Though the blizzard was gone, the cold remained. It was a deep, penetrating chill, as severe as the first day he had set foot on this mountain. As they climbed higher, the altitude made the air thinner and the cold more biting. The worst part now was not the cold itself, but the fact that Lucid was no longer alone. He was responsible for more than just his own life. There were two lives in his care now, not counting Alice. Ayame seemed strong, resilient in a way that defied her current slender frame, but he hated the idea that someone else might become entangled in his troubles and pay the ultimate price.
Having a companion stirred up bad memories from his time on Earth. It never ended well specially his first encounter with the rifts. His experience here in the other world was no different, the Omega Rift was a grim testament to that pattern. During his time in Karmen's body, he had been accompanied by his older brother, Lyle, who had died more times than Lucid cared to recall. A maid who helped him craft the perfect antidote for the Withering had died in his hands. Lucid felt like a death sentence for anyone who traveled beside him.
He much preferred a companion like Alice, who resided within his mind. That was a bond without physical risk. If he died, Alice would be affected, but at least they would share the same ending. He would not have to watch her die and live with the guilt that it could have been avoided.
Yet, there was Ayame. Though her stature was now small, a full head shorter than him, a stark contrast to the tall, elegant woman who had embraced him in his sleep. He could not help shaking a lingering worry that something would go wrong. He had found her dying in the snow, nearly killed by a mountain wolf. What if she was not as strong as she appeared?
"You are uneasy," Ayame stated from just behind him. Her voice was flat, an observation of fact.
He flicked slightly, jumping at her sudden words. "Yeah," he admitted, trying to divert her attention. "We have passed into the red zone."
He gestured around them. The snow underfoot was now coated in a rich, rusty red pigment. It was an eyesore, a reflective crimson that stained the landscape. The further he looked, the more the world was bathed in the unsettling hue. The red ground reflected the ambient light, enveloping their surroundings in a bloody glow. Even the clouds overhead had taken on a faint reddish tinge, though the sun had been visible for only a moment.
"The Red Mountains," Lucid explained, his voice low. "The fallen who reside here usually go berserk. That is because of the strange dust from the twin moons above."
Ayame did not reply. She only listened to him, a silent shadow at his back.
"Hope we do not run into anything," he said, more to himself than to her, a nervous edge to his words.
Alice spoke within him, her tone dry. "Each time you have said that, we have only gotten ourselves into deeper danger. I suppose we should get ready now."
Lucid chuckled weakly. Alice was right.
"If something meets us," Ayame said, her voice cutting through his thoughts with absolute certainty, "I will kill it. Stay behind me when that happens."
Her confidence was something to behold. There was not a hint of second-guessing, no beating around the bush. She truly said exactly what was on her mind.
"You, you do not have a weapon," Lucid pointed out, turning to look at her.
Ayame seemed to consider this, looking down at her empty hands. Her amnesia clouded much, but she could remember key details about herself. "A weapon? My body is my weapon. I do not need one."
"You what?" Lucid stopped in front of her and approached, looking down at her petite frame. It was truly a sight to behold, this small figure declaring herself a weapon. "Here."
He unsheathed a dagger from his belt, the one he had used to start the fire and prepare tinder. It was a simple blade with a circular pommel featuring a faint, etched symbol that resembled a hat. He had found it during an earlier, unpleasant mission in the sewers beneath Tyriana.
Ayame took the blade. She held it, turning it over in her hands, inspecting it with a focused intensity. She winced slightly, her brows drawing together.
"Where did you find this?" she asked. It was the first question she had posed out of her own curiosity.
"Uh, I bought it for five gold. It is a worthy family heirloom of mine. Do not break it," he joked, trying to lighten the mood.
Ayame looked at him, not laughing, but her dark eyes softened a fraction though she did not buy his story.
"Not much of a talker, huh? Well, at least you beat Alice in that regard."
"Lucid," Alice's voice sounded, genuinely hurt inside his mind. He felt a twinge of remorse, but it was fleeting.
"I just found it one day, randomly, while walking in a sewer," he admitted, though even that sounded unbelievable.
"I see," Ayame said. She looked at the dagger, then back at him. "Thank you." It was the first time she had thanked him for anything. The words were simple, but they carried a weight that surprised him.
"You are welcome," he stammered.
Now the entire world was painted in varying shades of red. They passed between two jagged peaks, the mountains rising like broken teeth around them. Lucid felt a deep unease settling in his bones. He knew, with a traveler's intuition, that something was bound to intercept them.
Following the map he held was becoming difficult. With everything tinged in crimson and no discerning shapes or landmarks to differentiate one red slope from another, it was nearly impossible to orient himself. He was navigating by instinct and old experience, the kind forged in desperate situations long ago.
