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Road Kamelot was not a woman accustomed to fear.
Immortality and power were her constant companions, her shield and sword against the twin threats of death and pain. She could not remember what it felt like to hurt, and was fairly certain she had never been afraid of dying.
What else was there to be afraid of?
She'd thought the answer to that was 'nothing,' but in the last two seconds of her life she had found a reason to change her opinion completely. There was something to fear after all — the loss of that armour and weapon. She'd thought they were intrinsic to her. She was wrong.
It should have been impossible. The Earl had always taught her, on quiet schoolday afternoons while she sat with her pencil caught between her small sharp teeth, that she would always be strong and always unkillable, and that she had nothing to fear in the world. Then he would pat her head and grin a little bit wider yet, and she would be comforted and her faith would deepen.
He was not here now, and Tyki was gasping on the floor with the fingers of his right hand clawing their way into his chest where his human heart now beat mortally, painfully, on the edge of death. He looked weak, pitiful… beaten. Utterly defeated by this small kind-eyed boy of only fifteen years.
Road was afraid.
It made her chest hurt, made her fingers and legs twitch with the sudden desire to run away and find a dark small place to squeeze herself into where he wouldn't find her. It was awful to be afraid. She didn't like it. She wanted it to stop right now.
It didn't. On the contrary, the next moment was much worse because now he was looking at her with those deep, sad eyes and holding that sword, a white mockery of the Earl's, in his blood-coloured hand.
And now, he was talking. "Road," he said.
Her name, the simplest and oldest of all enchantments.
"Let me heal you," he said then, and took a step towards her.
Before she could even think about it or say something clever in return as she always did, she took a step back… the simplest and oldest of all defeats.
"What did you do to Tyki?" she whispered, and to her ears her voice sounded like a cage full of bats, restrained but beating against the bars of her throat in search of freedom. She could feel the keen edges of her carefully painted fingernails digging into her palms, drawing blood — human blood. It hurt.
Allen's eyes deepened yet further, until she felt as if she could crawl inside him and find plenty of room for herself within those dark, gentle irises.
"I saved him," he replied softly, with a smile meant just for her.
Road couldn't look away, even though there was nothing in the world she wanted to do more. "I don't need saving," she snapped, crossing her arms and pretending that her heart wasn't thundering in childish terror.
"Don't you?" he countered, making no move towards her but seeming to advance every moment just through the sheer force of his presence and intent. He wanted to save her more than anything else in that moment, and it was palpable in the air between them, as though his desire to heal was an arm in and of itself, crossing the distance that separated them to touch her.
She was going to kill him, or maybe leave, probably both. He was an affront to her Noah pride, and he'd hurt her brother. Tyki was still kneeling on all fours, weeping from wide-open eyes and shaking like a wind-tumbled leaf. She could not forgive Allen for doing that to her strong, proud brother.
At the same time, she was not at all sure that she would win if she attacked Allen now. He had that sword which could not be blocked, and all that powerful, quiet power from his intention to do good. Could she really win against that?
There was nothing to do but try. So, she grinned cockily and twirled Lero around twice, as if there was nothing wrong and her confidence was still unassailably intact. "I don't," she said as firmly as she could. "I like me. I like being me. I don't need you to change me or try to make me better. I don't want to be human. Got it? I'm a Noah. I love my family. I'm satisfied. More than that, you're inferior to me… to us! How could you possibly 'save' me? Don't make me laugh!"
Unsettlingly, Allen's expression didn't change except that he smiled a bit more widely and opened his stance a little more as though to welcome something or someone. "You're satisfied? You've never wondered what it's like to live a life where time is finite and every moment is precious? You've never wanted to know what it feels like to live on the edge of death? You've never wondered what 'normal' is like?"
"No," she lied, but knew the moment she said it that she'd spoken too quickly, with too much urgency. He would know she was lying, and it would be like a wedge in a crack of her armour. A little more pressure and she would split right down the middle.
He didn't let her down. Allen, she thought speculatively, was probably incapable of disappointing people.
"I don't believe you," he said. Then he grasped the wide white blade in his hands a little tighter, and raised it so that it towered over his shoulder and reflected its light onto his pale face.
This was the last chance to run, she knew, but somehow she couldn't seem to move. All the times she'd wondered and all the times she'd wished were anchoring her to the spot, tying her arms and legs together so that all she could do was resign herself to what was coming, and maybe smile if she was strong enough.
She was, so while the sword slid through her chest between her ribs, she only smiled faintly and allowed it to happen.
The next few moments contained only pain as half of her was scalded away by boiling white light. Everything that made her a Noah rather than merely a human was scorched into ash and blown away.
At the end, she felt small and hollow. She wanted to curl up and cry, but no one was dead so there was no reason to cry that the Earl would forgive.
She pressed her thin brittle fingers against her chest, feeling the soft thumps of a heart that would no longer last forever. Time had never meant much to her, but all of a sudden she could hear a silent clock ticking mercilessly, counting down moments to the end of her existence.
This was how humans lived. This was what it meant to be Allen, or Lenalee, or any of the others she'd looked down on so disdainfully. This painful urgency, this abbreviated fall towards the end… this was what they understood and she hadn't.
Furthermore, this was where their passion came from, where the joy and sorrow she'd seen in their eyes stemmed from. Every moment in their lives was meaningful, because they only had a limited amount of them. Every breath was precious. Every heartbeat was a treasure to be thankful for.
There were suggestions of tears welling in her eyes, but she was a Noah and so it was not acceptable for her to cry just because something hurt.
"Road," Allen said gently. "How do you feel?"
She realized that at some point she'd fallen to her knees. The floor was cold and it was uncomfortable. More than anything in the world—more than breath or power or anything at all—she wanted a hug from one of her brothers. She wanted to be held and protected from this vulnerability she felt. Tyki, however, was in no position to protect her from anything, and now that she was mortal the Earl wouldn't care about her enough to comfort her. He'd never been the type to hug anyone anyway.
Then, of a sudden, she felt arms settle around her shaking shoulders from behind and stroke her arm gently, comfortingly. A voice, soft and sweet, told her that she would be fine in a bit, that she just needed a little time to get used to the feeling.
Allen had not moved… who then?
"Thank you, Lenalee," Allen said then, answering the question indirectly. "Do me a favour and don't let go of her for a while."
Road felt Lenalee nod against the side of her head, and even though she still reflexively saw Lenalee as something lesser, something unworthy, she couldn't seem to help pressing backwards into the warm, comforting embrace that was being offered. There was safety there.
"I'm going after the Earl. I'll be back in a while, so please be safe."
Another nod, and Road could almost hear the smile on Lenalee's face.
Humans were strange creatures. She hadn't wanted to be one, and still didn't really, but their world wasn't hell, any more than hers had been. There was grace here, too.
"Tyki," she whispered, remembering. She pulled herself away from the warmth with some difficulty and dragged herself across the floor to her brother. When she reached him, she put her arms around his neck and pulled his head into her lap, letting him weep as he would into her.
A moment later, Lenalee rejoined them, this time putting one arm around Road and laying the other hand gently on Tyki's shuddering back, holding both of them safe until the truth could sink in and time could start moving again for them.
Somehow, Road understood that this was a gift. This short human lifetime somehow had more room in it for actual living. She could feel it, like the walls of a room inside her scraping outwards and making space inside her for the fire of mortality.
Maybe tomorrow she would find it within herself to say thank you to Allen.
Today, she was content to cry and be comforted by the enemy.
Noah or not, she had tears to give.
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