47.1 || Freedom

Any more insistent words I might have uttered are stolen from me the moment my feet leave the ground. Clamping down on a breathless yelp, I wrap Fiesi's chest in the tightest grip I can muster, eyes scrunching closed. The air that rushes past my cheeks soon loses its heat, armed instead with chilling claws that scrape.

Fiesi feels bonier than I remember. Thin. My concern hums a jagged song, spilling shards within my insides, but I can hardly interrogate him while clinging on for dear life. My stomach performs somersaults. My body was ready to give in and embrace death's quiet; it isn't prepared for this much shock, this abundance of life, and it shows in the squirm of everything within. My heart pounds hard enough to crack an ache into my temples.

The wind's angle shifts, its rhythm settling along with my stomach. Swallowing the bitter sting at the back of my throat, I prise open a single, cautious eye.

Grey material flaps in my face, threadbare and ruffled wildly by the wind. A garish mix of blood-red and starry blue flame glints from beneath its numerous tears, layered over Fiesi's skin like a second set of clothing. Brash heat sweeps over my nose, battling the air's scattered chill in a disorientating frenzy, but somehow I find the courage to twist my head, curls flying in a myriad of directions, and snatch a glimpse of the sky.

The expanse around me rolls in frothing, sea-spray waves. Biting droplets come from all directions, stinging my cheeks and soaking into my clothes to gnaw at the skin beneath. A shiver throttles me, rattling from the tips of my toes all the way up my spine, and I squeak out a gasp, fists curling into the back of Fiesi's shirt. I can already feel my fingers going numb, and my heart flails at the thought of losing my grip. The writhing wind at my back and its hollow howl in my ears promises a long, long way to fall.

In response, his arms around me tighten. His hold is sturdy, still and sure like a fraction of deeper, fiery strength, despite the wild flurry of his flames. When I tilt my head to catch a glimpse of his face, there's a stiffness to his smile I can't quite adapt to. The stoic gleam in his eyes prickles at me with unease, despite the reassurance it aims to provide.

"It's alright," he calls over the wind, words shredded into barely audible scraps. "I've got you."

His wings beat, pedalling hot gusts into the air that sweep past me and singe the tips of my hair. That hot-and-cold feeling is a tingle all over my body by now. My teeth chatter as sweat slickens my trembling hands. It's awful, but I hate more the costly heroism I see moulded onto Fiesi's face like a mask, pushed and poked into every nook and cranny but crumbling at the edges. Fear unfurls in the pit of my stomach.

Something is very wrong.

Heat bubbles up around my fingertips. It begins small, the firelit flush of Tía skin, but quickly surges into a searing inferno. Tears well in my eyes as the pain saws at my nerves, until I can barely tolerate it despite the relief my own flame fights to provide.

My grip is sliding. More of my weight rests on the shaky safety of Fiesi's arms. My tongue wraps itself in quivering loops as I search for words, complaint, alarm.

"Fiesi," I shove out eventually, stuttering through his name. "You're burning."

He shoots me a grin. His gaze is unfocused, hazy, reflecting the misty impression of the clouds around us. "Yeah, that'll be the fire."

The wind yanks a wall of black curls in front of my eyes, stealing my view of him, but my panic isn't as easily swept away. "We should land."

"We're fine." His voice soars into that last word, stretching it out a beat too long perhaps in some vague attempt at humour. His laugh drifts away upon the breeze.

"Fiesi," I plead, but he doesn't reply.

The silence is anything but. Gales howl and spin, whirlpools in my ears. His fire roars a din. My own flame whimpers, too small to fight his ever-increasing burn, but still I feel like I'm trapped in a desperate quiet, counting my snatched-at breaths, waiting for him to say something more. So much has occurred in the time I've been caught in the smothering folds of the past, detached from the world. I've caught only brief glimpses of his suffering and can't guess the full extent of it. My fault or not, it was my hand that left him in this state. My choices caused this. Shaula may be the true evil in both our lives, but I remain the reason he was driven to take on so much.

How easy it would be for him to simply let go, to let me fall, but he only grasps me tighter. The pressing touch of his forearms singes my clothes.

"I've got you," he repeats, a soft murmur that draws me tense -- and just in time. I barely have a chance to gasp before his wings flatten in sharp crescents against his back, and we plummet.

The air sprouts knives. My scream is scraped from my jaw, torn to pieces along with everything in my lungs. My stomach drops violently, left behind somewhere in the empty air, until all I know is the stiff pain of falling and the cracking, half-thawed ice in my heavy bones. A sharp throb pierces my skull and rattles inward. The clouds part in a rush, dragging away the cold and damp, and land shunts into view.

