As Rwaine pulled and balanced Sage's weak and fragile body on his back, journeying away from the necromancer's hideout, he couldn't stop thinking about the man's last words, "A new skin." He couldn't get it off his mind; the intense and truthful look he gave Rwaine was strong enough to lure him into agreeing.
"A new skin." He murmured.
He had always wished to change who he was and also not to be born.
Every day he became hungry for a new skin so no one would be afraid of him. But he couldn't trust the necromancer. He feared the man had just been bluffing or lying in order to save himself. Everyone would do anything when they are in a life-or-death situation.
His thoughts were clouded, and his mind felt really heavy, until Sage's weak voice interrupted him.
"Why didn't you kill him?" Sage whispered softly.
Rwaine stopped mid-step. For a moment, he thought Sage was asleep, or maybe he had fainted. His body felt limp on his back, lying so still, like a feathered weight. Rwaine didn't reply; instead, he adjusted his grip on Sage and kept walking, his sharp jaw tightened.
"You are not a monster. You are a hero, the hero who saved me." Sage coughed, his voice trembling with every word that escaped his mouth.
Rwaine paused again. His feet sank slightly into the forest ground. The words didn't register at first. Hero? After all, what had Sage seen of him? The cloak had been taken off during the battle with the necromancer, revealing every mutation and every cursed deformation he had hid. He had seen it all, so him not being scared baffled Rwaine.
"Shouldn't you be scared of me? Or ask me what I am." Rwaine asked, his voice low, almost like a silent growl.
"Scared?" Sage let out a faint laugh; the more he laughed, the more he coughed and held his chest.
"I'm not scared. In fact, I'm proud of you." Sage lifted his head slightly, enough to look at Rwaine's shoulder. "You saved me even without knowing who I was. Went through all that stress. Can anyone else truly do all that for a stranger? I don't care about appearances. All that matters and will always matter is the heart."
Rwaine exhaled slowly through his nose, a sound almost like a sigh, but deeper and more intense. He nodded slightly.
"You're a good person. A rare one. And those golden eyes… Damn, if I had them, girls would kill each other for them." Sage smiled, his eyelids popping up slowly.
A soft smirk rested at the corner of Rwaine's mouth. Girls? No girl would kill for him, not with his deformities and dark cloak that made him look like a harbinger of death or the Grim Reaper.
For once, he felt something he hadn't felt in years.
Acceptance from someone else.
One person who didn't flinch or stare too long at him and someone who didn't fear him or judge his appearance.
There was silence again.
"Can you put me down? I think I can walk," Sage murmured. "I don't want my brothers calling me a baby."
Rwaine carefully lowered him, placing a steadying hand on his shoulder. He stood close as Sage staggered on his feet, then they began walking side by side.
"I'll appreciate it more if no one hears about my true appearance."
"You can't hide forever." Sage said softly, staring into Rwaine's golden eyes.
"My father always said that." He smiled faintly.
After walking for hours, they finally reached the boundary. Rwaine knew he could not cross over to meet the others because of the promise he made to the old woman, but Sage was able to cross over, and he bid him farewell.
******
Outside the boundary, Fanaza paced restlessly to and fro as her boots kicked up dirt, and others, Percival and his knights, sat in patient silence.
Unable to take it any longer, she marched over to Percival; her eyes were sharp with frustration. "It's taking too much time."
"I know," Percival replied with his arms crossed. "But we just can't cross this useless boundary. You saw what happened when we tried."
Fanaza looked toward the trees, fidgeting with her fingers. "I'm really worried. What if those creatures come out again?"
Percival turned sharply, his face tightening. "Woman, would you rest and stay calm? My brother is in there too. You are not the only one who is worried right now."
Without waiting for a reply, he walked away from her and went to Stefan. The two stood close, whispering quietly.
Fanaza bit her nails, her eyes darting between the trees and the boundary. What could be wrong, and what was Rwaine up to? She thought.
"Please, gods," she whispered, pressing her palms together, "if you can hear me, keep Rwaine and Sage safe."
It was nightfall. Darkness hugged and clung to the forest like mist. Fanaza had dozed off against a tree, and some of the knights were asleep, forgetting their duty as they snored peacefully.
Suddenly, the boundary whirred, and a blinding white light lit up the whole forest; it almost made it look like it was day. No one could ignore it; they all jolted awake.
The boundary opened, wide and trembling. There was a path, and a figure emerged from it.
