Author's Note: Thanks to all who reviewed Merwyn. I'm so glad that I decided to write and post this! It's been a really good growing experience for me in my writing! Thanks to Ann for the editing and advice! Please read and review, and I hope you guys all like the end! Happy holidays!


Chapter 9

Merwyn struggled violently for control of the knife. Her fingers dug deep into the Witch's skin, making imprints in the surface, as she tried to make the Witch drop the blade. It didn't work. Merwyn gritted her teeth, and tried a different tactic. She pushed hard against the Witch's steel grip, trying to throw her off balance, but the Witch remained determined, and the knife's blade inched nearer to her throat, the tip dangerously close to her soft flesh.

Everything seemed to be moving slow and fast, both at once, and she could hear all the little noises being made off in the distance. She could hear the rough scratching noises made by Edward's paws, as he paced frantically outside of the invisible shield. Merwyn could hear the Witch's breath coming out in harsh sobs that made it seem as if she would pass out eventually from hyperventilation. But, the Witch continued to be curiously strong, and she set her mouth and used the rest of her strength to bring the knife down on Merwyn.

Merwyn groaned loudly as she forcibly pushed the knife away from her throat. Her arm muscles burned with the effort, but she was able to lodge her knee into the Witch's stomach and shove the Witch off of her. The Witch landed on the ground with a hollow thud, and Merwyn hopped to her feet quickly.

"Leave me alone! I've done nothing to you!" she shouted, and the sound of her screaming voice surprised her, and she felt more confident now that she knew her voice wasn't trembling. She could do this. She could fight this woman who had destroyed her entire life. She could do it, because she had to.

The Witch shook her head back and forth like a dog shaking off water. "No. You will die, if it is the last thing I do." The bitterness that had formerly colored her voice was gone; it was now empty and hollow. Even her eyes were devoid of any telling emotion, and that fact alone was enough to frighten Merwyn even more.

Merwyn's heart was beating like a drum within her chest, and the adrenaline running through her body had begun to make her weary. Her knees were wobbling, and her hands were shaking. She briskly brushed a lock of hair out of her eyes, and her nostrils flared and she breathed in. No. She could not think of her bodily needs just now, she had to be completely focused on the knife in the Witch's hand, her mind bent on survival.

Edward was still howling angrily over and over, the invisible shield had made him utterly helpless. He tried uselessly one more time to jump onto the shield, hoping that he had found its weak spot. He didn't, and he was thrown vigorously back. He landed on the ground with a loud smack and he whimpered softly. It was no use, he couldn't get to her.

From the corner of Merwyn's eye, she could see the grey wolf with no name motionless, calm as the sea after a storm, staring at her unblinkingly, with a fear in his eyes that was unusual coming from the guise of such a great beast. She to forget his haunted eyes, and concentrate once more on the fight, but the Witch was still in the same spot she had been a few minutes earlier, she had not moved.

Unnerved, Merwyn untied her cloak, and let it fall silently to the ground, the heavy weight off her shoulders made her more comfortable. She kicked the cloak away from her feet. She was ready now. As ready as she would ever be, and so she stood taller and planted her feet firmly beneath her, and prepared for the next rampant attack from the Witch.

The Witch seemed to be listening to a sound in the distance that only she could hear, and she bobbed her head in acknowledgment. Then, without warning, the Witch lunged maniacally at Merwyn, her knife wielded again before her, and Merwyn neatly moved out of the blade's reach and grabbed the Witch's arm with a sickening twist that brought the Witch to her knees.

"Ahhh!" the Witch cried out in agony, her yellowed flesh going pale.

Then a red darkness fell over Merwyn, and she was no longer in control of her actions. She gave herself over to instinct. Her vision blurred, her senses dimmed and she reacted without conscious thought.

A sharp pain extended up the length of her arm, and she jerked back reflexively and held it gingerly against her chest.

Merwyn blinked mechanically and focused her gaze toward the ground where the Witch was on her knees, hands clasped tightly to her side. She was gaping in horrified shock at her wound, and blood softly colored her lips, making them look a dark stain against her unnaturally pallid skin.

Merwyn felt a cool metal against her skin, and she dazedly peered at her hand and saw the knife in her palm. Stunned, she dropped the blade, and stumbled clumsily backward. A wave of sickness rose over her and she covered her mouth with her trembling palm to contain it, her eyes widened and grew watery. That must have been the cause of the pain up her arm! She had stabbed the Witch and hit bone in the process. "What have I done?" she whispered to herself.

