49: Neritha

"Are you new?" I asked.

She glanced at me from the corner of her eye. "Are you?"

"Well, yes." I swallowed.

She cracked a smile and laid a hand on my back. If she hadn't tried to kill me once, I wouldn't have thought she was about to stab me from behind. I tensed and she must've noticed.

"I'm a friend..." she faltered and dropped her hand. She stepped away and stretched a hand to me. "Neritha."

I accepted her calloused hand. "December."

She lifted a grey brow. "Like the month?"

I managed a smile. "Like the month."

Neritha could've been the same age as me, but she seemed so much older. Tall and taut, she stood with confidence and talked with ease. A scar slit the edge of her lips and travelled up her cheek. Her straight neck-length hair, held back by many pins, was the same color as her eyes. A sword hung by her hips—the same sword she once tried to kill me with.

"You going up?"

I returned my gaze to her. "Yes."

And that was where most of our conversation ended. I stopped on the last level, where she also got off. She nodded me goodbye and left for Cyr's home.

Who was she? What relationship did she have with Cyr? Did Cyr ask her to attack the capital?

Questions muddled my mind and laid like a dark haze over my vision, trapping me in place to ponder and wonder in an endless cycle, only answers could break.

I stared up the tree, relaying the events of the night before. My chest tightened, at the thought of Philip. Where was he and was he alright? I rounded the tree and started up the ladder, wondering how I had got down the night before.

His words replayed in my mind and suddenly Neritha seemed little in comparison. I knew a drunk man's words shouldn't be taken to heart, but don't our hearts speak for us when our brains can't. All our dirty little secrets and wishes are laid out in the open when that potion slides down our throats. But, it was said by Philip of all people, someone who could smile so largely after looking Kreatier's enemies in the eye and surviving. I didn't know what to make of it. Was it said in the moment, or had it perhaps come from somewhere deeper?

Or was it said out of gratitude? Said between friends? Yes, friends said things of that sort, right? I was his friend who was there for him when he was in a dark place. Nothing more, nothing less, friends.

The platform was empty. The blue had replaced the black sky and the top of the trees laid out before my feet, stretching as far as I could see. The bottle laid exactly where it had laid the night before. I picked it up, tucked it into my belt and climbed back down the ladder.

As soon as my foot touched the floor, the elevator door slid open and Philip stepped out. His eyes red-rimmed and his hair ruffled, my scarf circling his neck. He gave me a small hesitant smile. I inched towards him, but a figure in the corner of my vision kept me from moving any closer.

Neritha exited Cyr's home and started across the bridge. Philip looked from her to me, furrowing his brows. I pursed my lips and hoped the message was understood.

She came to stand before us, glanced at Philip but kept her gaze on me. "Nice meeting you December. I'll see you around."

She entered the elevator and disappeared down the tree.

A storm of emotions took Philip's face.

Cyr appeared at his door. Philip followed my gaze to Cyr. I found myself thinking in that moment, take his hand and run. Leave and never return. Escape this trap we've found ourselves under. I smiled at how unrealistic that dream was. Every second away I'd regret.

Cyr motioned for us. I started across the bridge first and Philip followed a moment after.

"December," Cyr said, he's gaze travelling to Philip. "And Marigold is it?"

Philip nodded stiffly. His fists clenched at his sides. Cyr kept his gaze on Philip for a moment too long before his eyes jumped back to me with a sugary smile.

"I'd like to ask something of you," Cyr said. "That young women, you just passed. I'd like to know, who she will meet next. Won't you follow her for me?"

"Of course," I answered before I could hesitate.

"Yes," Philip choked out.

Before I knew it Philip and I were in the elevator, in a silence I couldn't quite comprehend. He stared off into space, motionless. Just watching him like this, tore me apart. With a hidden courage, I slipped my hand in his. He looked over at me, startled.

"He's gonna be okay," I whispered. "And you will be as well. I promise."

