[edited: 04/06/2018]

It was miraculous just how quickly Maksim had recovered from his earlier state of unconsciousness. Remy couldn't help but marvel at him—at his bright eyes, which had not long been hidden away by heavy lids, and his tall stance, which held no evidence that he was weak or in pain—as he hovered in the doorway of the Medical Wing's waiting room, a small smile on his face. Of course, he was still covered in blisters and burns, but they looked much less inflamed and life-threatening now than they had when she had pulled him out of the lake.

She stood up from the plastic chair beneath her, her eyes wide. She was unsure of what to say to him. So much had happened between them, and she had been so afraid that perhaps she had lost him that she was filled with an aching desperation to hug him, but she restrained herself for both of their sakes. The fight they had had, though it seemed so long ago now and so trivial, was still gnawing at the back of her mind.

Instead, she greeted him with a simple, "Hello."

Amusement glittered in his eyes, and something else that she could not quite read. "Hello," he said finally, his hands placed awkwardly at his sides. "You were not there when I woke up."

"I—" It only occurred to her once she opened her mouth that she had no real answer for him. What was there to say? "No, I wasn't. I didn't ..."

Speaking had never felt so hard a task for her before as it did now. It felt as though she had something heavy in her mouth that clung to her tongue and prevented her from expressing herself properly.

Maksim frowned, shoving his hands in his pockets and freeing her from his gaze to look outside the waiting room. The medics must have given him a new set of clothes, for he was dressed in a plain white t-shirt and loose black trousers. It was the most normal he had ever looked, aside from the time he had been dressed in mortal clothes when he had pushed her through the portal, but even so he looked like some kind of divine creature, just as he always did, and just as he always would.

Remy was surprised at the bitterness of her own thoughts and cleared her throat to distract herself from losing herself to them.

"We should get home. You must be cold and tired." He looked her up and down and only then was she aware of the dampness of her clothes and hair and the heaviness of her body. She had been too worried about Maksim to have noticed before.

She nodded once and followed him out of the waiting room and down the Medical Wing's corridor, where at least fifty injured people were sitting, kneeling, lying down, crying. The sight shocked her; she had always thought of warlocks and witches as invincible, and now here they were, weak and covered in their own blood. She was thankful when her vision blurred with tears and she didn't have to look at their horrific wounds and traumatised expressions. Maksim must have sensed her discomfort, for he placed his hand in hers and squeezed it softly, pulling her quickly around the corner and off the ward. His hand was hot in her cold, trembling one.

There was a strange feeling passing between the two of them as they made their way towards the main hall. Perhaps it was the silence that was filled with so many unsaid words, or perhaps it was their heightened emotions that made them feel more connected, but it was a feeling of closeness, a feeling of homeliness that she never thought she could feel anywhere other than the beach in her own world, never mind in a warlock realm where she was the only mortal being—never mind somewhere where she had almost lost her life.

The feeling confused her and settled her all at the same time, but she had no time to think about why, for as she stepped into the main hall, which was filled with people dressed in red and dozens of portals from which people were constantly emerging, her eyes glanced over a familiar face.

"Sarah!" she gasped, letting go of Maksim's hand and running towards her friend. Relief flooded through her, and then, stronger than that, guilt. She had barely spared a thought for her since leaving the lake. For all she had known, Sarah might have still been trapped in that cave and Remy wouldn't have realised.

Surprise crossed Sarah's face as she saw Remy pushing through crowds of warlocks and witches to get to her, to hug her. She clung onto her, of the face that reminded her so much of home. "I'm so sorry," she said over and over again into the other girl's shoulder. "I'm so, so sorry, Sarah."

Sarah said nothing, and after a few moments, pulled away, a grave expression on her face. Remy hadn't noticed before, but she was no longer wearing her glasses, and her brown eyes seemed smaller than what she was used to. "I was worried about you," she responded finally. "Then Beck told me you were back here."

"Beck?" questioned Remy. "Who's Beck?"