The invisible shield had begun to fade intermittently between a faint blue sheen when it flashed solid, and invisibility. Then it dropped away completely as the Witch's strength waned further. Edward and the nameless wolf came bounding up to Merwyn, both looking alarmed.

Edward inquired whether Merwyn was okay or not, and she numbly shook her head in confirmation, and he gave her a wary, unbelieving glance. "Later," he said in an uncharacteristically gruff voice, and Merwyn nodded tersely back. Then he strode cautiously toward the fallen form of the Witch.

The Witch reached out a hand to touch his fur; Edward flinched as if burned, and then was still. Her lips moved slowly as she said something to him, and only the nameless wolf's worried grey eyes staring into hers pulled Merwyn's focus away from the scene.

"Are you well? I know Edward just asked you that, but—you don't seem fine." He observed; his voice strained. He was trembling slightly, with anger or fear, Merwyn did not know.

She half-smiled, raked a hand through her long auburn locks, and then, the façade of the smile disappeared and she let out a short choppy sob that ended nearly as soon as it began. "What have I done?" she repeated aloud, anguish in her voice.

The grey wolf brushed his paw against her arm in what was meant to be a comforting gesture, but it looked quite awkward, almost as if he was petting her. She didn't seem to notice.

"Look at me," he said softly. Her eyes met his, and he held her gaze for a brief moment. "You did what you had to. Nothing more, nothing less. You don't need to feel guilty about her, okay?"

Merwyn bit her bottom lip in contemplation, but she couldn't stop seeing the image of the Witch on her knees, bleeding profusely from her stomach wound, dying. It was burned into her brain, something that would haunt her until she died.

"I know." She didn't sound as if she truly believed what she had said.

"Merwyn, she would have killed you." He said reasonably, a pleading tone in his voice.

"I know."

"Then, why do you look that way? As if you would rather it were you dying than her?" He was frustrated now, and he lifted his paw off of her arm, and set it firmly on the ground. "I don't understand. She's not worth a moment of your remorse, Merwyn!"

"I don't know. It's just that, I… someone is dying… because of me. She's my grandmother, and I killed her. I know I shouldn't feel guilty about it, I know! She's done such horrible things to me." She bit her lip as she tried to find the right words that would make him understand. "I—I don't want to be like her. If I am capable of murder, I am capable of other terrible things too. And I know that I'm so closing to being like that." She pointed with her eyes toward the fallen form of the Witch, who was still conversing intensely with Edward.

Ruskon followed her gaze, and then shook his head in exasperation. "You didn't commit murder, Merwyn. Murder and defending yourself are two different things. You defended yourself. And secondly, you're wrong. You're nothing like her! How could you even think that?" He sounded outraged, and Merwyn's brows creased in confusion.

"How would you know?! You don't even know me." She hung her head in the cradle of her hands.

"You're wrong, I do know you."

Merwyn's head lifted at that. "How?"

Ruskon took an unnecessarily deep breath, and nodded his head, accepting the fact that he could hide no longer. His concern had already revealed too much, and unlike Edward, his curse did not bind him to silence when it regarded Merwyn. So, in essence, there was no real reason not to tell her what had happened to him, except for his own cowardice. He was afraid to admit to her that he had failed. He had let himself be cursed, and he had barely fought back. He was afraid to tell her that he didn't think himself worthy of her, because he couldn't protect her. And maybe if he told her these things, she wouldn't want him anymore. But, being a coward was not something Ruskon took kindly too, and so he decided he would tell her. "It's me, Ruskon," he said lamely.

Merwyn momentarily forgot all about everything else. "Ruskon?" Her voice brightened considerably. She took in his wolfish countenance and she grew grave. "What happened to you?"

Her curse prevented her from remembering any interactions that she had with Edward. But, as the Witch's incredible powers began to dissipate, Merwyn realized that pieces, little fragments of memories began to become clear in her mind. But, they were so disconnected, and frail, that she had trouble understanding them, and now that Ruskon had declared himself, Merwyn could almost remember a meeting in the night. A harvest moon that had hung low over head, bathing her and another figure that she could not quite remember in a silvery glow that had set her hair afire. A curse. Yes, that was it. The shadowy figure had mentioned a curse, and she was sure it meant Ruskon.

"The Witch cursed me. She knew that we were planning to escape, and she wanted to separate us. Forever." The last word sounded awkward as he uttered it, and he half-turned away from her so that she could not see his face. He was ashamed of how he looked. He was a monster, and a doomed one at that.

