The Heirs of Death

18. Reflections

REFLECTIONS

A blur. Everything around and within me was nothing but a hazy blur. Even the rush of magic and adrenaline as I darted through the woods so fast eyes could not notice me--with Leon at my side--wasn't enough to get rid of the heavy weight on my chest.  Wasn't enough to stop feeling like I was lost. And broken.

Not friends.  Never friends anymore.

There was no going back to that point, not now, not ever. Not even with Death reaping us apart. I could not even tell when we stopped being just friends, when the way I stared at him changed.

But not lovers.

We'd never had been quite lovers, even with all that was said under the willow.
There was a sweet and warm flame growing between us--and more than just a flicker--but not a trashing fire. It could have grown with little more time, could have turned to something divine.
I didn't have that time in my hands.

And perhaps it was that Leon knew stopping here, in this blurred circle where we had been roaming for a while now, was the right choice that made him agree. Or perhaps, it was to ease the pressure falling on me, to not break me in my last days, to spend time like I--we--needed it even when it tore us both from the inside. Our love was sweet poison, a delighting curse. And the sword at our necks.

So I ran. Ran like I had never done before. Ran like I would never feel the winds on my skin and in my hair, like I would never know again how my muscles felt as they shifted as I dodged, how the earth felt beneath my near bare feet. I ran like I could free my heart from the cage I'd picked, like I could turn into that wind that billowed through my cloak, and unbind.

The woods were nothing but tall trees bathed in a dying darkness as I jumped over bumpy roots, slipped under massive and almost bare branches, and enjoyed the cold bite of water on my skin as we passed through small streams. The only times I didn't keep full focus on the lands surrounding us and those far, watching eyes, were when I would turn to sneak one or two glances at Aedis, every time smiling at him as he caught those gentle stares. He always smiled back.

Yes, I could live with that choice, could be locked in this blurriness if it meant being near and protecting him all at once.

It had been hours since we left the clearing, running non-stop and as fast as hurling winds. There was roughly a third of an hour before dawn would rise and turn to day, and roughly half that time before we reached the wicth's cottage.

We were jumping over a bunch of rocks when a sudden ache shot in my very eyes, a furious pounding of blood drumming and closing and squeezing my skull. I landed with a hiss, hands dug in the dirt as I pushed back the magic narrowing on mine.

It was cold, as though ice pierced the spot right between my eyes. I pushed it with no harshness, instead brushed it with mental claws, pulling it slowly before those claws dug in the barrier around us. Something in the woods rippled, a line of growls surging in the still air. I allowed a bit of magic to seep, to break that barrier as I saw with every detail through my Ealas and spirit where it originated from.