They left the Summer Tower.

Christina accompanied him for two reasons. First, she was not yet ready to go out on her own, her legs were shaking and she was breathing almost as if the punctured lung had not yet healed. Second, because he needed to talk to her.

The day had been like a long nightmare with no end. To process everything that had happened....

And what hadn't happened, what was perhaps most important, he needed to talk to her, who had a perspective he didn't and was the only person he could talk to.

Well, no. Maybe not the only person.

But he had not yet dared to ask about the survivors. To ask if he had "died" for something, and Amy was alive. He was a coward. He knew it.

Desmond walked over to the railing. He leaned against it more out of necessity than anything else, and looked around.

He thought he'd see the same thing he'd already seen from the window.

But he didn't. The forest was a mess. Partly because of the ordeal, but mostly... surely, mostly because of the blue fire of the spider. He didn't remember it clearly, but apart from fallen trees, one could see the burnt vegetation.

The smell of blood, dust and the burning smell hung in the air. It was unmistakable.

Part of the burning smell was also coming from the spider's skeleton, which had not yet been removed, as they were focusing on removing the debris and recovering the corpses. As far as possible.

He reached out for the pommel of his sword, realizing it was nowhere to be found only when what he touched was air.

Now that he thought about it, he didn't remember using it in his fight against the spider.

So where was it? Fuck.

He didn't have the money to buy a sword of that quality again. Not soon, anyway.

The day was getting worse and worse.

If he'd known...

If he'd known, he still would have gotten on the train. He didn't regret the decisions that had led him here. Things could have turned out better, though. He could have avoided dying, for example.

Avoided getting Christina in trouble, who had been forced to lie for his sake.

Well. Not exactly.

She could have left him in the hands of fate. But she hadn't. She'd helped him, though nothing forced her to, again. He could never repay her for all she'd done for him today. And what she would do in the future. His debts would no doubt continue to pile up.

Why was he thinking about it as if he were anticipating it? Grinning like a fool.

He turned serious, as he should. Because he had other things to focus on.

“So this is the victory we have bought in exchange for so many lives. " He looked around once more, as if to see something new. Something he didn't already know. Looking at this, it doesn't look like we've won, though.

Christina was looking down with a grim expression. Thinking the same as him, because you couldn't think anything else when you saw a scene like this.

But he was wrong.

She raised her head and proved him wrong.

“We're alive and they're not. That's more than enough victory for me. Besides, they've lost soldiers. We have lost only children. It's clear who has taken a bigger hit."

Desmond clenched his fists so hard they shook.

He wasn't angry with her.

He had no reason to be. He was angry at himself and at the world, as usual. He felt powerless. He felt like a stupid little boy. After the kiss, false as it was, he had felt as if he were walking on clouds. But the euphoria hadn't lasted long.

He was awake now. Eyes open, feet on the ground.

“Are you saying this to make me feel better or because you really believe it?"

A bit of both, perhaps, judging by the expression that crossed her beautiful face.

Either way, she was wrong. He knew she was.

“They didn't choose to attack the academy by chance. Hope lies in the future. The children are that future. That's why they did it, because it would be a great blow to the morale of the kingdom. Or do you know something I don't?"

Christina looked away. As he thought.

“Yes, but no. Jacob thought they'd come here to capture him."

“But?"

“But, when they had the chance, the leader sought to execute him. He wasn't bluffing."

Desmond nodded.

“So... So many people died because they had to make a war hero a director."

Basically putting a target on their backs.

He knew that, in time, he would have to shed the notion of having a special, meaningful death in order to endure life as a soldier.

In fact, he had already experienced a miserable and insignificant death.

Even thinking that he had saved Amy's life, though he hadn't doubted at the time, he couldn't be sure that it had been worth it. To have such a death. To change nothing. He hadn't come this far for his path to end that way....

As he said, he had to get rid of that notion of a death like that.

Because, among other things, that was too close to a death wish for his liking.

But to think that the children who had given their lives here, in defense of their country... No, just desperately fighting for their lives... That they wouldn't have had to die if Jacob hadn't been given the position of headmaster made his heart ache.

He didn't know them. He would never know them.

But he was sure they deserved better because they were human.

“I didn't say that. You're right. They would have attacked this academy, with or without Jacob. Because what they intended to do was to resume the war with as big a hit as possible."

Yes. In truth, Jacob had only made the academy a more tempting target.

