[THE DAY MY DREAM DIED]

29 - Aground

— 29 —

Aground

//\\

Blood dripping between the bandages on her forearm, she watches him run. Even if she could've followed, she wouldn't have. Failure. She watches it happen again, helpless. And she turns away from it.

So the last child dies.

"When death is imminent..." she grinds her teeth, wincing at new pains, "self-abasement is a detriment."

And death is. Elineal will die by her hand or live by what she holds in it. Panacea pours.

It's out of my hands now...

Lise lets her head fall back, weary of life and the death immanent to it. To what end? The question is always there—answered, but never satisfied. Meaningless.

In this unreal atmosphere, she can feel the end as if it were real. The divide is diaphanous where it would be dense otherwise. Impassable, still, but no longer opaque.

She stares to the top of the tower.

\\//

Its appearance doesn't change as she slips into the undermind, but for the two shapes revealed above. Lise doesn't need the confirmation, however, as pain's disappearance is the more immediate. She stands. Even in sleep, I don't rest.

The blood is gone, the medicine box, sword, everything but the two of them. Lise almost doesn't notice at first—here, Elineal is sitting up, watching her. It startles her, though she supposes it shouldn't have. Elineal's lips move, but no sound escapes them. She waits for the woman's eyes to gain sharpness, an intent of some kind, but they just linger on her with dull inattention. Involuntary to an extent, it seems her gaze follows without thought.

'What... What are you saying?' She poses.

When she doesn't respond, she approaches slowly—trying and failing to catch her words. She tries to read what is spelled on her lips; it is illegible.

Lise draws her axe, rounding the kneeling woman, holding it ready as she places her other hand on her crown. A broken vessel. The fiends have done irreversible damage. Yet she is not gone, just in pieces.

What can I do? Even with the fiend gone... the fiend gone... She hesitates, feeling again. The fiend is gone. Something about that fact feels more pertinent than ever...

She looks to the door, following his path forward, then halting, backward. Oh... The realization hit her violently, sending her to the floor. One thing is blatantly clear to her now. Whatever fiends had been inside Elineal had abandoned her for Fiiso. There are still missing pieces and all her blind grasping isn't working. She has the what, but not the when or how.

Distinguishing the natural reaction to emotional distress from when the fiends' influence took hold is nigh impossible in such extreme circumstances. It requires extensive reflection, which requires time—something she does not have. I'm sorry Fiiso. I've failed you.