Spring didn't answer. Couldn't. She only sobbed harder into Fall's chest, her face buried against him, fingers clutching at his coat like it was the only thing holding her together.
Summer's gaze flicked to Fall, narrowing. "Fall?"
He didn't flinch. Didn't speak.
But the look in his eyes was answer enough.
Summer's expression shifted. Confusion sharpened into realisation. But she said nothing.
Fall nodded toward her, just once. A silent ask.
Help me get her out of here.
Summer gave the smallest nod in return.
Without a word, Fall slipped one arm beneath Spring's knees, the other under her back, and lifted her easily into his arms. Her head lolled against his shoulder, tears still wet on her lashes.
The spirits watched.
Some curious, some whispering, none intervening.
They asked for shelter.
And the spirits answered.
Just past the square, they found an inn—half-formed, half-broken. A structure that looked like it pierced through time and space.
Twisting staircases spiralled around a luminous spring at its center, glowing pale blue.
It was still daylight outside. But when they entered, the stairs went up all the way to a sky full of stars.
At the front desk stood a spirit woman—tall, faceless, clothed in mist. She gestured soundlessly to the first door on the right.
The room was simple. A double bed with two small wooden bedsides. No windows.
Fall stepped inside and gently laid Spring on the bed. She didn't stir. Her body had gone slack in his arms—passed out, finally, from everything that just transpired.
He brushed her hair back, hand lingering over her temple, careful not to wake her.
Summer was there too, arms crossed tightly, jaw clenched. She stood on the other side of the bed, unmoving, a single vein at her temple twitching like a fuse about to snap.
Neither of them spoke for a while.
Summer couldn't take it. She turned sharply and stormed out of the inn, heat trailing behind.
Fall exhaled, long and heavy. He looked at Spring—her breath soft, her face streaked with dried tears. Then he followed.
Outside,
"Summer—"
"No."
"Please. Just listen—"
"Listen to you?!" she spun on him, eyes blazing. "What the fuck is happening, Fall? What happened to her?!"
Before he could speak, one of her daggers was at his throat. Her other hand trembled at her side.
"Why is she hurt again?" she growled. "I swear to every god—I'll end both of you."
Her eyes flickered like fire.
"Summer"
She stared at him, hard. Studying him. Not lowering her blade.
Then slowly, she pulled back—just a step.
"You're going to tell me everything," she said flatly.
Fall gave a single nod.
Her fingers tightened. The spell activated.
"What. Happened. That. Night."
The binding surged through her voice—
Fall's jaw clenched. His body resisted. But he obeyed.
He raised his left hand to his dark eye.
Smoke slipped from the edge of it—thick and coiling—and curled into his palm.
Summer gasped.
It was his monocle.
Once beautiful, etched in divine symbols and holy silver. Now? Twisted. Corrupted. Veins of violet arcane snaked through its frame like a disease. The craftsmanship was unmistakable. She knew it. She's seen it before.
"That evening," Fall began quietly, "I tried to take it off but it fused to my eye."
Summer said nothing. She just stared at him, while he stated the facts.
"I used a disguise to cover it. I was already losing grip of reality. After our ascension I just couldn't keep my arcane in check. I started keeping my distance from her."
"I didn't tell her," he continued. "At first I thought the monocle fused because of it. It was getting very difficult to control. I thought… if she knew, she'd..."
A flicker of hurt twisted in Fall's eyes.
That shouldn't have happened. Her trinket spell should've forced only the truth. No guilt. No fear. Just the facts.
"I couldn't see clearly," he said, voice cracking. "Everything felt… wrong. Warped. But I saw her. She smelled like her. Moved like her."
He stopped.
"Go on," she ordered.
His breath ragged.
"I thought it was her. I didn't know it wasn't. Until I saw her… the real her. After that I…"
Her spell lost intensity—she was suddenly unsure she needed it anymore.
His eyes…
They said everything.
She broke the gaze. The weight of it was too much.
The silence crept in.
Her voice was a whisper. "That's his binding. That's Winter's spell. He infected your trinket."
She backed away slowly, one hand to her temple.
"He didn't let you lose control. He made sure of it. He wanted you to lose everything. Both of you."
Fall looked away too. Standing still.
"Then who was the other person?"
Her tone was sharper now. Almost afraid to hear the answer.
