Fate Project

Phase 6 | Exit

RHINE

"Don't," she murmurs against my lips, pulling away after seconds, or minutes I don't know if time is even flowing. I thought it stopped.

"You—"

"I said don't," she breathes.

"Permission to release Limit I," she states, her eyes flashing from crystalline glass to pure pristine white. Somehow, I know what's about to come as I feel the strings accumulate above her but nothing could've prepared me for this.

Water. When I see the almost blue fluid manifest and circles the girl, I swear I heard my jaw unhinge. Unlike the sword and the gun, there is no hint of threat, danger or lethality in this glistening water. Instead, it offers a gentle soothing, comforting effect. It didn't splash, or spatter, it remains like a draping cloth circling and encompassing the girl.

"Heal," states the girl and the water, in a sudden halt, begins to seep in her skin, no, in her wounds. The girl grits her teeth as the water acts as a medicine to heal her albeit hurting her. Her grip tightens, her breathing alters and I can only remain silent while the water works its effect.

Somehow, a sudden faint glow emanates and the water disappears. The girl draws a huge breath and finally looks to me.

I know, instantly, her wounds were all healed. Her eyes tell me so when it changes back to being clear crystal glass again.

Then she reaches out to me again and my face burns because I thought she's going for another kiss.

"Wait—" I manage to say. How am I speaking, I don't know. I can't form my words, I can't collect my wits at all.

My thoughts are like wildfire.

Lit, burning.

Ignited like the fire in my chest.

The girl sighs, and finally, she draws back into the sofa and says, "Rest. Don't speak. Don't move. You'll pass out if you don't stop freaking out."

"What?" I manage to blurt out. "What did you—and why—what does—"

"Wait—pass out?" I ask, "what did you do to me?"

But the girl ignores me, crosses her arms in her chest and even has the nerve to sigh. So I stand up and yank her up by her clothes. Incensed with sudden indignation, I glare at her.

"What did you do to me?" I ask, daring to inch closer.

Taken aback, she lost her balance and we topple on the sofa. It takes all her got to hide her stricken appearance, to shift back to her bored and calm self. I guess she really was expecting me to faint. But I'm not losing consciousness until I got my answer.

"What exactly?" she says as she shoves me off her. "And how about you? What can you say for yourself? Helping a stranger, especially a stranger you locked up in a storage and a stranger who tried kill you. Not only once but twice."

And now, it's my turn to look stricken.

"Or is it about the cor I absorbed from you?" she adds.

It was actually about the kiss, why and what she did, but I am not going to make a fool out of myself by telling her that so I ask, "What cor? Do you mean you just consumed my cor?"

"Yes," she deadpans, "I think even an irregular like you know for a fact that our cor is the source of energy for our life. But us, regulars, we can harness this energy to use our blessings, to power our coro—"

"Save it," I shoot, angered, mocking her with the say tone she used, "If you knew all of that, then you're also aware that we, irregulars cannot use our cors because we are cursed, unable to tap to our cors for the energy to do what you regulars can do."

"And I think you know for a fact that our cors are not as great as yours, because it's cursed," I tell her, reigning my contempt. "We're not blessed, all right. We can die if we're not too careful—"

"But you didn't," she interrupts, impeding my words, "so tell me, what is happening?"

She looks up and holds my gaze.

"Each person varies in the amount of cor they have."

She stands, transparent eyes still affixed on mine.

"The only ones capable of sharing their cors are those gifted with large quantity of cors."

She pauses, as if to give me time to absorb what her words meant.

"And you are an irregular, yet you possess a strangely amount of cor."

She inches closer until too little space are the only thing that separates us.

"I cannot gauge the amount of yours, so do tell me, how is that possible?"

I stare at her, uncomprehending, her questions leaving me utterly shaken. My mouth tightens as I feel disconcerted. My mind racing, trying to connect words I do not understand and meanings I do not want to even know. Trying to find some answers that can explain her questions and relieve my confusion all at once.

But my reply is still lost when we hear the faint bark of Nox coming outside. And with just a few seconds, Lind barges in the door, her little figure lithe and fast, her cane strutting with her as she enters. For a fifty-seven year old grandma, Lindsey Deustch—the one and only person close to be called a doctor here in the Moor—is the strangest of all because you might as well thought that she's a seven-year-old child because of her appearance. That is her curse, she cannot grow, all her life stuck in a body of a child.

"Where is the patient?" she asks hastily, tying up her blonde hair in a bun. She, then storms inside, removes her coat and boots and looks to me.

"Who's hurt, Rin? And is that blood I see on your clothes?" she asks me, her gray eyes as sharp as ever. Though, I cannot say she's that sharp because she had pronounced my name wrong again. But I don't bother to correct her this time even though I've been telling her for years to cut it off. She'll just say in her usual indignant voice, "What's the difference anyway? And it's a good nickname don't you think? Cut this old granny some slack. I will call you whatever I want!'

"Don't worry it's not mine," I tell her.

"What do you mean by that?" asks Lind, "and where's Castle?"