"The curse! It's coming to an end! I found the key to it! It was in a book, and with the Witch's death… it will almost be broken." Almost. A sacrifice still had to be made. Someone who loved her must die, and she grew ever more terrified that she could not control her circumstances. She had never been able to control her situation before, but this was a time that she wished beyond all wishes that she could shield herself, and those she loved from the horrible things that always seemed to happen to her. She was a beacon for tribulation, and she knew it. Anything terrible that had happened to Ruskon was partially her fault. The Witch had wanted her to suffer, and by hurting Ruskon, she had gravely wounded Merwyn. Merwyn still felt a pang of guilt as she rejoiced in the Witch's death; she was the cause of it. She was a murderer, it didn't matter what Ruskon said. She knew what she was.

Ruskon nodded in agreement. He felt instinctively that everything was coming to end. It was part of his curse that made him have a deep connection with the Witch. He could hear some her thoughts and she his, and they had tormented him in his sleep so that he could find no rest. He shuddered to remember some of the malevolent thoughts the Witch had had. But he did not tell this to Merwyn.

Merwyn saw the look of sorrow on Ruskon's face, and misinterpreted his expression as brooding over their situation; she did the only thing she could think of, she hugged him tightly. "We won't think of it again. Don't worry, Ruskon, " she cooed into his ear. "Don't worry." She pulled away from him to measure his face. Ruskon smiled crookedly at her, it was a smile that he had often given her when he was human, and in his wolf form it looked odd, and slightly malicious. She laughed melodically at his strange face and hugged him again. "It's good to know you're alive, even if you are a beast now." She teased slightly, her heart not truly in it.

He shot her a sarcastic glance and then was serious. "So you see? I do know you could be nothing like the Witch. I know you. Don't worry, Merwyn. You did what was right."

She gave him a wounded smile, and accepted the fact.

Ruskon snorted. "I was worried for a second there that you wouldn't make it out of this." He said it jokingly, but she could hear the underlying strain in his tone.

Merwyn brought a hand up to touch the side of his snout, and then to run her fingers over his thick grey fur. "You worry too much."

She hoped that the riddle was true and that when the Witch was dead that the curse would be broken for good. She didn't want Ruskon to have to spend eternity as a wolf, and she could tell that it had already changed him. He seemed much darker now than the impish boy who was first was banished into the wood. She hoped that boy would return, but maybe too much had happened to him for him to be the way he used to be.

Merwyn's attention wandered regretfully back to the Witch and Edward. The Witch had finally stopped speaking in whispers to Edward, and her hand that was grasping at his fur coat, fell lamely to her side.

Edward's eyes were dark with emotion as he backed away from her, and Merwyn and Ruskon migrated toward him. He stood unmoving before them; next to the Witch, who was not yet dead. Her eyes were fixed on Merwyn.

"Merwyn?" The Witch's voice was weak and hard to hear.

Merwyn gulped audibly. "Yes?" Ruskon pressed closer to her for support, her fingertips brushed the thick of his fur in grateful acknowledgment.

"Do you love this boy standing next to you?"

Merwyn turned her head to look down at Ruskon, and her breath caught in her throat, because instead of the body of a wolf as she had been expecting, she saw two human legs. Ruskon was standing beside her, a human and no longer a beast.

This time she let herself cry in earnest, and Ruskon hugged her ardently, pressing his face into her long hair, not caring that his shirt was getting soaked from her tears, and then he released her so that she could answer the Witch.

Ruskon was human again! That was the one thought that ran through her mind. He was restored to her. He was restored.

Merwyn used the back of her hand to wipe away the rest of her tears, and she gazed at Edward for encouragement. The darkness in his eyes lifted as he looked at her, nodded for her to answer. "It's okay." He mouthed, and she took comfort in his stolid presence.

"Yes, I do." Merwyn said tentatively. Ruskon tightly grasped her hand in his. What might happen to her if the Witch knew that she experienced some measure of happiness? It might all be taken in away in a second, never to return.

The Witch let out a gurgling laugh that chilled Merwyn deep into her bones. "You need not fear me, Merwyn. I'm dying. And soon your curse will be broken, and you will know what it is to live in the real world. You've won." The words were weighted coming out of the Witch's mouth, and her hands clasped tighter to her stomach where the wound was oozing blood, and all the blood that had been lost already was pooled on the ground and had seeped into the dry earth, staining it a morbid brownish-red color. "I am killed, Merwyn. But , you've read the riddle, no? I still get a bit of revenge. You know that my death is not enough. I must have a life for a life." The Witch coughed harshly, and blood speckled against her fist as she brought it to her mouth. "A sacrifice must be made, surely you didn't forget?"

