CH. IV     ✷     The Die Has Been Set

         EZRA had always appeared best in the gentle waves of moonlight. Its touch enhanced the glow on his dark skin and made his eyes softer. Kyrah often found her eyes tracing the contours of his face in the night. It was a silent secret she would keep to the depths of her heart, in fear of his reaction, but Kyrah would like to say she knows Ezra by now.

Her understanding of that knowledge has brought her peace.

Yet at this very moment, rage writes itself all over his face. The sun, merciless as always, does not have any qualms about hiding it— it exposes every detail in full, inescapable light. All that remains are the dark shadows it casts in its wake, leaving nothing but the virtues of the immoral.

His jaw is locked tight, and his eyes are sharpened aflame. Kyrah wonders when it is Ezra will snap, but he has held out far longer than she thought he would.

Kyrah turns to Mattias's angered form. She misses some of the stuff he's saying.

"— this is not what we can risk our safety on," Mattias speaks deliberately and sharply, slowly putting emphasis on every word. His blue eyes cut to Ezra, who only stands with a deep, distasteful frown on his face.

Ezra clutches his nails into his bicep. He matches Mattias's anger head-on. "Then tell us exactly what we can risk our safety on," Ezra starts. Mattias rolls his eyes and huffs, refusing to look Ezra in the eyes. Ezra's faux placidity morphs into terrible rage. "Because it sure as hell is not running away like a bitch!"

A low, unbridled whistle comes from Kian on Kyrah's right. His fingers are pinched on the bridge of his nose, eyes closed shut. Adya is in front of him, kneeling on the ground, tending to the nasty gash on his forearm.

No one is sure whether that whistle is because of his pain or the rising conflict between Mattias and Ezra, but it flows into the wind weaving something dangerous in its aftermath.

Mattias runs a tired hand over his face. "You want us to stay and fight while there could be more of them out there?" He holds his anger back and looks down, his shoulders show no strength behind them as he collapses under the gravity of their situation.

Kyrah stands tall, holding her breath as she looks between the both of them. She wants to say it's not her fight and neither is it any of theirs, but the battle came to her and Kian's door first. Now, none of them are sure where to stand.

Her eyes cut to Mattias' wrathful, repressed form. Unlike Ezra, his glory does not shine best in the moon, but rather, under the infinite strength of the sun.

The light had never made a mockery of him. In fact, it was easier to say Mattias was the sun itself. He held the same brilliance when Kyrah first laid eyes on him: pure, eternal fire. It was that zeal, that intensity when he first showed himself that made him so trustworthy in Kyrah's eyes.

The fire, however, has started to consume him.

Kyrah watches the saturation of his blue eyes deplete as he takes a step closer to Ezra.

"Ezra, please," Mattias implores, exasperation hinging on his words. He extends a cautious hand out, only to let it fall back to his side when Ezra steps back from him. A heavy sigh leaves his lips. "Look, if we go now, the chances of encountering any of the people Kyrah and Kian saw are slim."

Ezra tilts his head in disapproval, his anger, though muted, still present as he closes the distance between him and Mattias. "Then what happens when we encounter them? Do we run again? And again? And again?"

"Dammit, Ezra," Mattias mutters under his breath. He runs his hands through his hair. "We will figure that out when we get to that part. Right now, this threat is imminent so we need to leave now. They know where we are."

"I'm not going anywhere," Ezra declares, low and decisive.

A painful silence falls over the group. No one is unsure of how to go about the situation.

Kyrah knows all of them are stubborn to an extent, some more than others. But to watch Ezra and Mattias go against each other like this with no one to stop them will only fuel the fire even brighter.

She begins to open her mouth to speak, but Imogen knows her intention and seizes her wrist. Kyrah turns to Imogen, eyes wide in confusion as she subtly nods toward Ezra and Mattias so she can intervene. But Imogen, remains as she is, her eyes and focus lingering on the drama in front of them.

Imogen silently mouths, Not yet. She calmly unwinds her fingers from Kyrah's wrist, her eyes still calculated as she stares down the two men in front of her.

Kyrah finds herself briefly missing the warmth of her touch before turning her head away from Imogen. She folds her arm against her chest, wondering to see why Imogen held her back from speaking up.

Confusion laces itself all over her face as analyzes Mattias and Ezra's behavior. She bites her bottom lip as her nails clutch deep into her skin. They're both angry, Kyrah knows for certain. But at each other or the situation itself? She's not quite sure.

