The blizzard had returned with a vengeance. The wind was a screaming, frozen knife, carving through Lucid's clothes and into his very bones. He did not stop. His tears had frozen on his cheeks, tiny crystals that clung to his skin. His nose felt numb and solid. He carried Ayame on his back, her weight an agonizing anchor that pulled at every fresh injury in his body. The soft green light of his healing aura enveloped him, knitting flesh and bone with slow, persistent fate essence, but it offered no shield against the cold's cruel bite now, had it been because he exhussted hid reserve? That wasn't right... Lucid practically had an infinite amount of it.
On a grim, practical level, the cold had one benefit: the worst of their open wounds were beginning to freeze, the unnatural temperature staunching the flow of blood that should have long since left them both as lifeless husks. Of coure by this point any normal human would have succumbed to the cold. Lucid was practically an Enlightened and Ayame was not human.
"Almost," he gritted out through teeth clenched so tight his jaw ached. "Almost there."
He gasped, the thin, frigid air scraping his lungs. Each step was a monumental effort, a battle against gravity, pain, and the mountain's will to keep them.
Inside his mind, Alice was a silent, watchful presence. She did not speak. She dared not interrupt the fierce, singular focus that drove him forward. One stray thought, one moment of distraction, could mean a misstep on the treacherous path. But her work was palpable; he could feel her steady, guiding influence on the healing. With her fate essence they shared, optimizing its flow, conserving his dwindling essence where she could.
He continued. Ayame, the girl he had now saved from the brink of death twice, stirred against his back. A low groan vibrated through her chest and into his.
She was awake.
She could feel the rhythmic, labored motion of his walk. She could feel the strain in the muscles of his back and shoulders, the tremble of exhaustion he tried to suppress. Her eyes opened, sharp and aware despite her injuries.
This human.
This person.
Was still carrying her. In this state, through this storm.
She had thought the final blast, the crushing impacts, would be the end. Yet not only had he somehow healed her enough to keep death at bay, he was now carrying her impossibly heavy frame across a frozen mountain pass. A profound, bewildering sense of something she had no name for swelled within her.
Her arms, which had been hanging limp, tightened around his neck, not in a chokehold, but in a deliberate, firm embrace.
"Lucid," her voice was a raw scrape against his ear, but her words were clear even though they were whispers. "My vow shall remain unbroken until the end of time."
Lucid flinched, her breath warm against his frozen neck.
'Oh, great, she is awake!' his mind screamed internally. 'Gosh, I have been carrying you for so long. Please, get off!'
Out loud, all he managed was a strained, "We... are there."
And they were. As he took one final, heaving step, they passed the highest point of the mountain pass. The world opened up before them.
Just beyond the ridge, the land fell away into a breathtaking vista. Lush, vibrant greenery stretched as far as the eye could see. It was a blue forest, deep and verdant, reminiscent of the purple woods he had awakened in near Tyriana, but shaded in cool, serene tones of emerald. The sky above it was clear, the blizzard's fury confined to the peaks behind them. The sun, weak but present, painted the scene in soft, hopeful light.
He kept walking, the descent now gentler, the path clearer. The relief of leaving the crimson red-zone was immediate, a physical lightness in his spirit.
"Wait, Lucid," Ayame called out. Her voice was stronger.
He stopped, and she slid from his back. The instant her weight left him, he felt a staggering sense of relief, as if a mountain itself had been lifted. He swayed on his feet, his legs trembling with the sudden absence of burden.
She stood before him, unsteady but upright. She was still pale, her clothes torn and bloodstained, but the terrible, broken look was gone, replaced by her usual sharp focus. She reached up and untied the heavy fur coat from around her shoulders, the coat he had given her, to shield her against the cold when she was unconscious.
She held it out to him. "Keep it," she said. "You are hurt."
"You need it more," Lucid protested, his own teeth beginning to chatter now that he was no longer moving with such desperate exertion.
Ayame stopped. She looked at the coat, then at his shivering form. Without another word, she stepped forward. She did not hand it to him. Instead, she draped the thick fur over his shoulders herself, pulling it tight around him and securing the clasp at his throat with a surprisingly gentle touch. Her fingers brushed his chin.
"Are you sure you can walk?" Lucid asked, his voice muffled slightly by the high collar of the coat that now held her residual warmth.
"Yes," she stated.
"Alright then. Let us go. The Sky-Dock is not too far."
Together, they began the final descent, leaving behind the red zone, the crimson pass, and the memory of the S-Grade horror that dwelled there. They walked side by side now, two wounded figures silhouetted against the vast, welcoming blue of the forest below. One shrouded in mist and fur, the other small and pale with a horn curving from her brow. The path ahead was still unknown, but for the first time since the cave, they were not fleeing. They were simply walking forward, into whatever came next.
