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There was a light.
Blinding.
Searing .
It burned them from the inside out until they could feel nothing else.
And then there was dark.
In the dark there was fear, there was dread.
They had failed their master, and now they would be punished.
Then there was anger. Molten hot anger against those who had bested them. Against the wizard and his tricks. Against those burning silver eyes. Against the girl who stole everything from them.
But there was nothing left for the hate to burn, and eventually it too died out.
And so they were alone in the dark, with nothing more than their regret.
…
Then there was a song.
No words, just a hum.
It was sweet.
It filled their heart with a warmth they can’t remember feeling before.
The song would come and go, but every time they heard it it was like the dark receded just a little further.
Until they opened their eyes.
They were in a hospital bed. The early morning sun peaked in through the window, bringing the slightest hint of life to the dull whites of the walls. The sound of that song filled the room, slowly easing them awake, only ever interrupted by the sound of the EKG machine they were connected to.
Their eye - single eye - drifted across the room in search of the source of that music.
It was only when they saw the long mane of red hair that they realized the voice behind the song.
“Oh! Hello again,” Pyrrha greeted with a smile, “I was starting to worry you’d sleep all winter.”
Winter?
It was already Winter?
No, that didn’t matter.
There were more pressing questions.
“Where?” Cinder croaked, their dry throat barely able to form the syllables.
“Here, drink this,” Pyrrha replied, offering them a glass of water. Cinder wanted to spit on her face, but they were so thirsty that they couldn’t refuse it. “You’re in the Lighthouse Medical Center. They’ve been treating you for the last month.”
Cinder blinked.
The crushing weight of time pressed against their chest as they realized just how vulnerable they had been. Just how easily She could have come for them.
Were they just lucky, or were they simply pathetically low in Her list of priorities?
They didn’t like either answer.
“Hey, hey, it’s okay,” Pyrrha called again, leaning closer to them. It seemed their panic had been quite obvious, “it’s fine. You’re safe, okay? No one’s gonna hurt you.”
Safe?
Ridiculous.
Nowhere was safe.
No one would ever be safe from Her .
But why did she even care?
Why would the woman who stole glory from their hands even bother showing them this kindness.
“Why?” They rasped, before being caught in a coughing fit.
“Easy there, easy,” Pyrrah soothed, much to their annoyance, “hold on a second.”
Pyrrah turned around and looked through her backpack, until she managed to recover a small notepad and a pen, which she handed over to Cinder.
Oh, how nice of her.
Please .
Cinder rolled their eyes, but took the notepad all the same.
Their right arm reached for the pen and their left…
Their left wasn’t moving.
They looked down at it, and for the first time took in the extent of the damage. Not only was their left eye gone, but the entire left side of their body was horribly scarred and mangled.
The arm was still attached to them, but it slumped uselessly no matter how hard they commanded it to move.
They couldn’t feel it.
They couldn’t feel their arm!
The beeping of the EKG machine picked up its pace as Cinder felt their heart try to thump its way out of their chest.
Their breath hitched, their lungs refusing to fill.
It felt like drowning, like being crushed from all sides as they sank.
When Pyrrha spoke again they couldn’t hear her.
They hadn’t even realized when the doctor’s came in, Pyrrha still fussing about them as they worked.
Then came the dark again, and at least in the dark they found some peace.
The days went by, they didn’t bother counting how many.
The doctors came to visit them frequently, usually simple check ins, and updates on their current state.
It seemed that though Cinder had lost their left eye, the doctors had managed to save their left arm. It was barely functional right now, but they insisted that with proper aura treatment, and physiotherapy, they’d be able to regain movement in no time.
No time could mean a few months, or several years depending on how things went, but at this point Cinder didn’t care.
They just went through the motions, and followed the treatment, not out of any hopes for recovery, but simply because they didn’t have the energy to argue against it.
It was almost fitting, really.
They were already half a maiden, so now they were also half a person.
Pyrrha came to visit too.
