Horror sunk in like a poison; slow and agonizing. It consumed Tifalla's body and mind bit by bit until she was helpless to fight against it. When everything inside was tainted by such terror, she could no longer keep a steady hold on her mind. She screamed until bile rose up her throat, and she thrashed beneath the weight of Michi's corpse until its limp form fell away.

  Free at last from her bloody prison, Tifalla scrambled to back away from the body like a woman possessed. Her nails clawed into the dirt to drag herself further, and her legs kicked at anything and everything in her path. She couldn't stop shaking. She couldn't stop heaving. Her body, quite simply, didn't feel like her own anymore. Everywhere she looked seemed to be dyed red; a grim reminder of what she had done. Michi's blood was in her mouth, splattered across her cheeks and drying on her palms.

  She really did it. She killed someone.

  And she was… relieved?

  “Please, please, please—” she mumbled, “Michi? Wake up…”

  A mess of blubbering tears and whimpers, she crawled over to the body and began to shake it. She noted how the warmth of Michi's skin was fading rapidly and flinched at the feeling. Denial made her movements harsher. Her only success was in rolling Michi over, exposing her wounds and lifeless face to the skies above. Though her eyes were still open, they were glassy and lifeless. She wasn't breathing. She didn't respond to Tifalla's pleas. No matter how hard she tried, Michi wouldn't, couldn't, wake up.

  Horror gave way to grief. This time, for real, Tifalla began sobbing.

  She was truly gone. She couldn't deny it any longer.

  Tifalla's tears mixed with the blood soaked snow. Relentless and torrential, she cried to a corpse that could never respond.

  It was then that she felt that wretched emotion again; relief.

  What was wrong with her?

  It felt impossible to make sense of her feelings under the crushing weight of murder. They were far too ugly and cruel for Tifalla to bear. What she felt deep inside clashed with what she saw before her eyes. It was a disconnect she couldn't comprehend. Tifalla could only cry in the face of the damage Michi sustained, the death she caused, and the sickening sense of peace within.

  “Ahhh…! AAAAUUUHHHH!”

  Her head was splitting. Between the pain from her wounds, and the weight of reality crushing her, Tifalla felt like she was fit to pass out. She only barely managed to cling to consciousness when Michi's horrified expression sat burned against the back of her eyelids. She couldn't forget it if she tried.

  Everything was wrong.

  This wasn't supposed to happen.

  So why? Why did she feel the way she did?

  “No, no, no…!” she hiccuped.

  Was Michi right? Was she a monster? Did she truly relish at the thought of killing? Would she do it again? She didn't want to— but here she was sitting beside Michi's corpse. Just how far did “want” truly get her?

  Her chest felt constricted, locked in a vice grip she couldn't free herself from. Her screams and cries soon left her as dry wheezes. Her eyes never closed for more than a split second. They remained widened and alert.

  She was no better than Michi herself. Tifalla could find reasons, excuses of some kind, but nothing could erase the image of Michi's fearful eyes from her mind.

  She was scared too. She didn't want to die either. What did she think in her final moments? Did she think about the people she would soon join? Did she think about what could have been? The more Tifalla asked herself, the less she was able to keep steady. The questions were never-ending, and the guilt laced in each of them worsened the tightness in her chest.

  But she was still relieved. No amount of guilt could shake it. It was a catalyst for more disgust to manifest.

  “I'm sorry— I'm so– so sorry–!” she cried, her words pouring out clumsily.

  “Tifalla.”

  She did not regard Eiwar's call. He repeated, but she did not listen.

  “Tifalla…?”

  When she attempted to dry her tears, blood slid across her cheeks. She gasped and made an attempt to clean herself with her sleeve, but it ended in failure. Her movements were too erratic and panicked. She only succeeded in smearing blood over herself, of which she tried to wipe away. Frantic to be “clean”, she grew disoriented in the face of smells and sensations she never wanted to feel. At some point, she knew she had failed and began to cry out like a child.

  “Tifalla…!”

  A hand stopped her before she could worsen the situation. Tifalla tried to scream, but the only sound produced was a wheezing gasp. When her eyes momentarily cleared, she saw a face staring at her.

  It was Eiwar's.

  She immediately looked around in confusion. She wasn't in his realm, but…

  “Y-You–? You're here–?”

  When? Why? He certainly appeared before her in the past, but the moments were fleeting. Tifalla assumed she was seeing things. But, when Eiwar's hand grasped hers, she felt his warmth. He truly was sitting before her.

  His expression was confusion that gave way to restrained sorrow. Seeing it made Tifalla terribly aware of how she looked. Her hair was a mess, tear tracks and blood trailed down her face, and her every movement was shaky.

  Did he see what she saw? A monster?

