As her small body fell to the floor, mug slipping from her grasp, it took every fiber of my being and determination not to catch her—or, at the very least, set her on her bed. She looked so vulnerable, tiny and harmless; certainly not the proud, glowing image of what should have been the hero of Kaleila.
It was still difficult for me to comprehend that Tia—my air-headed, naïve, and ditzy Tia—could have made such a name for herself in so short a time. My pride had sorely objected, of course, and it had been difficult for me to show her anything but the same tough love and minimal respect she had known for years. I worried, though. I worried for her safety, about those shady chumps that trailed after her like lost puppies…and her sanity. She really did need to stop talking to that book of hers, fairy-people or not.
What had been at the top of my list of troubles, however, was her aptness to trust others so unhesitatingly. That gaudy eyesore…what was his name? Anwar? He had kidnapped her at one point, and she acted like it had been a merry little outing to a tropical oasis. And then there was Duran—she constantly encouraged him, accompanying him on his ridiculous excursions. Really, she'd be the death of him one day.
But, worse yet, she had trusted me. That idiot had trusted a thief. She knew that I held my own interests at top priority, that my nature was inconstant and fickle, yet she had stuck with me through thick and thin.
Tia was still that small, innocent girl I had met so many years ago: loyal, kind-hearted, stubborn…the type of person that radiated warmth, like the sun personified.
Forcing a chuckle (one that rather resembled the sound of someone choking), I tried to regain my cool, squatting down and reaching for the Book.
"I guess even heroes trust their best friends."
"What the hell, you stupid blockhead? She should have been able to!"
I flinched, falling backwards onto my ass as I stared at the source of the angry voice. I couldn't see a thing; only that Book's creepy eye flitting about.
"How could you do something like this?! It isn't right!"
("Infernal boy…we should have foreseen this.")
Werman had warned me about the Spirits, but I'd been hesitant to believe him; from his descriptions, they were shackled and resembled miniature people that were bound to the Book. Supposedly, they were its guardians: those who kept the book from evil hands. Before I could pursue this train of thought further, I was interrupted again—this time by a softer, calmer male voice.
"She loved you, you know. Anything she did was to prove her worth to you—show you that she wasn't a child anymore, and yet you've trampled everything she's accomplished underfoot. You truly are the lowest of the low—"
"Shut up! You don't know a thing!"
Scrambling to my feet, I grabbed my mug, dumping its contents onto the surface of the Book before making a grab for it. The voices had ceased; I only heard frantic whispers now, no longer directed at me. Gritting my teeth, I chanced a look at Tia. She was still out cold, completely unaware of what I had done—what I had done.
I felt a knot tighten in my stomach. I didn't dare even consider the notion of her forgiving me this time, but…it was something I needed to do.
Not for my sake, but for Meenya's.
Pivoting, I shouldered my way past the door, Book of Prophesy clutched tightly against my chest. I may have hurt her; I may have lost the best friend I'd ever been lucky enough to have. But the end would justify the means—it had to. It would.
After all, he had promised.
Oh my God. This didn't come out nearly as well as I hoped it would. Please, dear readers, forgive me for the lameness of my story. Dx
Anyway. This was supposed to be a one-shot focusing on the night of Rex's betrayal. I would hope he would have felt a little conflicted—after all his preaching about being your best friend or loving you and suchwhat and whatsuch. I'll try to upload a few fics for Avalon Code, and then I plan to move on to a sequel for Remembrance and maybe a prequel/original story for DN Angel. Until next time!