“There must be something we can do,” Cyg said, gripping his seat.

“For this kind of contract to break, the mage has to release it either willingly or by dying. We both know neither is possible given Merry... But you’re correct—there is something we can do.”

“What is it?”

“You can run,” she replied with a determined look, “I’m the one with a soul she can track, not you. She can’t find you if I stay away.”

“Huh?! Weren’t you worried about me running away without you?”

“...Forget it, getting this far is enough. Even I know when I’ve lost—Merry might as well be a force of nature because there’s nothing we can do about her! What, would you pick a fight with the sky when it rains!?”

Again.

Cyg was faced with the same fate once more.

Once when he was a child, helpless when his family was stolen away. Again when he lost Griff to carelessness. Now, it was about to happen for the third time.

Perhaps it was logical to stay with her, for they had no guarantee the witch was unable to track Cyg, but he didn’t even consider it. He simply could never accept such an outcome.

“No.” Touching the runes that were steering the cart, he used his mana to turn it around.

Before it could travel a single pace, Alicia wrangled free his control. “What are you doing!?”

“Take us back. We need to talk, and it would be just stupid to get caught outside of the circle and die here.” He was barely able to keep calm.

The apprentice found that excuse to be good enough and drove them back inside. The barrier pushed against and swallowed them, a warm welcome from the place they could only consider a prison. Alicia was sick to her stomach. Having freedom dangled in front of her and then snatched away was unbearable, and seeing the all-too-familiar lanterns hung on the trees made her want to tear it all down.

She said, “There’s no reason for you to stay, so why are you doing this? You barely know me!” It would be so easy to lie down and accept true death. Maybe if she were given another chance at life, she’d be dealt a better hand.

He replied, “I know enough to see something’s not right. Why are you giving up now? We have all the time in the world—why wouldn’t you even try?”

“I...” She trailed off, unable to speak. It was a question she barely knew the answer to. Because she was tired? What a stupid excuse, a mere symptom of the truth that weighed down on her. Barely able to focus on swerving around trees, she circled around the edge of the domain slowly. “Maybe the Gods meant for it.”

Cyg blinked in surprise. “What? You think they doomed you?” It was so absurd he could barely process it. “That’s no different than saying that Merry killed all those people by design! That the archmage lost to... free me!? Me, out of everyone?!” Someone whose only lasting mark on this world was lightening the pockets of others.

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“No, that’s not...”

He saw the expression on her face, the same kind of anxious dread when he spoke to her about discovering soul magic.

It was unmistakable.

“Why?” he blurted out, “Because... because you sacrificed me in a few loops?”

She turned her head, scowling to herself. “It wasn’t just you. With all those tries, I must’ve gotten more than a hundred people killed.” The timelines with the travelling noble and his entourage cost far more than Alicia ever expected. “There’re so many I can’t even keep track...!”

His words were caught in his throat. Briefly, he pictured the same scene that she had, a pile of bodies of everyone she led to their unwitting deaths, generously sprinkled with a dozen Cygs. “...It wasn’t your fault. You couldn’t have known.”

“What does my intent have to do with anything? The dead are dead.” Even if they were in worlds or times they could never bear witness to again.

The cart began to stop, but it wasn’t because Alicia decided it. By now, almost all of the mana in the basilisk blood had been spent, and what little was left delivered the two to a slow, squeaky halt. In the middle of the forest, they sat there, the apprentice unable to look at him in the eyes.

The thief took a deep breath, and then he said, “I killed Griff.”

“...Cyg—”

“I killed Griff because I fucked up, and when I get back home, I’ll tell everyone what happened, how he sacrificed himself to save me because of my greed, and I’ll accept whatever punishment they’ll give me—I’m going to do everything I can to try to make things right,” he began, his voice rising as he spoke, “I’m not going to run away, so don’t you dare sit there and wait for death to make things okay for you. If you feel bad for whom you killed, then you better live a long life, one where you save the same number of people. No, double—triple that! I remember you telling me that you couldn’t stomach what Merry was doing, so why are you saying this now? If you think she’s wrong, then use your healing magic and save as many as the witch would instead of dying here in this damn forest!”

He stood, breathing hard as he was more concerned with getting his words out than getting air in. The seconds stretched onto a full minute.

Alicia’s fists clenched. “You’re asking for the impossible.”

“I am.”

“...If an archmage lost to her, what hope would we have?”

“She could be a God, a star that fell from the night sky, and my answer would still be the same—I don’t care who she is,” he said, holding out his hand. “We have each other.”

“What are two nobodies going to do to a witch?”

He shrugged. “We have a million years to figure that out.”

“You’re insane. And even if you aren’t, we both will be sooner or later.”

“If it’s either that or being dead, I think I know which one I’m picking.”

“Even though you can leave right now?”

“And let you haunt me for the rest of my life? I don’t think so.”

“Wow.” She laughed. “Okay, you’ve got me. That is a compelling answer,” Alicia said, finally taking the hand he offered and standing up with him. “What’s the plan? We throw ourselves at her until we find something to exploit?”

“Maybe with a bit more grace, but more or less. We made it pretty far with that alone, haven’t we?”

Then, Merry cut in. “What a curious conversation you two are having.”

They turned their heads to see her sitting on a branch of a large tree, clearly having been there for a while. When the wind blew, it shook the leaves, billowed her dress, and clacked the marbles that hung from her hat. Her eyes were of steel and fury.

“That’s...” Alicia began to say.

“Why are you talking as if the two of you could come back to life?” She pushed off and landed with a feather’s descent.

This week was a dead end. Cyg and Alicia they squeezed each other’s hand and exchanged a quick glance.

“Ready?” the apprentice asked.

“As I’ll ever be.”

— ! —