"Go away," Canelis hissed at the beginning of a shoe creeping past the doorway. "Leave me alone."

As usual, it was Cailen's voice who peeled from the dim lighting. "I'm not going anywhere, General," he said. "I have to see if you're alright."

She threw her hands up in the air. "I'm perfectly fine, being the only one who got back," she said. "What's not to love?"

"You're talking like a flower-child on oshella," he noted, as if that explained everything brewing inside her. "Of course, you're not fine."

Canelis rolled her eyes despite him not seeing it. Hunkering inside her space and driving out anyone who dared see her in such a state was enough of a sign. Why did he need more? It's not like she could straighten up and show her face to an entire congregation, not when she left part of a troop meant to weaken the fortress and came back as a lone soldier.

She wouldn't be alright, especially when she stood in the middle of a battlefield, seeing nothing but embers and broken swords stuck to the ground. No one would be alright if they remember what they have to do to survive. They ran.

And for someone like Canelis Frachdal, running wasn't an option. It was never in the list of things to do in a war or in any fight. She was only here because she refused to accept Pidmena's call and join her comrades in their sacrifice.

She was alive because she was a coward.

General Anerin must be furious in his grave. Somewhere in paradise, he cursed Canelis' name and her father's name, and his father's name. Whatever curse the dead threw at her, she'd gladly accept it, because she left him there to die.

She left all of them to die.

And it wasn't because she wasn't skilled or the plan was faulty to begin with. If she was any good, she'd be able to turn the tide on her own, defeat those witches on her own. If she was the Renagener they kept insisting she was, then, Xai-Ren and Yin-Alora would have been freed a month ago. Her people wouldn't need to hide out in plague-stricken cities, awaiting the next time their enemies rooted them out on their own turf. They wouldn't run around with no leader, trying to weather out an uncertain time while betting their lives. None of them had to die for the sake of the territory and their people.

Canelis gathered what's left of herself towards her, resting her forehead on her knees. She didn't need to look to know Cailen hadn't heeded her request and insisted on camping outside her room. He could do what he wanted, but it didn't mean she would let him have his way with her.

"Come on, you can at least eat someth—"

She shot up, hands clawing for a face, an arm, anything. Her fingers closed around a wrist, and with a blur, she yanked at it. Her other fist curled in and rushed where she deemed his face lay. A strong force closed around her fist, stopping it inches from an ear. In the dark, she didn't notice her world swirl until her back slammed against the wall, dislodging small chunks of debris and sending them raining on her.

Her eyes must have adjusted to the eternal dark nights in Ok-Sa, because she registered Cailen's dark hair hanging past his eyes as he stared her down. "Look, I know you're upset, but don't push people away like this," he breathed, voice low to mask the pleading tone laced around it. "Don't push me away. I'm here for you."

It occurred to both of them that they're only a few inches apart, and that their breaths mixed with every iteration. He had her wrist pinned to a wall, and no matter how she squirmed, she couldn't find the strength to fight him.

Not this time. She picked a fight every step of the way, but when she should have, she didn't.

"Let me go," she snarled.

Realization glistened in Cailen's eyes, and he stepped back, tucking his hands behind him. He flashed her a regretful look. "I'm sorry, General," he said. "I was not thinking."

"Clearly," Canelis massaged her wrist, noting how it throbbed and burned but for an entirely different reason. What did that mean, anyway? "I need to be alone."

"But do you want to?" Cailen answered, not moving from his spot a few paces away. "Do you know what you want right now?"

She scoffed. "Don't run circles around me," she crossed her arms and sank to the ground. Her legs folded together once more, exposing the worn straw slippers she walked with since she came back from Edgerift. They have seen a thousand journeys, and yet they were still here. "I'm not in the mood."

"You're always not in the mood," Cailen peeled off his spot and moved towards her, gauging her expression. Well, he's not going to leave her alone, and he's strong enough to evade her attacks in case she wanted to throw him out. Besides, it's not like she's in the right element to throw punches that'd kill. "But I'm staying."