Ezra begins to casually pace in circles, something Kyrah has been able to identify as one of his frequent habits. His hands are strung on his waist as he speaks.

"I just don't get you sometimes," He turns to Mattias again, index finger pointed accusatory out at him, "You were willing to kill everyone that went against us because you and I both knew that our safety came first! So, why the hell do you want to run now?"

"Because we don't know what they're capable of!" Mattias yells at him. Kyrah's absolutely certain, the anger in his voice cut through the entire forest. He continues, "How did they know what we were? Do you know what we are, Ezra? Do you?"

Ezra laughs.

Kyrah knows he's at his limit. There have been many times where Ezra has laughed, but very few times his laugh was full of rage, dry and unamused.

That's exactly what Imogen was warning her of... stepping in before they've actually managed to get to that breaking point, otherwise that anger of theirs isn't going anywhere.

"Pretty, poster boy of violence doesn't want to stain his hands with more blood," Ezra barks out. He stares down Mattias with a critical eye, refusing to let a single motion of Mattias out of his sight. His voice, a venomous calm, taunts, "Is that what it is? Guilt starting to catch on already?"

Mattias' eye twitches, an involuntary reaction to Ezra's raw accuracy. He can't refute any of the accusations thrown at him, and the acknowledgment of that fact only acts as a reopened wound.

"Maybe," Mattias replies, his voice bearing the burden of contemplation. "Maybe not. But this is not about me; it's about every single one of our safeties being put under threat."

"Then stop arguing with me, and let's agree on killing them all!" Ezra's voice nearing a shout, as his patience runs thinner than it already has.

"Like I said before, we have no clue what they are capable of," Mattias sighs. He turns around, no longer wanting to face Ezra's angered face any longer. His head leans up towards the sun, hiding the etched glory of his face away from everyone else.

Ezra groans tiredly. "No, we do not," he chides. His eyes, raging through the emotions, watch Mattias carefully before clenching his jaw and tapping his foot against the ground. "But what I do know is you being a pain in my—"

A flying, hard punch lands on Ezra's jaw, brutally cutting the rest of his sentence off.

Kyrah's eyes widen in shock. Her eyes flicker to the drops of blood painting the grass before gazing up to see Ezra's calmly measured face.

"Why would you do that?" Kyrah yells.

But, her shout of confusion falls on deaf ears as Ezra runs a thumb over his busted lip, carefully observing the blood pooling on his finger.

Mattias opens his mouth to speak, but his eyes are trained on Ezra's bruised lips only. Regret floods within him as he glances down at his closed fist, now coated with Ezra's blood.

It should not have been this way.

Yet, anger rests for no day— spares no one.

Ezra and Mattias lock eyes. In that fleeting moment, it is everything and nothing at the same time. It is months of unspoken words, feelings, and understanding for one another. But it is also years of spoken hatred, despair, and rage for the world they have been confined to live in.

The first punch from Ezra lands on Mattias. He remains oblivious to the moment Ezra hastily closes that gap between them, but Mattias pays the swiftness no mind and matches another blow on Ezra, quickly rushing to frustrate all his anger through pointless violence.

But, Mattias supposes that's all there has ever been in his life.

Violence.

From the moment he was born, to where he is now. There is no escape from the harrowing cycle, therefore he owes it better to himself to act on that instinct rather than ignore it. But, it feels wrong.

It feels wrong because it's Ezra that he's retaliating his anger on.

There's a cacophony of loud voices surrounding the two of them. It surrounds him like a blur, but there is a focal point in the midst of all the chaos, and it is Ezra's voice drowning the others out completely.

"Fight back, Mattias!" Ezra shouts. There's blood cascading from his forehead down to Mattias' face. He's gripping Mattias' shoulders harshly, pulling him back to finish what he's started, "Come on!"

But, Mattias can't.

He won't.

That line between wrath and suffering has now been blurred and has only left crimson banners in their wake.

Perhaps they will make a vigil out of it.

Imogen pulls Ezra off of Mattias with impressive strength, while Esmeralda steps in front of Mattias holding out a hand for him to accept.

Mattias takes her hand and pulls himself up without a groan.

Kyrah stands as she has. From her peripheral vision, she sees from her right, Kian and Adya, both of whom are looking anywhere but at the commotion in front of them.

Kyrah supposes she can't blame them.

She narrows her eyes and levels them to Ezra's bloodied fist. A dissatisfied frown lingers on her face. She's not exactly angry, but not quite happy either at the situation.

