The terrain surrounding Aurelleth proved difficult to navigate even if Luciel somehow managed to break free of its borders, and not to mention the biting cold working against their threadbare selves, the chance of surviving seemed harrowingly slim.
The town itself was no better. Every turn led to another narrow alley or a collapsed street he barely remembered. Aurelleth had always been a giant maze, but now it was a distorted labyrinth of ruin.
Luciel pulled Mira closer to his chest, his eyes scanning ahead for any familiar spot. He had no plan beyond forward. There was no sanctuary waiting at the edge of town, no hidden passage that could spirit them away. But that didn't mean he could stop running. If he stopped, it would mean admitting he was powerless again.
But more importantly, when the play eventually came to its end, Mira would truly be gone from this world, no longer wrapping her arms around his neck, sniffling silently in his embrace. It all felt too surreal, too realistic to the point that if he had to choose between staying inside this illusion or breaking free from it...
'Snap out of it, you fool.'
The tether was truly despicable and treacherous. Its main goal to ensnare his soul into oblivion by capitalizing his longing was obvious. He needed to stay sharp at all times.
'Think, think. Where do I go?'
Luciel gritted his teeth, forcing his mind to cut through countless, gut-wrenching noises. In a place like this, where could he find an anchor to situate himself?
'Right. The town's community hall.'
It had been Aurelleth's heart, the one place everyone gathered, and the place the tether manifested itself and birthed the grotesque animal disguising as Mira. The tethers themselves weren't dangerous because to sustain a Distortion, they needed to be far away from the source and stay hidden, so as long as Luciel didn't come near it, he and Mira could use the hall as shelter for a short while.
His legs shifted course without hesitation, but a direction was better than nothing. He then noticed Mira staring at him like he was some exotic species.
Uncomfortable under her persistent gaze, Luciel asked with a low voice:
"What?"
Mira, with tears and snot coating her face, answered with a question of her own:
"Since when did you start sounding like an old man?"
'Old man...?'
Dumbfounded, Luciel scrambled for words to answer but to no avail.
Mira continued with a sniffle, "You used to just follow me around everywhere. Now you're bossing me around. Did a monster bite you?"
He was slightly amused by her lighthearted sarcasm to brighten up the situation. The heroic mask had somewhat faded, and now, she genuinely seemed childlike.
"I'm keeping you alive," Luciel said flatly.
Mira blinked in confusion, then gave a small, wavering laugh.
"That really does sound like an old man."
Luciel didn't respond. To be exact, he didn't know how to respond. His communication ability was terrifyingly lacking compared to the otherwise full arsenal of survival skills that he possessed.
"And why do you keep looking at me like that?"
He looked at her, stumped.
"Like what?"
Mira huffed, her nostrils flared like a small candle.
"Like... I'm about to die or something. I don't like it."
Mira was more perceptive than Luciel thought, which made him involuntarily averted his eyes to hide the melancholy.
"Well, you're hurt."
Her eyes flickered with that stubborn glint again, but it dimmed down just a moment later. She tilted her head against his shoulder, still sniffling.
"Then at least carry me like a hero, not like some sack of potatoes."
Hearing her comical request, Luciel laughed inwardly.
"I thought you hate the princess treatment."
Mira pouted faintly.
"I do! But if you're carrying me like this, you better not drop me."
"I won't."
Luciel adjusted his hold, shifting her higher in his arms.
"Satisfied?
Mira averted her eyes and stuffed her face into his chest.
"Not really. Heroes are supposed to say something cool. And what if your arms get tired? What then? I can still run if you put me down, you know!"
"They won't, so stay still."
She wriggled slightly in his hold as if her act of rebellion could do anything.
"Then I'll be your eyes. If a monster shows up, I'll scream first!"
Luciel almost smiled at that, but his eyes stayed forward.
"This isn't a game, Mira. I'm familiar with your high-pitched screams. You'd attract all the monsters."
Her nose wrinkled.
"Bossy and grumpy. You're definitely an old man! You look scarier than the monsters if you frown like that."
'I was trying to smile though?'
He let out a playful sigh.
This light conversation was beautifully tragic when he considered the fact that it was between the living and the dead, between two children running through the moribund town with their lives hanging by a thread.
Luciel wouldn't trade this moment for anything else though. Mira had returned to her naturally playful self, not having to pretend bravery and forget her own misfortune just for the sake of him. It was this playful optimism that forged her spirit invincible. Instead of forcibly pushing the pain away, which in Luciel's experience, would undoubtedly return to wreck double the havoc, she embraced it.
In the meantime, he succeeded in avoiding many of the Hollows rampaging across the streets by utilizing his superior instinct and calculation. But the town hall was nowhere to be found. He had been running nonstop, praying that each turn it would appear.
Seeing the endless turns, Mira gawked at him dubiously and asked:
"Do you know where you're going?"
Unsure of the situation himself, Luciel gave a vague answer to reassure her:
"The hall should be close."
Mira lifted her head a little to look at the sprawling streets. As Luciel continued treading slowly on the uneven path, a shimmer passed through her gaze.
"Wait. Take the left! I remember that street."
Luciel nodded and followed the narrow path, only to find it half-collapsed with rubble.
"...It's blocked."
"Then the right, obviously," she pressed on with a smug.
"You sure?"
Mira insisted quickly with a frown.
"Just trust me! It loops around."
He turned without a word and paced through the dark alleyway filled with dust and garbage odor.
"You could at least say 'good job' or something."
Mira gave a small huff.
"You'd be stuck without me."
"You only remember half the roads," Luciel said flatly.
She gave a little grin.
"Half is still better than none!"
Another turn, another cramped path that Luciel had to squish through carefully to avoid banging Mira up against the jagged stone wall.
Once the fog cleared up slightly, she pointed again over the open path.
"This one, I'm sure of it. The steps should be ahead."
A few strides later, the road opened up, and in the distance stood a broken silhouette rising through the haze—the decaying outline of Aurelleth's town hall.
Luciel looked down at Mira, to which her face lit up.
"See? Told you! I was right!"
His chest tightened due to excessive use of stamina, but he kept his voice even.
"Right. Good job."
Mira brightened up even more, her voice brimming with tired pride.
"Then let's hurry. We'll be safe there, right?"
Luciel adjusted his hold and stepped forward.
"It should be."
As the ruined hall grew closer, Mira lifted a shaky hand and patted his head. Her sudden warm touch surprised him.
"You... must be tired. Carrying me all this way."
She paused for a moment, her smile trembling. The silence became heavier by the second as she contemplated. Then she continued softly:
"Sorry, Luciel. I... I couldn't give you much help when you needed it the most."
'No. Why would you...?'
Confused, his chest then tightened again, and this time it had nothing to do with fatigue. Her words dug deep.
Just moments ago, Mira had been grinning, tugging praise out of him like always. Now she apologized, as if she had failed him when it was the opposite. She was never supposed to be the one saying sorry. She had already done more for him than anyone ever could. What he deserved was blame, not kindness.
"Don't blame yourself. This isn't your fault."
The words felt unnatural on his tongue. Mira had always been the one saying them to him when he broke her house's fence, when he lost her gift, or when he accidentally tripped her on the playground.
Just thinking about it made Luciel seethe with silent rage.
"If you need something to blame, blame those monsters who stole everything from us."
For a moment, Mira only stared at him, wide-eyed and unblinking. Then she showed him the faintest smile before tucking her face into his chest without a word.