Chapter 35
Chapter thirty-five
I deserve this.
It was the first coherent thought to break through the waves of pain and memories that had been crashing over her since she put the undead warriors to flame.
Releasing the forbidden power and interfering so directly to save non-critical players just because she cared about them had crossed a line.
It was against the Rules. Saving the world was paramount, but interfering too much or for non-critical reasons could ultimately do more harm than good. And now, she was being punished.
I’d do it again. The thought rippled through her subconscious like a tightening fist. Why shouldn’t I have something for myself? Why couldn’t she save those important to her?
As if in answer, the tide surged again, dragging her under, deeper into the abyss of every life she’d ever lived.
Years she was never meant to remember tore open inside her, flooding past the fragile walls of her mind.
Blades flashing. Screams cut short. Her own body breaking over and over.
And worse—the faces of those she’d struck down, their eyes wide with terror, their blood warm in her mouth.
Yes, the Weaving had found her, claimed her, and made her its weapon…
but no hand of fate could wash away the ruin she had both endured and unleashed across millennia.
I deserve this.
The agony reminded her that the Missions had never been only a duty. They were penance. A reckoning for the death she’d left behind, for the worlds she had reduced to ash with her own hands.
“Rynna!” a voice called from the depths of the void, soft and feminine. “Rynna! Wake up!”
“Calli?” She tried to force her eyes open, but the effort unleashed torment beyond comprehension. The dull ache that had always haunted her erupted, bursting through like a dam breaking.
Her soul lay bare. If it could even be called that anymore—splintered, rotting, bleeding without end. Every fragment pulsed like an exposed nerve, raw and flayed open, unraveling in slow, merciless waves.
Is that me? The thought wavered, thin and unsteady. Near delirium, she couldn’t tell how much more she could withstand. Is that what waits beneath all the lives, all the versions of myself?
“Please, Rynna.” A different voice burst through the haze. “Please, don’t leave me. Not again.”
The sound pierced through her anguish, cutting deeper, and just like that, something in the foul remnants of her shattered soul stirred. Among the rot and decay, she saw one frayed end reach for another, as if, desperately, it still believed it could pull itself back together.
What? she wondered, even as insanity crept closer. But before it could claim her completely, the pain abruptly stopped. Or at least, it dulled, fading to a bearable ache, and the vision of her fractured soul vanished.
Cool relief seeped through her, a chilling balm revealing the truth of her existence.
The Weaving was binding the damage, holding it together just enough for her to move, to fight, to serve its Missions. But the wall was fragile. One breath, one misstep, and it could shatter, unleashing the full torment in a heartbeat.
Obedience was the price. Follow the Rules, or the Weaving would strip away even this small, merciless kindness. The amnesia was a reprieve, a thin Band-Aid covering the unspeakable damage to the very essence that made her, her. And it could all be taken away in a heartbeat.
I should be dead, at best, or insane, a monster to be put down.
She told herself she should feel grateful, proud of the work she was doing. I am, she insisted, forcing the words through the raw corners of her mind as she tested each shield in turn, searching for cracks, bracing herself to continue the Mission.
Her eyes fluttered open. Moonlight bled across a marshy clearing, silvering patches of dry earth where the water had pulled back, leaving the ground rough and split.
The swamp stretched toward the horizon, the far reaches bristling with shacks on stilts—ramshackle homes long abandoned, their skeleton frames sagging above the mire.
I guess they moved me. She tried to roll onto her side, but her body rebelled.
The woven tunic and leather vest cut into her shoulders, straps biting deep as if to pin her in place.
But at the scuffle sounding behind her, she fought to move, muscles jerking in useless twitches until, with effort, she managed to force her head around.
Kaelith knelt over Calli, his hands gripping her throat, desperation etched into every line of his face as the young woman writhed beneath him.
“Fix her!” he snarled. “Fix her, or I swear to all the Elements, I will destroy you!”
Rynna struggled to lift her hand, to tell him she was fine, but the most she could do was a slight, involuntary spasm.
“I—” Calli gasped, her fingers clawing at his wrists, and managed to twist an opening just big enough to suck in a gulp of air. “I don’t know how to save her, you freak! She’s…she’s empty. There’s no Source, no heartbeat. I don’t know what to do!” Her voice broke, tears streaking down her face.
