Goldie's punches blurred like memories you try not to remember. One second, she was in front of me. The next, her fist was already behind my head. I didn't see it coming. I never do.
"I'm falling behind" I thought. Not just in this fight. In everything. And then the memories came. Because of course they would. When you're breaking, your past shows up to watch. We were cursed. But we had each other. For a while, that made it okay. But now…
Now we're just fruit from the same tree, fallen, rotting in different corners of the world. We don't speak the same anymore. Not in words. Not in fists.
Goldie's next punch drove me into the floor. I stayed there for a second, face down, cheek pressed to dust and dirt and the weight of all my choices.
The sky was above me. Beautiful, careless. Birds flying like they were never told they couldn't.
"Why can't we be like that?" I mumbled to myself. Maybe I shouldn't be fighting for Jacob.
"You and your stupid fantasies!!! Wake up already, you monkey!!!". She dragged me back to my feet like a lifeless rag, her fists continuing the sermon. Each hit hurt harder that the last, like she wasn't trying to beat me, just beat the belief out of me.
And yet... the pain didn't register in my face. It was elsewhere. Somewhere deeper. Like something inside me was tearing. Not because I couldn't hit back. But because I couldn't hate her.
Maybe I'm wrong. Maybe he'll kill again. Maybe that will be on me. Maybe I'm the biggest hypocrite of all. Maybe… I'm making a mistake. Well..... that doesn't matter anymore.
I made my choice.
I chose to believe in something. Even if it's stupid. Even if it's doomed. I chose.... Things you do for your beliefs, right?
But choices have consequences.
"I hate that it came to this, Goldie," I whispered, soft and shaking. I broke free from her grip. My eyes burned. Not from the hits. But from everything else. And then I did the only thing I knew to do.
I played.
Not the Echomaker with strings, but with limbs. Every note, every chord, every sudden shift in tempo, I carved it into the air with my body. A symphony in motion. Fast, unpredictable. A melody born not from an instrument, but from instinct, emotion, pain.
"Dark Melody."
***
I wasn't just fighting Lyra.
I was fighting the stubborn ghost of hope clinging to her trembling soul.
The world didn't care about Jacob. It didn't care about the blood-soaked echoes Camille left behind. But here we were, two broken girls, spinning through a war that should've ended long ago.
She played it again.
That cursed melody.... Dark Melody
Not from her lips… not from some distant place… but from her soul. And her body moved like it remembered something it never wanted to, like grief given rhythm. The blades in her hands sang for her. Sharp, fast, too fast. Too unpredictable.
I felt something burn in my chest. It was rage maybe. Or something worse. Understanding…. That somewhere beneath all that blood… the Jacob she knew still breathed. That he could be saved, given the chance. And I... I hated it. Not her.. The world.
I wanted to believe it too. That we could fix this with enough mercy. Enough faith. But that's not how the world works. The world doesn't give you second chances. It just watches you bleed, then eliminates you when you disturb them. So I held my stance. Because someone had to. Even if it meant fighting her. Even if it meant breaking her.
I dodged again. Just barely. I saw her eyes. God, those eyes. Not angry. Not fierce. Lost. She didn't want to be here. She didn't want to hurt me. She wanted me to have faith in her decision. I wish I could. I tasted iron in my throat. I'd been holding my breath too long. Hoping... somewhere deep down, that she'd give up. But she didn't.
Camille's blood was still fresh between us.
Even if no one spoke her name.
My fists hesitated, caught between the duty I chose and the grief I never buried. I hated that she still believed in mercy. When the world… never believed in it.