“Colette… D-Do you think I’m a good person?”

The two were winding down for the day, the Archmage helping to dry Malori’s hair. She could see Colette’s completely bewildered face in the mirror. The towel stopped its motion as her friend tilted her head.

“Malori, are you alright?”

The girl winced. Gods she was terrible at subtlety. She gripped the nightgown she’d been lended, soft fabric bunching up in her lap.

“I… I don’t know. I j-just feel selfish,” she murmured, shifting her feet. “E-Everyone else is out there fighting, and I’m… here.”

Colette frowned, removing the towel. She stepped around the cushioned bench and sat down next to Malori, placing a hand on hers. The little esper almost whimpered at the touch. It was so caring, the weight resting gently on her shaking hands. It felt better than she deserved. A lump began forming in her throat as she looked away. Despite how many times Colette had seen her cry, it felt different now. She didn’t want her to see.

“I’m here, Malori,” she said softly, “If you want to say what’s wrong, there’s no need to rush. Just take your time. The words will come.”

Her stomach twisted in knots.

You don’t deserve to hear that.

Malori’s breath caught, her entire body going rigid.

“Malori? What’s wrong?”

Tears pricked at her eyes. She squeezed them shut. She’d been with Colette for so long now, and she still felt like this. Maybe that was why she felt like this. She tried to think. In her novels, what things would they say at a time like this? When the character felt unsure of themselves, what did they–

“Malori?”

The little esper looked up at Colette. Her voice was still soft, but there was a sternness to it. It wasn’t angry, or rude. The concerned look in her eyes and emotions coming from her told her that much. Colette wanted to pull her from her thoughts.

“Are you thinking about books? Situations like this?”

Malori averted her eyes. Was Colette really not reading her emotions? Were her habits that obvious? She wanted to deny it, tell her friend that she was just deep in thought. Not a lie, but a bending of the truth. When she saw that look in her eyes though, she couldn’t. She’d already shared so much with Colette, and in turn, the Archmage had given her so much. More than she ever could have asked for. The least she could do was continue being honest. She nodded.

Colette sighed, giving the girl’s hand a gentle squeeze. “I figured. You said that books have been your solace, haven’t they?”

She nodded again.

“There are definitely worse places to find a refuge. I’ve known my fair share of vices,” Colette sighed, rubbing Malori’s hand with her thumb. “But I’ve learned that they can’t be a substitute for the real thing. Those stories you read, I’m grateful to them. They made you feel like you had a safe place to go. They still do. Not everything can be like them, though.”

Malori furrowed her brow. She looked up at Colette, confused. The woman smiled.

“You aren’t a character in your favorite book, Malori. You’re you. Your story is your own. Their actions can’t replace yours,” Colette said, “So right now, forget what the characters you like have done. What do you want to do?”

She stared at her lap, heart pounding as she tried to wrap her head around the words. There wasn’t a clue in her mind as to what she wanted to do. Everything was confusing, overwhelming, terrifying. Her heart said ‘I want to go home,’ but how was she supposed to do that when she’d never even had one before? Here was supposed to be home, but she was still scared. What if she didn’t deserve her home? She squeezed her eyes shut again, like she could hide from the thoughts. That had never been an option though, had it?

Her thoughts would always follow her wherever she went. There was no escaping her own brain. She slowly opened her eyes, looking down at the hand that rested on hers. A few stray tears had landed on it, but it didn’t move. Colette didn’t say a word.

“Colette, I-I don’t think I deserve you,” she said. She could feel her friend moving to respond, but she continued. “I mean I don’t th-think I deserve you. I don’t know h-how many times other people have told me I was worthless, o-or even when I started believing them. All I’ve ever wanted was a home, a p-place where I could feel loved, yet every part of me tells me that I d-don’t deserve anything of the sort.”

Tears were beginning to flow freely. She didn’t sob, or feel herself shaking. The tears were simply there. Just like they had so many times before.

“H-How am I supposed to look for that when some f-fundamental, some broken part of me is so utterly convinced that I should n-never have it?”

“Oh, Malori…”

Such a simple two words, yet it took everything in Malori’s power not to be reduced to a mess by them.