Every morning, without fail, she’d walk in through those doors, greet them, ask how they were, and just sit around all morning.
This whole time the notepad she gave them sat unused by their bedside, not a single word written on it, or uttered by them.
Not like that did anything to stop that woman from holding an entire conversation on her own.
It was exhaustive, but they could never really muster any real anger. Not at Pyrrha, or Ruby, or the doctors. They couldn’t even muster a fear of Salem, even though they knew she’d come for them sooner or later.
It was as if their heart too had been left scarred and numbed.
And that stupid girl seemed to notice that.
She always looked at them with worry and pity.
How they hated that look.
How they hated being pitied.
It was the only feeling that could pierce that numbness, so they latched onto it, fed it, let it fester. They didn’t hate Pyrrha because she hurt them, or because she stole the maiden powers from them.
No!
They hated Pyrrha for having the gall to do all that to them, and then still pity them.
Because the way she looked at Cinder just forced them to see just how pathetic they were.
One day when Pyrrha walked in, Cinder finally found it in them to reach for that damn notepad and write.
Pyrrha was ecstatic. So happy to finally see them willing to communicate.
There was almost a moment of joy in seeing her face fall when she saw the message they wrote.
‘“Why didn’t you leave me to die?”
There was conflict in her face for a moment as she tried to choose her words.
“It was the right thing to do,” she settled on, though Cinder remained fully unconvinced.
The right thing to do?
The right thing to do!?
Cinder slammed down the notepad on their bed, and glared at her with burning anger in their remaining eye.
"What 's wrong?” Pyrrha asked, both worried and confused.
“Liar!” Cinder rasped.
“I’m not lying,” she insisted, “I couldn’t just leave you like that.”
“Liar,” they repeated before being wracked by a terrible cough that tore at their throat.
Pyrrha came closer to try to tend to them, but they just shoved her away.
They tried to destroy Beacon.
Ended countless lives.
Tricked her into destroying Penny.
They would have taken her life without a second thought.
“The right thing to do,” they forced themself to speak, “was killing me!”
There was hurt in those green eyes, finally something to replace that pitiful look.
“I can’t!” Pyrrha answered back, her voice cracking as she looked away, “the only reason we were there, the only reason any of this happened. To you, to me, to everyone. Is because of me, because I took too long to make my choice.”
She looked up at them and a single eye burned red with a familiar flame.
The maiden powers.
Cinder’s missing half.
“I just thought that maybe… maybe I could still save someone.”
So… that is how she saw them.
Just another poor, hopeless soul in need of saving.
One last attempt to pretend she’s some sort of hero.
This wasn’t just pity, it was guilt.
Pathetic, misplaced, guilt.
“I…” Cinder spoke again with a growl and the fire died in Pyrrha’s eyes, “didn’t ask to be saved!”
“Cinder, I-”
“I didn’t ask to survive just so you could feel better about yourself!”
They coughed, that shout putting too much exertion on their throat. They tried to pull in air again, but they could only cough again, and again, building and building until they were doubled over in a coughing fit.
Pyrrha rushed to them, trying to offer help, but they managed to get out one more word.
“ Out! ”
They did not have to say it again.
Days passed in the solitude of their room.
Pyrrha no longer came to visit, and the doctors were now their only company. They insisted that Cinder was recovering well, and that they would have their voice back soon enough.
Not like Cinder cared.
What use did they really have for their voice now?
To beg Salem for mercy whenever she deigned to come for them, and finish what Ruby started?
How much easier would it be to just let Cinder rot?
Why did anyone bother trying to help them anyways?
Part of them wanted to take Salem’s satisfaction away and handle things themself… but the rest was too tired to even put in the effort.
Why bother?
Why care?
Just let the days go by, and the end would come for them soon enough.
Just wait…
Though they did not keep track of the time, it was hard not to notice the changes around them; how winter slowly gave way to spring. The weather grew warmer and flowers began to bloom around the hospital.
It was almost beautiful.
It did make them wonder how long they stayed asleep.