Merwyn's heart dropped into her stomach, and she stood frozen like a deer in the path of a hunter, knowing that all had been lost in that split second of life. "What is your price? What sacrifice must be made?" Merwyn asked, her voice no more than a mere whisper. Her fingers dug deeply into Ruskon's skin, leaving red marks against the pink flesh, and he squeezed her hand with equal fervor. No, they could not be separated now, and so newly reunited. It was too cruel.

The corner of the Witch's mouth turned up sadistically, and she glanced at Edward with a knowing look. He kept his gaze on Merwyn. He needed to focus for what must be done now.

"No, Merwyn. It is I who will stay behind," h." He said.

Merwyn felt a pang of emotion that she could not contain, and she let go of Ruskon's hand and walked over to Edward. "Why, why would you do this for me? It's you that loves me most?"

Edward gave her a heartbreaking look, full of a plethora of emotions and words too vast to take in. He pressed his wet nose against her forehead, making her shiver at the contact of his cold skin, but the gesture was undeniably tender. "Merwyn, look at me. Really look at me. Can't you see? I am your father."

Merwyn gazed into his eyes, and the last hold of her curse dropped away, and she knew. She knew that she had always known that Edward was her father somewhere deep inside of her, but the fact had just been hidden from her by her curse, and his. She touched his face with her small hand, and he closed his eyes. "Father."

"I'm sorry you had to find out like this, Merwyn," hn." He said as he opened his eyes, his voice was cracked, and he tried to reign in the sob that threatened to escape from his mouth. "I'm sorry we didn't have more… time." Merwyn reached toward him, and pulled him into a tight embrace, that was gauche because she was kneeling and he could only hug her back by resting his head next to hers.

But, for the first time in ten years Edward did not feel homesick. He was home.

"I was right. I have always loved you," ." She said softly.

Edward gave a small chuckle. "And I you, Merwyn. Your mother too. When you were born, she said you were the most perfect baby in the world." Edward He snorted at the memory. "She was right. You were perfect, to us."

"I wish that I could have known what you looked like, if this… this is going to be the last time I see you. Ever." Her hands were memorizing the lines of his beastly, yet elegant face, and he felt a sliver of regret that he could not use his hands to touch her.

Edward glanced over at the Witch who was watching them with a keen, if not failing interest. Her eyelids were growing heavy, and she lifted them up like weights that were becoming too hefty to bear.

"Witch, it is the end of your life., I know you care not for my family, and you have done everything in your power to destroy it. But, I ask you, no, I beg of you, grant me this one wish. iIf you are going to take me with you into the great unknown, then let my daughter see me as I truly am. Just once." Edward's voice was pleading, and yet firm, as if he could sound any other way, thought Merwyn. He didn't want to die a stranger to his only child.

The Witch's eyes fluttered open, as if she was seeing a great light, and her eyes were aglow with it. She made an awed noise. "Moira?" she said aloud. Edward glanced apologetically back at Merwyn, as if to say, 'I tried, and this was the best I could do.' But, the Witch let out a contented sigh, and then light disappeared from her eyes. "She says… Moira says, she'll leave me alone, she'll give me peace, if I give you what you want!" The Witch's hands were covered with wet sticky blood, and Merwyn wanted to vomit at the sight.

Edward turned toward Merwyn, excitement in his eyes, and she watched in horrified interest as he began to change. He screamed in agony as bones jutted out from fur, separating his wolf skin, until human flesh was revealed. He fell to his knees and his hands clutched madly at his chest, trying to grasp at the source of the pain, as it too began to rip apart and form into skin.

His face transformed last, but, Merwyn could only see the back of his head, as dark brown hair began to show through the white. And then he was shivering, on the ground, his naked body fully formed into that of a man. Merwyn turned her eyes ashamedly away, and Ruskon tactfully grabbed Merwyn's fallen cloak from the ground, and whirled it over Edward.

