Rynth: Four Beats

| 5th of Teryusin — Year 362 of the Cycle of Synthesis, Grand Cycle ??? |

Raoul was left near-breathless by the time they reached Tel Midasia. The normally forty minute walk was cut in half with all the running they did. Few were the times that he had actually managed to catch up to Idri and tag her, and in all three instances it was obvious she was purposely slowing down to entice him to try harder.

Before they knew it, the flat, open expanse of ankle-length grassland plains opened up into a nostalgic sea of golden wheat fields, each stalk twice the height of the green closer to the city. Off in the distance, the sails of tower mills circled in peaceful silence, still powered even as Nyxia descended, most likely to continue gathering energy from the wind. A few farmhouses lined the flatter areas, taking up entire fields worth of land for their barns and granaries. Whistles from the wind led them onward, and the both of them slowed to a comfortable walk, trailing the narrow lanes between each rectangular plot as they followed the same path they had taken to their spot dozens of times before.

It was still there. Compared to the other hills in the area, it wasn’t as tall or wide, but it held one feature that separated it from everything else: the single oak tree atop it that stretched over the entire center of the hill’s peak, with its leaves that never seemed to fall off despite the season, instead changing in color to mimic each four. Pear, emerald, biscotti, and alabaster, all taking the stage for a quarter of the year with no place for death. Idri had once jokingly dubbed the hill “Pinky” during one hangout, and the name had stuck since.

“Hello, Pinky! I’m back. Did you miss me?” She chirped, raising a hand to greet the hill.

Despite the years that had passed, she confidently made her way to the same spot the four of them used to sit in. The roots had grown in the time they were gone, for there was no one around to mind the direction in which they grew. Still she sat, conveniently right beside the same lone red tulip that still flowered all those years ago. She patted the spot behind her, gesturing for Raoul to seat himself there.

The boy acquiesced, and she leaned back into his chest and began humming their song.

Silence. It was just the two of them, enjoying the tranquility of it all. To keep himself busy, his fingers found their way to Idri’s hair, and with his free hand he pulled out the same brush he had used on her hair earlier and began combing through the knots that formed in her locks. Every once in a while, an ‘eep’ would leave her lips, surprised as the brush would get caught onto a tangled area and pull out the weaker parts.

“Come walk with me through fields of gold…”

He snapped into attention, fingers halting at the first line. The song still brought mixed feelings into his gut, particularly because of the years of friendship attached to it that contrasted with the bloody scene around them when they reunited.

“Try this. Still four beats, but different.” Raoul quickly interjected, coughing as he began improvising something along the lines of a new song while hiding the discomfort that came about from the first one.

The road was long and cold and dark,

She raised her eyebrows, but her lips moved instinctively to follow the soft, ethereal rhythm Raoul was setting. “The road was long and cold and dark,”

He nodded, urging her on with the next line.

But you were standing at its end,

“But you were standing at its end,”

With bloodstained hands and beating heart,

“With bloodstained hands and beating heart,”

Still you, still mine, still my old friend.

“Still you, still mine, still my old friend.”

Slowly, surely, their voices were melding together. Her lips moved at the exact moment his did, words flowing, reading his mind and completing the words he was thinking before he could even utter them completely.

The warmth came back the way it does,

Not all at once but slow and sure,

Like morning after winter was,

Like finding what you thought you'd lost.

They were fully in sync by the second verse. Raoul had already stopped singing, and was watching as Idri took the lines he had ad libbed and turned it into a song of her own.

So here we are, and here we'll stay,

Until the road asks more of us,

We'll face whatever comes our way,

Together now, the two of us.

“It’s lovely,” Idri commented, her ears perking up, as if trying to echo the song into her ears again. “What do you call it?”

“I don’t think I should be the one to call it anything. I just thought up the first parts, but you were the one who turned it into something nice.”

“Mm… Then, how about ‘Warm & Cold’? I might not be as good as you at reading people, but I could tell you weren’t entirely comfortable with how I was when we saw each other again. It was sort of a… mask that I wore when I went out killing. It helped to numb the feeling when I took lives.”

Understandable, really, he thought. She was always the gentlest of the four of them, and he understood at that point that it wasn’t primarily the coldblooded, coldhearted expression she wore back then, nor the way she undertook her killings that startled his initial re-perception of her. Rather, it was the sudden change she had gone through and he had experienced for the first time that did. Deep down, he knew even thinking of inflicting pain on another person was akin to asking her to swallow glass or worse yet, burn the field she'd spent her whole life planting.

“Warm and Cold. It’s fitting. And I never judged you for it. You surely went through trials of your own, and to disregard it for my own selfish wants would be to betray you.”

He continued, shifting his view off her face and onto the now-starlit night. “Still, though. The moon and stars are beautiful today. I… want you to see it. I know I just said it’d be selfish, but it kind of hurts me when you aren’t able to fully enjoy the place I know resides closest to your heart.”