But he couldn't have changed those events.

It sounded logical. He had no way of knowing if it was the truth or not, but it was simultaneously logical and what he preferred to believe. It didn't change anything. It didn't make this massacre any less harsh, any less tragic. Less unnecessary. But, somehow, it made it easier to bear. That would have to be enough.

For the moment, he said to himself.

“So you admit we've lost? That we've been dealt that blow?"

Christina shook her head in exasperation. Had he screwed up again, without knowing it?

“You're so stubborn, and so negative. They attacked a school and yet every last one of them was slaughtered, plus they lost an expensive war machine. You think that's going to make them look good? That it's going to lift the spirits of our enemies?"

She wasn't wrong about that either. Still...

Desmond descended the stairs slowly. Very carefully, not because he was overly concerned, but because he had to, and he wanted to avoid falling down like an idiot, even though they were the only two outside.

Precisely because of that. The pair of eyes upon him was the one he was most worried about now.

“But they'll tell it the way in the way that suits them best. They'll make it look like a victory, something to be proud of. Those animals...

“They'll try," Christina replied, behind him. Decisive, cutting.

“And it will certainly work. They'll swallow the propaganda being spread, like the good cattle they are. "

“It will work with some people. Many. But not all. Not with the soldiers who will have to give their lives in this war, and if it does, not for long. This didn't do any good. They gained nothing. "

Desmond pushed his hair out of his face with one hand.

“Nothing is saying too much. But I suppose you're right.“ He wished he was as convinced as she was, though.

Why was he so focused on that anyway? Even if he had fought to the end, even if he had saved a lot of people without dying in the process, he could never have done anything to turn the tide.

To turn this victory that looked like a defeat into a victory, plain and simple.

He had done the best he could.

For better or worse, that was certain. And, about that, he would have to wait for the future to give him the answer.

Desmond approached the spider.

He thought he saw movement out of the corner of his eye, and his heart thumped like the blow of a hammer, leaving him with a dull ache in his chest.

But there was only movement in his imagination. The spider couldn't come back to life after being torn apart. After its power source had been taken away. It had never had life in the first place. It was nothing more than a machine.

“When I was little, this thing came to destroy everything. It ravaged my city, set it on fire and wrapped it all up in its webs. Now it is nothing more than a grim monument to the power of the Azure Empire. Like so many other things: cities, people, dreams."

Yes, he had lost so much and had been trapped in the web.

He would never escape, nor did he want to. The course of his life had changed irrevocably that day and he had no qualms about the mission he had to accomplish.

Not to do so would be to dishonor the memory of his parents, of his sister, something unforgivable, even though he barely remembered them.

Although they were like ghosts to him.

And also for her, who had saved him that day. He didn't believe she was dead. He didn't want to believe she was dead. But if he had put his head down to live a normal life instead of going down this path, it would have been like spitting in her face. Like saying "you saved me for nothing".

But there was something simpler, more important even.

He was far from being the only insect that had been caught in that web.

He was fighting for all the lost souls the Empire had left in its path of destruction. Even those who had fallen today would take root in him.

“My parents were crushed under the rubble. My sister died the same way. But I did not." He smiled almost as if he had said something funny. "Evidently."

He ran his hand over the spider's corpse.

The metal of which the lifeless machine was composed was cold as death.

“I should have died with my family...."

“Please don't talk like that."

Desmond looked her in the eye. She had misunderstood him. He hadn't meant it that way.

It was a short, simple explanation, but seeing the anguish on her face, he couldn't find the words.

First he had to undo the lump in his throat.

“I should have died with my family, but a woman saved me."

He gritted his teeth. Her, that woman.

“I wish I had a better way to refer to her apart from saviour. She appeared that day and disappeared without a trace. I don't know her name, I don't even know why she saved me that day, exactly, when she might as well have concentrated her efforts on literally anyone else. Maybe... Maybe it was fate."

Fate. A strange, heavy word in his mouth, heavy as the lives that were swept away by its current.

Was it something he believed in or something he wanted to believe in? No, he already had the answer to that. Like a meaningful death, that was a sweet idea he liked to cling to, for lack of an explanation. For lack of her presence in his life.

Because, if he had nothing, he could at least create something.

Everyone needed a reason to go on.

Life was sad and fragile. It was much easier to destroy than to create. It was much easier to give up than to fight, because giving up only took a moment.