Canelis snorted. "What made you stick to me like a damned dagrine?" she asked. "Last I checked, you hate me because I'm born into my family and I grew up behind walls."

"And now you've ventured far beyond said walls and have grown in ways I never thought you would," he answered. What was he, her new father? "Besides, the more I get to know you, the more...interesting you become."

"What about me is interesting?" she cocked her head at him, for a while forgetting about the things she mulled about just a few seconds ago. "We're on the same journey, the same army, and the same craphole as now."

Cailen shook his head. "Maybe for you, we're the same, but everyone's on different paths, Can," he said. "You and I included."

She reached out and smacked him lightly on the shoulder. "What made you into such a philosopher, huh?" she asked. "You sure you didn't study under some scholar?"

"Nope," he answered before jerking his chin at her. "See? You smiled. Turns out, what you need isn't some alone time."

Canelis' lips flitted down when he pointed it out. "You didn't see anything," she said.

His face darkened with some kind of mischief as he smirked. "But I've seen everyth—"

"Cailen!" she yelled the way she did when she's commanding a platoon.

He froze. She did too.

"Did you just..." he wagged a finger at her face which she slapped away. He knitted his eyebrows. "Did you just call me by my name?"

Canelis scooted away from him as if he could see the heat creeping up her cheeks in the dark. What was that about, anyway? "Isn't that you?" she asked. "You wouldn't listen to me had I not done that."

"I'm still not listening to you right now," Cailen closed the distance she put between them unwittingly. "You want me gone, remember?"

She scowled. "Suit yourself," she muttered under her breath, turning her face away from him. If she saw that moronic grin on his face one more time, she might lose it. "Just don't force me to talk about it."

"But we will talk about it," he waved a hand in the air. "That's what I came here for—"

She whipped to him, all amusement leaking out from her pores. "Seriously, Cailen," she said. "Not now. Please."

"Okay," he deflated and pressed his back against the cold surface of the wall.

Silence reigned upon them, two keijuis born to wield light in their fingertips sitting under the shadow of the night. She sighed and craned her neck up. Past the jutting edges of what have once been this room's ceiling lay the vast spread of stars. It's...amazing.

"I'm sorry," Canelis blurted once her tongue stopped sticking at the roof of her mouth. Or maybe the awkwardness had gone through her head, and she decided she couldn't take it anymore. Perhaps, she did need the company. "I know you're trying to help."

Cailen rolled his shoulders. "It's no big deal," he said. "I'm always here for you."

"Yes, but why?" she prodded.

"Must it have a reason?" he raised an eyebrow, throwing her statement back at her. "Why can't I just say I feel like it?"

Canelis scoffed. "You're impossible," she said with a brief shake of her head. "You know that, right?"

"Yeah," he said.

Another beat. Two.

"Is it too early to ask what you're going to do now?" Cailen said.

She scrunched her nose. "Maybe," she said. "I don't know."

Finally, she shoved her fingers into her unkempt hair and mussed it. "I just don't want more people to get hurt."

"There is one other way of doing that," Cailen said quietly. She raised her head from her knees to face him fully. "You have to fight for your voice."

Maybe it was because she expected him to say a different thing, or that she played right into his verbal traps that she sniffed once. Then, twice. Her eyes burned, and no matter how she blinked them, the tears didn't stop coming. Within seconds, she tucked into herself, her shoulders shaking and her breaths malfunctioning.

What's wrong with her? It's not like he declared his love for her. It's just a slew of empty words, strung together to create the impact he's been dying to utter since forever. But...why was she bawling like an unfed flower-child? It wasn't because of him, right?

The thing about emotions was that they're about as easy as freeing two cities from a tyrant. And even as she felt a comforting warmth press against her, as gentle hands smoothed her hair down into orderly strands down her back, she found them to be elusive. If she's not careful, they could be dangerous. Deadly.

But as she stayed inside that warmth, even if it was probably Cailen who took the liberty to "help" her by embracing her, she realized she didn't want to leave. And if feeling emotions were something that'd make her feel alright, then she wouldn't mind doing it for all eternity.

Even if it killed her.