Chapter Twelve
Searching…
Everything is so grey. I blink, brushing back some of my tangled, light hair. I wonder why it's tangled. It's not like I really ever cared about it—or did I? I'm not sure. I look down at myself, to see if that would help. I'm barefoot, and in a pure white dress. For some reason I smile, amused at the irony. Irony of what? Like I know.
Need to find it…
Something tugs me forward a little, a long-lost instinct, perhaps. I feel like I have to keep moving, somehow. How strange.
Can't stop searching…
I start walking in that direction, keeping my eyes wide open for whatever I need to find. I feel a little empty, somehow. Like I'm missing something, or someone. Maybe I'm lost. Or is this home? I would hope that my home's a bit more…colourful.
"Why the hell aren't we doing anything?!" Dillon yells, furious.
"Calm down, Dillon; we have to think rationally."
"To hell with rationality! Every minute we waste here, Merle is dying!"
"Don't be so melodramatic," Arkarian scolds. "She hardly has any kind of affiliation with the light, so we needn't rush."
Lady Brystianne bites her lip worriedly, torn. While she desperately wants to believe in Merle, her last moments were hardly going to work in her favor. At the same time…something about it seemed off. Neriah and Ethan, the witnesses, weren't condemning her, now were they? Granted, they had yet to speak, but their thoughts were unguarded. Immediately after securing Jeanne's safety, Ethan and Neriah had rushed back to the Citadel, where a horrified but calm Arkarian was already gathering the Named and the Tribunal.
"Look at this logically," Arkarian explains. "We have no reason to trust her!"
Ethan was appalled. "Are you actually suggesting we let her die?"
"You saw what she did!" Matt shot back. "How could you defend her?"
"She was just as surprised as Ethan and me," Neriah interjected softly.
"You heard the boy," Lord Penbarin spat. "They planned it."
"I heard her thoughts!" Neriah insisted. "She was shocked! She wanted to stop him!"
"To save herself, no doubt."
"Are you going to take an Order member's word over a Guardsman's?" Ethan demands.
Alone…
It's funny. I've been walking for ages, but I don't feel tired at all. Or maybe I haven't been walking for long at all. It's hard to tell. But…I think I see something on the horizon now. A river? Something's there…
"To hell with this!" Dillon says suddenly. "I'm not waiting on all of you! Ethan, you said we can do something?"
Ethan glances at Arkarian briefly. "We can get her soul back."
"No." But he looked pained.
"Arkarian."
"Ethan, you know I can't without the Tribunal's permission, or else I would."
"That's right!" Lord Penbarin approved.
"I'm going anyway."
"If he goes, I go," Ethan adds.
"You don't have approval." Matt reasserts.
Keep looking…
For some reason, I don't feel alone anymore. I wonder why not? The air actually seems warmer somehow. I look around, but I don't see anything.
"Primrose!"
Someone's calling…? Calling me…?
"Primrose! Merle!"
I turn around—and that's when I see him. It's him, who's looking for me and calling me. I see a flash of dark hair; I know exactly who he is. My soul's true other! He looks relieved, now that he has my attention.
"Come on, let's go back."
Back? Where? Ah well, I'll go wherever he asks me to. He turns to the space next to him, saying something about a Tribunal. Huh. But after a second, he grabs my hand and calls:
"Shaun!"
Back! Who is her soul-mate? Mwahaha...read on, and you'll see.
Only Merle belongs to me!