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Cerik was mad.
His friend was just a lovestruck fool.
He told her she was just wasting her time by trying to return to that tower. He told her that she was wasting their time. And their money, too.
But, of course, she didn’t listen.
Because she’s a fool.
An idiotic lovestruck fool.
But she seemed content playing that role.
Cerik’s tolerance was like a glass of water.
Every time Malori kept pulling him into their next wacky adventure, more water kept getting poured into the cup. Eventually, the frustration became so great that the water overflowed. The cup tipped sideways and all the water came rushing out.
He blew up on her.
They parted ways.
Cerik knew it would be temporary. They had their fights before. Then they would be friends again. It was a cycle, but even they needed space apart from each other sometimes.
It was only a matter of time.
Cerik saw Malori around the academy a lot, even if they were trying their darn best to avoid and ignore each other.
It was natural.
Then, Cerik stopped seeing Malori around the academy.
He checked the Folstina Church (within 3 days of her last appearance, of course) to see if she had perhaps gone to the dungeon alone and didn’t have enough money to pay for her resurrection again. No coffin.
Cerik started to genuinely panic.
“Hi, Cerik,” Malori tried to greet Cerik cheerfully. It’s completely ruined by her clammy, pale face and the dark rings that surrounded her eyes. Her voice was weak, and there’s a certain indescribable feeling of pain that haunted her eyes.
“Malori! Where have you been?! I’ve been worried sick about you!” Cerik exclaimed, gripping Malori’s arm. Cerik immediately pulled back, sensing something was wrong with Malori from first touch. “…Malori?”
“Ah, I’m fine.” Malori brushed off, mustering up the best smile she could afford. “I’ve just been feeling a little under the weather recently,”
“You’re sick?! Why are you up then, you should be resting in bed!” Cerik scolded Malori. Malori weakly chuckled.
“Why?” Malori asked, her eyes filled with deep resignation. “I don’t want to waste the rest of my days in bed…”
Cerik’s world completely shattered.
“Huh?”
Malori let out another weak chuckle, but it escalated into a coughing fit, forcing Malori to kneel down in order to stop the world around her from revolving. She felt dizzy, and to Cerik’s horror she was coughing up blood.
“Malori!” Cerik shouted in fear and panic, kneeling down with Malori to support her as she swayed unevenly from side to side.
“Sorry,” Malori croaked out, her head resting on Cerik’s shoulder for support. “I’m… really not in the condition to be walking around…”
“But I don’t want to spend the rest of my life waiting to die…” Malori felt hot tears form at the tips of her eyes.
“You’re not going to die, Malori! You can just get resurrected, can’t you?” Cerik tried to keep his voice from sounding as hysterical as he felt in the moment. Malori’s eyes were filled with a deep acceptance, however.
“I already went to the best healers in town, Cerik. They were able to find out what the disease was doing to me—but they don’t have a cure. It’s decomposing away at everything slowly, Cerik. Not enough to kill me, but by the time I do die, there’s not enough to salvage in order to resurrect me,” Malori wiped away at a dribble of blood that was smeared at the corner of her lip.
“Potions? Healing spells? It all failed?!”
“I wouldn’t be like this if it didn’t,” Malori joked in a meek voice, trying to make light of the situation. Cerik felt devastation crashing down on him.
He…
He left her.
Alone.
While she was dealing with this.
He felt horrible.
Sick.
“Okay… this is a crazy idea but what if we killed you and then resurrected you? Do you think your body would reset back to full health?” Cerik suggested.
“If I’m being completely honest, Cerik, I’m not even sure if my body would be in the state to come back at all.”
“You… you can’t die, Malori.” Cerik’s voice was full of desperation.
“Sorry,” Malori apologized again, a small smile on her lips.
It didn’t reach her eyes.
She grew weaker and weaker by the day.
She still forced herself to walk about, however. She was determined not to stay in bed.
In the eyes of anyone else, she would be deemed an idiot.
But to Cerik, he knew.
Malori was always a flame.
