♕

“It’s over?” she hadn’t meant it to come out like a question. She'd meant to say it as a declaration, a heroic exclamation of victory. But the air in the Shadow Realm is thick and hot, and the smell of blood and burnt hair is still heavy in her nose and she almost heaves.

"Yes," says Tyril softly. The rest of their friends and Kade, Kade, stand in the middle of the empty chamber, talking and laughing. Kade is smiling. Mal has Kade's arm around his shoulder, keeping Kade off his wouded leg. Mal's own injury, a jagged gash a few inches above his knee, still bleeds sluggishly and her throat tightens.

"Right," she says, nodding once, "we need to get moving then. Let's,"

She attempts to square her shoulders and instantly clenches her teeth with a strangled hiss of pain. That wretched countess's whip had torn through the Armor of the Dawn like wet paper and straight into her shoulder. Blood pools beneath her arm and down her chest like sweat on a sticky summer evening.

"Elaine," Tyril's voice is so gentle she has to choke back a sob. His fingers brush the back of her own and she screws up her eyes tight. She can't look at him. If she does she will shatter. Fall to the bloody floor and scream until her throat is raw.

"I'm alright," she says, eyes still closed. She tries to smile, but it feels spastic and unconvincing even to her, "I'm alright. I just need to," her voice dies as her lungs seize and suddenly she can't get enough air.

She clenches her fist, sticky with blood, until her nails dig into her palms. Nia's blood. And even behind her closed eyes she can see Tyril's face, eyes wide in surprise as the lance tore through his neck. She'd been too far away to hear his soft exhalation of shock, but she'd seen the shape of it on his lips as he'd fallen to one knee. Before the soldiers obscured him from view.

He's saying something to her now, his voice low and comforting but she can't breathe, she can't-

He touches her cheek and she gasps as if he dragged her up from beneath a current, lungs expanding so quickly it makes her shoulder pulse in pain all over again.

"Once more," he says softly, sliding his hand from her cheek to her uninjured shoulder, "just breathe."

She takes another jagged breath, wincing at the stab of pain that flares from her shoulder all the way to her ear. Tyril takes one of her hands between both his, rubbing warmth back into them as she tries to exhale slowly and evenly.

"I," her voice is unrecognizable, high and frantic as a child’s, "I-I thought…the soldiers. W-when you fell, I thought,"

His touch is painfully gentle as he cups her cheek, tilting her face towards his own. Blood still slicks the side of his neck and the front of his chest, viciously red against his pale blue skin.

"I thought I lost you," she whispers, throat closing with tears, "I was so sure. And I couldn't,"