He exhaled.
"I believe it was an illusion. Created by him. Controlled by him. I kept revisiting that night through lenses. Over and over again. "
A pause.
"That person wasn't real."
Silence.
Then softer—barely audible:
"Fall," she said.
He turned his head toward her.
Her voice wasn't the same anymore.
Something else had crept in—threading between the cracks of her fury. Guilt.
But then, just as suddenly, she turned and walked away.
Fall blinked. "Summer, what are you—"
"I'm going to blow of some steam," she said, stopping mid-step. Her voice was flat.
Fall's smirk rose, slow and sharp, despite himself. "Oh, you trust me with your little Highness already? That is all it took?"
His voice dropped, low and biting. "What if I am lying? What if it was me all along?"
She vanished. Reappeared an inch from his face.
Her dagger at his throat again before his breath could even catch up.
Her dragon eyes locked with his—searing, molten, pure rage. "You're playing with fire, boy."
"Don't I always?"
"You mean nothing to me. None of you do," she growled, voice like flame, "except her."
Her eyes narrowed. She looked like she could kill him without blinking and she would.
"It wasn't your words that made me trust you, Fall" she said.
Fall tilted his head slightly. "No? So what was it? Regret? For the curse?"
Summer smirked—slow and wicked.
"No, idiot, " she said. "isn't it obvious?"
She dragged the tip of the blade lightly across his chin. Deliberate. Slow.
"It was her." Her voice dipped low. "The way she said all those sweet things back there."
Fall froze.
"How she almost took you right then and there".
Summer grinned like a wolf. "That was delicious."
She took a step back, eyes raking over him. "I know you agree."
Fall didn't answer.
Couldn't.
Summer laughed and then sheathed her dagger.
She turned her back to him.
"It's your turn to get her out of the bed."
Spring stirred.
Eyes swollen. Face aching.
The world blurred like a bad dream, but her chest said otherwise.
Her memories were real.
All of them.
She didn't know where she was. Somewhere safe, maybe. But that didn't matter.
Not when the truth hurt like this.
She slid deeper beneath the blanket, curling in tight. Like if she just stayed still, the reality would vanish.
Fall didn't deny it.
Not a single word.
So it was true.
All of it.
She told herself she didn't need him to explain.
But maybe… a part of her had hoped.
That he'd tell her it wasn't real. That it was his fault.
But he hadn't.
And it cut so much deeper than a lie ever could.
Outside, she heard him.
Fall.
Not speaking. Just… there.
His presence pressed against the door.
Waiting.
Like he always did.
How could she face him now?
She told herself she hated him.
Held it tight, wore it like armour.
And he let her.
He let her curse him, scream, break.
He never fought back.
He just stood there.
Broken.
Cast away by the only people who should've believed him.
And still…
He came back.
He walked through the Veil to help her.
To save her.
A sob ripped from her throat.
Then another.
Her chest heaved, the pain spilling out like it had been waiting.
What have I done?
And then—his voice.
Low. Rough.
"That's it. I'm coming in."
"N-no—!"
He appeared out of thin air. Smoke trailing behind him as he moved above the bed, one knee sinking into the mattress.
"Spring… please…"
His voice was hoarse.
Raw.
Too gentle.
"I know. You don't have to explain," he said quietly. "Just look at me."
She pulled the sheets tighter.
"Spring…"
His voice dropped. Serious now.
"Look at me."
She froze.
Then slowly… her fingers loosened.
She sat up.
Eyes red. Hair tangled around her face and shoulders.
She didn't meet his gaze. Couldn't. Her breath hitched and stuttered.
Fall stood there, unmoving.
He hadn't expected this.
Not really.
The fact that she knew—that she believed him now—it shook something loose in him.
She buried her face in her hands. Her shoulders trembled.
She was crying.
And for once, he didn't know what to say.
What do you even say at a time like this?
Then—her voice.
Thin. Breaking.
"You let me hate you."
A breath.
"You walked me through the Veil. You saved me—every single time."
She looked up. Just barely.
"You were broken to nothing… and still came back as the State Arcanist."
Another pause. Her voice cracked.
"He tore your life apart… and I let it happen."
"I was supposed to be there. For you."
"How could I ever face you now?"
A silence.
Then—
"Why?"
She met his eyes fully this time.
"Why didn't you say anything all this time?"