A flame that no matter how harsh the wind blew or how many times it rained, it wouldn’t die out. But the flame started to die out naturally. No matter what Malori did, no matter how much kindle was placed, the flame kept getting smaller and smaller every day.
Malori stopped trying to preserve the flame. There wasn’t any use.
Malori didn’t want to die lying down. From the look in her eyes, she had accepted her fate of death already. She was trying to preserve anything else she could—her memories, her legacy, anything.
Her love.
She tearfully asked Cerik if he would accompany her to the demon tower one last time.
He agreed, albeit reluctantly but the flame isn’t out yet. He can still see the linger flame trying to hold on to Malori’s body, the dying fire in her eyes. The sparks that are still lit, the passion that was radiating from those tired eyes.
She collapsed on the first general’s floor.
She started coughing more and more blood, much to Berkz’s horror. He started to freak out, kept asking Malori what was wrong.
Cerik just pulled her gently along to lean against the bricked wall, trying to comfort her as she heaved big breaths trying to gulp down as much air as her lungs would allow her.
“I’m dying, Mr. demon general,” Malori whispered in a low voice. Her throat wouldn’t allow her anything more than that.
Berkz looked just as devastated as Cerik did when he found out.
“Oh,” Berkz sadly replied, looking deeply saddened. “Sometimes I forget how fragile humans can be,”
“Sorry,” Malori apologized again, despite having no control over it. She offered Berkz the same sad smile she offered to Cerik in condolence, and all Cerik could keep thinking is this was all wrong, this is all wrong—
“I don’t think I’m going to be able to make it,” Malori declares tearfully, staring idly at the ceiling of the current demon tower floor. Her gaze is unfocused but the tears didn’t stop dripping down her face one by one.
“You can’t give up! You came to see the demon queen one last time, didn’t you?” Berkz tried to encourage Malori.
“For love,” Malori said, forcing herself to get up despite the waves of dizziness that kept washing over her.
“Oi! Shouldn’t you rest a little bit more!” Cerik blurted out, trying to pull Malori back down but Malori didn’t succumb.
“No. I can’t waste any more time, Cerik. I’m out of time,” Malori sounded frightened but there was still that old spark of determination that lingered around—and it scared Cerik so much because she sounded so sure that she was going to die in this demon tower—
No.
Malori wouldn’t die, would she?
She could just be resurrected back at Folstina Church.
Yes, yes.
She wouldn’t die.
She’s too young to die. She’s too stubborn to die. She’s too Malori to die.
Malori can’t die.
“Okay,” Cerik simply said, following the stumbling Malori as she slowly took step by step up the demon tower stairs.
“Goodbye, Malori.”
The tone of finality in Berkz’s voice brought violent shivers down Cerik’s back. It was enough to send him back into another fit of panic because—
Oh my god.
Oh my god.
This is real.
Malori’s going to die.
She’s going to die, she’s accepted the fact that she’s going to die, this is their last adventure in the demon tower, their last venture into this stupid, stupid troubling tower.
How can Berkz just accept it so willingly?
How can he just accept the fact that Malori, strong independent fierce mage Malori, is going to die?
She can’t.
She can’t.
“Come on, Cerik, we have to keep going,” Malori told him, snapping him out of his trance. She has her hand held out to Cerik, her eyes full of nothing but understanding but also something that couldn’t be described that Cerik never ever wanted to see in Malori’s eyes…
Malori holding out her hand out to Cerik, smile vibrant as ever.
“Come on, Cerik, you said we would become the greatest adventurers, together!”
Malori held her hand out to Cerik.
“Let’s go, Cerik.”
Cerik took Malori. Despite him being the completely healthy one, he was trembling. He felt sick.
“M—Malori... you… you can’t die…” Cerik cried out, squeezing Malori’s fragile hand.
Malori didn’t reply. She only kept staring ahead in the demon tower staircase’s direction. A small, accepting smile on her face.
Cerik hated it.
Most of the generals took one look at Malori and looked away.
Cerik wished they all wouldn’t look so heartbroken.
Fenn readied herself in a battle position.
“W—wait! I thought all you guys just let us pass!” Cerik pushed his hand in front of him motioning Fenn to stop moving forward. Fenn tilted her head curiously.
