Time had stopped meaning anything.
The days bled into one another like water spilled over a page- soft, formless, grey. Morrigan moved through the world like she was underwater. Muffled. Slow. Detached.
She went to class. She answered Alice's texts with half-hearted emojis. She stared out windows for hours, waiting for a sign she couldn't name.
But Samael didn't come.
Samael had taken something when he left- something invisible and vital. A piece of her soul. Or maybe he hadn't taken it at all. Maybe it had always been his, and now she was just feeling the weight of that truth.
She didn't know where he was- only that the cold emptiness in her chest meant he wasn't near. His absence wasn't just emotional, it was physical, like something had been cut from her with a dull blade. Every heartbeat felt heavier. Every breath less full.
They'd kissed. They'd touched. And for a moment, it had been real.
But then he vanished.
And she was left with silence.
I should've gone with him. The thought haunted her constantly.
But she hadn't. She stayed. She thought she was doing the right thing- keeping the balance, protecting him from more judgment. But every day she spent without him unravelled that certainty. Every night alone twisted the decision deeper into her ribs like a knife.
Her dreams were the worst. Sometimes she saw him standing in the snow, eyes hollow, mouth parted like he was calling for her. Other times, she saw the Tribunal -faceless judges in a colourless sky- stretching their hands down toward her chest, reaching for her soul like it was a condemned artifact.
And then, it started.
A shimmer of light in her apartment mirror.
A hum beneath her bed, like a tuning fork held to the bones of the world.
At first, she thought it was her imagination.
Until the light started growing.
It began at her fingertips, threads of gold light curling like steam from her skin. She blinked, backing away from the mirror, but the light followed. Then, suddenly, it exploded- flooding the room in blinding brilliance.
She screamed.
But no one heard her.
The walls dissolved. Her furniture vanished. The air became heavy, thick like honey. Her body floated, suspended in brilliance. She couldn't see. But she could hear.
A voice, not loud but absolute.
"Morrigan Elira Marah."
Her heart stopped. It was neither female, nor male. Neither kind, nor cruel.
"You have breached the sacred Veil. Touched the forbidden. Learned what was not meant to be known. You have loved what you were never meant to touch."
Her heart pounded. She tried to scream, but no sound left her lips.
"You are summoned."
The world as she knew it had shattered into a million pieces.
Cold.
Wind.
Breath.
She opened her eyes to find herself standing on a plain of pale grey ash.
The sky above was muted and endless, a canvas of silver fog. Golden threads arched and twisted through the distant air, glowing and shifting like celestial silk. Buildings rose around her- monolithic and surreal, made not of brick or stone, but of breath and smoke, caught mid-exhale.
The Veil.
It was beautiful in a terrible, reverent way. Not a place made for the living. A realm of quiet endings. A world of silence between beats.
And she was not welcome here.
Figures emerged- dozens, maybe hundreds, all draped in dark-coloured robes. Their faces were obscured, heads bowed, hands clasped. None spoke. None moved.
Then the centre of the gathering shifted, and from the smoke rose three figures.
The Pale Tribunal.
Nyra: eyes sewn shut, her skin glowing faintly like moonstone. She stood tall, unmoving, as though every breath passed through her for judgment.
Baraquiel: no ears, his bald head smooth and glinting. His face was expressionless, hands gripping a staff carved from petrified time. His silence was absolute.
Moksha: no mouth, golden stitching wound tightly over her jaw.
Morrigan trembled.
"Morrigan Elira Marah, your soul is to be undone. You will fall into the abyss. Your memory will fade. You will not be reborn."
"No," she whispered, her voice swallowed by the vastness. "Please- please don't do this."
The Tribunal gave no answer. Baraquiel stepped forward, raising the staff.
The floor behind Morrigan began to tear open. A vast back hole formed, shredding through the fabric of time and reality.
The unravelling.
The closer she got to this abyss, the more pain she felt, like threads being plucked from her ribs. Her vision blurred. Her memories began to slip- the first time she'd seen Samael, the curve of his lips when he almost smiled, the way her name sounded when he whispered it like a sin.
She was forgetting him.
She was fading.
If she fell now, everything would end- be that good or bad. There would be no more judgement. No more conflict. No more cosmic tension. No more Samael. Through her head, Morrigan was thinking that it would overall turn out as the best option for them. If she fell, there was a chance Samael could escape judgement. There was a chance he would be safe.
Then-
A voice cut through the Veil like thunder cracking stone.
Samael.
She turned, barely able to stand, and there he was- pale, marked, eyes blazing.
His crimson seal glowed like fire on his skin, a brand of divine rebellion.
"Samael," she gasped. His name felt like oxygen.
He ran towards her in a blur, ignoring everyone in his path. Mist span around his ankles as he moved. He sprinted across the grey field, shoving through the silent watchers. His body collided with hers just as she began to collapse.
He caught her.
He always did.
"Run," he whispered, hoarse. "Don't look back."
Together, they fled- through pillars of ash, past buildings made of breath, toward the edge of the world. She felt the Veil shudder behind them, bending its laws, bending the sky, trying to erase the path they carved.
Samael opened a passage- made not from doors but from light and mist- and they fell through it like a meteor crashing back to earth.
The cabin welcomed them with snow-drenched silence.
Morrigan stumbled inside, collapsed onto the frozen wooden floor, her lungs burning with stolen air. Samael slammed the door behind them, locking the six different locks down the side of the frame and closing all curtains in the lodge. For a long time, neither spoke.
Samael collapsed against the floorboards, panting. Morrigan stood in the centre of the room, shaking with rage and grief and a thousand splintering emotions.
Then, her voice cracked like ice.
"You idiot."
He turned, startled.
"You should've let me die!" she shouted, tears pouring now. "That was the way out. You could've been safe."
"No," he said, stepping toward her. "I couldn't. You think I care about the rules now? You think I can live with myself after everything- but not you? I chose you, Morrigan. Every time."
"You chose wrong," she spat. "We're doomed, Samael. You were selfish. We'll never be free now. You should've let the Tribunal finish it. At least then it'd be over."
He knelt beside her, gently touching her hand, like she was made of glass.
"I would rather be hunted," he said softly, "than live a single day in a world without you."
She wanted to scream at him.
But her throat gave out. Her body collapsed against his.
And they stayed there- two broken souls clinging to each other in a world that had already decided to forget them.
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