“I’ve been a devout of C-Carys ever since I left. When I learned h-healing magic, I tried to help as many people as I could. I prayed every night, I-I devoted myself completely to her. I… I just hoped…” the tears were becoming too much. She leaned her head against Colette’s shoulder. The Archmage was so warm. She never wanted to leave.

“Colette, I hate myself,” she said. It was the first time she’d ever said it out loud.

Colette’s arm wrapped around her, squeezing her close as she tried to keep more tears from falling. They weren’t going to stop anytime soon.

“I hate myself. I have for as long as I can remember. I feel like a burden, and what few people have actually given me any form of a chance either forget about me or get tired of me. It happened with Father Alig, it happened with Ingrid and Alice, I’m scared it’s going to happen with you too–”

“It won’t.”

Malori stopped. She looked up at Colette, surprised to see nothing but stone cold determination on her face.

“It won’t,” she repeated, turning herself to face Malori. “You already know my thoughts on the people who have hurt you. I’ve already said it so many times, but I’ll say it as many times as it takes. Malori, I am not going anywhere. Even if you don’t believe me, I will keep doing whatever I can to prove it. I promise.”

A small rasp came from Malori’s throat as she tried to respond. Nothing made it out. How many conversations had gone like this? She said something stupid, Colette comforted her with grand words, she cried, and they fell asleep in each other's arms. Surely it was tiring. Why wouldn’t she get exhausted? They hadn’t even known each other for very long. Yet something in her found truth in the words.

“...You promise?” she murmured.

Colette smiled. “Cross my heart and hope to die.”

“Please don’t die, I-I care about you.”

“Of course. I’m sorry.”

“You don’t need to a-apologize.”

“I still think it feels right. Do you want to share my bed tonight too? I can stroke your hair until you fall asleep again.”

“...Y-Yes please.”

Combat was much harder when trying to fight off an immeasurable desire to take a break and examine the enemy’s weapon. Every clash of the glaive against Berith’s gauntlets served to enamor him even more. It made him almost sad he had to leave the woman with the Amaltheans. Gods, what he would have done to get her on an operating table and see just what the hell was going on with her. Where did her incredible strength come from? The Amalthean King’s came from extensive magical enhancements. Something told him that this wasn’t the case for Kallen. And yet here she was, smashing through solid stone and blocking his attacks like it was nothing. More than anything though, the glaive fascinated him.

His gauntlets were nearly indestructible, his masterpiece almost as incredible as Twilight. He’d been using them for nearly two hundred years at this point, fighting all the while. There were enemies that were challenging, even beat him, yet not a single one had left marks in them. The magical liquid repaired itself almost instantly. No lasting damage was dealt. After all, it wasn’t exactly easy to physically damage a liquid. It wasn’t lost on him that each strike of the glaive left a small gash in the inky gauntlets. The glaive was magical, he was certain of it. He grinned. Understatement of the decade.

He blocked another strike with his forearm, trying not to wince at the impact. Even if there wasn’t damage, the force of the blow still certainly hurt. She dodged another swipe, whirling to kick him in the chest. He was sent flying back into a wall, coughing as it cracked under the impact. He ducked down. Wind rushed over his head as Kallen’s glaive slammed the wall where it had been.

Grabbing the glaive, he pulled himself towards her. She didn’t have time to dodge. His claws sliced into her stomach, shredding flesh as it made contact. It didn’t phase her. Twisting the glaive in his hand, she forced the shaft upwards. His own hand became a fulcrum as she ran the blade down his back. It easily shaved through his armor, a sheet of skin coming with it. Not major damage, but painful. She’d managed to leave a few cuts and scars on him otherwise, but still, she struggled to strike a decisive blow. Berith on the other hand had made several. A deep stab into her shoulder, gashes in her stomach, a hefty slash across her thigh, broken ribs, a shattered ankle. None seemed to slow her down very much. She fought with the same vigor as when she’d started, like pain wasn’t even something she could feel. Blood ran down his back. This woman was a damn marvel.

