Ignis opened his mouth to argue, but stopped short, clenching his jaw shut. Griff pressed on.
"And you know I'm right. So why? Why are you so set on being miserable, Ig? Why can't you just let go of that shit and just accept that she's finally come home where she belongs? Why can't you support her?"
"Because I'm scared she's going to die again!" Ignis shouted, voice wavering with emotion. "You're right—I'm being an insufferable asshole. I can't feel any joy at her coming home. Because the last night I saw her, she had her fucking heart stopped by that…that monster, and then magically she's all healed and then she fucking leaves? Griff, open your eyes! This isn't normal, he's not normal, and Charlie's not safe here. She should've just stayed in the city."
Ignis released his grip on the back of the chair and began to pace.
"You have no idea what I saw that night. There was so much…fucking blood. And those soldiers? And then Adagium…or Reiem or whatever his fucking name is… He just…killed her! Stopped her heart right there with some fucked up magic bullshit! I saw the light fade from her eyes, and then…they both glow and she's suddenly alive again?" Ignis rounded on him, grabbing him roughly by the shoulders and shaking him. His voice shook almost as violently, and Charlie had to hold back her own tears as she tried to hear what he whispered. "That's been the past nine years, Griff. An endless cycle of guilt and blame and soul-crushing depression at the fact I let my best friend die…"
Griff stared at him for a long moment. He'd never seen Ignis explode like that before. He always brooded alone since that night, kept it bottled up, tucked away. Now the emotions were just spilling out of him—fists balled up, hands trembling, looking like he was about to either cry or kill something. Griff couldn't deny what Ignis was telling him was the truth, but he didn't know how to handle it.
"Why couldn't you have just talked to her…?"
The fight seemed to drain from Ignis, shoulders slumping and face dropping in defeat. He looked like he'd aged ten years right before Griff's—and Charlie's—eyes.
"It's not going to matter," Ignis whispered. "She's home. She's not going to leave, not that Adagium's awake again. I guess we have no choice but to…to watch."
Griff broke his silence and pushed past Ignis. "Watch all you want, then. I'm not letting all the shit I've done go to waste. Not again."
Charlie took what precious seconds she had left to focus on just what it was she was doing. She needed something from the pantry but couldn't remember what. She didn't want to face this—not now. Griff's steps faded into the house. With a deep breath, Charlie left the pantry and stepped into he family room in time to see Ignis give her one last look before walking outside to the porch.
Cautiously she rounded the stairs to see Griff hunched over on the couch. He looked up as she entered, a small smile appearing on his face before it vanished just as fast. He didn't seem ready to talk about it, and Charlie wasn't going to bring it up. She couldn't.
Instead, she swallowed the lump in her throat and said as playfully as she could muster, "The pizza's gonna be frozen again before we eat it, you know."
The smile she got this time was honest, and thankfully, it lingered.
‡ † ‡
As they bickered over pizza toppings, Griff was much more reserved than he should have been, yet Charlie understood, given what just took place. He stared down at his slice, distant. Feeling she was going to regret asking, Charlie nudged him playfully with her elbow.
"Hey, big guy, what's going on in that fluffy head of yours?"
With furrowed brows, he turned to look at her fully. "Be honest with me. Do you…you know, have to do this?"
Charlie blinked. "Do…what?"
"This whole Guardian thing. I mean, just waking Reiem up was…fucking, I don't even know. I'm scared, Charlie. He seems…unhinged?" He fumbled over his words for a moment before growling slightly. "Can't you just run the orchard and be normal?"
"You and I both know that I can't do that, Griff." She shrugged, avoiding eye contact and taking another bite of her slice. "It doesn't matter what anyone else wants. I have to do this."
"It matters when you risk fucking dying, Charlie. Didn't you ever think of having a normal life? Dating some idiot guy, settling down, and having a bunch of annoying kids? Why do you have to become Guardian?"
