309. Last Goodbye

White.

A world of white was all the Archivist could see when her eyes readjusted to the light.

It had no origin. No shadow was cast. The pale world was endless. She jolted a little, alarmed by the sudden change in scenery. Her head wagged left and right in search of a soul or a clue as to where she was.

“D-Did I die?” She asked herself, peering into open palms. “Is this the afterlife?”

“Is it?” A voice suddenly spoke from behind, causing her heart to drop as she tried to turn to the source.

But before she could, a peaked cap was placed onto her head, forcing her eyes to look down at a pair of black leather boots. They were giant compared to her brown footwear. Their trousers were neat. Not a single blemish or fold could be seen...

The Archivist felt stupid for focusing so hard on those things. An unconscious defense mechanism stopped her from the one conclusion her mind could only make. Their presence, that voice:

“You were a bit of a comedian, weren’t you? Not on purpose. I guess I mean to say that you were really clumsy. There wasn’t a day when you didn’t fumble that notebook or scribble out the same few words a hundred times.”

And that warmth.

This person was Sinder.

The Archivist couldn’t form a single word. She was so choked up by his uncorrupted presence that she didn’t know how to react. The peaked cap hid her forming tears well.Diiscover new stories at novelhall.com

“... W... why...” She whimpered.

“Our last goodbye. I’ve still got one page left in me. And I don’t mean Cinder Civitas. I mean my book. The diary you brought along. You still had it after all this time. It probably didn’t make much sense to you, and that’s alright. The diary you held was one of a kind.”

She imagined him smiling. His hand pat her through the cap as she heard buttons click.

“It was painful. It was hard being all alone again. You brought my book here to save me, huh? I’m thankful. But I don’t think I can stay here anymore.” He leveled himself with her eyes, but she still couldn’t look up into his as tears rolled down her cheeks.

His crimson eyes were gentle, and they glistened at the sight of his distraught friend.

“I’ve hurt you twice. Both times you tried to help me with open arms. But this time, you did it. You saved me.”

Please. My attachment kept me chained down for so long. I can’t keep crying forever. I want to see the world my friends love. I want to live in this world they all tried to protect.

If I try to keep holding on, then I won’t be able to move forward.

Sinder’s smile blossomed as though he could hear her thoughts.

Then, with what was left of his form, he fondly watched over her, a single tear falling down his cheek.

“Anna. Keep your head up high. There are stars in this world.”

He disappeared. The fleeting embers were carried away by a non-existent wind. All that remained of him was his apparel and the quill.

These were the Corrupted Items of the Crowned, and she tightly wrapped herself with it, embracing the peaked cap and the coat as she cried out her heart.

< The Book of Cinder has been erased >

< The Book of Civitas Cinder has been completed >

Nav didn’t interrupt her. No other prompts were shown. She allowed the Archivist time for herself. Nav empathized with her in a strange way. Because she too would want the world to give her room and the dignity to cry if the time were to ever come.

That being said, the Advent of Desire would soon be disappearing from the skies. Its Nex reserved were thoroughly used, and it had granted what the Advent considered a major wish.

This would then cause the Advent to return to its dormant form and seek fleeting, minor wishes to entertain elsewhere.

Where it would go was uncertain.

But what was certain was Nav’s physical form.

All turned to black for both Nav and the Archivist.

And the next time they awakened they’d surely be standing side by side with their precious friends.