amongst my thoughts, though they flow into something mostly coherent as they emerge. "Tell her I'm okay. Tell her that I'm going to stay alive, whatever it takes, and I'm doing it for her. And tell her that... that I'll find her again. I'll be stronger when I find her again." I draw in a breath, so overly aware of Rovena listening to it all, but determined to ensure I say what I need to before I lose the chance. "And... and tell her I'm sorry," I add, a lump growing in my throat. "For the kiss. And... everything, I suppose."

Rovena exhales, and my mouth snaps shut. I'm half-afraid she plans to dismiss me, or to mock my foolish whims, my obsession with a girl I've only ever been a burden to. But then she crouches down, clasping my hand and squeezing it with both of hers. "I will," she says, and there's clear sincerity in her tone. Her smile is warm, though there's a sadness to it. "You better mean that, too. I won't hear of you dying."

The last of the frost melts away, and I nod. Confidence spills into my chest enough to tug the corners of my mouth upward. "I'll do my best."

"Noli," Edita calls from behind, tone dark with impatience.

The moment shatters. Rovena straightens, releasing my hand. "Don't do anything reckless, Nathaniel." She concedes a tilt of her head. "Well. Not anything overly reckless, at least. Be good." She pauses, then lets her smile come back in full. "See you another day?"

Nodding, I take a careful backward step. "Another day."

I watch her just long enough to see her raise her sword, attention slipping away from me and back to her own caution, before I turn away and break into a short run to catch up to Edita. She's already free of the town and doesn't attempt to slow to wait. Still, she elbows my arm as I slip in at her side. "You kissed a girl, huh?"

I dodge her gaze, glaring off into the distance. "I wasn't talking to you." My skin prickles with cold discomfort at the thought of her knowing.

"But I heard." She laughs. "What? I find it cute."

"It wasn't--" My free hand curls into a fist. "Stop it."

The titter of her continued laughter finds my ears regardless. It's gentle, not truly harsh. "Look at us. We are bonding already." The sound trails off into a hum. "No reason to mistrust me if we are friends, see?"

I toss a glance over my shoulder. Kavas is already growing smaller, the dirt path at our feet trailing away into barely trodden undergrowth. Rovena is gone from sight. "I guess," I murmur, though my focus has drifted far from Edita.

I'll be back, I whisper in my head, clinging tight to the sunny memories I have of Sarielle, of her belief in hope, her unwillingness to give up. I won't stop trying.

No matter how she feels about me, whether she hates me or loves me or anything in between, I have to do this for her.

───── ⋆⋅♛⋅⋆ ─────

Honestly, Edita cracks me up. She's a vibe and I enjoy her much more than I should. Dying apparently made her cool.

I also had fun bringing Rovena back!! She had to get an update on her favourite lovesick death boy, of course. Her advice didn't really pay off in the end but hey, she's best girl anyway.

Oh and Nathan is a simp. He's funny. Please mock him.

- Pup