Chapter Text
This is the last bone of my bone, flesh of my flesh
Because from me she’s been taken...
The voice almost didn’t sound real. Not when it was coming from the girl in front of her.
Leaves and limbs whipped around wildly, the air of concentrated magic making a wind only they could feel.
The blood rushing in Mira’s ears became equally as loud as the demons’ screams for mercy. From who, she wasn't yet sure. Only able to feel the pained wailing that sent an angry magenta rippling through the honmoon, and echoing through Mira’s bones. Everything reached her like a far away alarm in a dream, her brain trying its hardest to make sense of the scene in front of her.
She looked so broken underneath the glow of her demonic energy. Rumi’s patterns flickering across her body, as sharp claws dug into the earth beneath them. Strong arms rippled from the effort, despite the rest of her laying so limp and so tired, like she was using every bit of her energy just to keep herself barely restrained.
This was too much for Mira to process.
This.. was a nightmare. One that was unfolding right in front of her, and this time, she was not just a passive victim, or witness, or casualty.
A voice she knew all too well cut through the haze.
“Do it! Please… I'm sorry.. I'm so sorry, Mira but please. You have to-” a sob, and a flash of purple, “please…”
“Do what should’ve been done.. a long time ago.”
Right here. She was living it.
This was real. Rumi, this Rumi -her Rumi- was real.
And she was a demon.
Long, violet hair laid damp and completely unfurled against the dirt floor. Mira stood close to her, too close. Near enough for her to catch how Rumi’s usually calming scent of lavender that lingered from her shampoo now mingled with copper and petrichor, matching the current, grittier image of her.
Low hanging roots of the banyan tree continued to surround them in a swaying rhythm, illuminated by the red and purple light wracking the lines on Rumi’s body. The effort it took was plainly visible to Mira. Her chest emphatically rose and fell as Rumi tried to breathe through it, her claws still clinging to the floor of the woods as if it would soothe the pain - or answer her unwhispered prayers to swallow her whole.
Mira, the lover girl that she is, couldn't quite stop the ever present awe of how beautiful Rumi could be, even now. Even when the forest's soil speckled the twisted grimace on her face. Even with the exposed scars on her stomach from the low limbs and wood brush that tore through her shirt. Even with the deep flush accompanying her chest and shoulders, brought by exhaustion from running from her own, unfortunate, truth staring back down at her.
Mira wanted so badly to hold her, to kiss her, to run a thumb over the crease in her brow and whisper in her ear that it’ll all be okay. It’ll be over soon.
She’d wanted to ever since the moment Rumi ran through those glass doors. She’s been thinking about it with every step she took to follow Rumi, every hit the ground took from her feet. Running after Rumi without a second thought, despite the waves of panic and confusion burning in her lungs. She wanted to help, to understand - to save Rumi - since the moment they both ended up out here.
She wanted that so badly.
But there she stood, deathly still. Right in front of her, unwavering, unhelpful, and unmoving. Her chest heaved, body shaking from its own conflicted restraint. Then her stomach curled, the panic from earlier in the night suddenly twisted into something darker and more sinister. It was ugly and quiet and sure. Her body understood it a lot more than her brain was willing to accept.
She wanted to double over, Mira felt like her body wanted to claw its way out of its own home, and her dark brown eyes flooded with horror at the realization of what she would actually have to do.
Mira could feel it too. Each intake of breath, every twitch of muscle and bone, every bit of her training she called on - it was a fight against herself and against everything she’s ever wanted. It went against everything that she - that they - fought so hard for.
And, against her better judgment, Mira looked into the differing eyes staring back at her. Half-woman she loved, half-demon she never knew. Searching for a better answer in either of them, growing desperate as the brown and gold eyes looked back at her. Amongst the swirl of emotions, unspoken apologies, and unfulfilled wishes, she desperately begged for an answer. Pleaded for a way out.
Irises of brown and gold from the demon provided her with nothing but heartbreak and the cold, dead-weighted sorrow of truth. Rumi knew better than to hope.
Rumi wasn’t even scared anymore. Usually, Rumi would be - hell she was scared, at first. She would be fighting, or running, or hiding- anything. Because that's what she always did. She’d do anything that made it feel like there may be another choice. Another option,
but there was none. Not anymore.
She was just tired.
Tired of fighting, and running, and hiding, and lying.
There's no more lies to tell, no more secrets to keep, no more excuses to make. No other ending, no alternative.
And for a second, it was - almost - peaceful. Free.
But, nothing can silence the whistle of a blade once it’s swung.
Nothing can erase the blinding light, that winded feeling, that sickening crush of bone as it pierced and reverberated through the handle of Mira’s own weapon.
Nothing will ever soothe the sight of seeing her lover be at the other end of it.
That’s when Mira caved, when she finally held Rumi as she bled and tremors shook their bodies as they both struggled to breathe. She tried to hold Rumi together, bloodied hands clinging to whatever skin wasn’t scarred, like she was clinging to hope. Like maybe if she held on tight enough her human half could stay here, in Mira’s arms. Maybe with enough ‘i love you’s’ and ‘im so sorry…’, she could undo what’s already been done.
And she cried. Her body shook so hard it began to hurt, a pain barely felt over the agony of her loss. Of her grasp slipping no matter how far she reached. She cried, even as the only movement Rumi made now had come from the force of Mira’s own sobs. She cried, even as that ever present devotion still lingered in the iris of her most beloved. She cried, at how it remained, even as the light in them dimmed
and the now violet demon she once called hers slowly dissipated,
silently catching on the wind as something roseate and beautiful.
For a while, her soft stuttering breaths were the only sound that kept the deafening silence from swallowing up the woman left behind. Then, Mira could hear a scream echo in the distance, far and fuzzy at first, only for it to trace right back to her own ears, where her broken form lay against the unnaturally wide trunk beside her.
She slumped, and she held herself on that ground of the cursed banyan tree. The memories of all that had happened flashed behind her eyelids, over and over and over again. It was bright and it was violent. It was searing, it was all over her body, and it was so loud. It hurt to close her eyes from the truth, but it hurt so much more to keep them open.
Something was being ripped out of her, she twisted with the pain. Whatever it was, she wished her heart would go with it.
Her greatest nightmare unfolds right in front of her, leaving her bare. Hopes of her past and dreams of a future, being left for dead.
And as the rest of the night slipped away, she wished she would die with them.
-
I'm so sorry, I was too late. I failed you, my love.
But I'll make it up to you one day. I promise.
I love you.
Goodnight Rumi.
delivered 3:13 am