She doesn't know who moves first, whether it was she or Blackstar, but wordlessly the two of them are rushing through the several yards of grass toward Stein.
The closer they get, the more Maka sees- the more wet and fresh blood she sees drenching the grass- the more she can make out two limp bodies, sitting idly in the grass- the more the smell of metal assaults her nostrils-
And suddenly, she's standing over Soul's limp body. His cloak is wrapped around his shoulders, only allowing his face to be seen, where she watches as blood trickles down his left cheek. He looks content laying in the crushed grass- his eyelashes pressed against his cheeks, his lips parted just the slightest, almost as if he were sleeping-
Beside him, Medusa lays there with her eyes open and her mouth dropped- no, he hadn't killed her, but the cut that drags along from the base of her throat to her collarbone tells Maka that she may not be alive much longer when she watches the blood drop down her porcelain skin. Maka suddenly sees why Soul had been so ruthlessly bringing his sword down onto her-
The armor she wore to protect her chest and arms had been beaten inward by his blade. She stares up at her for a moment before huffing a laugh. She drops her head into the grass, closing her eyes finally. She watches for a moment as her chest rises up and down- signaling she's still very much breathing-
But she doesn't care. Not when Stein, the actual guard, is there to take care of her.
She's dropping into the blood-soaked grass beside Soul, wrapping her arms around him and pulling him up into a sitting position- Blackstar bends at his knees beside her, supporting his head as he sits up.
When they've finally got him into a sitting position, Soul lets out a rough huff of air, his eyes fluttering. Now that they've got him into a sitting position, Maka can see the damage that had been done.
He's alive, at least.
His hair had been pulled from its combed state, causing knots of all kinds to form- his armor was still in contact, dirtied with mud and grass stains, but unharmed all the same- his cloak hands against his armored shoulders with pride, dirtied, but not torn- and there, right over his heart, sits the brooch Maka had gotten him just a few weeks ago.
The moment his eyes flicker to Soul's neck, her breathing falters.
The bandages Blackstar had applied hours before against his chest had bled through by now- and there, against his throat, laid an assortment of new marks. What looked to be the sole of a shoe had been pressed against his jugular- either side of his throat littered with razor-thin marks.
Throwing knife marks.
The cuts bleed down his neck and down under his armor- the sight itself is enough to make Maka cringe. Her breath hitched as she took her once clean hand and pressed it gently against his neck, making sure the marks weren't deep enough to do damage (which, they were not).
When her eyes flicker up to Soul's face, her heart has dropped. There, pressed into the side of his left cheek, was a new and deep gash that started from his eyebrow down to the side of his nose, grazing over his eye.
She sees why Stein had suddenly shouts for Blackstar- because now, Maka is shaking- watching as blood pours down her love's face-
She's shaking as she drops her head onto Soul's armored shoulder- shaking and tearing up as she wraps her arms around his armored body- sobbing as her hands grip onto the cloth of his cloak.
Against her chest, she can feel Soul breathing shallowly.
A shallow breath leaves her.
"He's breathing," is all Maka says as she dips her fingers into his mangled hair. Without much thought, Maka sits back, adjusting her arms around Soul to get a better view of him- and yet, she's not expecting Soul to shift and yelp in pain. Stunned, maka just stares back as Soul's shaky hands move to rest against his armored ribs.
With the litter strength he has, Soul pulls back the slightest- opening his right eye with care.
Maka watches as his lips move-
And yet, no sound comes.
"Soul?"
His words fall onto deaf ears as she watches Soul's right eye flutter shut in defeat.
Suddenly Blackstar is there, handing off his shoulder as his hand grabs delicately onto the side of Soul's head to keep him from falling forward. There's panic in Blackstars voice.
"Soul?" He'd called out, shaking his head the slightest. With the curl of a lip, Soul's right eye had opened once more, his lips parting- but nothing came. "That's not funny," Blackstar scolded, "Please, answer me-"
Soul shakes his head, and again, his eye flutters shut as he slumps tiredly against Maka.
To The Kingdom of Eibon,
It is of my humblest apologies to have wasted such of your time. We would like to thank you greatly for your hospitality, as even though we were unwelcome guests in your kingdom, you treated us as your own. Thanks to the efforts you and your kingdom had made to have us safely return, a new time has rung for us and our kingdom. In a month's time from now, we will no longer be in the same place we were before. With the new year approaching, we hope to flourish as a new kingdom. I hope that Cinder may be seen in a new light with the leadership that is soon to come. Once our situation has died down, I would love to meet with you once more, Your Majesties, about the allyship we spoke of before we had to leave so abruptly. As per-request by her highness, we hope to visit soon, Maka. Until then, may this letter give you peace.
With love, Prince Wesely of Cinder.
In the month of November, Maka turns twenty-two. Maka learns what it takes to kindle a friendship-m and then learns what it's like to watch it get snuffed out. Maka learns, in one of the worst ways possible, what it's like to love and lose.
She watches as the medic room goes from occupying four patients to zero. She attends two funerals- funerals for those who had gotten lost in their way of life. She didn't know either, but she decided that didn't matter when mourning a loss. She watches as the other two patients leave the kingdom- uncertain if they'd ever return.
The bitter-sweet part is she never got a goodbye.
Maka holds a grudge against the universe- an ugly grudge that only grows with each passing day.
In the month of November, Maka watches as her castle becomes foreign to her. She watches as a cook and a guard fall in love, greets Blackstar into her room as if it were a second home to the guard, and finds herself sitting in front of her copy of 'Pride and Prejudice' one too many times.
In the time between November and January, Maka finds that she can't cope. She can't be awake anymore without being haunted. She can't sleep anymore without being shaken away by nightmares of 'what if's' and 'what should have.'
Today is one of those days where she wakes up, her hands extended outward, a shout on the tip of her tongue. A name- a name she wants to speak so desperately for- a name attached to a person she'd do anything to see now.
A startled gasp leaves her as her hands slam against her chest. She's breathing heavily as if she'd run a marathon- and tears are streaming down her cheeks like they were racing.
It's not real, she tells herself as she imagines her love's throat slit open. He's out there, he's fine, he's alive.
She shakes, thinking back to the day in the field not so long ago.
Blood. So much blood- she'd witnessed death- watched blood seep from his eye and neck- watched him kill-
"Maka," a stern voice says suddenly, "Hey, hey, you have to breathe."
The sword's edge being turned toward her- Stein, a hair away from saving himself from being on the receiving end of Eruka's blade.
"You're okay," the voice continues, "you're okay, and he's okay. You're both okay and alive."
She's still crying when she feels her guard sit on the edge of her bed- she cant help the way she flinches- the way she crawls up toward the headboard of her bed.
Medusa, sauntering into the ballroom with Crona hanging from her hands- Medusa's blade digging into Soul's throat in front of her- Medusa, in a last attempt to save her ass, crushing her steel-toed boot into Soul's neck and crushing his throat-
"Maka, c'mon man," Blackstar cooed awkwardly, wringing his hands in his lap. "It's just me, see-" the guard raises empty hands, showing her both sides. "Harmless."
Harmless, She tells herself. Safe now.