And, when she looks at Mattias, bloody and regretful, her frown deepens on her skin.

"I'm—" Mattias speaks in a raspy voice.

Kyrah holds a hand up, silencing him from speaking. She focuses her eyes on Imogen, gesturing between Ezra and Mattias with a lazy hand.

"This is what you were waiting for, wasn't it?"

Imogen levels Kyrah over with a surprised look before catching and collecting herself. She regards Kyrah with a careful tone, "No, but if the ends justify the means, what exactly is the issue?"

Kyrah tilts her head. "Since when have the ends ever justified anything?"

Imogen smiles.

There is a hint of darkness that lingers behind her eyes. She doesn't explain her stance on the situation any further and allows the atmosphere to remain quiet after Kyrah's words.

The silence is uncomfortable and overbearing. It permeates the air longer than it should.

Whatever topic Imogen has brushed, it is something that has yet to be touched between them. For now.

Esmeralda frowns. She tilts her head forward, locking eyes with Imogen who only shrugs.

"We need to settle this," Esmeralda sighs. She pinches the foreskin between her eyebrows before letting go. "I had hoped the vote we settled earlier would be sufficient for us to make a decision."

She glares at both Ezra and Mattias harshly, "Apparently not."

Mattias has at least the decency to look ashamed.

"I think we should go," Imogen steps forward. "Even to this day, we have no idea what the prophecy even means. What if there is something out there that can kill us?"

She turns around to face Ezra. "We have encountered other humans before and not once have they ever mentioned what we were unless they received some kind of godly intervention."

For the first time, Kian speaks up. His eyes only meet the ground. "And how are we supposed to know he did not receive some godly intervention as he ran into me and Kyrah?"

"Everything inside me wants to leave, but Ezra is right. How long are we going to keep running from everyone who poses a threat?" He looks up, eyes lingering on Kyrah's own before facing Imogen and Ezra.

"It is not ideal. However, if we leave now, it is more guaranteed we have a plan to face whoever it is rather than just throwing ourselves at them, and then putting ourselves in an uncompromising situation," Esmeralda declares.

"I think we should leave as well," Adya tiredly voices. She plays with the ends of her hair, refusing to meet anyone's eyes. "We are already in a compromising situation. The least we can do is make the best out of it."

Esmeralda nods.

"And you, Kyrah?" Esmeralda questions. She turns her head, her loose braid following in the direction. "You have not said anything."

Kyrah lifts her head in surprise. She takes in Esmeralda waiting patiently for her response, and the rest of the group, some of whom, don't meet her eyes.

Anything she would answer would act as a betrayal to Ezra or Mattias.

So, she keeps her opinion to herself.

It would be better that way, Kyrah believes.

Esmeralda steps closer to Kyrah's direction. Her jawline tightens as she eyes Kyrah with subtle concern.

It's as if she knows Kyrah by now.

"I value your opinion. You know that," Esmeralda assures.

Kyrah shifts from one leg to another, refusing to look Esmeralda in the eye. Her hair cascades down the sides of her face, framing her peripheral view away from the rest of the environment.

The score has already been settled, no point in dwelling on it now.

"Why would it matter now?" Kyrah starts. Her voice comes out more broken than she'd like. "The majority of us have already decided we want to leave, so we might as well. I doubt my opinion would change anything."

Esmeralda holds Kyrah in her gaze for a minute too long before placing her hands on her waist and turning away.

"Very well," Esmeralda sighs. She exasperatedly runs a hand over her face. "We need to move now."

Kyrah begins to move, her feet taking hold of her before her mind does. She looks up at the sun, whose light has now diminished, no longer as bright as it was when Mattias and Ezra's anger raged loudly.

Perhaps that is the sun's mercy on her behalf as of this moment.

Kyrah continues walking, spotting her items near its marked post. She quickly grabs them, placing them in a large, carefully woven bag made by Adya.

Heaving the bag over her shoulder, Kyrah straightens herself. She begins to walk over to Esmeralda before observing Ezra remaining in the same spot he had been before.

"Ezra?" Kyrah calls out.

"I am not leaving," Ezra confesses.

He turns to Kyrah, taking note of her wide eyes and distraught face. A part of him nearly dies at the sight.

"We are leaving together," Kyrah cries. She runs to Ezra, frantically grasping at his forearms, "Please, I am begging you to come with us. You must!"

"No."

Kyrah backs away from him as if she has been burned.

In a way, she has.

She tilts her head, eyeing Ezra in shock. The two of them stare at each other in utter silence. Kyrah steps another foot away from him, assessing the seriousness behind his words.

