Desmond, what's wrong?

What's the matter?

Christina and Amy's voices. Calling out to him, trying to bring him back. They were worried, and they had every right to be. After all, he had suddenly collapsed, falling to his knees.

Holding his hands to his chest as if his heart would explode.

The strange thing would be if they hadn't cared. Strange and despicable.

Yet right now, for him, their concern was nothing more than a nuisance.

He was here, but he wasn't here.

His eyes and ears were still searching his surroundings.

The deep darkness of the night. The train tracks following the horizon that seemed just out of reach. The silent trees, which watched them from both sides of the road.

But he was somewhere else, really. Somewhere that to him was only darkness and absence.

It wasn't a complicated feeling. Something he had to struggle to put into words. It was a very concrete, physical absence. What was tearing at his heart was that absence.

The second set of beats in his chest had suddenly stopped. That could only mean one thing.

Desmond. Desmond! Desmond!

Hands on his shoulders, shaking like a straw doll.

Leave me alone, can't you see what's happened? Leave me alone.

But he knew he was the only one who could understand.

It wasn't the first time those heartbeats had stopped. Of course it wasn't. But, as he had rightly thought, that could only mean one thing.

It meant what it meant. It didn't even need to be explained. Abigail was dead. No, she had been killed.

She was an immortal who had lived for two thousand years. She would come back to life, just like all the other times. It wouldn't even take her long. But that she had died in such a situation, that was the important thing, the serious thing.

He had stabbed her in the back.

He had left her alone, abandoned, in the middle of enemy territory. If they had managed to kill her, then she was in their hands. Then it was that she hadn't succeeded, and...

Desmond felt like throwing up. He bent forward, waiting for his throat to burn. To expel what was inside him as if it were a disease. But it didn't.

He didn't vomit and the feeling persisted. Burning inside him.

He was sweating. His body was covered in sweat, as if he was in a sauna.

But, at the same time, his body was being cut by an icy cold. It was as if he was on the verge of dying from hypothermia.

Desmond's heart was still beating. However, it was as if his heartbeat had stopped as well.... And, as a result, his body was eating itself from the inside.

"Mom! Mom!"

He howled at the moon. The wild animal that he was howled at the moon like a newborn puppy.

... But the mother didn't come to soothe his sobs.

He had only silence in response.

Of course, her heart hadn't started up again. He shouldn't have expected anything else. Still, he had called out to her desperately as if there really was a chance that she would answer.

There wasn't. His mother was far, far away. In the darkness of death.

The cub was left unanswered, unconsoled. Shivering alone in the merciless moonlight.

Desmond thought... He truly believed that she could make it. No, that she would certainly make it. Because Abigail was strong. Because she could do anything.

He had left her in a desperate situation. But, in his heart of hearts, he had never believed it could end like this.

He was deluded. From the beginning to the end, he had been a deluded fool.

And now he would be alone forever...

"Desmond!"

He raised his head slowly.

No, he wasn't alone. Christina and Amy were with him. They were sitting, on their knees, around him. They were looking at him in fear.

They were afraid for him. Because they loved him. They, surely, would not have left him behind in a desperate situation to save themselves... No, to pursue some misplaced sense of morality.

As he had done with Abigail. He was to blame for this. For what had happened and what would happen.

But he was already trying to get the responsibility off his shoulders!

That he hadn't known it would end like this? That he hadn't believed Abigail could be defeated? How ridiculous!

As strong as she was, and even though she had the war machine, she had to face an army.

It was only natural that in the end she had been defeated and captured. And he knew it. He had known from the beginning that that was a very possible consequence of his decision. But he had made it anyway because it suited him.

Because... Because, it seemed, he didn't care enough about Abigail.

He had changed. Since coming to The Four Seasons academy, he has been transformed....

For the worse. Much worse.

He looked around. Past Christina and Amy, to those faces filled with hatred, distrust and fear. That was what he had gained in exchange for the person who should be the most important to him. Hate, distrust and fear.

They wouldn't even thank him! Abigail had been killed, captured. She would come back, but Amy could lose her arm. She could go into shock and die and she wouldn't come back.

She wouldn’t.

Was it really worth it? Was all this crap worth it just because in return he had saved dozens of lives that surely would have been lost?

No.

Desmond came to the conclusion quickly, without needing to think about it.

No. It wasn't worth it at all.

Tears of frustration and sadness ran down his cheeks. They were warm as blood.

