Soren
The darkness was pulling him apart. Soren felt himself drifting away from the shack, away from the river, away from Pip.
Then, a sudden heat slammed into his chest.
Soren's eyes snapped open. The world was a blur of amber and silver. He couldn't move his arms, but he could see her.
She was kneeling over him in the dirt, her face framed by a messy halo of dark hair that had escaped its pins. The bruise on her cheek was a dark mark, but her eyes were wide, burning with a stubbornness that reached down into his soul.
She was pressing his cold, violet lantern against his heart.
"Breathe," she hissed. Her voice was trembling, but it wasn't weak. "You have to breathe."
Soren looked at her hands. They were small, stained with the grease from his floor, and shaking. She was leaning her own light toward his own, using her warmth to keep his heart from stopping.
He wanted to scream a warning. He remembered the feeling of being alone in the rain, the crushing sadness that had turned his flame from amber to violet. It was the feeling of a heart that had given up.
Don't, he thought, his lips barely moving. It's too heavy for you.
As she pressed closer, the violet light in the glass began to pulse. It reached out, hungry for her warmth. Soren saw her flinch. She was feeling it now. She was feeling the cold of the docks, the hunger, and the crushing loneliness he carried every day.
But she didn't change. Her lantern didn't turn purple. Her yellow light flared brighter, pushing back against the violet, refusing to be dimmed. She was like a pillar of salt in a rising tide.
"Stop," Soren finally managed to croak. He reached up with a hand that felt like lead, feebly grasping at her wrist. "You'll... you'll break."
Eira didn't move. She gritted her teeth, her eyes filling with tears as she fought the cold creeping up her arms. She looked down at him, and for the first time, Soren didn't see a "High-Tier" girl. He saw a girl who understood exactly what his life felt like.
"I'm not leaving you in the dark," she whispered.
The connection snapped. The violet lantern flared with a rejuvenated glow, and warmth flooded back into Soren's limbs. His heart gave a strong, steady thump. He was alive.
Eira collapsed back onto her heels, her breathing ragged. She looked at her lantern. It was still a perfect, steady lemon-yellow. No stains. No marks.
Soren sat up slowly, his head spinning. He looked at the girl who had just stared into his darkness and didn't blink.
"Why?" he whispered, his voice cracking. "You don't even know me."
Eira didn't answer. She just stared at him.
She quickly reached out and gripped the collar of his tunic, pulling him forward until their foreheads almost touched.
"Don't thank me," she spat, though the words lacked their edge, coming out choked and wet. Tears ran freely down her cheeks. "I didn't do this for you."
She swallowed hard, her gaze drifting briefly to the bandages she had applied with such practiced, gentle care only an hour ago.
"You're going to get up, and you're going to walk, and you're going to tell me every single thing my father said to you before he turned to stone. If you die before I get my answers..." She trailed off, her voice cracking. She took a breath. "I'll find a way to drag you back again just to... to scream at you."
She wiped the dirt from her knees with shaking hands, her fingers fumbling as she grabbed her lantern. She wouldn't look at him, keeping her back turned as she adjusted the flame, her shoulders hunched as if bracing for a blow.
"Now move," she muttered, her voice small. "The Wardens are coming, and I'm not losing my only lead to a jail cell."