Lilith’s screams and explosions continued to drown out most other noise, save for the destruction they caused. As much as he hated her, she was impressive. Natalia had proven to be an annoyance for him, her flight making it difficult to deal with her. As soon as the illian saw her though, she’d gone feral, barely putting any thought into her actions. It made it fairly easy to kill her. A shame. He would’ve liked to study more of her physiology.

Alice was becoming an issue for his sister. Despite being mentally in shambles, she still managed to gather enough strength to fight. She was sloppy though. The quick movements that had allowed her to catch Alviss off guard in the camp were no longer there, her reckless and desperate movements propped up by her newfound teleportation. If he’d known Mattias could make something like that, he’d have tried to recruit the boy. Nevertheless, the other dark elf was occupying much of his sister’s attention. She couldn’t turn her focus to Ingrid and Mattias completely, lest Alice appear in her blindspot and deliver a potentially fatal blow. Lilith could take an incredible amount of punishment, but a knife to the brain stem was a knife to the brain stem.

“Lilith!” he called out cheerfully. After centuries of fighting together, she didn’t even hesitate.

She slammed a foot down. Alice teleported away, narrowly avoiding the short-range explosion. Turning to Berith, she snapped with both hands, twin waves of sonic energy erupting from both of them. Berith held his arms out, letting his gauntlets absorb the vibrations. Kallen leapt out of the way before the blasts could turn her into paste. She stood ready on the outside of the waves, unwilling to risk passing through.

Berith grinned. His teeth chattered from the vibration. A little too far to either side and he’d probably lose an arm. He could already hear Lilith returning to her own fight as the waves subsided. Not even half a second. He launched himself towards Kallen, fist raised. She raised her glaive to block. The blade connected with his fist. Rather than being held in place by Kallen’s strength, it bucked back, slipping from her hand and hitting her right above the eye. Berith felt bone break as his fist slammed into her collarbone. She hit the ground.

Narrowly rolling out of the way before he clawed her eyes out, Kallen swung the glaive up as she rose to a standing position. She favored her uninjured arm too much. She managed to keep her grip as Berith blocked it with his left hand, but it still left her off balance.

Checkmate.

He thrust his claws forward, aiming to tear out her throat. Mattias appeared next to her. Then they were gone. His gauntlet slammed into the wall, shattering the bricks. His arms were starting to feel normal again. The vibrations were fading.

Looking out at the fight, he evaluated. Mattias was dropping Kallen off behind a broken pillar. Alice was keeping Lilith on her toes. Ingrid was hiding on a balcony. No one gave a shit about Malori.

The narrative has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the infringement.

“Lilith! There!” he pointed at the pillar Mattias and Kallen were behind. His sister whirled around, giving a brief, guttural shout. He sprinted forward as the shout reduced everything in its path to rubble. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Mattias and Kallen materialize. Perfect.

Ingrid wasn’t fast enough to dodge him as he leapt up, slamming a knee into her chest. The bluewood armor held strong, but she gasped as the wind was knocked from her. Not giving her a chance to move, he wrapped his hand around her neck, the pointed thumb of his gauntlet directly on her throat. She struggled against his grip, but was unable to do anything as he lifted her up.

“Mattias! Adelheidis! Yoo-hoo!” he chimed, holding up the gasping elf for them to see. Both of them froze. Alice raised the obsidian knife. “Hey, careful. Kallen knows how sharp these things are. All I have to do is apply pressure, and voila! Pop goes the druid.”

“You piece of shit!” Alice spat, clutching her knives. Even after being exposed, she’d still refused to use magic. Berith had to admire the dedication.

“Hey, you guys are the ones who decided to get violent,” he chuckled, rubbing the point of his thumb along Ingrid’s throat. “I was perfectly content to talk your ears off and buy time. Of course, your feral angel came in here screaming like a psychopath, and we had to respond. Look how that went for her.”

Mattias gritted his teeth. “What the hell do you want!” he shouted, “I don’t get it! Why get close to me? Why hang out here doing nothing? Why play with your food and act like a dick about it?”

A wide smile spread across Berith’s face. “Because, kid, Moloch hired me to make plans. So I made one.”