He had made the wrong decision.

There was no doubt about that. He wished he could take it back.

"Desmond, please calm down." That was what Christina said.

He thought he remembered that she had once said that telling a person to calm down didn't usually work.

That, in fact, usually had the opposite effect.

Or maybe it was something he himself had said. In any case, it was true. There was no point in a calm down and that was that. But...

But calm down, he thought. It's not her fault.

It's true, you are to blame. And she... they're doing it with all the good intentions in the world. So calm down.

"What's the matter?"

Didn't they hear him screaming? That should be enough explanation. There was only one person in this world he called mother.

And... there it was again. He took a deep breath.

"She's dead," Desmond whispered, though it was too late to pretend to be discreet. "She's dead, she's been taken."

The shadow. Somehow, that abomination was still alive. Even after all that had been done to it, it had risen up and killed his mother. He should have set the body on fire.

Telling himself that was, of course, futile. Not only because of the obvious. That there was no going back and no possibility of mending.

He was saying it because he had not had the means to set fire to the body, even if it had occurred to him at the time.

Anyway... Abigail had shattered the body with bullets fired from the cannons of the war machine.

If that hadn't been enough, what was to say that burning the body would?

"Just because she's dead... doesn't mean she's been taken...." Amy said.

He was surprised.

Of course it surprised him.

Not too long ago, Amy had been barely conscious, nonvrbal. Now, by force of will, she had surfaced. Though every word was an effort... Though her eyes wouldn't stay fixed on him, they were rolling around like marbles....

She was trying her best. Giving it her all when her tank was practically empty.

And all because she cared about him, in a situation she should only care about herself.

That struck a chord in his heart. Of course it did.

"You're right," Christina said. "That night, she was caught by Laura. By the traitor. Still, she managed to escape."

But not without my help.

Desmond thought that, but he didn't say it. There was no point in stating the obvious. It was something that even Christina herself was aware of.

Besides, she was right.

That is, they were both right.

It was possible that she had escaped, that she had regenerated in time and managed to get away before they put her in who knows where, to experiment on her.

Just because he had helped her that night didn't mean that she would need his help tonight as well.

In fact, had she needed his help then? It was quite possible that things would have gone the same way. Laura defeated, her men dead, and Abigail free.

In reality, Desmond hadn't done much that night. Not even giving her time to regenerate. In the long haul, Abigail would have regenerated, sooner or later, on her own.

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He had only been present. He couldn't take credit, saying that he had been the one to turn the situation around.

And Abigail had managed for two thousand years without his help. Without anyone's help. That she escaped might be what he wanted to believe, something that seemed too good to be true...

But, in reality, it didn't seem so far-fetched.

Desmond would believe in Abigail until the very last moment. And if in the end she didn't manage to escape....

He would go to her rescue. Whatever it would cost, he would rescue her. And he would kill all those sons of bitches. As soon as the opportunity presented itself, he would make the right decision.

He would never stray once again.

I promise. I promise you, Mom.

Oh, mother!

Once again, he had turned away from the world. Desmond forgot to answer what I had to answer.

Desmond stood up as he did so.

"It's true." He wiped his hands over his face, wiping away tears. "It's true, let's move on. You don't have to..." He swallowed. "There's no reason for the worst to have happened."

Desmond started walking.

But not immediately, not alone.

While he had been... indisposed, Christina had held Amy, keeping her from falling to the ground. He had her pass Amy back to him.

Christina had enough to carry herself.

She was hurting and exhausted.

Not in as bad a state as Amy, certainly, but it was enough that he didn't want to overwhelm her.

He had enough to deal with.

Besides, he had to do something to make up for his shameful behavior.

He couldn't let Christina carry Amy and then let just go by himself, even though he was in the best shape of the three of them, by far, thanks to his regeneration.

That would be more embarrassing than anything else.

The students around him also resumed walking.

That is, they had stopped as they did when he fell to his knees, and had watched that shameful spectacle.

But, of course, the reason had nothing to do with sympathy.

Not that they had seen anything wrong in their eyes.

They hated him, wished him ill.

That was still true.

But they simply didn't want to be left alone. In the middle of this dark night, where it seemed that anyone... or anything, could appear at any moment.

After an experience like that, naturally they didn't want to be separated.

If they had gone off on their own, they would have a group of dozens of mages.

A good group.

It's not like they would be defenseless....

But, for the same reasons they hated and feared him, they had clearly seen how dangerous he was.