Fall didn't answer right away.
The quiet between them was thick and loaded.
Heavy with every unspoken truth that built the wall between them.
Then, finally—he leaned in. Just slightly.
"Because you weren't ready to hear it. You wouldn't believe it."
His voice was low. Rough.
"Because it was still my fault."
"It was my fault. I was too weak… I couldn't control my power. It took control of me. That night. Right after I saw you—
the real you—"
His voice faltered.
Her breath caught.
"I couldn't stand the thought that that night was the last time I'd see you. I couldn't take it. And then Summer's curse and the others… I—"
Her eyes opened wider.
"I trained. Hard. For years. Day and night. To be able to find my way back again.
Being State Arcanist… it gave me something. A reason. It made me feel close to you."
His voice cracked at the edge.
"But when Summer's curse broke… and I could finally feel you again—after all that time—I lost all sense of control."
A breath.
Shaky. Pulled from the gut.
"I couldn't sit still. My body ached just being away from you. I had to see you. I thought maybe it was the curse still messing with me. Or maybe…"
A bitter laugh.
"Maybe I'd just gone insane."
He looked down again. Lower this time.
Every syllable soaked in shame.
"I figured you'd see me as a monster."
A pause.
Then quieter—barely a whisper.
"I knew you hated me."
Then he looked up.
Eyes blazing.
He leaned forward—
Close enough that the air between them crackled.
"But I'd rather you hate me."
His voice cracked.
"I don't want you to live without me. Hate me if you have to—"
"But we both know that's not true."
A beat.
The silence folded in.
Then—quiet. Unshakable.
"I heard you."
Her voice was steady now.
"That night. When you thought I died."
Her breath hitched.
She started to turn away—
But then—
Clear. Steady.
"I love you too, Lara."
Her name left him like it had been carved into his soul. Heavy than any enchantment.
And when it hit her—
It wasn't just a name.
It was a story.
A wound.
A vow.
Everything she thought she'd lost—
Everything he still carried.
For the first time in years,
She felt it.
All of it.
She didn't move.
Didn't speak.
Didn't blink.
Tears slipped quietly down her cheeks.
She didn't wipe them away.
Fall's expression shifted.
His gaze dropped—not in shame.
In fear.
Maybe he'd gone too far this time.
Maybe this was it.
The moment he pushed her too much.
He didn't move.
Didn't breathe.
Didn't dare.
Then—
"Vincent..."
Soft.
Barely a breath.
His head snapped up.
He blinked.
It couldn't be.
But she was still looking at him.
Steady. Fierce. Not flinching.
Not running.
"Vincent."
"Again," he whispered. Reaching. Trembling.
"Please."
"Vincent, I—"
That was it.
That was everything.
His mouth crashed into hers.
Not gentle.
Not careful.
A kiss full of grief and heat and longing too deep to speak.
His hands found her like they remembered her better than she did.
Her waist.
Her back.
Her jaw.
Gripping. Anchoring.
Like if he let go, the world would end.
And she—
She kissed him back like she'd been starving.
Like she needed to bury herself in him or fall apart completely.
She tugged at his shirt, hands trembling.
Pulled him closer. Closer.
She fell back onto the bed, and took him with her.
Still gasping. Still kissing.
Her breath hitched as his weight pressed over hers, solid and hot.
No hesitation.
Only heat.
Only ache.
Years of tornment melting away.
He froze—
Just for a moment.
Hovering above her.
Forehead nearly touching hers.
His eyes searched hers. Wide. Dazed.
Like he couldn't believe she was real.
And then—
She whispered it again.
"Vincent."
One single word and it played him like a violin.
He kissed her again.
Harder.
Clothes slipped away between them—slow, uncertain.
Fingers shaking. Breath catching.
Desperate.
Like each piece they shed took a piece of the past with it.
When they were finally bare, skin against skin—
He paused.
His hand came to her cheek.
Eyes locked to hers.
He didn't say a word.
But the way he looked at her—
It said everything.
You are everything.
When he moved—
He moved slow.
Deep.
Unsteady at first—overwhelmed by feeling her again.
She gasped his name.
Arched into him like she couldn't bear any distance.
Her legs wrapped tight around his hips naturally.
He thrust into her with aching control.
He needed her to feel everything that he couldn't say.
Their rhythm built slowly.