Ingrid’s look of anger turned to one of horror. She was putting the pieces together. She did seem like a bright girl from what he knew.

“The fuck is that supposed to mean?” Alice grimaced, nursing wounds and places that hadn’t been fully clear of Lilith’s attacks before teleporting.

“It means I did my job. See, the original plan when you started poking around was to lure you into the research site, have Mattias bring you back here, we stall while Moloch kills the prince, and then we capture you to pin it on Cordelia. After all, we have a druidic assailant within our castle walls, don’t we?”

He shook Ingrid side to side for a moment, laughing as she yelped. “A gamble? Yeah, but one we could make. I gotta give it to you, you guys make one hell of a wrench.”

The room went quiet. Lilith brushed dust from her armor and cape, checking wounds to see how bad they were. Berith could still feel blood seeping from his own series of injuries. Mattias looked down at his hands, a look of horror on his face. He was a crucial part in all of this. The most crucial, now that Berith thought about it. If Mattias didn’t let his curiosity get the better of him, then maybe the plan would have slipped through. Natalia would still be alive, and wouldn’t have kicked everything into motion. Berith was fairly certain he should have felt invigorated by such a look, but the fatigue from his injuries and the fight were clearly getting to him. All he was pleased with was a job well done.

“Then why the fuck go through your stupid detective game then?” Alice growled. She was staring at the ground, shaking hands clenched around her daggers. “You said it took favors. Time. Why go out of your way to fuck me over?”

Because you nearly killed Alviss, you sack of shit.

He didn’t let the intrusive thought take control. His grin changed from confident to gentle as he leaned against the railing. Ingrid tried to speak. He squeezed harder.

“Simple, dear little Adelheidis. You were a problem that needed solving. Fortunately, you had so many secrets to dig into that once we found them all, it was like a buffet! You lie about nearly everything don’t you?”

She gritted her teeth. She didn’t say anything.

He was glad she’d learned her place. “With all of those lies upon lies, who knows what else you could be hidi–”

The sentence was interrupted by a gut wrenching scream.

None of it felt real. Even as she cried out towards Kallen with more desperation than she’d ever felt before, it still wasn’t real. It wasn’t real because to be real, she had to be there, and she wasn’t. If she was there, she could do something. If she was there, then Kallen would listen when she begged with all of her heart for her to leave Colette alone. If she was there, then Colette would be okay.

But she wasn’t there.

She wasn’t there, so she was still on the ground next to a pillar. She wasn’t there, so Kallen didn’t listen to a single word she said. She wasn’t there, so she stared into Colette’s sad, apologetic eyes as her face contorted with pain. The glaive sliced into her chest, a splash of blood splattering against a nearby pillar as the Archmage collapsed to the ground. Kallen raised her glaive to strike again, only to be sent flying into the wall by a kick from Berith. He cast the briefest of glances at Malori before rushing off to continue his bout with Kallen.

The little esper blinked, staring at the puddle of blood building around Colette. A pathetic sob escaped her throat. Then another, and another. She scrambled to her feet, feeling lightheaded As she started to make her way over to her friend’s prone form. Her hands shot to her ears as another explosion came from Lilith. The explosions, the shifting of stone, the sound of clashing metal, it was so deafening she could barely think. She let out a shriek as a blast of concentrated sound gouged into the floor where she had been seconds prior. Her sobs reached a new crescendo as she hurried to Colette’s side, panic fueling every step.

There was an audible splash as she fell to her knees alongside Colette, blood staining her clothes. She frantically grabbed the bloody grimoire. The erstonite stone. It was just like Adonis. It was a recent injury, she’d healed things like this before. She tried to steady her breathing, but it only came out in desperate sobs and whines. Clutching the grimoire to her chest, she felt her magic connect to the erstonite. It was a shaky connection, but she didn’t have time to be picky. She placed a hand on Colette’s stomach, letting pulses of magic flow through her body. Nothing substantial. She needed a picture of what happened. There was so much blood. The Archmage’s robes stuck to the wound, and removing them would take tools she didn’t have. Ever so slowly, a picture began to form in Malori’s mind of the damage. Kallen’s blade had sliced cleanly through the front of Colette’s ribcage and sternum. Her lungs were nearly cut in half. By some miracle, the blade didn’t directly hit her heart, but it was by no means good.