“Why are you telling me this?"

“Because I think it's time we had an honest conversation. If we keep putting it aside, it will soon be too late."

Desmond dropped his hand.

And turned away. That spider was like a representation of his ruined, unrecoverable past. He had to look to the future. If there was one thing he was known for, it was to have his eyes fixed on the future, wasn't it?

He walked towards Christina, who was still sitting there on the porch, staring at him.

It was good to feel like the centre of someone's attention, despite the nature of this conversation. Of what he was looking for. A separation that, in time, would prove to be for the good of both of them. He didn't want to hurt anyone and he didn't want to get hurt.

However, this had to be done. And if Christina didn't take the step, then it was his responsibility.

“You lied for me. You felt the need to do it. In other words, you are risking the consequences of lying to cover for me. Even though I'm nothing to you. For some reason, you've clung to me the same way I clung to the woman who saved me in order to move on. And I don't think... I don't think something that starts out this bad can end well."

If a building lacks a good foundation, it will eventually collapse under its own weight.

The same applied to people.

Two people without a good foundation... No, two people who had already collapsed under their own weight, could they support each other? Could anything good come of it? He wanted to believe that it could.

He wanted to believe it.

Christina pursed her lips.

She didn't look angry, offended or surprised, though. As if she'd been waiting for this ever since she' d asked him to accompany her outside. Consciously or unconsciously.

“What are you trying to say?"

“I will confess the truth and accept the consequences. After all, they can't be as terrible as I've imagined. They wouldn't go that far."

He was talking about the kingdom to which he had devoted his life, after all. He had no reason to think that anything wrong would happen. It was paranoia, plain and simple.

“Desmond." How could her voice, in uttering a single word, hold so much?

She came down the short stairs, stood face to face with him.

And slapped him across the face without the slightest reservation. From the pain he felt, he'd say she had knocked out a tooth, but no, he couldn't taste his own blood.

“Oh, fuck. What was that for?"

“You rose from the dead. That's something I've never seen. That's something every person in this kingdom, without exception, would want for themselves, no matter what the cost."

Emotional, her voice was getting a little too high, they were alone, yes, but that could change at any moment. Maybe that's why she hugged him. Maybe.

She continued to whisper in his ear. Her lips almost brushed his ear.

“Do you understand? Not to mention our enemies on the other side of the world. And when I say anything, I mean anything. They would experiment on you..."

The very thing he had thought of.

So he tensed like a bowstring and his first impulse was to deny it with all his might.

“No." As when Christina had called him by name, it was a single word. Yet that single word of his contained nothing. Not even a poor imitation of conviction. He knew the truth, even if he wanted to deny it.

“Yes, they would. You know they would.

“We are different," he answered, despite everything.

“But immortality is too juicy a price to overlook for such "petty" things as morality."

Desmond closed his eyes.

“They would experiment on you, torture you to find out your secret, how you can do something no mage in all our history has ever been able to do, not even close."

A life of nothing but pain. A life of being used as a toy and discarded as such.

He couldn't think of a more terrible nightmare. A life that could not be called a life, like that of an animal, even though he was a human being.

He wasn't immortal, of course. Magic was part of the cycle of life, as was death. But, at best, or perhaps worse, he couldn't die unless it was of natural causes. Or he would be resurrected, his wounds regenerating, provided the right conditions were met, which was the most likely. He didn't know what they might be, though.

If they caught him, and they would want him if the truth came out as Christina had said it would, his only hope would be that they would overstep and kill him by accident.

He could only hope for death.

The very idea was enough to make him sick. That he couldn't deny that the kingdom he had given his life to would do that, the one he would fight for, even though he was aware of that, was worse. Much worse.

Christina squeezed him harder, digging her nails into him, clinging to him as if she were afraid they were going to take him right now.

“At best, you could look forward to a life as if you were an animal, forcing you to sire as many children as possible in the hope that your affinity or iterations of it would become more common in the population."

That wouldn't be a better life at all.

Surely in time he would be able to convince himself that it wasn't so bad after all. That it could have been so much better and many people (men, specifically, because women, all of them, without exception, would understand the horror of that hell without having to taste it) would say that life was a blessing.

But he had dreams. And he didn't want to spend his life locked in a cage. Even if it was made of gold.

“Don't give me any bullshit like that would be an ideal life. Don't even think about it."

Desmond smiled. It was as if he'd read his mind.

