Chapter Text
The air seemed to grow colder as Lucio and the rest of the group neared the mountain. Lian still hadn't woken from the magic fever. The fever had lasted longer than before. Three days and they still didn’t wake. When the night swallowed the day and silence was all that was left, Lucio could hear the fizzing. A sound that was barely there but stuck in his mind nonetheless. He was glad not to have to carry them. Besnik could keep doing it.
He hated this trip. He hated that this was his fault. The only thing making this bearable was this witch. After all, he didn't have to even lift a finger. They did it all. All for him, just like he deserved. Honestly, he didn't mind not going back to Vesuvia if it meant that Lian would continue to pamper him. If they didn't wake up, Lucio wasn't sure what he would do. Of course, he wasn't about to dwell on that. Lian would wake soon, and Lucio wouldn't have to worry anymore.
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The fourth night felt like every other night except for the noticeable lack of fizzing. Lucio brushed away a curl and pressed a hand to their forehead. The fever had cooled to near nonexistence. Lucio carefully lifted Lian off of besnik and set them on the thin bed mat Lian had traded for by fixing a carriage once.
Besnik, Mercedes, and Melchior curled close to Lian as if protecting them from the chill that slid off the mountains. He ignored the attention that Lian received; no doubt, when they woke up, he would receive attention tenfold. All Lian had to do was wake up. Thin trails of smoke lifted into the air. No doubt his mother was still on his trail, but that was an issue for when they got past the gateway.
A deep breath left his lungs. He closed his eyes and asked the powers to bring back Lian. His prayers didn’t stop until his mind faded into a comfortable darkness.
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Lian sat in a void. staring out at the endless void. Lian held their breath. The ink rippled as The Forest sat next to them. Its wilted antlers, still falling into the watery depths beneath them. The ink held for now, but it didn’t stop the fear. didn’t stop them from asking, “When can I go back?”
“Soon.”
“You’ve said that before; it's not a real answer.”
“Do you want to go back?”
“I do.”
“You're going to have to run.”
“What do you mean?”
A thin gold and white path formed beneath them. The Forest began to run its hooves, crushing against the path as if it were snow. Lian stood and began to chase after the Heart. The path began to melt into the void. They screamed for the Forest to slow down, but the path melted faster than they fell into the void.
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They opened their eyes, finding themselves floating in the void. The Forest looked down at them. “Run.”
Again, the path formed, and they ran with all their might, this time being able to just see the Forest in the distance.
Still, the path melted with a sickening slosh. Pulling them in with a quiet pop.
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Their eyes opened, the ink still sloshing as they got up and started to run even before the Forest could say something.
The Forest caught up with them and whispered, “Run faster.”
Again, they were pulled under the ink filling their lungs as they tried to swim after the fading path.
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They shot up the ink splashing. The Forest tilted its head. Lian was up and running again as the Forest opened its mouth, but they weren’t fast enough; they were never going to be fast enough.
Again.
Run.
Again.
Run faster.
Again.
Run farther.
Again.
Run better.
agRaiUnN.
The words melded until they stopped having meaning. Every single time the path melted, no matter what magic they used, no matter how hard they pushed themselves, they were not fast enough. Lian was beginning to crumble under the weight of the repetition.
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Lian was sick of running, sick of the path, sick of the ink, and especially sick of how the Forest never seemed to fall.
…
Never seemed to fall.
They were running out of options and needed to get out of here. So when they fell and eventually floated back to the surface, they grabbed onto the Forest. Thick burning silver covered their hands, but they were ahead of the falling bits of the path. The Forest shook and chanted for them to run.
The Forest dragged Lian to a bubble of white amidst the ink and shook them off. The white crushed beneath them. A burgundy door pushed through the white.
The Forest was still chanting, run. Thought Lian had gotten to the point that they thought the Forest was just filling the space.
They walked to the door. Their still silvery hand mixes with the blood colored door. The Forest began to scream, “RUN RUN RUN.”
The words rang in their head as a chain coiled around their legs, pulling them into the white. Lian scrambled and clawed to the surface, the white shifted and melted away as they were pulled into the ink.
After everything, it was for nothing. They thought they had finally gotten out, but it was all lies. They waited for the float as the chain pulled them deeper and deeper. Their lungs were emptying of air, and their vision blurred.
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They shot up when the ink finally broke. Before they could think, they got to their feet and ran full speed. till something tackled them to the ground. They struggled and begged, “Let go of me. I have to make it to the end of the path.”
“Lian! Look at me, what path?”
Their breathing came in broken spells. Lian opened their eyes, finding themselves pinned down by Lucio. They looked around at the green grass. No ink, no snowy path that wasn’t snow. Finally, no more running.
That's when the tears came. They didn’t know how long they had been running but they were rushed with relief. Lucio got off of them, but Lian pulled him back. “I thought I was gonna be trapped forever.”
Lucio didn’t know what to do as they clung to him. Their heaving sobs shook through him. He lifted them into his arms and carried them back to the others.
He’d ask more questions when they weren’t shaking the streets worse during his parades.