They walked.
No destination. No grand purpose.
Just two souls, side by side, beneath quiet skies.
Each step was cautious, like taming a feral creature. Trust rebuilt not with declarations, but shared silences. Muted smiles. The warmth of campfires that didn't end in blood.
And Rion… learned something terrifying.
He didn't hate her.
Not anymore.
And maybe—somewhere in that fractured heart—he never truly had.
---
They reached a hilltop village where the rivers split, and stayed. Temporarily, at first.
But days turned to weeks.
Lira worked at the apothecary, using her magic to mend fevers and ease births.
She never once used binding spells.
Never touched Rion's things.
Never entered his room without knocking.
She spoke gently. Listened deeply. Laughed rarely—but when she did, it was soft and human, not manic or desperate.
She was no longer the girl who killed herself into his life.
She was simply… Lira.
And that was almost worse.
Because now the choice was his.
---
One morning, while he chopped wood, she brought him tea.
Not laced.
Not enchanted.
Just hot, slightly bitter, and made with care.
She didn't linger.
Only said, "Thank you. For letting me stay."
And left.
Rion sat on the stump long after the tea went cold.
A war raged inside him.
Freedom had always been about escape. About running.
But now… was it about choosing?
Not out of fear.
But desire.
Not surrendering to her—
But letting himself want her.
If he did.
If he dared.
---
One night, as the first frost crept in, he found her standing by the lake.
Same spot she always wandered to. Alone. Quiet. Waiting, maybe, for a part of her that never reincarnated right.
He stood beside her, silent for a time.
Then: "You never told me what you remembered. From the old life."
She didn't look at him.
"I remembered everything."
"All the pain?"
"All the pleasure."
She paused.
"And the day you died. I remember that most of all."
His throat tightened. "I didn't want you to remember that."
"I needed to."
She looked at him then.
"I needed to carry your pain. So I would never cause it again."
Her voice broke.
"I vowed, Rion—not to tame you. Not anymore. Just to love you the way you deserved. Even if it meant from a distance."
He reached for her hand.
She flinched—
But he didn't pull away.
"I'm not running anymore," he whispered.
She blinked.
"I don't know if I love you," he said honestly. "But I don't hate you. And I think… I want to see where this goes. Without cages. Without chains."
A tear slipped down her cheek.
"Even if it ends?"
He nodded.
"Even if it ends."
---
They didn't become lovers overnight.
No rush. No lust.
Just morning bread. Midday walks. Quiet dinners.
He began to laugh more.
She began to smile without sorrow behind it.
One night, she gave him a book of pressed flowers.
"No enchantments," she swore.
He believed her.
He kissed her that night.
A real kiss.
No desperation.
Just two broken people choosing warmth over memory.
And the sky didn't fall.
The world didn't end.
Sometimes, the cage wasn't made of bars.
It was made of fear.
And sometimes… the key was forgiveness.
---
Years passed.
They married beneath the lake tree.
No witnesses.
Just the wind, and the ghosts they buried with soft words.
Rion never let her chain him.
Lira never asked.
When nightmares came, they held each other in silence.
When doubts whispered, they answered not with promises—but presence.
He grew old.
So did she.
Together.
No tragedy. No blood.
Just a quiet life.
A free life.
The one she let him choose.
---
The End.