They knew that, if they were attacked along the way, he was their best asset.

Before, he had said that this wouldn't be possible, despite the fear that naturally did not leave them.

But now, things have changed.

The shadow was alive.

That thing could appear at any moment. To finish the job.

And he hadn't been able to kill it. Neither with the knife, nor with the hail of bullets that shattered its entire body.

They could only slow it down.

It was a hateful and virtually unstoppable enemy, at least with what he knew.

... Something like him.

There was every reason to fear that the shadow would catch up with them.

Transformed into smoke, it was very fast.

The question was not whether it could reach them, but whether it could find them in the first place.

That it wouldn't be able to find them was the only thing that would save them.

Therefore...

Desmond glanced sideways at Amy, who was leaning on his shoulder, eyes narrowed.

It would complicate things in a sense....

But at least he could say that he wouldn't regret this decision since he was doing it for her.

For the three of them.

He didn't have to choose between anything or anyone, so there was no conflict within him.

"Let's get out of the way," Desmond said.

If the black smoke found them, it would all end right there. They would fight to the end...which would be their death. They were in no state to put up a fight against such an enemy.

An enemy they could barely touch, let alone kill.

So following the train tracks was obviously the wrong decision.

It would be like leaving a trail behind them.

It wouldn't be difficult for it to find them if they didn't stray from the path. Besides, if they cut through the forest, the trees would serve as cover.

It was the best they could do and the only thing, in all likelihood.

He headed into the forest.

"Why? "It was Christina who questioned him, to his surprise.

Not that he thought he was unquestionable.

Desmond wasn't nearly so arrogant. It surprised him because it should have been obvious to her, since she was smarter than he was, and he opened his mouth to say so, more or less.

He closed it when he realized it wasn't obvious to her.

To anyone but him.

After all, Desmond hadn't told them that the shadow was still alive, somehow.

Abigail had told him, but that was a message that had only come to him.

So the others had no way of knowing.

Desmond explained it, at last.

"I see," Christina said, and marched behind him, into the cover of the forest. Many of the students did the same. Without protesting, without deciding to say a word.

But some did.

They started talking nonsense.

Like, why did they have to do that, when he had just explained it.

Like, for example, that if they went into the forest they risked being attacked by wild animals, they didn't want that.

Like, for example, that the train tracks were synonymous with safety.

So they were not to stray from the path.

Desmond didn't bother to listen to them, to convince them, wasting time and effort. He had done enough for them.

He had sacrificed too much already, and he didn't want to lose a single thing more because of them.

If they wouldn't listen to the voice of reason, well, Desmond and his loved ones wouldn't pay for it. Not one more time. Not once.

As promised, Desmond would make the right decision.

So, Desmond left without looking back for a moment.

Christina hesitated, he thought. Because she was too nice for her own good.

But, in turn, she was too smart to fall into the same trap he did.

So she followed him.

Then...

Trouble didn't take long to come.

"Desmond." Christina called out to him, her face tense, her lips tight. "Something's coming. I feel it."

She was whispering as not to be overheard by the other students, no, not to be overheard by Amy, even.

For which she might not have needed to whisper at all.

A moment ago, she spoke a little.

Now, though... He couldn't tell if Amy had finally lost consciousness, and he was afraid to check.

All Desmond knew was that her eyes were closed.

And she was getting heavier and heavier.

Enough was enough, he supposed. It was more than enough to know that.....

Desmond had to concentrate.

Something was coming, and he knew that something could only be the shadow.

"Okay. Let me know when it's close.

"I can do it, you know.... "She lowered her voice "But I'm afraid I won't be able to do it in time. That, by the time I want to warn you, it'll be on top of us. That... that damn thing."

Desmond licked his lips.

They were dry, well, his mouth and throat too. He desperately needed a sip of water, but he hadn't tasted a drop in too long, and he hadn't stopped for a moment.

"Okay," Desmond repeated, feeling very stupid with that repetition, as if he didn't know how to say anything else. I'll...I'll do what I can," he added, but perhaps it would have been better not to say anything at all.

It hadn't added anything, but it might have taken something away from him.

He would have to do what he could.

Desmond concentrated.

He used all five of his senses to the fullest. It didn't take him long to see it, as expected. Christina's range wasn't too great, and the black smoke was very fast.

The black smoke was billowing across the skies. It blurred the light of the stars, the pale moonlight.

