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“I will never forget you.”
He turns away, always turning, never the one to be caught but the one who leaves. Until her. She hears it in the hitch of his voice, sees it in the way he holds himself like this is some military treaty instead of intimate reunion. Telling the truth for once but still holding back. What did he say so long ago - posturing is necessary? But he also said she saw more than most and she does. She just needs more time to make him see it too.
She will not let him leave again.
Limbs move to stand, to follow through the still glistening eluvian, but her marked hand flashes white instead of green with a pain that is different, dull. Lifeless. Eyes look down to watch the tips of her fingers begin to flake into the breeze.
She reaches out to touch her skin and it falls away under the attention, dissolves into nothing but sparks and dust. She cries out in shock and fear, covering her mouth and tastes the Fade on her lips as her hand disappears, as her wrist is consumed by the anchor or whatever magic he placed upon her now.
She shuts her eyes against the rest, sobbing, cradled in on the remainder of her body and wondering if all of it will be consumed. How hard would it be to fight ash on the wind? She yells his name, pleads, even though she knows he’s long gone by now, even though she’s not sure what she’s pleading for. To save her, to kill her quickly, to burn this world down that would keep them apart. To not leave her alone. She only knows she is afraid, so very afraid.
The sensations pass, the light dies away. The damage is done and she is still here.
But her arm is gone from the elbow down. There is a moment she can only stare at the empty expanse, at the new tender flesh. Then she is screaming, wails so deep held in for so long. All the horrors, aches, struggles, betrayals, love in her heart beating with broken wings. All this loss to add to her collection and she cannot breathe under it all anymore. She was bent before, but now she is something less, severed. Severed from the magic of the anchor, from a part of herself. From him.
She whispers his name, her savior and destroyer.
Her friends find her and she clutches tight to the comfort offered, cries out when she remembers she can only reach with one hand now. Somewhere there is anger and stubborn strength beneath the surface, but it is crushed by the weight of this crippling agony. Her body might recover yet it will take some time for everything else. She spares one last glance at the looming eluvian before they carry her down the hill.
She didn’t think he could possibly take more of her than he already did. But this time, he proved her wrong.