It was late fall when they tried to take the other half of the maiden powers.
Had they been in this hospital since then?
How long did they even spend awake?
When was the last time they saw anything beyond these sterile, white walls?
It tired them. It tired them so much it made it difficult to focus on anything, or even stay awake.
They just wanted to rest and let the dark take them again.
Just close their eye.
Breathe slowly.
Let the dark embrace them one last–
…
There was a knock on the door. Not loud, but persistent. Just enough to disturb their rest.
Cinder peered at the door with their one good eye, and was greeted by green eyes and red hair.
“Hello again!” Pyrrha’s voice was as cheerful as ever, or at least it tried to be, but Cinder still caught a hint of hesitation in her tone.
“Why are you here?” Their answer was little more than a whisper, but it had none of that old raspiness, and their coughing fits were nowhere to be seen.
“To check in on you, of course,” she answered, taking her usual seat by the bed.
Cinder sneered at her, “I don’t need your pity .”
Pyrrha sighed, dropping that cheerful act,“I know, and I’m sorry.
“You’re sorry?”
“Yes, I’m sorry,” Pyrrha repeated, taking her time, “not that I saved you, but… that I did it for the wrong reasons.”
Cinder opened their mouth to speak, but quickly closed it again, unsure of what to do with that answer.
“I still think saving your life was the right choice, but I shouldn’ have done it just to feel better. Your well being should have been enough on its own,” Pyrrha explained, though it only baffled them further, “I know you disagree with me but… you’re alive now, right? And I can’t unsave you, so the least I can do is help make your life a little better.”
What?
Why?
After everything they did, after everything they tried to do. Why?
“So can I come visit every once in a while?” Pyrrha asked, not a hint of pity or guilt in her voice, nothing but the genuine cheer and care she seemed to show everyone.
Without even thinking, they caught themselves nodding.
What were they thinking?
“Good!” She replied, “so, how have you been while I was away?”
Pyrrha didn’t come over everyday anymore, but the days when she did show up felt different somehow.
It was beyond just having the company again. It wasn’t like Cinder spoke any more often than before, but somehow it now felt like they really were conversing, like the two of them were finally communicating.
Which meant Cinder had to begrudgingly admit that Pyrrha was - unfortunately - not a bad person to be around.
When she didn’t treat Cinder like a wounded cat, and didn’t try to play the hero, Pyrrha was downright… dorky .
She was particularly not bad to be around whenever she hummed that song.
That stupid fucking song that seemed to warm Cinder up every time they heard it.
“What’s that song?” Cinder wrote on their notepad, their voice needing some rest today.
“Oh?” Pyrrha exclaimed, the question catching her by surprise. She even looked bashful about it, “it’s just a song my mom used to sing for me when I was kid. It’s a mistrali lullaby. Argus might be more atlesian nowadays, but she liked keeping our traditions alive,” she caught herself before she started blabbing again, choosing to simply add, “I just thought it would help you sleep better.”
A lullaby from Mistral.
How long had it been since they last set foot on their old homeland?
So much of their life had been marred by Atlas that it became difficult to remember sometimes those first few years in their home kingdom.
The few memories they did have from those days were far from pleasant, but it was hard not to feel strangely nostalgic about it, about the language they had almost forgotten, and a song waiting just on the edge of their mind.
Cinder closed their eye, and without really thinking their lips began to move, forming words they hadn’t heard in such a long time.
It was quiet at first, barely audible, but it began to build the lyrics spilling forth into a proper song.
An old lullaby.
When they opened their eye again they found that they were crying. Tears streaming from their one golden eye.
They almost felt embarrassed to show this kind of vulnerability, but they could see Pyrrha crying too, and suddenly being vulnerable didn’t feel so bad.
Maybe–Maybe it was okay to be vulnerable around Pyrrha.
And in that moment of vulnerability, Pyrrha smiled through the tears and told them, “you got your voice back.”
Huh.
They really did, didn’t they.
It was a pleasant spring day.