"This is not the time to—"

"—Go, Kyrah," he cuts Kyrah off.

Ezra turns away, heading towards the viridescent expanse of the forest with slow, heavy steps.

More than she'd like, Kyrah immediately thinks of Kian's retreating form to the forest as well. How they had both allowed the darkness to consume them rather than confront it head-on.

She quickly glances at Kian behind her, who is already looking at her, somehow concluding on the same memory.

Kyrah, desperate to get Ezra's attention and convince him to stay, shouts at his retreating form. "We need to stick together, Ezra! Please do not do this!"

Ezra doesn't turn around, but he pauses his movements momentarily, "I will come back to you."

"And if you do not?" Kian interjects.

It is not a possibility any of them want to entertain.

Chills grow on Kyrah's arm at the thought.

Ezra responds, a tad bit too long after the silence has already skipped a beat, "So be it."

Kyrah's eyes widen at his words. She rushes to say something but Imogen's voice clears the area first.

"Is this really how you want to end this?"

Ezra pivots his head slowly to peer back at all of them. In the light, the aftermath of his face is decorated in dried blood and fresh bruises, each mark alluding to the vicious fight wielded by Mattias' hand.

Pain floods his eyes, conflicting with the stubbornness of his heart.

He looks over at all of them with one last, leveled measure, settling his eyes on Mattias far longer than the rest of them before turning away and setting foot into the forest.

Stubbornness.

Pride.

Sooner or later, Kyrah believes, will be the death of them.

She sits alone, next to the trunk of a tree. The rain is pouring down heavily as the night sky has now gathered its light.

Mattias is nowhere near any of them.

In a way, Kyrah doesn't blame him. The bruises Ezra left on him have gotten more visible over the hours. It only serves as a loud disturbance, shaped in the absence of their friend, Ezra.

From whatever gaps are left by the leaves of the tree, Kyrah lets the rain pour over her completely. The rain cascades down her head, trickling to her face, to the side of her arms, and her clothes.

She reminisces on the time her mother carried her in her mature arms. It was raining, pouring heavily, just as it was now. Kyrah's legs clung to the sides of her mother, Ara, careful not to fall and break her mother's hold on her.

She pointed at the sky with a tooth-gaping smile, full of childlike wonder.

Ara, smiling at her daughter's innocence, watches with tired eyes and creased smile lines. She leans in and presses her cheek to the side of Kyrah's face before leaning in to kiss her gently.

God's mercy to us, she answers Kyrah's silent curiosity.

Now Kyrah sits— this time she is no longer a child; this time whatever is left of her mother has already begun to decay in the soil; this time she knows no mercy— no God.

She is alone, and the rage has settled in the ache of her bones where innocence was once stripped.

Kyrah drags the palm of her hand over her forehead, resting it over her eyes, and for a minute she surrounds her vision with darkness. She feels herself slip into a state of slumber, and quickly, the desire for tiredness comes to her as eternal resting— a morgue to lay abide in. But, it is the rain against her skin that wakes her conscience once more, and rids her of such morbid thoughts.

She opens her eyes, half-lidded, staring down at soaked clothes.

Death will never come.

She supposes that is the best fate Ezra could possibly have.

After lying awake for longer than she hopes, Imogen opens her tent. It is Kyrah, her eyes immediately find in the dark, drenched and alone against the trunk of the tree.

"Kyrah?" Imogen calls, rushing to Kyrah's side.

Kyrah doesn't move. She stays to herself, arms wrapped against her knees as her head remains down in silence.

Imogen places a hand on her shoulder. Careful enough to get Kyrah's attention, but not too much it may aggravate her. She bends down, her eyes the same level as Kyrah's own.

"It's late," Imogen whispers. "Come inside at least."

Kyrah, not once, spares a glance Imogen's way.

She ignores Imogen's dotting concern. It did not seem to be present when Ezra and Mattias mostly needed it. Why now when the damage has been dealt?

"You should have let me intervene."

Imogen heaves a quiet breath in and promptly removes her hand from Kyrah's shoulder just as quickly as she places it.

Just as Kyrah expected.

"You should come—"

"No." Kyrah cuts her off. "If I had intervened, that fight would not have happened. Ezra..." her emotions nearly get the best of her before she conceals it, "Ezra would have been here."

"If." Imogen spits back at Kyrah. "Do you really want to place your trust in Ezra or Mattias' anger?"

"It hasn't failed me yet."