How could he ask her that? She didn't even know what she was going to do. Her emotions were a frazzled mess, and frankly after witnessing Griff and Ignis go at it like they hated each other, she just couldn't deal with being interrogated. She knew Griff cared about her, but this tactless way of showing it was so uncharacteristic of him.
"I don't have a choice," Charlie snapped, angry tears brimming in her eyes. "And hearing two of the people I care most for arguing over it like they have any idea what's going on just makes it harder for me. My house is covered in magic sigils. I died but came back from the dead. And my own bodyguard is some immortal guy, and I… I'm scared, too, Griff. I want to do this…I really do…but I'm scared that I'm not strong enough."
Her voice cracked on the last words as the lump in her throat grew. Swallowing hard around it, she ducked her head to hide the traitor tear that had begun to slide down her cheek. She'd already promised herself she wouldn't cry anymore. Not until she was alone, anyway.
A moment later, however, Griff reached out and pulled her close, wrapping his thick arms around her and squeezing. His large form was solid, sturdy, and warm, with the faint scent of Tal's shop clinging to him just underneath his usual cedarwood cologne. And he was like an anchor grounding her, holding her through the storm raging inside.
"I love you, Charlie," he mumbled, tightening his grip slightly. "I'd do anything for you, but…I'm so scared."
She shook her head, pressing her face against his chest. "I know, Griff… I know."
"Don't think for a second that I'm going anywhere, though. But…can you make a promise for me, baby girl?"
Charlie pulled away, looking skeptically at him. "Yeah?"
He fumbled for a second, looking for the right words. "If shit goes south again, like it did that night… If you ever think you're taking on way too much, just…reach out, okay? We're here for you, so don't be afraid to call out. We'll help share the load."
Charlie nodded against his chest, not knowing just how much she needed it until he squeezed her tight. She sighed when he finally let her go. A happy sigh. Like a thousand weights had been lifted from her.
"Did he at least seem…alright?"
"As far as I could tell, yeah," Griff sighed. "He's a little less…uh, there, than I'm used to, but I seriously think Marianne did some fucked up shit to him. I mean, he's either gonna come out, or he won't."
"What if he gets worse?"
There was a beat of silence—one in which she felt a deeper panic. She remembered how Reiem had looked—barely alive, pale and broken and…and scared. And she could understand…and couldn't help but feel like she was carrying his fears, his worries and doubts, within her own chest.
"He just…" Griff started, but interrupted himself, shaking his head.
Charlie knew what he had meant to say; they were both thinking it; they had both seen him, with a blank look on his face, stumbling away from Charlie with that look of abject terror on his face. And then—before they could really comprehend it—Reiem screamed in absolute horror and slumped down on the ground as if he had been burning at the stake for eternity. He cried out about 'Master'. He and Charlie spoke, but she couldn't remember what about. She could only remember the movements, the feelings—vividly.
"He just needs some time," Griff finally said, a strangely wise air about him. He was still the dork she knew and loved when they were younger, and despite clinging to that silliness, he was slowly becoming a kind and compassionate young man.
She couldn't help but let her eyes wander from his face, past him and down the hall. Griff followed her gaze to the front door. He gave a sigh of his own before getting off his chair.
&
nbsp; "Griff?"
"Gonna check on him," he said with a grin. "Don't worry about it, okay? Whatever happens, I've got your back. You're my girl, after all, right?"
Charlie stared in wonder for a moment before smiling.
"Sure am."
IV
Ignis couldn’t help but shiver as he wove in and out of the trees, finding his headspace clear up only to be replaced with a gnawing anticipation as he went. He stopped, scanning his surroundings carefully. It was like his own inner turmoil had manifested around him, making the place seem particularly ominous.
It was a new moon that night, and even with his phone flashlight lighting the path ahead, the forest was smothered under a heavy, oppressive darkness. It hung like a mist, swirling over and around him, almost tangible but just out of reach.
"This feels…wrong," he muttered to himself.
