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POV: Rena

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I followed closely behind, making sure to keep his figure in view.

The images of just what he had done would occasionally flicker in my mind, and each time, I'd be assailed by... by...

Just what is it?

It's like I'm being pulled away, like my feet are going to leave the ground.

I feel sick yet grateful?

But that- slimy pool of blood sliding across the floor... It was so awful—so wrong.

A wave of fear and disgust ran down my body, and I clenched my hands together even tighter.

My library, my home—it was always so clean and safe.

What did I do?

Just why did I do such a thing?

This is all my fault.

I shivered, uncomfortable in my own skin as if overcome by sudden sickness; it was like being pulled into a terrifying winter wasteland, and I had nowhere to hide.

Then there were her eyes.

I couldn't tear myself away from them, and even when he stepped in front of me, I could still see it, as if burned into my vision forever.

I thought it would never go away.

Anger or resentment, I hadn't felt in a long time; I only wanted to leave or be looked at the way everyone else is, yet I always felt I'd relish in revenge, like the characters of those stories on the shelves high above.

So why do I feel so awful?

She looked so horrified with that withering gaze.

In the end, it was just another stone thrown into the still sea of my mind, those tempestuous waves settling through time rather than reconciliation.

I'll never forget that line...

But they will always linger below the surface... never leaving me alone.

Looking up, I traced my eyes across his still wings.

Did he not feel anything at all?

His life is over.

I could not see the anxious flicking of feathers or an unevenness to his steps—not a single tell-tale detail I'd spent so long deciphering in those around...

Had something happened to him?

I used to see that look of envy on his face when she beat him in duels. Everyone would stare at him with relaxed disappointment, thinking themselves masters of disguise.

Yet... I couldn't see joy in his steps or on his face earlier.

There was only concern... Why?

From the corner of my eye, I caught him look up to the sky.

He's... like a different person.

Is he just going to leave?

Another pang of anxiety coursed through my heart, and a sudden faintness almost made me stumble.

Shut up! Shut up!

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I gripped at my stomach and kept up my pace; the comforting warmth of my hand was the only thing that alleviated my weakness.

What do I do? I- I can't stay here.

We came up to the edge of a building, and Adrian rounded the corner to our side.

For a moment, I used the cold touch of the wall to steady myself while briefly recounting where this passage led.

When it came to me, I swiftly caught up to him and futilely tried mentally preparing myself to speak with him.

He- he has to take me with him. I have to get away, at least.

But... he has no reason to help me; he could have easily killed me as well, but... he's my only chance, even if it's dangerous or if he's planning something twisted.

Was it all an illusion? Is this all a trick? Did they know the moment I broke in there?

I can't be paranoid; I can't.

He quickly checked both sides, and his calm gesturing pulled me from my thoughts.

I followed close behind.

The skin on my face felt tight like a mask of dried-on paint, and the pace of my heart quickened with each step.

It was the bitter taste of fear in my mouth that held me back—this feeling that my life was reaching a climax somehow.

What's wrong with me?

I'm such a freak, why can't I just... just...

"...Extrodinary."

He spoke quietly, and his smooth tone of awe calmed me down.

I was still behind him, but close enough to the side that I could see his face.

He was not looking down but outward, and his unwavering eyes were tilted toward the sky in admiration.

It was only slight, but the look of near reverence was unmistakable to me.

My lips parted in surprise, and shock pulled my eyes wide. The one feeling I'd relish--seeing the vast, fathomless force that forms our world at the seam, one that has stood for all eternity.

I feel lost in it, tiny in it, meaningless in its overbearing enormity.

Losing myself in my memories, I inadvertently gave voice to my surprise.

"You can see The Fold here too?"

I only realised what I had asked after it reached my own ears.

No, no, no. Don't think about it now.

I had to say something anyway.

Now that the silence was broken, I took another breath, and a small part of whatever confidence I had returned to me; so I calmed my face, even if I could not calm my heart.

From the corner of my vision, his lips parted subtly.

"Yes. It never ceases to astonish me, and this might be the last time I see it."

I couldn't help but swallow the words forming on my tongue. I had been briefly excited, but his sombre attitude made me stumble over myself.

It was true.

He had broken the Doctrine, and he knew that.

I had read so many accounts of what followed, and it seemed different each time. Insanity, rampage, suicide, their power turning on themselves...

Just... just why had he done it.

Again, I asked myself why, but obviously, no ideas came—I couldn't comprehend any possible reason.

He turned to look at me now, and I wracked my brain for a quick response, not wanting to appear strange.

"I- I didn't know anyone else could. It isn't written about anywhere."

It was only to fill the awkward void in the air.

This conversation hasn't gone how I expected, and I don't know what to say.

I felt lost—like my life was slipping away between my breaths.

And then his voice struck me.

"You should leave. You will only be blamed if you're seen with me."

Horror stabbed at my chest, and that terror I had pushed away poured out like a bursting dam.

Every aspect of my will forced me to hold it together, and in my instability, what I wanted to say slipped off my tongue.

"W-why? Why would you save me then. They'll only blame me if they can't find you. I-I don't want to stay here anymore; I can't take it, not after this."

He may as well strangle me and throw me over this edge; even that would be easier to live through.

I didn't even want to look up and meet those eyes, and I turned away, leaving my back to him.

Tears forced themselves through no matter how hard I resisted, and my vision blurred.

Why is it so hard? Just don't cry.

My mind felt hot, and my hands were shaking in surrendered protest.

Just... why?

Was this all his selfish way of feeling good after committing a terrible act...? Was I only an ornament to distract from his guilt?

I...

I can't believe I let myself hope again—let myself be blinded by those childishly romantic stories... again.

"Yo... "

His voice made me perk me ears, but it suddenly cut short.

Something felt off, and for a moment, it pulled me back into reality.

I was about to turn, but instead I flinched, feeling a brush against my shoulder.

His body fell past like a puppet cut from its strings.

What?

I had backed away, but I suddenly realised he had turned to avoid me.

The weight of his sword was pulling him to the edge.

I didn't breath; I only jumped forward.

He was already mostly over.

He was heavier than me.

I would obviously be pulled along with him.

I jumped anyway and grasped hold of his arm, and my stomach was pulled into my throat.

The blood rushed away from my fingers, and the whistling wind in my ears beckoned me into panic.

Pulling myself forward, I inched toward his back.

I... I had practised this. I will be his wings.

My hair flicked into my face, and I couldn't find the ground.

I only unfurled my much smaller wings—the ones only barely capable of keeping me afloat—and arched them back.

It was like trying to sail up a waterfall. It was stupid, insane even, and my muscles burned trying to hold his weight from under his arms.

Suddenly, darkness encroached on my vision.

I thought I had died, but it was the sun passing around the fold, and the sky began to gain its ephemeral beauty.

In that moment, I didn't care what the outcome was.

I had made a decision in my life, and I would live or die with it.