“I'm not entirely stupid enough to say that. But I'm stupider than I thought I was. I'm sorry. You're right, of course. And... I said those things to you too. Could you forgive me? Give me another chance?"

“Forgive you for what? You're right. I can't be as honest as you, but you're not wrong about me. Still, there's only one thing that bothers me...."

Christina broke away from him, finally.

“Tell me, why the fuck does it have to end badly?"

There was heat in Christina’s voice, like the rage he'd felt at the thought of the life he might fall into. That was part of what worried him. That... intensity that came from nowhere, and could burn them both if they were careless.

Still, hearing her say it that way put a smile on his face.

He held out a hand.

“Okay. Let's give it a chance."

They shook hands. Even if it didn't lead anywhere good, this was the real start of something. Of that, at least, he could be sure.

■

She couldn't be as sincere as he was, yes. And in more ways than one.

Even as Desmond was opening up in front of her, and especially now, in a moment of stillness and silence, Christina had been thinking about one thing. One detail that seemed vital.

Jacob had asked her if she could heal him, even though his wounds were incurable by magic.

When she' d said no, he'd just walked away.

Without asking him if he couldn't do the same thing he had done to Desmond with some of the fallen.

As if he knew she was lying and was just playing along. It didn't have to be interpreted in the worst possible way. Maybe, in the crushing disappointment, he had forgotten to ask that question. Or he had stopped caring.

In any case, if he knew she was lying, there was nothing she could do to avoid the possible consequences.

Not for Desmond and not for herself, not anymore.

And if he didn't know, she would be expected to do her thing the next time there was a crisis, in her career as a soldier... she was already committed to a lie she had told in the heat of the moment. If she couldn't come up with a good excuse, she was screwed.

But there was no lie so convenient as to make them believe without reservation that she'd been able to resurrect Desmond, but it wouldn't be possible with anyone else they put in front of her, no, of course not.

So she was screwed, one way or the other. It was just a matter of time.

If she didn't come up with something....

Desmond hadn't noticed. He hadn't thought about it. Maybe he would find out in the future, but not from her lips. He didn't need to know and worry unnecessarily. They had suffered the same thing today.

But as much as misery loved company, it would be petty and pointless to spread her pain if it would gain no one anything. Least of all herself.

“Hey..."

“Yes?"

What was the matter now, couldn't they have a moment's peace? Now, for some reason, he seemed even more apprehensive than before. He couldn't think why.

“You saw the survivors, didn't you? Among them... there was a girl who...."

Christina’s eyes opened wide.

Desmond was talking about the girl he'd literally died for, taking a shot aimed at her. Fuck, she wouldn't be surprised if the headmaster had forgotten to ask the question, if even she had forgotten something that important.

How long had doubt and fear been eating away at him, wondering if it had been worth anything, his sacrifice?

From the first moment Desmond had woken up... that would be if he had remembered dying, but he hadn't.. So it couldn't have come to him so quickly. Still, he must have spent too much time with that dark doubt rolling around in his head.

“She's alive. Don't worry, you saved her."

“Thank you. You've taken a big load off my mind."

“So you remember. How you died. I wasn't sure about that."

“Yes." Crossed his hands behind his back. “Can't say I wish I didn't. I died instantly, without even realizing I was doing it."

“They say it's the best way to die."

“But it seems the worst to me. When I die... When I die for real, I want to be aware of every second... But enough of this morbid talk. I don't want to make you feel any worse than you must be feeling, and I haven't been doing a very good job of that. “He shook his head. I'm... I'm going to go and see her. "

“I'll go with you."

“Why? "

“Because we're a team, Desmond. "

“I see. “He smiled, but looked at her as if he didn't quite believe it.

Christina couldn't blame him.

Christina couldn't say what was happening to her either. If these feelings were genuine or if she had simply anchored herself to Desmond's need to belong somewhere, to have someone, mistaking it for her own.

If this boy's feelings were shaping her in a different way.

Still, this felt right to her.

For the moment, it was enough.

I'll make you believe in it, she thought. Because, for better or worse, we're a team. I don't think I'm going to be able to leave you alone.

■

Christina walked back into the tower, and he followed close behind.

Of course. There hadn't been enough survivors to have been forced to repeat them between the towers, Amy could only be there. He should have imagined it, but he wasn't thinking. His head was foggy with pain and exhaustion.