“You lie!” His eyes blazed as he slapped her hard across the cheek, snapping the girl’s head to the side, as she choked back a sob.
“Rynna is my friend!” Calli slammed an open palm into Kaelith’s nose, sending him reeling, his grip loosening just enough for her to break free. She kicked off the ground with a grunt and shoved him backward with her forearm. “If I could save her, I would!”
“Guys…” Rynna croaked, her throat dry as sensation slowly returned to her body. “I’m…I’m fine.”
Calli and Kaelith froze mid-strike, fists suspended in the air. The tension of the clash lingered a beat before their heads turned, almost in unison, wide eyes fixing on her where she lay sprawled on the ground.
“Rynna?” He scrambled away from Calli, his legs buckling as he collapsed to his knees beside her, scooping her into his trembling arms.
“I thought…I thought…” His words fell lost as he cradled her gently, his hands frantically moving over her, checking every part of her body for injuries.
“I’m fine now,” she whispered, though the raw anguish in his eyes pierced her. What had it done to him when she vanished without a trace? The thought cut deep, harsher than the pain still throbbing in her own body.
“You were dead.” He pulled her tighter.
Never again, Rynna. Never again. His words fluttered through her thoughts with every shuddering thud of his heart.
For a moment, she gave in and let herself drown in his embrace, pressing her face into his chest. She’d promised herself focus, distance, discipline, but she couldn’t tear away. Not now. Not when the simple act of holding him felt worth every lash of pain the Weaving might demand in return.
Her fingers tightened at the nape of his neck as she burrowed closer, drawing in the scent of him—earthy, like wood split open under a storm’s wrath, cut with the crisp bite of night air.
“I’m sorry,” she started, but the word barely left her lips before his weight vanished. Something tore him away, and she dropped with a jolt, slamming against the ground where his body had been a heartbeat before.
“Get off her!” Calli’s voice rang out as she hauled Rynna into a sitting position, glaring at Kaelith, who lay sprawled on the ground beside them.
“Are you okay?” The young woman asked, her hands already moving over Rynna, checking her for damage as she rambled on. “He didn’t do anything to you, did he? I know his Source is locked down, but still. Great Phoenix! You were actually dead, you know? No heartbeat, no nothing.”
Rynna let her friend’s words blur into the background, her attention drifting to Kaelith. He sat a few paces away, looking disheveled and a little lost, a flicker of hurt crossing his face at Calli’s sudden interruption.
But when his eyes met hers, something changed.
She wasn’t sure what her expression held—she was still reeling from the punishment that had just passed inside her—but whatever he saw, it wasn’t what he’d expected.
His features eased, the tight lines softening, and the annoyance melted into something else, something startlingly warm.
A smile tugged at his lips, one she hadn’t seen on him since…
Since he told me he loved me, by the sacred spring, under the rising moon.
The memory hit her like a punch to the gut. Her eyes flicked upward to the sky, where the same moon now hung high above them, casting its glimmering light over the clearing.
Kaelith followed her line of sight, and his smile bloomed brighter as recognition dawned. He knew what she was thinking, what she was remembering. His eyes sparkled with a sudden gleam, and his lips curved into something playful, the edge of his mouth quirking up just so.
And another memory flashed through her mind. The grassy glade behind the spring, and the way she’d shown him how she felt in the only way she could, since the words had failed her.
Her cheeks flushed hot, and she quickly turned back to Calli. “I’m fine, I promise.”
“If you say so,” Calli replied, her lips pressing into a thin line.
“We should probably get going.” Rynna turned, catching the muted light of dawn stretching across the horizon. The sky was beginning to pale, a gentle glow chasing away the darkness. “There should be enough light to start walking, at least.”
Calli glanced around, extending a hand down to Rynna, then pulled her to her feet. “Yeah, things are bad for the Third. We need to do something about these dead hollow-born.”
“Is that why you’re here?” She winced as she worked out the kinks in her back and neck, rotating her shoulders with a groan. “Do you know about Skarn?”
“I only know I’m supposed to find him. That’s why they sent me.” Calli began walking, carrying both her and Rynna’s packs.
“And how exactly do you plan on finding my former apprentice?” Kaelith stepped in beside them, slipping Rynna’s pack from Calli’s grasp and shouldering it himself with quiet ease.