"It failed you today."

"Just as much as you did then."

Imogen does not frown at Kyrah's words. It hasn't affected her deeply because she knows that Kyrah knows what she can handle.

It's a low blow. A shallow cut. But, Imogen also knows Kyrah can cut much farther than she's willing to as of this moment. It is her way of telling Imogen to tread carefully.

She watches her carefully, how determined Kyrah is to not look her in the eyes.

Imogen slowly stands, hands placed over her stomach.

Kyrah bites her lip in frustration. "We should have stayed with him."

"Yes, we should have."

Kyrah bumps her head against the bark of the tree, repeating the motion a few more times against the silence. She looks up at Imogen. Her eyes are as dark as the circles under them.

"Do you think the ends justify the means now?"

"That wasn't the question you asked me earlier," Imogen replies.

"My question has changed."

"So has my answer."

"Of course it has." Kyrah laughs bitterly. She prods the side of her mouth with her tongue, turning her head away from Imogen. She mumbles to herself once more, "Of course it has."

She turns her head back to Imogen and takes one long look at her before standing up.

Imogen remains unfazed. She leans her head slightly to the side, appraising Kyrah with a look she quite can't decipher just yet. Love? Concern? Amusement? All of the above?

"What did you think you would get from talking with me?" Kyrah questions, hands nearly shaped into fists.

Imogen slowly eyes her surroundings, watching the rain pour on everything. She then gazes at Kyrah, unabashedly, observing that not a single crevice on Kyrah's body has the rain missed.

Imogen has never felt more jealous of rain.

Under Imogen's scrutinizing gaze, Kyrah finds herself unraveling her fists.

There is anger Kyrah has towards Imogen but it does not remain for long. Her anger is not righteous, and hardly reasonable. It will never last long because she knows deep inside that Imogen has never been her enemy.

She never will be.

But, she does not know what Imogen is to her — that line between them will continuously be blurred.

Imogen meets Kyrah in the eyes.

"I saw you in the rain," Imogen states. "I thought you may want some company."

Kyrah assessing Imogen, slightly furrows her eyebrows. Imogen has a calm persona, Kyrah can say for certain. Not once has she seen her lose her composure but that does not mean Kyrah cannot determine when she is lying. She peers deeply into Imogen, now beginning to see her squirm under her gaze.

Kyrah relents and sighs.

"No," she slightly frowns, "I did not."

Imogen is now taken aback. She blinks in response to Kyrah's words but manages to find herself quickly.

It is now Kyrah's turn to play unfazed.

"Right," Imogen voices, "Well, I am sorry. What I said earlier was not to upset you. But, you saw how stubborn they were, their anger was going nowhere."

After Kyrah pleads to Ezra and he still leaves, Kyrah does understand where Imogen is coming from. However, it did not have to be that way. Their anger did not have to get to that boiling point. But, Kyrah knows better than anyone that her anger will not stop because someone wishes it so.

It is that darkness her mind goes back to. The one that sentenced their death then signed their certificate of birth once again. A cruel joke, Kyrah admits. She wonders momentarily if there is purpose behind all of this.

Kyrah decides to remain curt and brush past Imogen by the shoulders. "I never asked you to apologize to me."

Imogen grabs Kyrah by the wrist, holding her close.

Kyrah feels her breath hitch. She leans in as Imogen caresses alongside her cheek, holding her as if she is something sacred, something valuable.

Kyrah allows herself to believe it is true just this once.

Her eyes flutter shut. Imogen's touch is frigid but slightly warm. And the longer Imogen touches her, the more likely she finds that she will be burning soon.

Their noses touch.

And Kyrah allows herself to want.

Imogen's lips brush against hers, hesitant and wanting. "But, I did anyway."

Kyrah tips her head forward. Her lips get so close to Imogen's lips, that they nearly connect to the point it almost feels like a kiss.

The corners of Kyrah's lips tilt upwards and she knows Imogen can feel it against her own.

She sighs into Imogen's lips, opening her eyes to look at Imogen. To see how desperately she wants her.

"You saw me in the rain," Kyrah sings against her lips. She cups her hand to the back of Imogen's neck, gently running her thumb against Imogen's jawline. "But, you did not want my company."

Imogen's eyes open in confusion, but Kyrah continues to hold her in a loving embrace. She does not look away from her, searching, slowly, as if she were to turn away from Imogen that she may just miss something.

"You couldn't sleep," she continues. "You came to me in hopes I would give you what you wanted."

