They moved through the woods carefully, away from the charred clearing that had been both sanctuary and battleground. The only light came from the moon and the occasional clusters of stars peeking through the canopy. Each step forward felt like another length of chain dropping away – especially for the Coinbearer. More than once he paused, flexing his hands and rolling his shoulders as if confirming that the invisible shackles of Hell truly no longer bound him.
Elise stayed close by his side, mindful of his weakened condition. He had survived centuries under Hell's contract and a battle with a mad Librarian's magic, but he was not unscathed. Angry red burns from the hellfire chains marred the skin of his neck and wrists where they had touched him, though they were already cooling from livid crimson to dull welts (perhaps a benefit of the unnatural resilience Hell had given him). Still, each time he inhaled sharply at a sudden bolt of pain, Elise's concern grew.
After about a mile of slow progress, they reached a small brook babbling through the woods. The Coinbearer sank down on a smooth boulder by the bank with a weary groan. Taking the opportunity to tend to him, Elise quickly knelt by the clear water and wet a relatively clean scrap of cloth from her satchel.
Wordlessly, she stepped in front of him and raised the damp cloth to his face. With gentle care, she wiped a streak of soot and blood from the edge of his jaw where his mask didn't cover. The Coinbearer started slightly at the unexpected tenderness of her touch, but then went still, allowing her to clean the grime from the half of his face that she could see.
In the moonlight, Elise glimpsed more of him than ever before – the curve of a strong jaw, the faint outline of cheekbone beneath pale skin, a hint of a brow below the mask's edge. He looked to be perhaps in his late twenties, were he mortal, though she knew chronological age meant little for him. A spray of old scar tissue – burn scars like those she'd seen earlier – spread across his left cheek. She passed the cloth there extra gently.
"Thank you," he said quietly when she finished. She wasn't entirely sure if he meant for the cleaning or for everything that had transpired in the Library. Perhaps it was for both.
Elise offered him a small smile. "You've done as much for me and more." She rinsed the cloth in the brook and handed it to him so he could wipe down his own hands and neck if he wished – a small privacy she felt he deserved after the unmasking events of the day.
The Coinbearer nodded in gratitude. As he dabbed at a scorch mark on his throat, he tilted his head. "How are you faring?" he asked softly.
The question surprised her; she had been so focused on him that she hadn't assessed herself in a while. "I… I'm all right," she said, and upon reflection found it mostly true. She was utterly exhausted, yes, and her emotions felt raw, but she was not physically injured. In fact, some heavy knot of fear inside her had loosened after confronting her father's memory in the Library, a burden she hadn't realized she was carrying had lightened. "Tired," she added with a weak laugh. "But truly, I'm alright."
He inclined his head, accepting her answer. Then he reached inside his cloak and produced a small flask. Unscrewing the cap, he offered it to her first. "It's just water," he assured gently.
Elise hadn't realized how parched she was. She accepted the flask eagerly and drank several gulps. The water was cool and tasted faintly of silver – likely stored in some enchanted vessel, drawn from a pure well in Hell or beyond to sustain an immortal servant like the Coinbearer. She handed it back and the Coinbearer drank deeply as well.
All around them, crickets and frogs chirruped a nighttime symphony. The gentle chorus, the trickle of the brook, the familiar scent of wet earth – for these few moments by the water, they could almost have been any two weary travelers resting on a long journey. Not a renegade soul-reaper and a heaven-touched girl fleeing the wrath of Hell.
Elise gazed at the Coinbearer as he recapped the flask. His masked face was turned slightly away, profile outlined by moonlight. The ordeal he'd endured – giving up a cherished memory, breaking his infernal chains – weighed on her heart. She wondered which memory he had lost to the Librarian. A sunlit valley and a woman's laughter, the Librarian had said. Elise thought of the tenderness she'd seen in his eyes after she forgave him, and she thought she understood: he had given up a piece of his past love to protect her future. The magnitude of that sacrifice left her breathless.
When they resumed walking, the Coinbearer's limp was less pronounced. The brief rest, the cool water, and perhaps simply the newfound freedom from Hell's burden had helped him regain some strength. Elise too felt a second wind of sorts – a delicate, hopeful energy carrying her forward despite the fatigue weighing on her bones. Dawn was still hours away, but she doubted either of them would dare sleep this night. Not with Hell's hunters possibly scouring the dark behind them.
They kept to the wilds, avoiding the dirt road that occasionally wound through the valley below. The open fields they skirted were cold and damp with dew that soaked their boots, but neither complained. Every step carried them farther from the Archive and the Hellish forces that would soon close in on where they'd been.