  “I–” she began.

  “It wasn't you… It was I. It was my doing…”

  As her breath stuttered and her mouth remained agape, Tifalla's thoughts came to a screeching halt.

  “What?”

  Eiwar's other hand soon found Tifalla's. If he was troubled by the blood on them, his expression didn't give it away. Instead he regarded her with a neutral gaze.

  “I'm… sorry... You did nothing… I took over…” he said.

  While his eye flicked to her tacet bell, Tifalla watched him instead. She didn't know what she was looking for within his eyes, but she knew that she was desperate.

  Reprieve? Salvation? Forgiveness? Justification?

  Did she deserve such things?

  “B-But I–” she stammered.

  Tifalla's hands were steadied by his.

  “I killed her…” Eiwar said.

  “No, you don't get it, I was relieved–! I was glad she died! I'm everything she said I was!”

  “You aren't… It was I who forced your hand... You did nothing wrong… You just… had a nightmare…”

  A nightmare? Was that what this was? Tifalla looked down at their locked hands. Her vision seemed to swirl. She was so tired.

  Maybe he was right. That this was all one terrible dream.

  Wouldn't that be nice, she thought.

  “Are you sure?” she asked, softly.

  “Twas only a dream…”

  She didn't know if his words held merit to them. She didn’t know if he was lying to help her, or telling the truth. It didn't entirely matter. The obfuscation was enough to quiet the storm of her mind. When she fell silent, when her breathing evened, and when her body fell limp, Eiwar was there to accept. She slumped onto his shoulder, eyes blankly staring into the distance.

  “Your humanity… is not based solely on a singular emotion…”

  Tifalla shut her eyes. She could feel the faint echo of his every word.

  “Humans carry… multitudes… paths uncharted and unknown… you possess more than mere relief… There is anguish, remorse, and fear. Do those no longer exist…?”

  Tifalla shook her head.

  Eiwar hummed, deep in thought.

  “Then you have not lost your way… You are… as you were.”

  To his voice, Tifalla let out more sobs. Eiwar was correct. Her relief did not stand alone. It existed for its own reasons. Perhaps she was glad Michi was no longer in pain. Or, she was relieved to still be alive herself. Whichever it was, Tifalla found herself more comfortable with the emotion. It didn't feel any less ugly to her, but what could she do to alleviate it?

  Enjoying the story? Show your support by reading it on the official site.

  “Have I… already become a monster?” she asked.

  Eiwar shook his head.

  “I recall… your scorn,” he murmured. “Your abhorrence of killing… I did not understand why. I still… cannot. But…”

  One of his hands let hers go. The loss of warmth made Tifalla's heart lurch. She rushed to grab his hand once more, but it had already been placed upon her wounded shoulder. She fell still beneath his touch.

  “You are… pained. Wounded and afraid… I dislike it. I dislike… the notion you hold… Would a monster yearn for assurance…? Would a monster weep for the fallen…?”

  Tifalla didn't know anymore. All ideas of what constituted “human” were lost to her. She thought she knew; that she could tell so easily what made a person and what didn't. Once sat at the boundary between them, however, everything seemed to unravel in her mind.

  She thought Michi was inhuman for what she had done to Dali; for how she treated others. She thought Eiwar was inhuman for his nature, his inability to understand her. Now, she didn't really know. She could only blame herself. She was all she knew.

  “Do not scorn yourself… place your grief upon me.” he whispered.

  It was him. He was the cause.

  She pulled away and held up her hand in the air. It trembled with feelings she dare not name.

  But, as Eiwar watched with curiosity, Tifalla's arm lost strength.

  She didn't want to hurt anyone.

  Why was she still hanging on to that foolish wish? She killed. She hurt. More than any one alive.

  Tears bubbled at the ends of her eyes.

  “I… I want to go home. So, so badly.” she whimpered.

  Eiwar stared as she shrank in on herself, head to his chest. His eye sought answers to her plight; a repair he could make. None existed. What's done is done, and no degree of lashing out would fix it. Tifalla knew this, but it only made her feel frustrated and helpless.

  She slumped against his body once more, sobbing and wheezing into the fabric of his clothes. Her fists grasped and twisted anything she could find.

  One monster lies against another.

  When her voice could wail no more, silence settled and snow began to fall around them. Provided Eiwar's warmth, Tifalla was able to sit well without discomfort. She didn't know how long she remained with him, but for a little while, time didn't seem to matter for either of them. She simply let the waves of her grief wash over her until she could finally stand in shallow waters.

  She only moved when she was ready. When her tears dried and her throat no longer burned. As exhausted as she was, she knew she needed to get moving. Despite everything, she still held onto her goal. It was all she could hold on to.

  Though, she was reluctant to part ways with Eiwar.