Walking down the gentler slope, Lucid couldn't help but notice Ayame's proximity. She walked beside him, closer than before, her steps occasionally staggering just enough that her shoulder would brush against his arm. Each contact was a small, jarring reminder of her presence.
'Why is she so close to me?' he asked himself, a private, flustered thought.
They were companions sharing a destination, yes, but they had done things... His mind replayed the memories, and his unseen face burned at the thought.
Who shared their warmth and blood with a mere companion? Who bled for them? Their story was not one of simple survival and struggle. It was edging dangerously close to the territory of forbidden love.
A cold, pragmatic thought grazed his mind. If they continued like this, this closeness, Ayame would not be able to simply separate from him when they reached Vex. Lucid could not afford another companion, another life tethered to his own cursed responsibility. The weight of Lyle and the maid's memories were heavy enough.
"You are thinking again," Ayame stated, her voice cutting through his spiraling thoughts. "You are uneasy."
Lucid flinched. It was as if she could read his mind, much like a certain being named Alice. The comparison left a bitter taste.
But this pact, this companionship, still made no logical sense to him. She had nothing tangible to gain from him except occasional blood and shared warmth. He had little to gain from her; while her physical prowess was immense, he was, theoretically, capable of defending himself. He could not fathom why she clung to him, or the solemn vow she had uttered. It left an unfamiliar, warm, and confusing feeling burning in his chest.
'No, no, no,' he argued with himself. 'We are only sharing the destination. That is all. After Vex, we part.'
As if to directly contradict his internal resolution, Ayame inched even closer. Then, without ceremony, her cool hand slipped into his, her fingers lacing with his own.
He flushed immediately, a wave of heat rising up his neck. "What, hey, why are you holding my hand?" he stammered, his voice jumping.
He immediately regretted his tone. "I am sorry," he said quickly, remembering he was speaking to a being who could likely snap his bones without effort.
Ayame looked up at him, genuinely confused, her head tilting to the side like a curious bird. "Warmth," she explained, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. "It is wise to stay close to each other."
The simplicity of her logic disarmed him. For her, it was a matter of efficiency and survival. For him, it was a gesture laden with unspoken meaning.
The snow underfoot thinned to patches, then vanished entirely as they descended. The sun, which had seemed to move with unnatural speed, began its descent, painting the sky in washes of orange and violet.
"Let us take a break," Lucid said, his voice tired. "We can watch the sunset while we are still high enough to see it."
He had no fire to make, but the fading light was enough. He found a flat rock and sat, gazing out at the breathtaking expanse where the crimson mountains met the lush blue forest. Ayame sat beside him, her body immediately pressing against his side from shoulder to thigh. She was, he was realizing, incredibly clingy in a utterly unselfconscious way.
"The days in this world sure pass by quickly," he muttered under his breath. It was a persistent oddity. Whenever he was on the move, time seemed to compress, the hours slipping away like sand. He brushed the unsettling thought aside.
"You said you are not from this world," Ayame said. Her voice was quiet but precise, piercing the comfortable silence.
Lucid froze. He had let that slip during his rambling in the cave. He hadn't thought she would retain such a detail.
"I... No," he admitted cautiously. "I am from a different realm. A place... of..." He scrambled for a vague explanation.
"Realm?" she interrupted, the word foreign on her tongue. "I see... I must have misheard you then."
She looked out at the sunset, her expression blank. "I do not have great memory."
"Ever since that day of my childhood"
"I carry fragments of memories, I remeber what i am supposed to do"
"Yet, I do not remember for what purpose..."
Lucid quickly looked over at her, a surge of relief washing through him. Was she really that forgetful? Or was she, in her blunt way, offering him an out, dismissing the question to ease his obvious discomfort?
Before he could decide, she spoke again, not looking at him.
"But I remember the cave. I remember that you came to my aid, I remember the blood you shared. I remember your voice and warmth while we slept together."
She turned her head, her dark eyes capturing his.
"I can be forgetful, I can be rude without knowing but I will forever remember your act of kindness."
The sunset bathed her pale skin and dark hair in fiery light, highlighting the elegant curve of her horn and the stark, serious set of her features. In that moment, she was not a forgetful amnesiac or a simple predator. She was someone holding onto the few anchors she had in a blurred world, and he was one of them.
The unfamiliar warmth in Lucid's chest flared again, hotter this time. He looked away, back at the dying sun.
"Good," he said, his voice soft. "I will keep that in mind."
He did not pull his hand away from hers.
Alice spoke. "Your hand, Lucid... I suggest you move it."
"Why? It's for warmth," he shot back.
He felt a pang of frustration at the back of his mind.
"She's kind of like you, Alice."
"Not remembering your identity."
"Yes, I suppose…"
They sat in silence as the last sliver of sun vanished, the first stars piercing the darkening blue sky above the forest they would soon enter. The destination of Vex still lay ahead.