Frosty green hills roll in low-lying waves, dipping in a vast assortment of angles that makes the entire landscape appear like a faded, crinkled blanket. Tiny blots of houses litter one slope, clustered together in a dark mass that grows larger and more intricate by the second as the ground looms closer and closer. My heart feels like it beats in my throat, a thundering, erratic storm knocked far out of rhythm, swelling my fear until it flutters like a tide of insects and their sticky webs within my chest. I know Fiesi wouldn't kill us both -- I have to know that, have to trust him -- but rational thought slips in liquid form through my fingertips. All my mind screams, over and over, is that I will die. I will shatter like a dropped glass on those hills. My bones shiver in knowledge that they will soon be broken.

An ache gathers quickly in my lungs, pressed in tight. Black spots scatter before my eyes. Panic is thick in my chilled blood.

I've died enough times already. I want to keep this life.

I fumble for Fiesi's name, but I haven't the breath spare to shout it, and shock snatches it seconds later regardless. The security of his arms slides away.

I learn quickly that Fiesi's arrow point descent is very different to true freefall. The wind grabs at my clothes, yanks my cloak up over my head, wrestles my limbs out in tangling directions until I'm tumbling as the air's limp, puppeteered plaything. My gasps yield nothing. My vision is too streaked with blur and specks of darkness to reveal where Fiesi has gone. All I can do is kick and claw at the sky's unceasing cruelty, flipping until I find myself staring at the bright blue sky and the smouldering clouds I've left behind.

I wonder if my spine or my neck will be the first to break. Maybe I'll snap all at once, fragments within the instant. If it's quick, will it still hurt?

Hands close around my chest again.

It takes me a long, whirling moment to realise the soft warmth enveloping me is Fiesi, at my back his time, taking the brunt of the wind's force so that I find the strength to suck in a shaky lungful of air. My head rests on his shoulder. The flyaway ends of his hair tickle my cheek. His breathing is laboured, steady, safe.

Bolder blue closes in, sealing out the clouds' white. His wings. They wrap tight, scalding and firm, feathers dusting my skin as azure embers light up the cocoon.

The flames sputter. Feathers drift. Tiny holes rip themselves into the wings, exposing hollow, brittle scraps of firelit bone.

Fiesi murmurs something, but I can't make it out.

His embrace squeezes, cutting away what little air I've gained. Heat cuts dinges into my flesh. This is what it feels to be a falling star, descending, soon to crash. I brace myself, insides coiled as a spring.

Cushioning as the swarming fire and Fiesi's chest is, I still feel the moment we hit the ground. It spikes right up my spine, lightning rods through every nerve, dragging long and fierce as agony folds in swiftly. My flame blazes, fresh panic jolting my core. I open my mouth to gasp but feel no air glide in. It's empty. Aches sprawl, claiming my lungs and back and skull. We're still moving, somehow, still falling, juddering to a slow halt as the world tilts in strange, meaningless patterns. Maybe the ground broke instead of my bones.

It flickers, and black claws steal me away.

When I next feel air enter my lungs, shaped as a cold, pointed spike, my eyelids are heavy. I force them open regardless, chest heaving in an irregular pattern. Hot sweat clings to my skin, burning my throbbing shoulders and thick lines across my stomach. Fiesi's hands. I swat blindly at his grip, find it limp, and tear myself free.

Dirt crumbles beneath my feet, and I tumble unceremoniously into dry, scorched mud. My vision wheels, dizzying. Patting vaguely at the ground, I push myself up, squinting through the haze of muggy colour, fighting to cling to consciousness and make sense of where I've found myself.

The sky spins above. It's far, far away, so far it seizes my throat to think I was among those clouds only moments ago, and dimmer. Much dimmer. I can't see the sun.

I blink hard, scrubbing at my eyes. Perhaps more than moments have passed. How long was I unconscious?

The pattern time weaves has become so strange of late that I couldn't calculate the fraction of the day I've lost if I tried. Figuring out where I am is a more achievable goal. Jaw clenched, I stagger to my feet, arms thrown out for balance as my toes curl into warm mud.

Distant pain slithers the length of my calves and lance to my shoulder blades, soothed in jittery waves by the violet flames that tickle my skin. I drag a lick or two to my palm, wind the fire around my wrist, gently toying with it to calm my shaken nerves as I take in my surroundings. Exposed dirt cascades from all sides, burying me in a shallow trench, dragged deepest at the place where I stand. A few ruined blades of grass droop from the sloped ledge above, black and withered. Scorch marks are everywhere, slashed like the marks of hot, molten claws that litter the ground with the sparse wink of embers. It all radiates a thin layer of heat, fading but still plenty enough to chase away the twilight breeze.

Slumped against one side of this torn-out hole, the epicentre of the fire's marks of destruction, is Fiesi. When I look closer, I can make out the faint outline of outspread wings etched into the charred mud either side of him, though the wings themselves are nowhere to be seen. He's, more or less, back to normal. His ears have regained their ordinary human curve and the feathers mixed in with his hair have vanished. Even his flame shies within, unseen. He doesn't move.

Writhing concern balls quickly into a tight, fisted panic, lodged in my stomach. I dash forward, grabbing at his shoulders to shake them. "Fiesi? Fiesi!"

