Page 91 of Fallacies

Twigs snap beneath my feet, and one more bounding step has me falling down the short drop to the creek bed. I barely catch myself from slamming into the hard ground, forcing my body upright as I begin racing down the rocks, not stopping until I reach the edge of the stone overlooking the waterfall.

All I manage is a short inhale before I throw myself off the edge, plunging into the pool of water beneath it, and as soon as the lukewarm water envelops me, I let go.

Every muscle contracts, my skin stretching against my bones, the release of pressure blurring my vision, but I can see the water around darken, the rocks lining the pool absorbing each wave of magic as it’s expelled from my body.

There’d been so much of it trapped inside that as soon as it’s gone, I’m utterly empty.

Despite how light I feel, I sink straight to the bottom, and not even the silence beneath the water grants me solace. There’s no relief to be found.

Whatever that was, it was too close. Too much. I’ve never in my life felt anger that intense, and I’ve entertained murder…on multiple occasions. No, that was foreign.

My lungs begin to burn, a painful reminder that I’ll need to breathe soon, but I hold out as long as I’m able. I wait until my consciousness blurs, threatening to slip, then I break the surface with a gasping breath.

I force my eyes open and freeze.

Callan stands stock still on the rock above me, one foot forward as if he were about to jump in. But he stopped. And I don’t think he’s breathing.

“I’m sorry,” I start, fumbling for a way to explain myself. “I’m fine, I just⁠—”

“Your eyes.”

My brows pinch. “What?”

He’s still not moving. Not even blinking.

“Callan?” I move in the nearly black water, flinching when I catch a glimpse of my reflection in the darkened surface. It’s too blurry to make out anything other than two flashes of gold where my eyes should be.

Without even taking a breath, I force myself beneath the surface, scrubbing my face with my hands until my skin burns. When I pop back up, Callan has made his way to the edge of the pool, and whatever I just did must have worked, because his shoulders visibly fall, relief softening his features.

My hands begin shaking as I move them through the water, pulling myself towards him. The urge to cry is strong. To scream or run or drown or dissolve into nothing. It takes over my entire body, and I’m far too weak to fight back.

I don’t reach for the hand Callan extends. I don’t even take a breath as I slip under the surface again, stilling my limbs until I’m weightless.

I know he won’t let me drown, but I just need another second to gather myself. Suddenly, everything is too much.

I hear the splash it makes when he jumps in, the water rippling around me. A strong arm slides around my waist, pulling me to the surface.

“You’re okay,” Callan tells me, holding me tight against him. “You’re okay,” he repeats, and the gentleness in his tone kickstarts the first of my tears.

They slip over my cheeks, down my neck, and into the water, but no sound accompanies them.

In all my years, in all the things I’ve been through, I’ve never once felt sorry for myself. Sad and self-loathing, sure, but never sorry. I always knew it wouldn’t do me any good.

But right now, it’s all I want to feel.

Callan helps me to the edge, wordlessly pulling me out of the water and planting me on the rocks. He sits right next to me, his clothes, his shoes, all soaking wet as he gathers my hands and holds them close to his chest.

“I’m so sorry,” he says, the crack in his voice making my tears fall faster. “I’m so sorry, Cin. I wish I could take it all away.”

I force down a deep breath, but it gets trapped in my lungs. When I cough it up, I cough water up too, spitting into the water below.

Callan curses, pushing the sopping hair off my forehead. “Lucina, talk to me. Please.”

I force down a steady enough breath to look at him.

Water beads along his skin, his dark hair soaked. Where there was fear on his face only seconds ago, now it’s grave concern. He’s worried in a way that looks painful, and I know it’s because he’s trying so hard to understand what I’m feeling.

The problem is, I can’t make sense of it either.