Imogen parts her lips, ready to say something.

Sadly, Kyrah brings herself away from Imogen's embrace. She watches as Imogen looks at her appallingly, shocked as to why Kyrah would not return her desire at the moment.

And, so badly, does Kyrah want her.

But, she will not allow herself to want so much.

Not yet.

Imogen is a good liar. A very sweet liar.

In a way, Kyrah admires it. She owes it to herself to start lying more. Perhaps, if she does, she may be able to find peace within herself a little faster.

However, that game will not happen between them.

It is without doubt that Kyrah is certain Imogen is aware of her lie to Kyrah. But, Kyrah supposes it was not an entire lie. Although, it was not the full truth either.

Imogen knows Kyrah is not asking for an apology, so she will spare it this time. At least now, they are finally on the same page.

Kyrah steps away from Imogen.

"I cannot give you what you want. Good night, Imogen."

Kyrah turns away from Imogen slowly. She starts to pace herself towards her tent, beginning to get sick of the rain on her skin and clothes. The day has been far too long for her liking. When she wakes up, she will find herself again, eventually.

There is shuffling and movements from her far left. Kyrah turns, waiting to see what exactly it just may be.

It is Mattias.

He is disheveled and tired. At first, he does not see Kyrah, but then he looks up and stands in surprise. His clothes were torn as if he spent hours fighting a wild animal. The bruises on his face are still visible through the distance and darkness. Kyrah does him a mercy by not frowning at the sight of him.

"Kyrah..." he trails off as he steps closer to her line of vision. "Why are you still awake? You should be sleeping."

Kyrah nods, agreeing. "Funny. I could ask you that same question."

Mattias ignores her sarcasm and continues to walk forward with dejected shoulders. Right now, he looks like a shadow of himself but Kyrah knows Mattias is anything but that. He mumbles, "You already know why I am awake."

Kyrah steps directly in his path, ensuring he is not to walk past her.

"Kyrah, please—," he sighs.

"No."

"Please—"

"No."

The circles under Kyrah's eyes match Mattias' when she looks up at him. It is moments like this when she sometimes forgets the staggering height difference between her and Mattias.

Kyrah rids the tension off her chest carefully. She does not want Mattias to keep hiding himself. "It's the guilt. Is it not?"

Mattias breaks eye contact with her but remains standing. Kyrah takes it as a sign to continue.

"...I do not want you to hide yourself. You have spent all day and night, fighting and killing beasts out there. I have spent nearly half my night hoping the rain would absolve me of what had happened," she confesses.

"If you are angry at me, Kyrah, then be angry."

"I was. Not anymore. Does that make it harder for you to accept my words?"

"It was my fault." Mattias scowls and Kyrah can see all the troublesome burdens ridden behind his eyes. "You and I both know that. Do not pity me."

Kyrah shakes her head. "It is as much of your fault as it is Ezra's, but I am not here to place anything on you."

"You should."

"You want me to but I will not."

His breath staggers as he struggles against his composure. He had nothing to say. He spent hours alone, readying himself to deal with firesome anger but Kyrah knows that is what he craves.

He is already down. The least they can do is give him the pleasure of burying him.

Kyrah's kindness does not feel like the kindness he desires.

She watches him, intently, her gaze peering down to the tear that graces his cheek. Kyrah debates whether or not she should do something but her thoughts are quickly disregarded— she stands on her toes, stretching her arms so her fingers brace the side of Mattias' face. Her thumb softly wipes his tear away, and she is careful to not let her thumb press harshly over the rest of his blemishes.

"Will you forgive me?" Mattias cries, bashful. "I do not deserve it."

Kyrah falters, still cupping Mattias' face gently. She whispers, "I would forgive you but I did not ask you for an apology."

It wounds him even more. But, if all he understands is violence then Kyrah will speak in that language.

If anger is mercy then kindness is cruelty.

Noted to Mattias, Kyrah, also, is fluent in the language of violence.

That is how they will continue to save each other.

Mattias wraps his arms around Kyrah. She already feels small compared to him, but his embrace is warm and loving towards her. The thought of her even feeling small is put out of consideration in comparison to how much she matters to him.

He is capable of terrible things. She is also capable of terrible things. However, it is easy for her to forget all of that when they are together like this.

The blood on her hands does not outweigh his. They will always have equal cuts in equal measure.

The die has been set.

❧ author's note:

after 1600 years i finally released.... this chapter was so painful to write after nonstop rewriting

this one is for you, bel 🫶🫶