Yes, Amy was there. But they didn't find her resting on her bed. She was wandering around, even though she didn't seem to be in any condition to do so.

Well, he couldn't criticize her, he had done the same. Because he simply couldn't sit still.

“Amy.

She heard him, gasped. She looked at him as if she'd seen a ghost.

She approached him with a staggering step. He thought of what to say, but could think of nothing.

And he was hugged for the second time in the same day.

“I'm so glad you're all right," she said, on the verge of tears.

Only then did he realize that from her point of view exactly that had happened. That she had seen a ghost. The last she had heard from him was his "death". For some reason, she hadn't seen what had happened to the spider.

What he had done to that monster.

She tentatively hugged him back.

“But I don't understand. I... I... I saw you die. This isn't happening, is it?"

“Listen to me," Christina said, seeing that he was speechless. "He died, it's true. But I brought him back to life."

Amy broke away from him. Her gaze passed between the two of them.

“Impossible. That can't... "

“Forget about what's supposed to be possible or not. You saw how the bullet went through his heart. And now he's here, standing right in front of you. It's more than possible. It's real."

“I... “Amy swallowed. She ducked her head. I'm sorry. Because of me, you... If I'd stayed where I was supposed to be, if I hadn't tried, because of my stupid pride...."

“I made a decision and I paid for it. You don't need to complicate it by blaming yourself, because it's not your fault." The words finally came out. And it even sounded good, even if it wasn't something he believed himself, not entirely.

I mean, he didn't mean to blame her. He didn't hate her for it. But it's not like she was blameless, going out into battle in that state.

Still, as he had thought before, he would have done the same in her place.

He wouldn't have left his fate in other people's hands even if he could barely move.

So there was no point in getting angry at her for anything.

“And thank you... Thank you... What's your name?“ When she turned her head to look at the girl beside him, he saw that the tears were no longer in her eyes.

That they had spilled over.

He couldn't hold her gaze any longer.

She just feels guilty, he reminded himself. That's all it is. It's not because of you. There was nothing special between them.

Why did he feel so ashamed that his cheeks had flushed, anyway? What kind of idiot was he? A woman like that would never notice him, let alone so soon, without them having barely interacted, he wasn't that handsome. Ha, quite the opposite.

Besides, he'd come to this place to be a soldier. Not to chase skirts.

“I'm sorry for worrying you all this time," Desmond said. "I should have come for you at once, but I was afraid to ask after you and hear that it had been for nothing, my death. That you were dead."

Amy looked at him, incredulous. Christina seemed to share the sentiment.

“What a strange person you are. “Amy wiped away her tears with the back of one hand. In your position, every person would demand an apology. And in no case would they apologize. Or at least they would only do it to make themselves look good, without feeling it."

Desmond shrugged.

“Well, they should," feeling like an idiot, feeling very out of place.

“Are you aware of the situation? “Christina asked. For a second, he thought she was addressing him, for some reason. Too self-conscious.

“Enough. We've won, but at what cost? Among the students, there are only the three of us and seven others left."

“And what about what's going to happen now? With the academy?"

“I haven't heard anything about that, no. No. I'd say the obvious is going to happen. But if you've asked me that, there's a reason."

Amy went to sit down on one of the benches in the corridor, once there she sighed with relief.

“You should sit down too," Christina said. He didn't argue.

He put his back against the wall just in front of the bench, crossed his ankles, his arms.

“Desmond knows some of this, but only some."

Some?

“Yes, don't look at me like that. The director let me in with him to make you talk, if you were uncooperative. And to tell you what I'm going to tell you now. Survivors are free to team up. They won't even object to an extra member, so as not to separate those who want to stay together... although that wouldn't have been a problem for us. We have the perfect number right here."

“You don't even have to ask. I don't know who else is left, but I don't know them, I don't care about them. And I'm not going to risk getting with people who haven't been through their first battle. The team wouldn’t work like that.

"I didn't ask you," said Christina, "but you agree, don't you?"

“All perfect as far as I'm concerned."

“Well, that's fine."

“It's settled," said all three of them at once, as if they had rehearsed it.

■

“Yes, it's confirmed. He's one of them. No doubt, I saw his heart regenerate.... No, how a new heart grew in his chest. No, there's no sign of the target. She seems to have left him to his own devices, but, knowing her, she must be keeping watch. Yeah. Yes. We'll be in touch."