  “My Lord?”

  “Yes?”

  “Can you remain? Is that… allowed?”

  Eiwar was quiet. Long enough for Tifalla to begin reconsidering her question. She knew she was being selfish, but the idea of being alone made her feel unsettled.

  Even so, she dare not make herself a burden.

  “It's okay if–”

  “If you will guide me… I can remain…”

  For the second time, his words took her aback.

  “Huh?”

  “I am… not permitted to guide you forward… but I can remain if you guide me…”

  That seemed to be a yes. Tifalla nodded her head eagerly and slowly rose to her feet. One hand still held Eiwar's, secure and tight. He did not protest her actions.

  Once both stood, Tifalla searched for Michi's body. She found nothing there. All that remained was the blood she left behind, and her blade. The sight caused Tifalla to step back in alarm, but Eiwar's hand remained a grounding presence. When she looked at him, he stared back. His head then gently bumped into hers. She nearly smiled.

  Tifalla grabbed the blade from the floor and secured it into its sheath. She then checked her shoulder wound. The hole was by no means small, but it had already begun to heal. Flesh and muscle weaved back together moment by moment. Unfortunately, moving her arm sent waves of pain throughout her shoulder. She decided, quickly, to not do so any further.

  She picked up her tacet bell last. As she did, she recalled how Eiwar looked at the bell moments ago. She had rung it properly for the first time during the chase. What exactly was its power?

  “The gift you granted me… what was it?”

  “Your gift is… reversal… When you ring the bell, you may rewind time for any specific object you think of… people included…”

  “So,” she paused. “I can rewind as far as I want?”

  “Only for a few precious sections. Ten total… when you rang the bell, your body… returned to where it was ten seconds prior. Her death was… indeed my doing.”

  Tifalla looked at the spot Michi should have been. As a Virtuosa, nothing remained of her after death.

  She finally knew her capabilities, but at what cost?

  Every memory Michi made disappeared. The people she loved were gone. Nothing remained of them, or her.

  Michi never got to say goodbye.

  Tifalla began to walk through the snow with an absent mind. She let Eiwar's hand go and instead looped her arm around his. He seemed briefly confused by the gesture, but accepted it all the same. His hand, floating fragments and all, stayed close by to the base of his arm.

  It emanated a comfortable heat that Tifalla needed. Her tinted fingers could finally warm up.

  When silence grew overwhelming, she spoke to fill the quiet air. She said nothing of importance, for she spoke to distract. Eiwar humored her tales with his own thoughts.

  “Grandma scolded me afterwards. Said I was being impolite,” she murmured. “But she also taught me to be honest, so I was confused. When Uncle Henry's head hit the sun just right, it was… shiny. Grandma thought it was funny, but she said I needed manners. She was the one who raised me, so was that not her fault?”

  “A child mimics… they learn from elders and peers… did you garner such a thought from fellow children…?”

  “Not really. Back home, I was the only little one. The whole town was full of older folk. Aunties, uncles, big cousins, and the elders who ran everything,”

  “A childless commune… I see. Your speech emphasizes manners…”

  “Does it?”

  “Indeed… it is. But it is also natural… it is a reflection of your origin…”

  “Oh, yes... It's a bit embarrassing, but you're right. I'm proud of my upbringing. I'm proud of my home. They're good folks.”

  “Were you… born there?”

  “I wasn't. I don't really know where I was born. I just showed up and that was it. When I did… they were all so happy. But, I think they were scared too,”

  “Whatever for…?”

  “I think that it's one thing to live amongst other adults. It's another to have to care for a child. They're vulnerable and so… easy to lose. I'd find so many ways to get hurt. No wonder I got scolded a lot.”

  “Ah… it seems you were more rambunctious…” he murmured. “But humans grow quickly…”

  “I guess to a Lord childhood would be short. But to them, it was long. Far longer.”

  “Time begets change… it leaves marks, wounds… But these are not bad things. Your youth, to them, must have been a treasure…”

  Tifalla thought on his words as she walked. The crunch of snow beneath her feet, for a moment, was all she needed to hear. When she did speak, however, it was with greater levity.

  “I hope so. It was nice for me. The best years of my life. Though… Cantabile was good too. In its own way,” she said.

  “Was it not… restrictive?” Eiwar asked.

  “It was,” she said. “But I learned so much while there. I made friends… good friends. I was even wed for the first time! That would never happen back home.”

  Eiwar stared in silence with a furrowed brow. She could practically see the gears turning in his head. When they shuttered to a stop, he tilted his head in perplexity.

  “You are… married?”

  Tifalla gave a small smile. “You could say that.”

  The idea didn't seem to register in his mind. She would have felt bad had his expression not been so amusing. She decided, mercifully, to simply give him the answer he sought.