A quiet groan forced Malori’s eyes open. She looked down. Colette was staring at her, a mix of pain and fear on her face. Malori’s heart pounded.

“S-S-Stay here! Stay awake!” she cried between sobs, fumbling again with the grimoire. Colette tried to say something, but it only came out as choked gargling. Her lungs were filling with blood. Most of her throat probably was too. “Please don’t talk! P-Please don’t. Save your energy. I-I-I’ll have you fixed in a moment! Oh gods please help me…”

Magic flowed through Colette’s body, marking key blood vessels and nerves that needed to be mended, ready to stitch them back together. She closed her eyes again. She couldn’t look. Even if she could focus with her eyes open, the sight was too much. Ingrid was the first person she had called a friend. Colette was the first person who felt like she was a friend. Her first true friend, on the ground, soaked by and drowning in her own blood. The Archmage’s terrified face burned itself into Malori’s brain, the image of blood covering her chin and nose promising to never leave. She took another shaky breath, laced with sobs. She didn’t want to let Colette die.

Oh gods she didn’t want her to die.

Malori gathered every tiny bit of her own magic that she could, urging, pleading with Colette’s dying form to heal itself. She poured everything she possibly could into her healing, yet none of it took hold. It was like crossing a ravine. Rather than winding up on the other side, her magic careened into nothingness. The hand on Colette’s stomach was sticky with blood. Panic began to take hold as she pushed harder, begging her magic to go further and cross the ravine. It refused to listen. She squeezed the grimoire tighter, until she could feel the erstonite digging into her chest. The magic continued to refuse. Even as she slammed the book to the ground, tearing the erstonite from its binding to clutch it directly to her chest, not even a fragment of the magic would take hold in Colette. The magic itself seemed to refuse.

“No… No no no no no please!” she cried. Magic poured out of her, every ounce of energy being spent. She could barely understand her own words through her sobs. Nothing worked. The bleeding wouldn’t stop. Even if she could bandage it, the lungs would still fill with blood. The broken ends of her ribs would dig in, causing more damage. What was she supposed to do? Could she even do anything? She wailed in despair. “Someone help her!”

It wasn’t real. She wasn’t here. She begged everyone, anyone to save the first person who’d ever cared about her. Kallen and Berith were occupied with each other, the dark elf having the upper hand and pushing her back. Blood seeped through a dozen different wounds, but Kallen didn’t flinch. Ingrid, Alice, and who she could only assume was Mattias continued avoiding Lilith’s attacks, teleportation being the only reason either were still alive. Natalia was dead.

No one was going to help.

Not for her.

She wasn’t here.

Another gasping sob escaped her throat as she looked down at her dying friend. “I-I’m so s-sorry,” she choked, pulling Colette into a hug. Her clothes and hands were covered in the Archmage’s blood. Too much. “I’m so–”

A hand ran its fingers through her hair. Malori separated with a start, careful not to drop the woman. It was Colette’s hand. Even with blood caked on her face, her smile was still luminous as ever. Her hand felt so gentle, carefully running her fingers through and separating the clumps stuck together with blood.

It’s okay, Colette spoke into her head.

Malori’s face contorted in horror. Colette knew she was dying. Colette was dying.

I promised I’d m-make sure you were okay, her voice was too calm in the telepathy. If she tried to speak out loud, she doubted she’d be able to get a single word out. I-I’m so sorry…

Malori, it’s okay, her smile brightened. I told you that every apology you gave, I’d be happy to forgive you. That will never change.

I-I don’t want you to die…

Malori? her voice went from calm to slightly afraid. It still felt like a muted reaction.

What, what is it?

Colette frowned. I… I don’t think this is something I can say with words. There’s too much there.

Why not? Colette, w-what are you talking about?

Malori, will you let me in?

The meaning was clear. Another sob escaped her throat. She lowered her mental walls, opening herself to Colette’s mind. The action that had driven caretakers insane. The one that had stunned Berith long enough to escape. Releasing such feelings onto Colette was beyond terrifying. It was scary, but with Colette, it felt okay. She could do it. Her mind linked to her friend’s and she could feel her mind probing through, examining what was there.