Under a sky full of faint stars, they walked in silence for a long stretch. Elise clutched the folded page with the shrine sketch like a talisman. At last, she mustered the courage to break the quiet. There was something she needed to address before the new day dawned.
She glanced at the Coinbearer, who walked beside her steadily now, his posture more relaxed than she'd ever seen it. His eyes, hidden behind the mask's sockets, were turned forward, scanning the dark trees for any sign of threat, but his guard was gently lowered in this peaceful interlude.
Elise felt words gathering like a swell in her chest. "Coinbearer," she began softly, her breath visible as a faint mist in the chill. "I need to say this while I have the chance."
He looked down at her questioningly. In the faint starlight, he was a silhouette – the dark outline of the man who had saved her more than once and irrevocably changed the course of her life.
She took a steadying breath. "I forgive you… for my father."
The Coinbearer halted, clearly taken aback. The dawn breeze stirred his cloak around him with a soft whisper. Elise stopped too, turning to face him fully under the paling night sky.
"I think I've known in my heart for a while now," Elise continued, voice low and earnest, "that you were never truly my enemy. That night, years ago… you were doing your duty. A terrible duty, but not out of malice. And since then, you've shown me compassion, bravery, and sacrifice. You defied Hell itself to save me, a stranger. You've paid dearly for it, too." Her voice quavered, and she swallowed the lump threatening to choke it.
"My father's death hurt more than anything ever has," she managed, tears shining in her eyes. "But I know he wouldn't want me to carry hatred forever. And I see the good man you are, behind that mask."
For a long moment, the Coinbearer was silent. When he finally spoke, his tone was subdued, almost vulnerable. "Elise… I do not deserve your forgiveness," he said, each word heavy with decades of remorse. "Yet I am… grateful for it."
He hesitated, then continued in a soft murmur, "I offered a coin to those that fate was tangled, I took your father life as hell asked for it."
Elise's tears overflowed now. She stepped closer to him and, on an impulse, gently took the Coinbearer's hand in both of hers. "It wasn't all for nothing," she whispered. "We're here now..."
The Coinbearer bowed his head, the admission heavy on his shoulders.
"For years I believed my hands were stained with innocent blood, that I was beyond redemption—beyond hope."
He lifted his gaze, resolve hardening in his eyes.
"I was a monster—and as a monster, I will be hunted. I… I stand here only because of a coin, Elise. You might think I'm some kind of hero, but I'm not; my duty is to remain loyal to the coin's verdict."
Elise tears spilling freely now. "And yet you've given me protection, guidance… a chance to discover who I truly am," she replied, her voice trembling with emotion.
They stood like that for a timeless moment: a disgraced reaper of Hell and a girl touched by a grace, two souls finding solace in each other at the edge of dawn. Elise closed her eyes.
At length, a soft cough broke the silence – a dry rasp from somewhere near the ground. The cloak, apparently deciding things were getting too sentimental, gave a little flutter. "Hate to interrupt," it said, not sounding sorry at all to interrupt, "but dawn isn't exactly the best time for fugitives to be standing in the open having a heart-to-heart, mm?"
A startled laugh burst from Elise, and even the Coinbearer let out a quiet huff that might have been the shadow of a chuckle. They separated, both suddenly aware of the brightening sky to the east. The stars were fast fading into a pale glow. Morning was approaching, and with it the renewed danger of discovery.
Elise brushed the tears from her cheeks and squeezed the Coinbearer's hand. He gave her a tiny nod – understanding, appreciation, and promise all conveyed in that simple dip of his head.
Side by side, they began walking again, leaving behind footprints of a new understanding in the dew-kissed grass. The road ahead was still dark and uncertain, with enemies pursuing from behind and unknown trials looming ahead. But as they crested a small hill, they saw the first sliver of the sun peek over the horizon, painting the sky in hues of rose and gold. One brilliant morning star still twinkled above, refusing to be dimmed by daylight until the last possible moment. To Elise, it looked as if that lone star shone directly over the distant mountains – over the path they were meant to follow.
The Coinbearer and Elise pressed onward toward the east, toward the mysterious shrine in the Aurin Peaks that seemed to beckon in her book and in both their hearts. And far above, that single star – perhaps a seed of starfire – gleamed brightly in the brightening sky, as if heralding the next chapter of their fate.
His gloved hand hovers over his pocket, where the coin lies hidden and in that stillness he feels it pulse, a frantic heartbeat pressed against cloth. No words escape him, but the sharp, thudding tremor speaks volumes: he has not only shattered Hell's contract, he has set something ancient stirring within the coin itself.