Child of Death --- Arcane

He'd learnt the hard way that one's expectations needed to be tempered, lest delusion ensue. So, he told himself she had died. That she wasn't strong enough, that Vander didn't save her. It was just easier that way.

Despite what he told himself in his waking hours, he had dreamed this moment a billion times, a reunion with a ghost. Each time, it was full of joyous crying, two children meeting each other after so many years apart. They'd embrace each other, holding one another as if letting go meant the universe would end. But now that the moment was here...

"V-Vi." He whispered, a smile of disbelief stretching his scarred cheeks. His armor suddenly felt too heavy for him to support. His legs collapsed under him, all his energy gone to convincing himself she was real. In an instant, his life before played, reminding him of their now-broken bond.

Everything she did for him, everything he tried to do for her. The endless times she patched him up and stayed with him after he was beaten. The trips she took with him to the fissures when Sevika couldn't. The drinks she shared with him, the times she stood up for him when Mylo was being a jackass, the love she showed him.

But as the overwhelming memories of the good flew through his mind, so did the bad. The arguments they got into, especially towards the end. The resentment buried in her eyes at his physical incapability. Those words she said to him, the way she left him... and how he left her.

He once believed he was sating his thirst for revenge by leaving her in that rubble. That was the belief of a boy, desirous of revenge against those who he perceived had wronged him, a belief he held a lifetime ago. Vi, even at the end with all their spats and disagreements, cared for him. But he was blinded by his own hatred.

He could not pretend to be free from the shackles of his rage, nor could he even convince himself he had done anything but devolve into more of a wrathful brute than he ever believed possible. Were it not for Sevika and Jinx, he would not recognize himself as the infirmed boy he once was.

Then he saw it. Blood was pooling through her shirt, dripping onto the gravel beneath her feet.

"Long time no see." She smiled faintly, her arm slipping from the door frame as she began to fall towards the recovering enforcer. He was there before even he realized it, catching her into his grasp.

"What happened?" He asked, receiving no answer. Her eyelids fluttered, fluctuating in between open and closed as she went completely limp in his grasp. Fear overtook him. He didn't know what to do. He stood, his eyes focused on her in horror.

"Set her down here." The enforcer pointed to a flat spot in the ruined building. He did what she asked, not even thinking twice about taking orders from a Piltie. "She needs medicine, and soon."

His hand reached towards the pouch of vials he kept with him, feeling an empty purse. Panic flashed in his mind, quickly replaced by rage. He swiveled, turning to face the awkwardly standing Pim.

"The vial, give it to me!" He held his hand out expectantly, as Pim rifled through his pockets. After several agonized seconds, he produced the vial in his hand. Mahlon shot his clawed hand towards it, but Pim pulled it away, his hollow eyes transfixed on the Shimmer. "I will not ask again."

"You would give what is rightfully mine to the girl who attacked Sevika?" He kept it just out of Mahlon's grasp.

"I would snap your neck and pry it from your fingers." He threatened, his voice poorly hiding the fear. "Give it to me."

Pim let his hand fall forwards limp, the vial resting between his forefingers, his demeanor having shifted. With a violent yank, Mahlon retrieved it, instantly turning his back to his informant. He approached his old friend with fearful reverence. The world seemed to strip away from his peripherals as his vision tunneled onto her.