The Light rages and seethes, and O’ravi’s control of it cracks. Just a little.
It yearns to be free. Her body is too small a vessel for its radiance. It sears every part of her and shoves with all its might against the walls of her hardening skin, an ocean held back by the frailest mortal dam.
She will not yield – not yet – but she is powerless to stop the Light’s advance. Across her body, her skin splits, and Light bleeds into her clothes. It spills from her mouth, her nose, even her ears. She heaves, hacking up still more, and something in her chest snaps and splinters, sparking across her ribcage.
There is nothing she can do but grit her teeth and wait for it to recede. And when at last it does, through the fading haze, she becomes dimly aware of a voice and a figure kneeling in front of her. A hand and handkerchief trying to clean up her bloodstained face to absolutely no avail. She would laugh at the absurdity, but she chokes instead and triggers the longest and most eye-watering coughing fit.
When it’s over, Rian reaches out to hold her head in his hands. “Are you alright?” he asks. His voice is small and wavers like a child’s. It still sounds wrong, to hear him so afraid. He's never this afraid—at least not openly.
What a stupid fucking question, she wants to say, but she doesn’t. She waits until she’s sure she won’t choke, then raises her head.
Rian’s eyes are wide, and his touch, while gentle, is uncertain. Unsteady.
“We’re running out of time,” O’ravi says.
“Bells, not days.” She could say more, but for his sake, she won't.
He turns away, eyes squeezed shut, and she does him the kindness of looking elsewhere while he struggles to keep his composure.
“Then we’d best get going,” he says quietly, resigned. “The others must be wondering where we are.” He gets up and gathers the weapons lying uselessly in the sand – his sword and shield, and Shattered Heart – and all is silent save for his steps. She watches with a blank stare.
If she does not die today, she will die tomorrow, like as not. And he has to know this – he is a healer, and he knows full well when someone is too far gone, as she is – but to hear it out loud would break something in him. So she holds her tongue.
Wordlessly, he returns Shattered Heart to its place upon her back, and helps her stand. Keeps her steady while the world seems to sway around her. It’s wretched, this state she’s in—in her mind she strings together apology after apology. But there’s no point in speaking them. There’s nothing left to say or discuss that they haven’t already talked about a dozen times already, and his answer to all of it remains the same, regardless.
“My place is at your side. No matter what.”
It’s only fitting, isn’t it? They began this journey as adventurers and as Scions together, and he will be with her at her journey’s end. For better or worse. But how will he carry on when she is gone? How is he meant to do alone what they have always done together? Unless—
“I’m fine,” she replies automatically.
It’s bullshit, and he knows it, but he doesn’t pry. He just brushes the hair out of her eyes. “Ready when you are.”
She nods and pulls away from him enough that she’s standing without his help to balance her, but she doesn’t let go of his hand. He doesn’t let go, either.