Desmond could see it above the trees, flying over them all.

Close. Too close.

If it saw them, it would be all over.

Desmond would be reunited with Abigail, it was true. But the price would be the lives of his partners.

It would kill them and then drag his broken body, inhabited by a dead soul, into the same hole where they intended to put Abigail, to use him against her.

To get her to cooperate.

That would be how things would end, if they saw him.

And Desmond couldn't accept an end like that.

"Still. Quiet everyone, don't make a sound. Tight against the trees and stay low."

Desmond obeyed his own orders.

So did Christina. And Amy, of course, by extension.

He waited for the others to do the same. There was a lump in his throat.

Thinking that just one of them, just one disobedient one could ruin everything, or could have already, when they had fought so hard, on top of that, when they had come so far....

Desmond didn't feel like saving them again, precisely.

No, no.

Even though their lives were at stake, many sons of bitches stood there like statues.

Fortunately, their more level headed companions dragged them to the ground and into the trees. Minimizing the profile.

Desmond looked skyward.

He couldn't see the black smoke from here. If he could see it, so would it, so that was good.

But... Desmond wished he could see it, somehow.

That way, at least, he would feel....

Not calmer, but more in control of this situation. Right now, Desmond could only blindly hope that things would work out. That it would go in another direction and they could continue the march, without alerting it, without risking alerting it.

He had plenty of ground to search.

It wasn't too much to ask.

Desmond would have to risk it, he realized.

At some point, he would have to risk it. If he didn't see the black smoke, he wouldn't recognize the right time to move or know which direction to move in.

So he would have to take a look. Like sticking his neck in the stocks of a guillotine.

Either that or stay here crouched down, hoping to get lucky enough to see the shadow cross the sky between the trees. And he didn't exactly consider himself a blessed person.

Quite the contrary.

Rather, he...

Why was he thinking as if he were alone, as if he could only count on what he could do, what he could see?

He looked to the side. At Christina.

He slid a hand over the grass until he touched the girl's hand.

He wrapped his own around her, squeezing.

She looked at their clasped hands and then back at him. He hoped she had gotten the message. He was too afraid to open his mouth. Fearing the slightest whisper might alert the black smoke.

He shook his head.

Christina could feel it and it was still hanging around.

But how accurate was that feeling, that second sight?

Desmond regretted not having explored that point further when she'd still had a chance to do so.

Desmond hoped it would be enough

He hoped...

He didn't like leaving his life in someone else's hands.

Whether it was a person or fate itself.

He wanted to shape his own destiny, but here and now, today, he could only wait pitifully.

Desmond leaned his head back further.

Gently he closed his eyes.

The tears that had gathered in his eyes when he received the terrible news in the bluntest, most shocking way possible spilled over.

Bitter tears, falling slowly, slowly.

Warm as blood.

Desmond gave a slight gasp as one of the tears fell to the floor.

He feared, even, that that sound would be enough to give them away. But, if so, the mere fact that they were breathing would be enough.

They were safe, and they would get out of this.

They were safe, and they would get out of this.

They would get out of this.

He squeezed Christina's hand even tighter, or maybe it had been her doing it?

He couldn't say.

Maybe both.

In the darkness of his closed eyelids, Desmond could almost see the shadow materializing in front of him, in its human shape.

"He's gone out of my reach," Christina said.

It took him a few seconds to register what she had told him.

To get over the fear that had settled in his chest at the sound of such a loud voice, a sound that would have surely doomed them.

They were safe.

So they were safe. Good.

But he hadn't seen it go, so....

"In what direction did he go?" Desmond asked. He opened his eyes and stood up, leaning against the tree trunk with one hand turned back.

"I couldn't say exactly. I'm sorry."

"Okay. So... let's get going. In any direction."

It was a very long time, but eventually they emerged from the forest and were greeted with a shower of light.

The city was just ahead.

They had managed to escape, at last. He was safe. Christina and Amy were safe too. And, and...

His lips trembled.

Desmond put a hand to his chest. He listened to the heartbeat.

There was still only his own heartbeat there.

They would come back, sooner or later. It was impossible that they had killed her for good. He needn't worry about that. But...

But they weren't there.

They were gone, those heartbeats, here and now. That was what mattered.

Without them, the lights of the sleeping city seemed very distant and opaque.

Like an island vaguely outlined on the horizon like fog, seen from the shore of another island where there was nothing and no one.

Desmond and the rest approached the city.