The light made it hard to see things clearly. Everywhere was blurry. But then...
"Sage?" Fanaza cried out, rushing forward as the limping figure came into view. She threw her arms around him, clutching him tightly.
She was joyful to see him.
"My prince!" voices echoed behind her as the knights approached.
Sage's knees shook, and Percival caught him just in time.
"Hey, how do you feel?" Percival asked, holding him up.
"Weak," Sage whispered with a tired breath.
"Thank goodness we found him," Stefan said with relief.
Fanaza smiled, but her joy faded when she looked behind Sage; someone was missing.
Rwaine wasn't there.
"Where is the man in the cloak?" she asked, her eyes scanning the whole forest.
"He said he had some issues to sort, and he'll be back," Sage murmured.
Fanaza frowned deeply. Issues? What else could there possibly be? He should be back with Sage, she thought.
"Let's go," Percival said firmly, turning toward the knights.
"You can't just leave—Rwaine is still in there." Fanaza's voice echoed.
Percival halted, then slowly turned to face her. "So? It's none of my business. I came for Sage, not some cloaked man of darkness."
"He saved Sage's life! What if he's in danger? How could you just leave him?" Fanaza stepped in front of him, her voice rising and full of disgust towards Percival.
Percival stepped forward slowly, grabbing her wrist and dragging her aside.
"Listen," he growled. "Don't you ever talk back at me; I'm not nice or friendly. We are leaving, and that's final. You or anyone cannot change that."
Fanaza snatched her wrist free, glaring up at him with a loud hiss. "You can go. I'm not leaving without him, and that's final. You or anyone cannot change that." She intentionally repeated a few of his words to mock him.
Percival scoffed, signaling toward the knights who were awaiting command. "Suit yourself. Prepare the horses."
"I'm not leaving either, brother," came a voice—soft but firm.
Immediately, all heads turned in unison. Sage stood beside a tree calmly, despite the pain; his voice echoing through the forest was filled with pure determination. He would never leave until Rwaine got back; he saved his life, so he owed him that.
Percival raised an eyebrow, smirking softly. "Really?"
Fanaza smiled to herself. She also smiled and nodded at Sage like a proud and satisfied mother.
She shot Percival a sharp glare. "You're disgusting," she hissed before walking towards the boundary. Even if Rwaine returned days later, she would wait for him.
"Rwaine! Rwaine!" she called, her voice slicing through the air.
There was no response.
She placed her hands on the boundary and pushed, but nothing happened.
Only the low hum of dark magic vibrated beneath her fingers and the whirring sound that followed.
"What if he doesn't come back?" Stefan muttered behind her.
"He's going to," Fanaza said, eyes locked on the glowing boundary.
Percival folded his arms, watching quietly and calmly.
"Something is actually getting fishy," he whispered under his breath.
Fanaza kept shouting.
"Rwaine! Rwaine!" She slammed her fists against the boundary in front of her again and again, but it was still the same response she got.
*******
On the other side, Rwaine stood before the House of Mirrors, the same place where he had made the promise to the old woman.
He scoffed as he stepped forward, his cloak sweeping slightly against the floor that was covered in mist.
The place pulsed like a silent heartbeat. As the cloaked man stepped closer to a mirror, a ripple tore through it, and he saw a reflection. In it, there she stood again, the old woman. She was like the shadows, her smile wide and expectant.
"You've returned," the old woman said.
"Yes," he said. "I did promise. I said I would give you my eyes once I saved my friend."
"Why didn't you take the necromancer's offer?" The old woman asked.
"You knew?" He raised a brow.
"Come on, I know everything, son, and I can read people's thoughts except yours, which is quite shocking, so why?"
"I don't know," he replied, his voice firm.
The old woman laughed hysterically, and it echoed throughout the place; the mirrors shook slowly, and this made Rwaine feel disgusted.
"I feel you know the reason, so I won't bother you. Come closer; let me pull out those eyes with my hands." She said and showed off her sharp, long nails filled with dirt and strange markings.
"The price must be paid," she smiled.
He tilted his head, his voice calm but sharp.
"I said I would give them. I never said when."
The smile on her lips disappeared. She wasn't expecting that.
"Do not play word games with me, boy. I'm dangerous."
"I do not play games," he replied. "I made a promise. And I keep my promises. But there was no time, no day, no hour set. The promise I made still remains open, but today isn't its fulfillment."
Her brows furrowed. "You would cheat me."
