To Learn To Fall (Sequel to the Other Side)

Chapter Sixteen (The Lost Warrior)

You never really realize how common birds are in the world until they've completely disappeared. And you never really realize how much you care about someone until they're suddenly gone, too.

Thomas had been gone for two weeks, and in those two weeks, I've come up with the worst possibilities of what could have happened to him.

Dead, bleeding, held captive.

"You know, you don't have to go looking for him," advised James. "He'll come back eventually. He's done this before, and he's never really left for good." There was doubt in his words, like he didn't fully believe what he was saying himself.

"I'm just going on a walk," I said, reciting the lines I had practiced for a while. "I'm not looking for him. I just need time to think."

"Be careful, Alexander." He added the next part as an afterthought. "And if you find Thomas, maybe you should bring him back."

"Will do. I'll see you later."

It was a lie, of course, that I was only going for a walk. I didn't plan to stop until I found Thomas and brought him home. I left the castle every morning as soon as I woke up, and never came back until darkness blanketed the sky and I couldn't go anywhere. And I'd keeping doing it until I found him.

I focused, found my energy, and teleported to where I had quit my search yesterday.

I pitched forwards almost instantly, but I caught myself before I fell. I groaned and held my head, dots of light obscuring my vision. I felt like I was spinning. Finally, the dots disappeared, and I looked up. In spite of myself, I grinned.

It was horrible still, but I was getting better.

I looked around and picked a direction. An uncomfortable silence filled the woods as I trekked through them quietly; the only noise was that of my boots crunching against fallen leaves. I missed the birdsong I had grown quite used to. It had always been so pretty, even if it wasn't intending to be. And it always reminded me of the person I cared about more than anything.

My stomach fell at the thought of him, and I swore I could taste the simple sweetness of his lips. "Where are you, Thomas?" I asked myself, waiting for a response that wouldn't come.

It's going to be alright, I reassured myself. He's gotta be here somewhere.

The day dragged on, humid but gray. Although it had stopped raining, the sky was still obscured by clouds as far as the eye could see, a dull, blank canvas. You wanted to paint the canvas, add a splash of color or opportunity, but you couldn't find the motivation nor the creativity.

I didn't know how I was supposed to feel. I wanted to be angry at him, but the triumphant thought in my head was just that of hugging him. It played over and over again like a broken record of an annoying song that was good the first couple of times but now just annoying. Did I even want to find him?

Yes.

The single word was sharp and clear and immediate.

Now that I had had him, I couldn't picture a world without Thomas.

But did he feel the same way? He lied to me. He kept things from me. And when I was finally trying to help him because I understood, he ran away.

And the worst part of it all was that I couldn't—didn't— blame him.

I slid my hand to my eyes and wiped away the tears blurring my vision. I took a couple of deep breaths until the frustration fell away and was replaced by a gritty determination. But most importantly, I kept looking.