He pulled away. His simple action cutting through my like a cold knife. It hurt not because he pushed me away but because I had made myself believe that I could help him.

He shook his head and looked ahead.

Brush me off. Tell me no. As long as you heal. As much as I told myself this, it never quite settled.

~~~

Neritha entered a pub in a town not too far off. Through the pub window, I watched her take an empty stool. Before I could enter as well, a large hand clasped my wrist. Philip. We had barely spoken to each other the whole time, which was unusual for him of all people. But I wasn't going to force him. I'd just be here, waiting for his return.

His eyes void of emotion, he slipped the scarf off his shoulders and placed it in my arms. I didn't know what to make of his actions nor what he would say next.

"I don't want to have you by my side," he said, eyes trained on the pavement, "and tell you I won't hurt you knowing that that isn't true."

"So hurt me," I said, "hurt me and I'll forgive you. Hurt me a hundred times, and I'll forgive you every time because I know that every time you do, you won't mean it." I teetered on the edge of calm. His words were the last of what I wanted to hear out of him.

"Don't say that Mo," he grunted, "you don't know that. You don't know me."

But instead of making me mad his words drove through my heart like a nail hammered into my chest.

"You said," I said, my chest squeezing so tight I couldn't breathe. "You said whatever I'd do you'd forgive me. Why won't you let me do the same?"

He gnashed his teeth and looked away. "I don't want to have anything that you need to forgive me for."

"So this is it? You'll throw me away once you've had enough of me. Will you be the man everyone thinks you are?"

"At least I won't be the man that hurts you."

"What are you so scared of?!" I snapped.

"Myself!" He shouted. "I'm scared of what I could do to you. Of what I could do to the people by my side. You don't get it Mo, I'm, I'm, a knight. I've done things I can't ever forgive myself for, in the name of the king or not."

I didn't realize I was crying till a tear stained my scarf. "So, is this how you'll live? You'll make someone your friend and push them away whenever you'd like." I pushed away the tears. "You'll make them feel so precious then break them in two?"

His eyes glassy, he looked off. "Believe me, it's hard for me as well."

"Keep your promise then," I said, swallowing and stepping away, "don't hurt me worse than you already have."

He finally met my gaze. But his was hard and unlike him. He nodded. "That's what I want."

I nodded, not really knowing what to do next. How does one just walk away with such emotion, after being turned inside out and turned away. Betrayed, was it called?

"I'll go."

He nodded, looking away.

I stepped away but I needed him to know one last thing. "You're not the only one who's scared of themselves. Do you think it was easy to let you in? You can fear yourself all you want. But while you're stuck being scared of everything that could go wrong you're missing out on everything that could go well. And that's something you thought me."

I left. And though I said I'd forgive him, I couldn't help but resent him. I wished he'd never treated me the way he did. I wished he'd kept his distance. I wished I'd never let him in. I wished we'd never met. But at the same time I knew I'd miss him. And as hurt as I was, I had been waiting for this moment the second we became friends, I just wished it never would. Confusing as it sounds it was as confused as I felt.

I didn't realize how much I'd cried until I bumped into someone and looked up to blurry vision.

"Sorry," she said, her voice oddly familiar. "Are you alright? I didn't hurt you, did I?"

"No," I sniffled, rubbing my scarf into my eyes. "Sorry I wasn't looking where I was going." And then I saw her face, and I didn't want to believe I did.

"I usually can see perfectly fine, despite—well the obvious." She motioned to her bandaged eyes. I regarded her, barely breathing. "I'm not sure what you're going through, but I hope it gets better. It always does, I promise." She smiled and walked away, leaving me gawking at her back. She met Neritha outside the pub I had just left and they hugged before entering.

It could have been any other person. It could've been anyone at all. But it was KB.

A/n: I apologize for the very very late update. I wasn't writing for a while because my writer's self-esteem had hit rock bottom after my teacher didn't like something I wrote. And I had contemplated quitting. But I love it too much to give up on it so now I want to try my best to improve.