The sun shined bright, but a cold breeze kept things from getting too warm.
Flowers bloomed all over Vale, and the already beautiful kingdom was covered in dazzling colors.
Beacon itself still laid ruined, the Wyvern still rested atop its spire, and communications with the other kingdoms was still down.
But Vale itself survived.
After all the chaos and destruction Cinder sowed, the kingdom still stood proud, the people still lived their lives. Even with the academy destroyed, its headmaster dead, the Kingdom of Vale thrived .
Perhaps Cinder should feel anger as they walked down those cobblestone streets, watching as life went on as if the fall never happened.
Years of preparation and planning, and in the end they couldn’t destroy the kingdom, couldn’t steal the maiden powers, couldn’t even kill the one girl who got in their way.
“What got you down?” Pyrrha asked, having noticed Cinder’s frowning.
But on the other hand, maybe it was a good thing that they failed.
“Just thinking,” the answer was vague, but she seemed to accept it, “you still haven’t told me the reason for our little trip.”
Pyrrha just shrugged, “after staying cooped up all that time, I just thought you deserved a chance to stretch your legs a little.”
“I appreciate the thought,” Cinder answered, rolling their eye, “but you’re a terrible liar.”
She chuckled at that, seeming amused that she was caught so easily.
“I guess I am,” she answered, “hey, there’s a caffe I like nearby, how about we get ourselves a drink?”
Cinder wanted to push back for an answer, but the prospect of non-hospital food was too tempting to pass.
Soon they got their drinks, and found a table by the balcony where they could rest and enjoy the view of Vale’s coast in the distance.
Pyrrha sat down and took a sip of her tea, a lazy smile forming on her face as she stared off into the distance.
Cinder allowed her to enjoy the silence for a few moments, but it didn’t take long for their curiosity to get the better of them.
“So will you tell me what this is all about?”
“Not gonna take in the view and enjoy the breeze?” Pyrrha tried, but Cinder only glared. “Fair enough,” she answered with a sigh, “I’ll be leaving for Mistral in a couple of weeks, and I just wanted to enjoy a day out with you before I left.”
“Mistral?” They asked, confused for a moment, “are you going home?”
“Actually I probably shouldn’t tell you this but…” there was nervousness in her voice and uncertainty in her eyes, “ I guess I can trust you.”
The thought of Pyrrha trusting them was almost funny to Cinder, but they couldn’t argue that it didn’t feel nice.
“Ruby took my team to Mistral to try to stop Salem’s plan,” she finally surrendered, “I’m planning on joining them to make sure they’re fine.”
What?
Salem was still going after Mistral next?
But the Vale plan failed, they failed, there was no reason to move to the next step… but the towers were still down.
Maybe the plan had changed, but she was still making use of Cinder’s mess.
And now Cinder’s mess was putting Pyrrha’s life in danger once again.
“You can’t do this,” Cinder argued, “you don’t know what you’re up against!”
Pyrrha simply smiled at them. It was a sad smile.
“I know,” she answered, “she’s an ancient evil witch trying to bring about the end of the world, Professor Goodwitch told me, but that’s all the more reason for me to try to protect the people I love, right?”
That was ridiculous.
That was suicidal .
Pyrrha couldn’t do this, she couldn’t abandon them just to throw her life away!
Cinder wouldn’t let her.
Pyrrha wasn’t about to die because of their mistakes.
And if that meant facing her worst fears, then so be it.
They would not be left behind again.
“You’re right,” they admitted, “and that’s why I’m going with you.”
“What!?” Pyrrha exclaimed.
“You’re only half a maiden, right?” Cinder argued, as if their decision was somehow tactical, “you’re not gonna be able to make a stand without your other half.”
Pyrrha blushed and stammered at that comment, but quickly conceded, “I guess you’re right.”
Protect the ones you love. It was a naive and childish idea - even for Pyrrha - but if it meant keeping her alive, then maybe Cinder could be childish too.
“So, when are we leaving?”