For a moment, Cyrus sat in shock, unmoving. Then slowly, he wrapped his arms around Azalea, slightly leaning into her. There was a warm, fluttery feeling in his chest as Cyrus relaxed against her, content to just lay there.

It was like falling in love all over again.

He should have expected the pain.

He wanted to curl into a ball, put his hands over his ears, and hope that it will finally heal, and he will finally be okay. Instead, he wrapped his arms tighter around Azalea, still hoping it will be alright. They would not take this away from him. It did not matter if it hurt, he could get through it if he held on a little longer. She returned the pressure with a tight squeeze.
"I'm always with you, Cy," she whispered hoarsely.

"And I will thank you always for it," he whispered back. They slowly loosened their arms around themselves, not wanting to let go, but needing to get back on track.

"How—" Cyrus cleared his throat, and tried a second time, "How do we fix this?" He gestured to his head, and to her. Azalea frowned,
"I don't see how we can relieve the pains. The only thing I can think of off the top of my head is a numbing spell." He shook his head firmly,
"No, I don't want that. I'd rather deal with the pain. It may be painful, but I can handle it."

Azalea sent him a searching look,
"Are you sure you don't?" He swallowed and replied,
"Yes, I am." Cyrus wasn't trying to be daring, or test how far he could handle it. It was the loss of feeling that scared him. To not love, to be loved. To not feel guilt or sympathy. To not feel anything. Although it would take away the pain, it would take away all the other things as well. He wouldn't be Cyrus, not without the sad and happy.

"Okay," Azalea nodded. She went on to explain where they were at,
"To find Aevia, according to the legend, there is a message within an ancient book to show the way to it. It goes something like this:
If you wish to seek,
The kingdom of Clouds,
That which lies beyond
the highest peak,
In dreams it shrouds

Go where time is indefinite,
A place of peace and war,
Beware for although exquisite,
No creature gone has returned before.
So we figured that we need to go to the Timeless Woods. The only problem is we don't know where it is or how to find a way to find it."

"Seeking spell?" Cyrus suggested, before realizing that would be extremely easy to get there, "Okay, maybe not." Azalea laughed a little,
"To perform a seeking spell, you would have to know where you were going. Picturing the place, along with the strongest feelings associated with the place. Helps narrow down the possible places you are seeking."

Cyrus frowned a little, confused,
"Then there's no need for a seeking spell then?" She shook her head,
"No, there are other reasons to use a seeking spell. Like, finding someone lost." Cyrus understood immediately.

Even off doing whoever knows what, Azalea never stopped looking for him.

He stood up and walked over to the spruce desk, a quill and map covering the majority of it. A faint familiarity hit him, but he was not aware of it, seemingly caught in a trance. Cyrus ran his fingers over the map, running them over the four kingdoms, then trailing off the map.

"Cy?" Azalea asked, worry laced into her tone. Her voice was just a tickling at the back of his mind. He was caught up in feelings of mystery and awe. A lethal kind of danger, yet beautiful nonetheless. His eyes closed of their own accord, and flashes of ruins and castles flew across his mind. Swirls of rosy pink, skylit blue, and pastel purple filled the dark sky. It was not just the stars glowing, yet the galaxy itself.

Clouds danced across what he saw behind closed eyelids. Like a flower unfurling its petals, Cyrus opened himself to the magic in the world around him. Instinct took over him completely, and he spoke the words,
"Monstrant Viam."

The map emitted a silvery light as it started floating above the desk. His arms were outstretched, as if he was reaching for something. Beads of sweat rolled down his forehead as the map grew larger and flipped over to face them.

As it expanded, more city names started appearing on the map, as well as bodies of water and forests. At the edge of the map, in bright, cursive, silver font, the name 'Timeless Woods' appeared. Azalea stared in awe, but quickly shook herself out of her stupid in time to catch Cyrus. He lay against her tiredly, the silvery glow from the map slowly fading away.

"You did it," Azalea breathed out, a grin stretching from corner to corner. Cyrus smiled as well,
"Sure did, Zaley. I definitely need a nap now." She almost dropped him when she registered that he used the nickname he had given her once upon a time. When he looked up at her with his round grey eyes, she choked out,
"Okay, no problem."

Azalea helped him stumble to the couch and lay down, also feeling like she needed to lay down. Gods, she missed him saying that so much. He was finally right in front of her, but Cyrus felt miles away. Anything he felt would only be a shallow reflection of what they once had. She couldn't hope otherwise, lest it tear her apart. Her chest still ached, though close to him.

Maybe, after they return his memories, the ache would lessen. If only just a little bit.