Colette’s smile returned. Malori… You’re beautiful…

W-Wha–

Her thought was cut off by a flood of emotion pouring into her head. It was like an entire landscape was laid out before her. The feelings, they were ones that she knew. Colette’s mind was laid bare before her, inviting and welcoming her in. Fears, hopes, joy, sadness, all of them stood proudly for her to look and feel through. She’d read their surfaces, time spent with Colette giving her an outline to trace of each of them. For the first time, she saw the true depth of each emotion. Memories played out before her, residual feelings from notable moments in her life spilling into Malori’s ravaged and broken mind, so overwhelmed with fear and self-hatred that she didn’t even know she could foster emotions like these. Yet she felt them. She felt them and understood them.

Her eyes closed as she and Colette exchanged information, memories, rapid fire in the pitiful few moments before the Archmage would inevitably bleed out. Colette had called her beautiful, and she had meant it. Colette was beautiful.

Colette, I-I don’t–

Hush, Malori, her voice was serene, Keep looking.

She listened. Her mind probed further, following the loose trail of thoughts tied to what Colette was urging her towards. She found herself before something small, something new. It was small and new, but it was nurtured, encouraged and protected with the utmost care. It didn’t come close to the monolithic emotions built up from a lifetime of experience, and yet the others felt like they paled in comparison. They were nothing compared to this tiny, ever growing feeling. It grew even as she inspected it from the outside, more and more power being lent with every passing moment. She reached out and touched the feeling, a desire to understand urging her on.

Love.

It wasn’t an emotion she’d felt from Colette before. It had laid tucked in the back of her mind, the other thoughts and feelings acting as its shield until it was ready to show itself. Not something that could be read by mere surface understanding of Colette’s mind. But it was love. Pure, innocent, yearning, genuine romantic love. It was for her. Her eyes opened, gazing in awe at Colette. It felt so surreal that it looped around to being more real than anything she’d ever felt before.

Y-You’re in love with me… she said. There was no room for lying. Emotions laid so unbelievably bare couldn’t possibly fake affection so powerful it nearly knocked her over.

Colette smiled, looking truly joyful even with her blood stained teeth. I’m sorry for hiding it from you. You were so stressed and scared, I was worried it would add even more pressure.

W-Why now?

The smile turned to one of melancholy. I don’t think I could have forgiven myself if I didn’t.

Malori’s heart ached. She knew why. That was always how it went in her books. Princess Cassandra cradling the dying form of Cornelia as she confessed her love, throwing inhibitions and reason aside as the light faded from her eyes. In the book, Cassandra kissed her. She kissed her, and Carys saw them. Cornelia’s wounds closed, they embraced, and they lived happily ever after, with an extravagant wedding and kids.

It was more an act of desperation than anything. She bent down, placing her lips against Colette’s. The Archmage’s hand gently cupped her cheek. Her lips were softer than she’d ever imagined someone else’s being. So many thoughts and fantasies of being swept off her feet and kissed like she was the most important person in the world.

I love you, Malori, with all of my heart.

Malori wanted to respond. She had to say something. She parsed through so many words and thoughts it made her motion sick. What could she say? How was she supposed to say it?

She didn’t have the chance to as she felt the link separate. It wasn’t the quick, sharp detachment she’d grown used to. Instead, it was an unsteady grip. Trying to hold onto something as it slowly, inevitably slipped from her fingers until it was gone. Colette’s hand fell from her cheek, splashing limply into her own blood. Malori pulled away from the kiss. She could still taste the blood.

Her friend’s eyes were half-lidded. There was no light behind them. No breath. She didn’t need to check for a pulse. Tears welled in her eyes as her lip began to quiver. Her entire body began to shake. She screamed. She screamed with all of her breath and all of her heart with the same vigor with which Colette confessed her love. The scream was pained. It tore her throat like she was coughing up razor blades. She didn’t care. The pain was nothing. She screamed and she kept screaming.

The girl that felt like home had broken her promise, and so did she.