I receive no response. Limp, he slips sideways under the forced motion, and I scramble to get my arms around him, knees hitting the ground hard as I try to ease him down. My hands clutch helplessly at his collar, fingers fisting his shirt as I lean over him. His name rises to my lips again, my voice's volume fading to a wispy echo as my faith evaporates. His eyelids don't so much as twitch. His expression remains as it is, scrunched into a vague grimace, draped with the loose folds of deep, unfaltering sleep.

It's difficult to tell whether the greyish hue to his skin is a result of the evening's gloom or not, but he's certainly pale. Sweat plasters the uneven strands of hair strewn across his eyes to his forehead. I brush them back without any real intention, heart in my throat.

I need him to wake up, but the minutes tick by in lonely silence. My teeth dig hard into my tongue. He can't be gone.

"This is all my fault." Guilt bitters the words, scratching them out, but they come. The quiet gives me the freedom to say them. Tears sting my eyes, and I press my forehead to his, a shudder worming its way through my bones until a sob chokes out. "I'm sorry. I'm so..." I sniffle, squeezing my eyes shut. My exhale comes out shaky. "I'm sorry. Will you not scold me for saying it?"

The trailing, unanswered end to my question is painful. It's sandpaper scrubbing my arms, cotton in my ears, water poured into my lungs until I feel like I'm suffocating. I don't know what to do. I never know what to do, do I? I know how to fight and I know how to die, but even after all this time and all I've learned, I can't fix someone else's hurt.

I wish I'd died like I planned.

"No," I hiss. No, I will not let myself think that, not again. That fixes nothing. If nothing else, I vow to Fiesi, wordless but firm, that I will not break. He didn't expend so much to save me just for me to give up again.

Swiping my hand over my eyes, I thrust myself back onto my heels, then shove to my feet, tearing my gaze from him to track the loose, cloudy lines of the darkening sky. "I'll get help," I tell him. It's a feeble, fidgeting promise, full of doubt, but I hold it firm. I will not drown in my tears nor wallow in my own failures; they lie behind me, and it's not what Fiesi would want. He knows my own hands can't heal. So I need to find someone who can.

The thought is a string dancing on the wind: aimless, difficult to catch, but it leads somewhere. It has to. I grasp hold of it with all the strength I have left and use it as my rope to clamber free from the singed crater left in the fire's wake.

My feet skitter and slide on loose cascades of soil. Dirt wrestles underneath my fingernails and sticks to the pads of my fingers, impossible to anchor myself in, but eventually I claw a path to the surface and collapse, an ungainly flop onto my stomach while my legs still scramble. I roll over, panting. My gaze slips to the side to capture Fiesi again. It's surprisingly difficult to poetically compare him to a fallen star; though he lies splayed amid a magically-torn crater of his own making, his glowing eyes are sealed away, leaving behind the boyish form of a man toppled from grace and clinging barely to life. The limp grey rags that hang from him are ripped in so many places they barely represent clothes.

A lump rises in my throat, hard to swallow. "I'll be back," I promise, then stand once again and start walking.

I'm grateful that some sliver of daylight remains, trickling over the hilltops and sharply outlining the horizon in ember-strewn shades, freeing me from a fate of wandering aimlessly in pitch darkness -- for the time being, at least. A lost feeling flutters in my stomach regardless. I throw needless glances over each shoulder every few seconds, steps light and skittish, rubbing at my arms as the chill steadily sets in. My breath plumes before me. My flame flickers in my core, thawing the worst of the frost, but cold discomfort trails my skin like the winding route of a fingernail. I shiver, teeth gritted to stop them from chattering.

Long grass tickles my feet and tangles around my ankles, dragging my pace into a stumble. The ground slopes broadly upward. I pause, in part to catch my breath, and cast a wide, surveying glance.

Immense gratitude floods through me, sagging my shoulders as a faint smile flickers to my lips. Blocky silhouettes blot out short stretches of light in the distance. A town.

Lo Dasi, I decide as my pace quickens, pushing through the panting rasp to my breath and the growing ache in my calves. It has to be. That's where Fiesi promised to take us. Our crash-landing drove us a little short, but he was set on seeing that promise through. I didn't see it in his eyes when he made it, but I did when we flew, and I did at the point he chose to dive. He wanted me safe. He was prepared to do anything, and in that moment, fear was nothing.

My heart twinges, twisted by thoughts I keep strangled within a maze of thorny vines. I'll do the same for him. I'd do it twice over if I could.

Shoving off the slope, I break into a sprint.

───── ⋆⋅♛⋅⋆ ─────

I wrote this chapter in lots of small, sporadic bursts amid the business of the start of uni, so if this part and the next feel a little scattered in flow n stuff, that's why. It probably fits though. Nathan's thoughts are kinda mixed and confused rn.

Fiesi did not have to be so extra in crashing to earth but I'm glad he was. Is he still alive? Idk maybe :iminnocent:

- Pup

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