Silent at first—
Then louder. Sharper.
Their breaths tangled.
His mouth brushed her shoulder, her throat, her lips again—
He couldn't stop.
She gripped his back, his arms—anything she could reach—
And when they came undone—
Together—
A raw, shuddering surrender.
A love too heavy to carry in silence any longer.
After all those years—
All the pain.
All the distance.
They were finally home.
When their breaths finally settled, neither moved.
They clung to each other.
Spring rested her head on his chest.
Above her, Fall stared at the ceiling—he would thank the gods, if they still listened to him.
"You're real, aren't you?" he whispered.
"This isn't the Veil?"
He let out a quiet laugh, bitter-soft.
"If it is… I'm never leaving."
Spring smiled faintly.
He wrapped his arms tighter around her.
"I didn't know demons had heartbeats," she murmured.
"They don't," he said.
She lifted her head slightly, brows knitting.
"I can hear it now. Yours. It's faint but it is there."
He looked at her then.
"Then it means that I got one because of you."
Her breath caught.
Her smile widened. She rose up.
"Vincent…"
Something in her voice—too gentle, too full—made him stop her.
"I know you're sorry," he said. "But don't be. I should be the one apologising. I did cheat on you. I crossed that line."
"But he tricked you," she breathed. "You were blinded. You didn't know what was real—how could I possibly—"
"I should've fought harder," he said, voice low. "If my arcane hadn't already been breaking loose, I could've—"
"You didn't tell me," she said, hurt but soft. "I knew something was wrong. You felt... off."
His gaze dropped, regret thick in every breath.
"I couldn't bear for you to see me like that. We were just starting our life. You were so happy. I was happy."
"And I was supposed to lose you anyway…" she whispered.
That shattered him more than anything else.
"No. No."
His hand came up to her face, gently.
"You didn't lose me. You would've never lost me."
A pause. A breath.
"…Had he not intervened…"
She looked down again.
Trembling.
Disbelief flickering in her eyes.
But then—he let go.
A crooked smile tugged at the corner of his mouth.
"Look," he said, lifting his wrist.
"Lucky you have this. In case I ever get lost again."
The rune. Flaming alive.
Her breath caught.
"You… you stole it from me?"
He tilted his head.
"It was already mine."
That smirk.
The one that made her insides burn .
Her eyes widened—
Memory hitting like a wave.
"When did you lose it?" she whispered.
His grin faded.
Serious now. Honest.
"I think that spirit took it from me when I almost died. It wanted to give it to you."
Memories flooded her—
The boy.
"You never took it off," she murmured,
"Even when it stopped shining."
His smile softened.
"It's still the best thing anyone's ever given me."
Her heart lurched.
Almost couldn't take it.
But then—
The smirk returned, cocky and unrepentant.
"But I bet that prince charming of yours spoiled you rotten."
"Don't." Her voice cracked, sharp as lightning.
He stopped.
Spring looked up at him—into him.
Through every shield he wore.
"He's nothing to me, Fall."
Her voice was low. Dangerous.
"The next time I see him, he better run."
"He stole everything from both of us.
He used your weakness against you.
He tricked me. Controlled me."
Her hands trembled.
"The fact that he touched me…"
A pause. A bitter breath.
"It makes me sick."
Fall stilled.
The air between them turned fragile.
"I meant every word I said."
His breath caught.
"It was always you."
Her voice wavered.
"No matter how much time passed. No matter how hard I tried."
Her lashes fluttered, tears threatening.
"It was always you… not him."
A gasp.
From him—sharp.
Raw.
Her gaze dropped.
"I might be cursed too," she whispered.
That was it.
He reached for her—fast, desperate.
His hands in her hair, on her waist.
And then he kissed her.
A kiss that tasted like madness and forgiveness, like grief and love and all the years they'd survived apart.
She gasped into him—
And he deepened it.
Her fingers clawed at his back—
Her body trembling from the sheer force of it all—
But still, he didn't let go.
When he finally pulled back—barely, just to breathe—
His voice came low, wrecked, against her lips:
"If this is the curse…"
His forehead pressed to hers, eyes shut, breathing ragged.
"Then please—give me ten."
She smiled.
But Spring didn't get a chance to answer.
BANG.
The door slammed open.
"You've got to be fucking kidding me."
TBC