  “To you, my Lord.”

  Further deviations have thrown him from his path. Though, instead of confusion, Eiwar's eye widened in shock. When he seemed to realize how he looked, he averted his gaze from Tifalla to think more deeply about what she revealed.

  “I am… wed to you…? I don't… recall. I should… but I cannot.”

  His tone was far more troubled than Tifalla expected. When she leaned forward and caught a glimpse of his face, he almost looked distraught over his lacking memory. Had she gone too far?

  “I-It's okay! It's just a custom we have at Cantabile. New priestesses choose a Lord to be wed to. We swear our loyalty, dedication, and worship to this Lord until we leave. It's not the same as a normal wedding,” she explained.

  That didn't seem to make Eiwar feel better.

  “You swore… to me… and I can't recall? No… not just you… but many?”

  “The Lords stopped interacting with humanity long ago, no? It's okay if you can't remember. It's more like… an initiation! Yes, something like that.”

  That, too, did not make Eiwar feel better. He looked less stiff and petrified, but his expression was still dour.

  “I have been… a poor spouse…” he murmured. “You… told me what marriage entails… companionship, love, dedication… it is to create something new… something beautiful. I have failed at all of these…” he said solemnly.

  Tifalla didn't expect him to get so worked up over a spousal role. It was silly, genuine, even. He barely comprehended why humans had weddings. Why would he get so worked up over it?

  She laughed. It startled both her and Eiwar into a somewhat awkward silence. She did not forget her situation. In fact, the act of laughing made for a sore reminder. She was still breathing and laughing while…

  “What do good spouses do…?” Eiwar asked.

  He deftly drew her attention back to him, quieting all other thoughts in favor of answering him.

  “Well… they sometimes take walks with their lovers.”

  “I see…”

  “They might give gifts or show affection when it's wanted. They listen and collaborate when faced with challenges. They love despite shortcomings. They're friends who enjoy each other's company.”

  Tifalla thought to the couples in Calix as she spoke; the way they effortlessly banter with one another, or how they supported one another when times were hard. Many had been together for decades, and they stood as shining examples Tifalla could call upon when she thought of love.

  Because, despite her reverence for it, she was no real expert on love or relationships. She wasn't even capable of feeling it the same way everyone else did. But there was beauty in partnerships. There was beauty in love. She studied the customs of marriage because few things made her happier than seeing people share a bond.

  She wondered… no, she hoped that Eiwar could understand her.

  When she looked up at him, he seemed to have calmed some. He quietly followed after her every move, and hung onto every word like gospel. The more they walked, the more apparent his quirks became. She could see his fingers curl and stretch contentedly. He would bump her with his head yet again. Through it all, his expression remained neutral, but Tifalla could see a quiet sincerity about the way he moved.

  “I don't think… I would dislike being a spouse, then…” he soon said. “If I hadn't forgotten…”

  “Being a spouse to thousands sounds difficult, my Lord. Don't be so hard on yourself,” she said

  “But… I should be a good partner… I have sworn to stay at your side… In life, in death…” he began, “Is that… not what marriage entails…?”

  It seemed he took her words to heart. Confusion laced his tone, but he was trying his best to dispel it. Tifalla's expression softened.

  “‘Should’ isn't important. At least, it shouldn't be. Why don't we just be… companions?”

  “You would treat me this way…?” Eiwar asked. “After I… forced your hand? After I pulled you into a nightmare…?”

  He craned his head to the side. His gaze never left hers.

  “Do you… deem me as good…?”

  “I'm not sure,” she answered. “But I know I'm not good.”

  When she shut her eyes for a touch too long, she became all too aware of the dried blood on her skin. Michi's face, twisted by pain, would come to her. Her eyes were promptly opened.

  “So does it matter?” she asked.

  Her situation was indeed created by him. She could never forget that. If she were another, she would never forgive that.

  But she was still Tifalla.

  “If you want to make it up to me, then make good on your promise. Stay with me for a while.”

  For longer, she thought.

  She is as she was.

  “You need not ask… by your side I will remain…” Eiwar said.

  “You aren't repulsed? Disgusted?” she asked.

  “Whatever for? It was my hand that forced you…”

  Tifalla looked down.

  “If I did harm another of my own volition… would your mind change?”

  Eiwar needed no time to answer.

  “No… I don't believe so.”

  She smiled. A somber, weak smile.

  “Thank you…”

  In the face of ever present change, Tifalla found an island of certainty. It was warm, accepting, and something she didn't realize she wanted. No, needed.

  Any soul passing by would find a woman bathed in red arm in arm with a ghastly presence. Both wore soft, strained smiles as they talked amongst themselves.

  It was as if they existed in their own world.