"Cas is upstairs, looking for anesthesia and painkillers in your room," I answer. "And it's already fine, Lind. You don't have to—"

But she's already ignoring me and ready to shout with all she's got, "Castle Astreal Ross! Get your ass down here!"

I unconsciously plug my finger in my ears because of Lind's shout. Really, she never changes. The girl seems surprised although she's doing a good job hiding it.

"Lind, you're here," says Cas as he emerges from the stairs carrying a case filled with medicine bottles and vials, and packages of needles and syringes.

"You brat!" she scolds, hitting Cas with her cane, "where is the patient! Rin said there's no one hurt so why did you send Nox to me! That dog won't leave me be and drag me here. Don't you know how long the queue in the Market's store?!"

She hits Cas again with her cane with a greater force that I can't help but wince. But Cas stands there with an annoyed look, unaffected by the pain that it will appear that Lind's continuous hitting seems the least of his concern. As for Cas, pain, pleasure and any senses that we feel by touch is nonexistent. He lost all his sense of touch ever since he's been classified as an irregular. Just like how everyone lose something for being an irregular.

Like how you will forever curse yourself for being the aberration they say you are.

It's hard to explain all the details of what happened to Lind but after hours of trying she's convinced that we're just messing with her once again. She just won't believe the fact that the girl (now resting upstairs at Lind's room) is a regular from the Capitol. Cas believes me but that's because he had seen how the girl literally resuscitate from the dead. Well, he didn't really witness the real thing but he practically declared that the girl's life is in danger and will die if not treated quickly. So of course, seeing the girl alive without a scratch left just after a few moments of absence, he is convinced that only a regular can possibly make a miracle like that occur.

"What a load of bullshit," says Lind, puffing her pipe.

I groan and resist the urge to roll my eyes.

"Lind, if confirmation is what you need we can just ask the girl, right?" adds Cas.

"Yeah, ask the regular then," I say. "Maybe she can make you see some sense. How come you wouldn't believe us anyway?"

"Enough! This is getting ridiculous. A regular? In here! Then do I look like someone who takes crap from you?" snaps Lind. "You don't know what you are saying, boy. We can't have a regular here. It's too dangerous now that—"

"Swish!"

George comes zooming right at my face, flying with unbelievable speed.

"What the—!" I gasp so loud that Lind couldn't finish what she's saying.

George halts just in time to not hit my face and I have no time to even react or question what's so sudden that he almost catapult at my face, because he's already shouting his head off, pointing above and wrenching my hair just to take me upstairs. Because the girl, as George shouted, is trying to leave. She had already cut open a small exit in the walls of Lind's bedroom.

Without stopping to think, I dash upstairs, leaving Cas and Lind baffled since they cannot see or hear George, which is given, of course. But I think this is fine because somehow I know neither Cas nor Lind can act in this situation. Not when Lind doesn't believe that the girl is a regular and just as capable of cutting wood as a chainsaw. And Cas is a slowpoke anyway.

I reach the bedroom just in time to shout, "Stop!" and I see great surprise in her face but then it's gone. She knows how to hide, control and restrain her feelings and emotions, that girl. But then, I'm not that all impressed. The bedroom is still Lind's bedroom except from the clean rectangular cut on its left wall just beside Lind's favorite broken grandfather clock. Lind will lose it when she sees this. I'm betting that the girl used her sword to do that. I'd even throw some of money if I have.

I catch a glimpse of Bambi in the glass of the broken grandfather clock. From the looks of it, she was the one who alarmed George and asked him to brought me here. Bambi is staring daggers at the girl, clearly aggravated. For the first time, I mouth to her a thank you.

"Where do you think you're going?" I say, minding my voice, my eyes dragging to the sword in her hands. See, I'm right, she used her damn sword. Lind will kill her or better yet, us if she sees her room with a second window.

"Where I'm going is not your business, Rin," she tells me, eyes gleaming blue. And I don't know how to react. Not only I am surprised to hear her say my name, I am torn between wanting to lash out because it sure is my damn business if she gets me to more trouble, and bursting to laugh because she has pronounced my name wrong.

"Says who?" I say, "And it's Rhine. And some advice, don't trust Lind when it comes to names. She'll call you whatever she wanted."

"Alright, Rhine," she says, emphasizing my name intentionally. "Point taken. And some advice, don't trust me that I have a responsibility to answer your questions. Or any willingness to listen to you."

She turns her back to me and for a second I know that this is it. She would jump even if this is the third floor and she would be gone. Like she isn't here in the first place.

"Stop me and you die," she warns, pointing out her sword, but I don't know why it strike me harder than it should have. Just like how every word of hers is like a weapon to injure and to cut, it stings because the coldness of her voice is becoming more inhumane the harder and the longer I try to reach out to her.

It is all clear. She doesn't want us to get to involve. She doesn't care, that's all there is.

And here I thought I am the most selfish uncaring person in the Bridge. Looks like I have found my match.

"Forget about me, Rhine," she says without even facing me.

Then I watch her jump just to get shot by a gun.

And she's falling, before I can even reach out to her.