He lay still for a few moments, and then he sat gingerly up, treating his new limbs as if they were frail, breakable things. One curious hand shot up to explore the curves of his face, and he gave a faint cry at feel of his skin, then his hand traveled farther up to his hair that was dark against the olive colored skin. Then he swathed the cloak around him, preserving his modesty, while simultaneously mentally cursing the Witch for making his transformation excruciatingly painful, while Ruskon's seemed instantaneous. Maybe it was a last bit of revenge on her part, that and not giving him any clothes in the transformation process. But, this he chalked up to her waning mental capacity. He laughed internally, the things he was thinking! He was human again! He had to enjoy it while it lasted.

Merwyn gave a teary eyed grin to Ruskon, and he gave her one back.

"Go," he said.

She nodded. "Okay." Her heart beating out a disjointed rhythm that seemed to mark her steps one at a time.

She approached Edward cautiously, for some reason apprehensive at finally seeing the father that she had longed for her entire life. He was her last and only link to her past, and he would be gone forever in a few minutes.

She stopped in front of him, and brought a quivering hand to her throat. He looked just as she had imagined. He had dark brown hair the color of chocolate that was growing grey around his ears. His eyes were a deep emerald green, just like hers, and his skin was a few shades darker than her own. He had a lithe, athletic build, and he was quite tall, his limps long and graceful.

"Oh. It's you," she said simply, and she dropped to her knees and put her head in the crook of his shoulder. The corner of his mouth twitched into a timid smile. He briefly wrapped his arms around her, one hand touching her soft auburn hair. Then he pulled away.

"We don't have much time. The Witch is almost dead, and I still have much to tell you before I go with her. No, don't cry," he soothed, as he stood to his feet, the cloak still wrapped around him, revealing his bare shoulders and arms. He pulled Merwyn up with him. He bent quickly and kissed her forehead. "Ruskon, come over here please, this concerns you too.

"Promise me—promise me that you'll take care of my daughter."

Ruskon took Edward's hands in his and squeezed them tightly in his own. "I promise." His voice was solemn and Ruskon noted that Edward was none the less dignified, despite being wrapped in a woman's traveling cloak.

Edward appraised Ruskon's eyes for a brief moment, and then smirked ironically. His gaze flickered over to Merwyn, and he grazed her cheek with the back of his hand. "She's all that will be left of me, and Moira."

Merwyn's tears ran down her cheeks like tiny, salty rivers that she didn't bother to wipe away. "Don't go," she whispered, reaching toward him instinctively, her voice hoarse.

Edward's green eyes darkened, and he gave her a lopsided grin, his white teeth exposed. He hugged her tightly, his voice muffled by her hair. "I have to, dear one. You know I do. You're going where I cannot follow, and it breaks my heart. But, I have not been able to give you many things in my life, let me give you this. Let me give you a chance at life, dearest."

Merwyn shook her head adamantly to refuse, but Edward stopped suddenly, his back stiffening, and whirled toward the Witch. Her breathing was more shallow, and her skin was stretched like rubber across her bones, making her face look even more sallow than before.

He turned back toward Merwyn, his face urgent. "Shh. There's not much time! Know that I will always love you, and that I want you to be happy; your mother would have too. You resemble her so much that it hurts a bit to look at you." He enveloped her hands in his, "Live well, Merwyn. The world is going to seem strange to you at first, and so big! But, there is so much to experience, take advantage of it. And—and know that I'll be waiting for you. Your mother and I will both be waiting for you, when the time has come for you to pass from this world into the next, you'll see us again. Goodbye, daughter, and go in peace." He planted a kiss on her forehead, his lips quivering. He turned to go, but Merwyn pulled him back.

"Father, are you very afraid to die?"

He laughed lightly, and shook his head. "I will not lie to you, Merwyn. I am afraid to die. I'm afraid of what I do not know, and I'm not ashamed to admit it. But, I'll get to see your mother again. I've missed her so. That will make everything worth it to me, beloved. But, I've got to go now, the Witch is calling me to join her. She's held on as long as she could, and now death is coming to her. She couldn't fight it off forever."

Merwyn reluctantly released his hand from her grip, and she let her arms fall dully to her sides. Edward's face was drawn and pale, but he nodded stiffly, and turned his back toward Merwyn, and walked with weighted steps toward the Witch.

She would never see her father alive again, and yet, somehow she didn't feel mournful. She would see him again, she knew. Ruskon walked up beside her, and put his arm around her shoulder. He had discreetly wandered away in order to give Merwyn and Edward privacy in their last moments together. Not many people were fortunate enough to know the hour of their death, and to set things right. Edward did know the hour of his death, and had made his peace with his daughter. He could die now, afraid or not.