From behind he heard steps—heavy and steady—coming his way. He whirled about, aiming his light just as the hulking form in the shadows before him melted into one he didn’t really want to see at that moment: Griff. Eyes narrowing but still full of relief, he turned back around.
"I don't think it's safe out here right now," Griff said, confirming what Ignis felt inside.
Thinking back on it, knowing what he did and with the sinister atmosphere that had steadily darkened since Marianne died, a realization was starting to dawn. Nothing was normal anymore. He couldn't pinpoint what it was exactly, but something in the quiet stillness was making the hair on the back of his neck stand up. It felt oddly familiar though, kind of like…
"Hey, doesn’t this feel familiar to you? I can hear voices in the trees."
Griff put his hand on his shoulder. "It's not safe," he repeated. "Dude, just…come back to the—"
"Be quiet."
Ignis turned off the flashlight. After standing for several minutes in dead silence and minimal light, he definitely heard something. No, not heard—felt. Like a slimy sensation in the base of his spine, writhing and squirming, struggling for freedom. The feeling had gradually intensified, and it wasn’t long before he could almost taste it in the back of his throat. He'd never been afraid of the dark, but this—this was dark. If it hadn’t been for the fact he saw Griff just moments before, he'd have never known he was there at all. That level of darkness set all his self-preservation instincts on edge.
"You feel it, too?"
"Yeah," he admitted, taking a step into the inky blackness. A few steps later, however, the anxiety had turned into full blown panic. "Griff?"
"Yeah?"
"Why are the apples glowing?"
All around them, the apples began to pulse with an almost rhythmic light—faint at first, but then it started to grow. The light raced through the trees in a series of straight lines and sharp angles, forming geometric designs neither of their brains could comprehend.
"There's something out there."
The words had just left his mouth when a shriek sounded in the distance.
‡ † ‡
Uncomfortable now that she was once more alone with her thoughts, Charlie tapped her fingers on the edge of her plate. She wanted this to be easy, calm. Tensions were already strained enough without another argument, and she hoped to whatever was out there to hear her prayers that things would finally start to settle, and that she could find her place on this bizarre and winding path.
From upstairs came the scrape of an old doorknob followed by a faint squeal. She looked up to the railing, already knowing just who she'd see, but her breath still caught in her chest as she caught Reiem staring down at her. His hair hung over his shoulders like strands of the palest gold, throwing shade over his features and further deepening the dark blemishes around his eyes.
In silence he descended the stairs and moved—his legs shaking a little—into the kitchen. He pulled out a chair and sat down, staring blankly ahead as water from his still-wet hair dripped down his face and onto the table.
Feeling more concerned than awkward, Charlie got up and headed to the master bathroom. She returned a moment later with a fresh towel, a brush, and some thick hair ties. Putting on a gentle smile when Reiem glanced to her in confusion, she set them on the table.
"I know this is gonna be weird," she stated. "But…I remember how shitty Grandma always was to you. So, would you mind if…?"
Charlie gestured to the items on the table for emphasis, feeling strange about openly saying she wanted to dry and brush his hair. The guy didn't exactly look like he was in a hurry to do it himself, and it just felt awkward to see him sit with the sopping wet mess at the table.
Reiem caught her meaning and looked away, nodding once before closing his eyes.
Charlie toweled as much of the long, silver-blonde hair dry as she could before tackling it with the brush. Whether she pulled too hard with each pass or not she never knew for Reiem sat in complete silence. Every now and then his head would bob back with the motion, his shoulders slumping down little by little. The initial awkwardness melted away as Charlie found her eyes moving to each of the tattoos she could see poking up over the wide neck of the shirt.
Satisfied, she gathered Reiem's hair into her hands, rolling it over until it was finally tied back from the man's face. She set the brush down and slid back into her seat.
"I want to thank you again for saving me," she said.
"No thanks are needed. It was my duty." Reiem's voice seemed disconnected.