A shiver zapped across her entire body, and she shook her head. “It’s… I can’t. If I open my eyes… bad things happen.”

“What kind?”

“The worst kind.”

Vague as her words were, Raoul knew more than enough about his closest friend to read intently into every little microexpression and hint her body unwittingly displayed to discern an educated guess as to what was plaguing her mind.

The worst kind. There were many things she held close to her heart, but among it all, the three of them were the closest.

“...I see. What if I hide behind the tree? You’ll be able to enjoy the view, if only for a little bit.”

“But you’ll be gone.”

“Only for a little bit. I want you to enjoy the view, if only for a little bit. Close your eyes if something happens and call out for me. I’ll be there in an instant.”

He could still sense the hesitation in her actions: the fidgeting of her fingers, the way she was fixing her dress despite there being little imperfections on it, and the way she was shifting her perception between the open sky and his voice behind her, as if trying to decide between which of the two was more important.

“I guess it’ll be me who’ll be selfish, then,” she finally agreed. “Please hide. I don’t want to see you when I open my eyes.”

Raoul was up within the second. Picking himself up, he tiptoed himself behind the wide trunk of the tree, making entirely sure all parts of him were out of her view. When that was done, he called out from behind. “All good. Whenever you’re ready.”

It was slow, and reeked of uncertainty. Her eyelids strained from the sudden request from her body to slide open after years of staying closed. From behind, her grey-blonde irises shrank, unused to the sudden influx of light despite the late hour.

Stars, as countless as the grains of sand. Each one could be clearly seen, marking the countless constellations that frequently displayed atop the world of Rynth.

“Wow…”

She raised a hand, as if trying to grasp them herself. There, where her pointer finger was, glimmered the resplendent, bow-shaped array of stars that made up the Rynthian Archer. The array by her ring finger glowed just as brightly, each of the dozen lining up perfectly to form the curving Aeonian Dragon. Finally, her pinky landed just below the great Hammer of Mysjati, said to be the source of all Jati itself.

It was said that for every lifeform on Rynth, there existed a star in space that carried their soul.

To that, Idri often giggled. If there were really that many stars, then why was nighttime still a thing? Wouldn’t the entire world be eternally bright no matter the day, then?

Her gaze fell downward. The landscape of gold stretched out far beyond what her eyes could see. Each stalk of wheat and grass were like grains of sand on the beach, each hill little bumps in the open sea that was Tel Midasia. She allowed her fingers to glide along the soft blades, sighing in bliss as it steered to allow her passage. Finally, she leaned rearward, lying down plainly on her back. The crown of the oak tree see-sawed in the evening wind, its leaves now a dreamy mix of biscotti and alabaster, creating a warm ivory glow somewhere between unbleached linen and raw beeswax.

From behind, the gentle, careful steps of Raoul brought him out of the bark’s right side.

“How is it?”

Squelch. Then a sharp puncture as the bladed end of a sword pierced through his spine, cracking bone and impaling him right up to its hilt. There was no time for reaction. The sword lifted up, carrying his body easily along with it as it drew closer to Idri in a cruel display of torment. Summoning what strength he had, Raoul raised a hand to reach out to her, coughing up disgusting amounts of blood from his mouth as he did.

“Idri…”

She shot up in that same instant, almost tripping over herself. A twisted look of horror overcame all her features, completely overpowering all sense of self. Her lips quivered. Teeth chattered. Her eyes drew wide, and her breathing staggered, catching in her lungs and forcing a series of desperate hacks and wheezes. To add insult to injury, her stomach twisted and turned, forcing her to fall to the ground as she beseeched her own body and mind to listen to her, but to no avail. She gripped her temples tightly, practically clawing into her skull.

“Hah… No… Not this…”

Then, as quick as it began, all was dark.

His voice once more entered her ears, soothing her worries like a lullaby to a child. His fingers reached over, slowly bidding her eyelids to fall over her pupils.

“Hey,” Raoul whispered. “It’s okay. You’re okay. I’m right here.”

Her trembling arms looped around his chest and pulled herself in, burying her face into his warm embrace without a word. Breathless wails and flowing tears pierced the silent night, and Raoul kept her close.

“Sorry. I shouldn’t have stepped out.”

“I’m sorry… I don’t want to look at you. It… happens after a short while after I open my eyes. Visions… of you dying. Of Avil and Cali dying, all in horrifying ways. It doesn’t stop, and I can’t stop it, no matter what I do.”

“I understand,” he replied, taking care to steady his tone so as to not startle her. “It’s my fault for being selfish and telling you to open them. I’ll be your eyes from now on, so you don’t have to use yours.”

Just then, a buzz sounded from his phone. Raoul raised an eyebrow, and while still holding Idri close, pulled the device out from his pocket and read the message that had popped up on his screen.

Krockodile: I found the BTC kid. And his maid, too. Lucky me. They don’t drift far away from each other, but starting tomorrow you should find them at his estate in Pirophel District. Go get ‘em.