"Not cheat, old one. I didn't tell you when I'll give out my eyes, and it is not today," he said softly.
"You'll have them on the day lightning strikes the same tree thrice in one storm.
On the day the desert blooms with snow.
On the day the sun decides to be invincible or
On the day your name is remembered by the living."
A hush fell over them. The void seemed to listen.
"Silence." She screamed, and the void shimmered, restless; all the mirrors broke, and some cracked, and for a moment, the world around him trembled.
Then she let out a laugh—low, dry, but not without a strange respect. "Clever tongue. You would make a fine liar if only you weren't bound to the truth."
He nodded slightly. "I speak only of what was agreed."
Then let your promise be sealed in time," she blurted out. "When any of these come to pass, your eyes shall fly from your skull and find me—no matter where you hide."
"And in return," Rwaine added quickly, "let me make a new promise; this time it's for you to fulfill."
"Should none of those things happen in this life,
If the lightning never strikes thrice, if the sun never becomes invincible, or if the desert never blooms with snow, and if the living ever remember an old woman who dwells in the void of the supernatural and in a boundary no human can cross." He scoffed.
"Then I owe you nothing—and your claim dies with time." Rwaine's voice was firm.
The old woman squeezed her brows, her sharp nails twitching. "You clever, golden-eyed devil."
She studied him for a while, then let out a dry, forced laugh. "So be it! You trap me in patience as I trapped you in debt. A fair trade, isn't it?"
Rwaine nodded solemnly. "Then we both wait for miracles."
With a flick of her sleeve, the darkness tore open.
Her eyes narrowed. "Then go. But know promises made to me may be delayed, but they never break. One day, even the desert can bloom with snow."
And with a sweep of her hand, the void opened, and a strong breeze followed, one that could take a whole human away.
Rwaine was about to walk away, and he heard her speak.
Someone waits for you," she whispered. "Don't let her down."
Rwaine stepped through and crossed over the boundary.
Fanaza still waited patiently for Rwaine, and not losing hope, she stared at the boundary like it was her reflection until it whirred loudly.
Its light is softer this time, no longer blinding white but golden, like dawn spilling over the forest floor.
Her heart thudding as she took a hesitant step closer. For a moment, there was nothing, then a figure emerged.
Tall, cloaked, and familiar.
Rwaine stepped out slowly.
His aura was the same. But his eyes, those rare, golden eyes, still shone, defiant and burning.
Fanaza's heart raced slowly. Her chest tightened, but she quickly composed herself. She stood in front of him.
"You're here," she said, her voice steadier than she felt.
Rwaine stared at her, then looked down at her hands, which had reached for him without her realizing. Gently, he took them and wrapped his hands around them.
"Yes," he replied sharply.
Fanaza was joyful; she wanted to hug him, but she comported herself again, remembering her future husband was staring.
For a second, nothing was said. Their hands remained locked, silence doing all the speaking. Then Fanaza withdrew her hands and slapped him on his chest.
"You scared me. Why did you leave Sage to come out alone, and you were left behind? We never planned that," tears welling up in her eyes.
Rwaine wasn't hurt by her actions; the tears in her eyes just made him confused, and he was expressionless.
"What are those streaming down your eyes?" He asked and placed his hands on her cheeks to wipe them.
"It's nothing, you idiot," she said with a soft laugh.
Behind them, Percival watched not only him but everyone. Something was fishyyyyy in Percival's voice.
Percival's arms were crossed, but his jaw was clenched.
He looked at Rwaine, his eyes scanning them both; the way Fanaza leaned just slightly forward and something flickered in his gaze, the way they held hands and she smiled and her cheeks flushed—it was all hinting at something.
He turned away before he could be seen clearly.
Everyone's gaze was on them, staring and murmuring.
"Touching," Percival muttered behind them before he mounted his horse. "Shall we return now, or would you like the forest to write your wedding vows?"
Fanaza flinched slightly at the sarcasm, but she didn't look back.
Rwaine's eyes narrowed, but he said nothing.
Instead, he gently let go of her hands, stepping back with a nod. "You should go."
Fanaza pouted.
"Did you get hurt? Don't push me away," she said.
Rwaine replied.
"I am not a fan of those stares. You should go." He whispered.
Fanaza nodded too. Rwaine helped her mount her horse, and they prepared to leave.
But as she followed the others, she glanced back, once, just once, to make sure he was still waiting. She knew he would still be there, and yes.
He was.
She smiled.