The terrain grew more arduous. They reached a steep, rocky ledge. Lucid climbed up first, then turned and extended a hand down to Ayame. She looked at his hand, then simply leapt, her movements fluid and effortless. She caught his hand in mid-air.
Lucid grunted, gritting his teeth as he put all his strength into hauling her up. She was far heavier than her slender frame suggested, a density of muscle and bone that felt like lifting solid stone.
"Nnngh!" He managed to pull her up, but the momentum sent them both tumbling onto the ledge, Ayame landing partially on top of him.
"So heavy," he muttered under his breath, the air knocked from his lungs.
Ayame pushed herself up, looking down at him with a confused expression. "What?"
"Nothing," Lucid said quickly, staggering to his feet and offering a hand to help her up. "I just lost my footing."
She took his hand, her grip firm and cool. As they stood, they surveyed the path ahead. They were moving through a field of jagged peaks now, the terrain deformed and hostile. Sharp rocks protruded from the ground like miniature crimson mountains of their own. The red dust coated everything, and the clouds above seemed to press down, suffocating and close. What had looked manageable from the open grass fields below Tyriana now appeared vast, imposing, and deeply alien.
Lucid adjusted his pack, feeling the weight of the environment and his new responsibility. Ayame stood beside him, the borrowed dagger now tucked into her belt. She looked at the crimson wasteland, then at Lucid's mist-shrouded profile.
"This place is wrong," she stated.
"I know," Lucid replied. "But we have to cross it. The Sky-Dock is on the other side."
"Then we cross it," Ayame said, as if it were that simple. She took a step forward, positioning herself slightly ahead of him, a silent insistence on leading the way. Her earlier vow hung unspoken in the red-tinged air between them. She would protect him. It was, to her, the most logical course of action.
"Wait!"
The ground gave way with a sickening, silent collapse. A slab of snow and loose, red-stained earth crumbled inward, plummeting into a deep, shadowed abyss that opened like a maw in the mountainside. The hole was jagged and deep, vanishing into darkness far below.
Ayame stumbled back, colliding with Lucid's chest. He wrapped his arms around her to steady them both, his heart hammering against his ribs.
"Careful," he breathed, the word tight with adrenaline. "The terrain is not even. It looks safe, but there are many traps like this." He stared at the newly revealed pit, a void in the crimson landscape. "What an alien and terrible place," he muttered, more to himself than to her.
He realized then that Ayame was not pulling away. She was rigid in his grasp. One of her hands had come up and was clutching the front of his shirt, her fingers gripping the fabric with a surprising, painful strength right over his sternum.
"Ouch," Lucid grunted, the pinch sharp. "You are, ah, kind of pinching me."
Had the near-fall frightened her? He could not tell. This journey he was forcing her on was not kind. It was harsh and deadly. A wave of guilt washed over him, cold and heavy. He seriously reconsidered bringing her along. The thought of signaling the pendant Karmen had given him, calling for some form of rescue to take her away to safety, flickered in his mind.
He looked down at her, intending to suggest it.
The sight stole his breath.
Her face, usually so pale and placid, was transformed. Thick, dark veins stood out along her temple and the side of her neck, pulsing visibly. Her eyes, once pools of bottomless black, were now a blazing, bloodshot crimson. Her lips were drawn back in a silent snarl, revealing the sharp points of her slightly elongated canines. It was a visage of pure, predatory fury, but the fury seemed directed inward, at some unseen horror.
Lucid felt a primal fear lance through him. "Ayame?" he said her name, his voice barely a whisper, laced with confusion and dread.
"I... I remember," she managed, the words forced out through clenched teeth. Her breaths came in short, ragged gasps. She was trembling, a fine, constant vibration that Lucid could feel through her grip on his shirt. That grip tightened, pulling him closer until her forehead pressed against his chest, as if she were trying to hide from the memory or anchor herself to the present.
"What has gotten into you?" he asked, his fear giving way to concern. He did not try to pull away from her painful grip. Instead, he brought one hand up and gently brushed it over her hair, then settled it on the back of her head, holding her against him in a firm, steadying embrace. He could feel the tension coiling through her small frame, a spring wound far too tight.
She did not answer with words. A low, guttural sound vibrated in her throat, a mix of anguish and rage. Her other hand came up, fingers digging into the fabric of his coat at his side. She was clinging to him now, not as a source of warmth, but as a lifeline in a sudden, violent storm of recollection.
The earth shook. Something erupted from the ground a distance away, hurling debris into the air. A guttural roar resonated through the chaos. Lucid's worst fear had come to pass. He was facing an Unfaithful, gone berserk in the red zone.
*'Fuck…'*
"Lucid, it is unfit of you to swear," Alice chimed in, her voice oddly unconcerned given the situation. She believed in him too much, perhaps.
But Ayame… she held herself closer to him, her face drawn into a deep frown.
He had to break her out of this trance.