“I only let you guys go past me last time because Miss Melathia told me to,” Fenn replied.
“Malori’s not… she… she can’t fight right now,” Cerik defensivly held onto Malori, who was trying to keep herself upright. Fenn narrowed her eyes at the both of them.
She sighed.
“Whatever,” Fenn muttered, walking away from the pair.
Cerik lead Malori into the next hallway.
Fenn let herself take one last look at the pair’s back, a bitter taste in her mouth.
“I hate humans…” Fenn clenched her fist.
“Goodbye, Malori.”
Malori and Cerik took one step forward in Melathia’s dungeon.
Malori giggled, giggled. Cerik caught her as she fell forward.
“I told you,” Malori whispered to Cerik.
“I loved her, Cerik. And I still do.”
Shut up.
Shut up.
Shut up.
“Goodbye, Cerik.”
Melathia slithered towards them, horrified at Malori’s state. She tried to feed Malori some of the high-grade elixirs she kept hidden in a drawer.
It didn’t work.
Malori didn’t die, per se, but it was clear she was on the brink of death.
There wasn’t any point in moving forward.
She was out of it the entire journey in the demon tower.
But now she was truly out of it.
Her gaze was unfocused. She stopped talking. Her body was limp. She was still breathing, although just barely. She didn’t react to anything. A snap of fingers, Cerik shaking her body in pure, pure desperation.
No reaction.
Malori’s mind already succumbed to the illness.
Fuck.
Fuck!
No.
No.
No…
“Wake up, Malori…” Cerik’s voice cracked.
“Oh dear…” Melathia couldn’t stop the horror that seeped into her voice.
“She’s dead, she’s dead, she’s dead…” Cerik could only repeat in a mantra, a terrible mantra. There was a pulse, but that didn’t matter. Because Malori… everything that made Malori Malori was gone. All that was left was an empty shell of a human body which would decompose along with Malori’s body.
Cerik cried.
“Malori, please, we were so close…” Cerik sobbed. “You can’t give up, not now… not now…”
Her breathing slowed to a stop.
The pulse was gone.
“Goodbye, Malori.” Cerik whispered.
He didn’t go.
He didn’t want to face the demon queen with his dead friend on his shoulder.
Melathia reassured him that it was okay. That he didn’t have an obligation. That her wish will be fulfilled one way or another. The Demon Queen will notice. She’ll come to visit Malori on her own accord one day.
Nobody told her.
Melathia was the only general with enough guts to even possibly mention it to Demon Queen Vel.
But even she was wary.
For a number of reasons.
She mulled it over for countless nights.
Before deciding it was best for Vel to find out herself.
Days passed.
Normal.
Weeks passed.
A bit unusual, but oh well.
Months passed.
…Huh?
Queen Vel was bored.
Where was that pesky mage?
What was her name again…?
No, wait.
She should be glad that the mage hasn’t visited in a while.
She’s probably just gaining strength to face her off again.
Like all pesky humans do.
It’s been a year.
No sign of that little runt.
None of the generals have mentioned her, either.
Queen Vel should ask if they’ve seen her lately… but her pride kept her from doing so.
Sometimes, Cerik liked to rummage through some of Malori’s old things.
It was unhealthy but it helped him feel like she’s still alive with them in spirit.
A letter slipped out.
The letter was passed from Cerik to Berkz.
The letter was passed from Berkz to Melathia.
The letter was passed from Melathia to Velverosa.
“Did she give this to you?” Velverosa interrogated Melathia.
Melathia averted her eyes from her queen’s questioning glare.
“No, it was her swordsman friend who did.”
If she wouldn’t come to Velverosa, Velverosa would come to her.
Velverosa dawned a cloak that hid most of her face and demonly features. She hissed at anyone who dared to come near her.
She recognized that runt’s friend. She dug her claws into his shoulder, demanding to know where she is. Cerik gave an emotionless stare back and told her to follow him.
They approached the cemetery.
Thank you for freeing me, Queen Vel.
I love you.
Goodbye.
-Malori