"That would be me," said a golden-haired boy standing next to Sarah. Remy had not even noticed him standing there until he had spoken, nor had she noticed that Maksim had followed her through the crowds until she took a step backwards and her shoulder brushed against his tensed arm. "You must be Remy, and of course, Maksim, Hilda Opal's son. It is nice to finally meet the two of you. After all, you have caused quite a stir."

Remy didn't like the way he said that last sentence, as though he was implying that they had wanted any of this. She ignored him, looking back at Sarah expectantly.

"Beck found me after I escaped the cave. He helped me get back."

"And now," interrupted Maksim in a frosty tone, "he is free to leave. The mortal will be coming home with us, thank you."

Beck flashed an unimpressed look at Maksim before his gaze fell back to Sarah. There was something about his eyes—blood red and unnaturally shiny—that made Remy feel uneasy, and she found herself looking to Maksim for reassurance, wishing now that she had not let go of his hand. He was watching Beck and Sarah curiously, his jawline tensed and, now that she was closer and could see him better, his complexion pale against the burnt parts of his skin. 

"Sarah?" Beck asked. "Will you be alright?"

Sarah sighed and nodded. "Yes. Thank you for all your help, but I'm sure you have things you need to be doing now. I'll be fine, honestly."

Beck seemed satisfied by this response, his peculiar eyes falling on Remy and Maksim one last time before he left, disappearing into the crowd until he was just another warlock dressed in red. Another soldier returning from a war, Remy thought.

She turned back to her friend. "Sarah, I really am so sorry. I just ... there was so much going on, and I—"

"You left me," she interjected matter-of-factly. "You had other priorities."

"It wasn't like that."

"No, it most certainly wasn't." Maksim's tone was stone cold and he was glaring furiously at Sarah. His cheeks flushed red, and it was the most alive he had looked since his near-death experience. "Remy was almost killed today, so perhaps you might excuse her if you slipped her mind for a few moments."

"Maksim," she scolded, feeling her own face heat up. Half of her was pleased that she had someone—or, more specifically, him—backing her corner, but the other half knew she did not deserve it, for it was her fault Sarah was here in the first place.

"No, enough!" His shout was unexpected, and more than a few people turned to find the source of the noise as it echoed through the hall above the murmurs of others. "I will not stand here and watch you punish yourself further for this. You have suffered enough today. You have suffered enough pain and hardship to last you a lifetime, and if anyone is to blame, it is my family and I."

"Please, no more arguing," she pleaded, her voice sounding weak and pathetic against Maksim's. "You know this isn't your fault, Max."

Something in Remy's tone must have told him how tired she was, for his expression softened and his hand found hers again, which caused her heart to race with whatever it was she always felt when she was around him—something she never wanted to label, for fear of what it might mean.

"Nor is it yours." He ran his free hand through his hair stressfully, looking as though he was fighting the urge to yawn. Finally, he exhaled in defeat. "You are right. No more arguing. Let's just go home and try to find a slither of our sanity again."

"Do you think it still exists?" It was only half a joke, but she let the corner of her mouth turn up in a small smile before she faced Sarah, still feeling no better about the situation she had put her friend in. "Sarah?"

Sarah pursed her lips and nodded, tucking a strand of brown hair behind her ear, a habit she had had ever since the two had met in primary school. It meant, Remy knew, that she was in one of her serious moods, but that was no surprise. Her life had been changed because of this, too, and all because of Remy. How would either of them live with that?

She did not want to think about it, so she didn't. Instead, she allowed Maksim to drag her out of Central Hall and into the fresh air of Astracia, where she was glad to find there were no black lakes or grey cliffs, and certainly no ominous clouds. It was nighttime, but the sky was still as clear as ever, a deep, smooth purple like that of a taaffeite gemstone. The warm city lights, though dim, brought her comfort, as did the gushing fountain that she had walked past many a time now.

The only thing that stopped her from feeling completely at ease was the chain that still hung around her neck, or more specifically, what was attached to it, for though it was as cold as stone now, she knew it would not stay that way. The Dark Ones, Ackmard and Erika, were far from gone, and as long as she had the key, they never would be.