She felt the soul-sucking cold break through her defenses and creep into her bones. A violent shudder raced through her. While the events came only in fragments after the move, she was lucid enough now to put them together. But there were still gaps—ones she wanted filled, and the only one who could tell her what really happened was finally before her.
As if sensing her thoughts, Reiem squeezed his interlocked fingers together.
"Do you remember what happened?"
Charlie shook her head slowly. She met Reiem's eyes. His expression was a little clearer, his eyes a little less dull.
"Not all of it. I remember the party, the soldiers, and…pain. I was terrified. And then just…cold. This soul-sucking cold. Rushing water and…screaming." Oh, sweet Erde, the screaming… By now her voice had petered to a trembling whisper. "What was screaming?"
"Lost souls," Reiem answered, calmly at first. "Doomed to forever linger upon the line between the world of the living, and the First Gate of Death. Never to know peace, and never to find rest."
This time it was his voice that fell into an almost inaudible hush. Charlie wanted to understand—not knowing terrified her more than the nightmares—but hearing Reiem say those words with such defeat quashed any conflict she held. Instead, she felt pity for those souls.
"That's terrible," she heard herself whisper. "Isn't there something they could do to—"
"Egregious sins require atonement." Just like his eyes, Reiem's tone held no emotion—no light, no life. "For some, the punishment never ends."
He stood and gathered what remained of the dishes from the table. After washing them, he took in a shaky breath.
"It was my fault. Please forgive me, but I had to kill you if I was to save you."
That was the part she couldn't remember…until now. Bleeding out on the floor, with Lori, Ignis, and that soldier in black all looming over her. As her vision began to fade, Reiem's face filled what remained—and then she was gone. Dead. Only to open her eyes a second later to see that hellish place. Hear the rushing water, the cries…the laughter.
Listening to Reiem's whole confession was so much harder now that she was fully aware the nightmares were just her fractured mind trying to tell her the truth. A strong urge to pace overtook her, but she remained confined in her chair—she was sure it was because her shaking legs would give out should she even try to stand. And she was silent throughout.
Every now and then Charlie would shoot him a look as if asking him to confirm this was just another shitty dream. But he wouldn't look at her. Even when he'd reclaimed
his spot at the table, he stared down like a guilty, trembling dog. Like he expected some sort of punishment. Unsettled, she finally looked away.
"Please say something," he begged when the silence became too much.
Charlie opened her mouth once, then closed it. Her throat was too constricted right now for words, but she tried again. "What do you want me to say?"
"Anything. Scream at me, tell me what a terrible creature I am, that you want me gone from your sight. Just…something," Reiem urged, and Charlie finally turned her head back to make eye contact.
She immediately regretted it because now the man looked afraid, terrified, like she'd never seen him before. The look made her feel sick, and she slowly stood, finding strength somewhere within her trembling body to carry her over to the back porch sliding door.
"Charlotte…" Reiem said in a frail tone. "Please understand that this wasn't a decision made solely on my own. We all believed that it was the only way to ensure you didn't suffer, and that you come back to us in one piece. There was no malice in my actions."
"I know," Charlie said softly, her voice a little cracked. "I mean… I guess I kinda knew? There's a lot that I remember that I can't explain, and things I don't remember that I know I should. But I'm still here…thanks to you," she added with a faint smile.
She watched Reiem's reflection in the glass. His eyes were on his lap, one arm wound around his abdomen like he'd done so often years ago. It was like he never fully healed from a wound he'd received, like he always feared one wrong move would rip it open and he would bleed out. Maybe he didn't have a wound at all, but just remembered the pain. That wasn't something Charlie would ever forget—she'd never forgotten the pain of the dagger, after all.
The room fell into an uncomfortable silence. Neither knew what to say which could make the situation better or even less difficult, which was fine since this wasn't something so easily diffused. More than anything, seeing the complete and utter fear on Reiem's face was like torture.
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