Edward sank to his knees on the ground next to the Witch, and Merwyn wanted to run toward him, but Ruskon's firm grip on her shoulders was restraint enough to keep her wobbling legs in place. Edward took the Witch's frail hand in his own, and leaned over to whisper in her ear. The Witch nodded weakly, and Merwyn wondered what Edward had said to her.

"Let's go then," Edward said firmly. The Witch clamped her eyes tighter shut, and her breathing drew to a wheezing last draw, and then her features relaxed, and Merwyn knew she was dead.

Edward glanced up at Merwyn and kept his eyes on her as it began to happen. First his legs disappeared and wafted into nothing, and then his torso. The Witch's feet and legs were already gone, and she too was fading into oblivion, into the next world, the great unknown as Edward had called it. Merwyn's sob was stuck in her throat, as Edward's neck was all that was left, his eyes still focused on her, never wavering.

And then he was gone.

Merwyn sobbed harshly, and Ruskon hugged her tightly to himself. "It's all right, it's okay. Shh," he murmured. She nodded weakly, and he ran his fingers soothingly through her hair. "It's all over."

As soon as the words were out of his mouth, and before Merwyn had time adjust, the thick of the wood disappeared from view, and they were standing in the midst of night on a dirt path, and Ruskon could hear the ocean in the distance, lapping contentedly against the rocks.

Merwyn's eyes widened in shock, and she forgot about her grief for Edward for a moment. She backed away from Ruskon, and looked about her, but there was too much around to take in.

Lush grass grew thick on each side of the path, and it seemed to stretch infinitely in both directions. "Where are we?" she asked, awed.

Ruskon shook his head in confusion as he turned to observe the scene about them. "I don't know, exactly. Wait here," he said and wandered along the path until he was out of sight.

Merwyn's legs felt like weak sticks beneath her, and so she sat heavily in a whirl of skirts on the ground. Her fingers flexed and then grasped on the grass underneath her, and she closed her eyes and listened to the sounds off in the distance. Everything was so incredibly foreign to her. Crickets were chirping tirelessly behind her, their night symphony had been disrupted by her presence, but it continued unbidden quickly.

The night air was like silk against her skin, and she stretched languorously against the grass, enjoying the texture of it on her legs. So this was freedom. This is what she had wanted all of her life. It wasn't so much her surroundings that she had ached for with every fiber of her being, although, it was an added bonus. It was more the feeling of infinite possibility that was pressing heavy against her ribs, making it hard to breathe.

She opened her eyes, and the moonlight shone down in an opaque beam upon the path and she noted curiously that it looked different in this world. Father away somehow. This is what Edward had died for. This. For her to live. The tears in her eyes fell down the sides of her cheeks without her permission, and she hastily wiped them away, not wanting to cry on what should be a happy occasion. "Thank you," she whispered tenderly to the ghost of Edward, her eyes still on the moon.

Ruskon's tall, dark figure emerged on the path a few seconds later, and he ran excitedly over to her. He grabbed her hands and pulled her up to her feet. "We're home," he said exuberantly.

She touched his cheek with her fingertips, and he put his hand over hers, pressing it closer to his face. "Where's home?"

His teeth were a startling white in the darkness. "England. The cliffs of Dover are just over there." He pointed down the path, where he had come from. "We're about half a day's journey from my home." His hand had moved to touch a few wild strands of her hair, and he smoothed them down. "And yours too." He added.

She became conscious of her appearance for the first time. She thought she must look a fright. Her hair was careening wildly in all directions, her face stained with tears. No matter, there was nothing she could about it now. "Show me these cliffs."

He led her down the path, and the dirt and rocks crunched soothingly under her feet. A few minutes later, the edge of the cliffs came into view. A primal bleached white under the light of the moon, Merwyn stepped out onto the hard rock, and walked solemnly to the edge. Her figure was stark against the blue-black sky; the moonlight washed away her features, blending them into the horizon.

Ruskon hung back, letting her discover everything on her own.

The pungent saltiness of the sea was the first thing to reach her nostrils, and then her eyes were met with incredible sapphire-colored enormity of the ocean. She took it all in silently, and then a slow smile crept across the contours of her face. The ocean breeze bit at her skin, and ruffled her hair, making it whip against her face and neck. But, she did not care.

"I'm home." She said aloud to herself, and the infinite possibilities that were pressing against her ribcage made her chest tighten, and she brought a hand up to bear down on the tightness.

Ruskon was already beside her, eyes fixed on the distance.

"We both are."

The End