This Cyrus did not carry the full burden of his memories, and she couldn't help but think that perhaps it was better like that. Shielded from the brunt of war and the toll it took on both of them. Azalea glanced at Cyrus, who had fallen fast asleep on the couch. He was curled up like a little puppy. His ashy blonde hair fell into his face, tickling his cheeks. A tranquil expression appeared as he relaxed, snuggling more into the couch.

Perhaps it was selfish of her to shield him from the truths and lies, and perhaps it was selfish of her to reveal them to him and crack him once more.

Did he not deserve to have a normal life? Ignorance is bliss, but with so many people after them, he would be on the run for the rest of his life without knowing why. The memory-knives would continue to happen whenever something familiar struck him, and he would wonder. He would wonder about the mysterious woman.

In the end, she knew it was better to help him heal his memories. He could decide where to go from there.

Azalea shook her head sadly. They would never have the chance for a normal life. But then again, if she had the chance to redo the past, she would not change the fact she fought in the war. When you have the chance to do something, even just something little, you take the risk. Those lives were worth saving. Worth fighting for.

She could not live in peace knowing she could have saved so many other lives. Even now, her soul was still not at rest with all the lives taken away from this world in front of her eyes. Perhaps one day, it would settle.

She missed the friends the war took away from her too soon. The memories of them filled her with strength and courage, but it had a bittersweet taste. At least they were in a better place now. Away from the four kingdoms' troubles.

Their souls could finally have some peace.

🌺-🌺-🌺

"Cyrus, Cyrus, wake up," Azalea gently shook him awake. He opened his eyes slowly, before he closed them back again, abandoning the fight to stay awake. She shook him harder,
"We have to go now. The Assassin's Guild is after us." His eyes flew open, and Cyrus almost rolled off the couch in surprise.

"There's more of them now?" She nodded grimly,
"Someone must of put a bounty on our heads." His eyes widened,
"We're fugitives? But we didn't break the law! Did we?" Azalea almost cracked a smile, seeing Cyrus' hair all mussed up and clothes wrinkled. It provided a quite comical reaction.

"No, we did not break the law," she told him, pausing for a moment to let Cyrus breathe out a quick sigh of relief,
"This bounty must have been put on by the Underworld of criminals and baddies." Cyrus blinked at her,
"How many people have we angered?" Azalea waved her hand reassuringly,
"Ah, only a few hundred or more. And only four fifths want to kill us!"
"Those are not reassuring odds. Can we get out of here now?"
"With pleasure."

She helped him up, and he smoothed his shirt down, trying to get rid of at least some of the wrinkles. Azalea then ran to the closet behind the couch. She took out a small brass key, and inserted it in an invisible lock that clicked open when she turned it. She took out two blades, looking as sharp as the ones in her memories.

"Azalea, I don't—" She held up a hand,
"They are yours. Whether you keep them or not is up to you, but it would probably feel safer to have a weapon on you. Especially in fights."
"I don't know how to use them," Cyrus winced as another memory-knife stabbed him over the very familiar sight of his blades. Seeing the look on her face, he gave in,
"Fine, give them to me."

She tossed them to him, the two blades twisting in the air like dancing to a duet. He did not have enough time to panic and find cover before they sliced his face off. Like with the map before, his instincts took over without him realizing, and he caught one blade in each hand. He held them deftly for a couple moments, before realizing he actually caught them and promptly dropped them. They clattered to the floor with a clang.

"Why did you throw them at me?" Cyrus exclaimed, bending down to carefully pick them back up. He grabbed the hilts, being cautious about the sharp silver blades attached to them. Holding them in his hands felt both familiar and unfamiliar. Azalea lifted a shoulder,
"I knew you could catch them. When you aren't thinking about it, you can do the things you previously did. Muscle memory and instinct is what you fall back to when all else fails."

"Quite a risk you're taking there." She patted his shoulder,
"I had utmost faith in you, don't worry."
"Of course, your faith in me will definitely keep me from slicing myself with my own blades," Cyrus replied sarcastically. Azalea stared at him for a few moments before he let out a laugh,
"Never mind, I'll leave being sarcastic to you." She rolled her eyes playfully, nudging him slightly towards the door.

"Okay, let's actually go. We need to get a move on before they start catching up to us." Cyrus nodded. He slipped the blades into their sheaths and strapped them to the side of his belt. He turned to her once more, a questioning expression as he asked,
"Wait, how close are they?"
"Most of them have just entered the kingdom. Several are in the city, so we need to leave the kingdom right away."

"You have many friends in high places," Cyrus commented. He opened the door, the sunlight streaming in.
"And in low ones as well," Azalea added, walking through the doorway with steady footsteps. Her faithful metal staff was strapped to her back, and there was a determined gleam in her eyes.
"We will get to Aevia."