A STORY JUST FOR ME

A month had passed since the mission in Sector S-11.

And peace, if it could be called that, returned to the city.

Mireya had been busy.

Too many promotions. Too many meetings.

So you worked alone.

Delivering parcels. Cleaning stations. Fixing drone wiring.

Trying to feel like the boy the world thought you were.

That's when you heard it.

Two women bent over laundry in the northern garden, their voices low but sharp as broken glass.

"The Arkenna girl was seen again. Same spot, same time."

"With that creature? "

"They say he has teeth like steel and a tail like a shadow."

"And she's still sneaking out. Can you imagine? "

You didn't react.

But later that evening… you watched her window.

You followed her.

Soft steps over quiet rooftops.

You saw her meet him—in the ruins of an old clocktower behind the eastern wall.

She touched his face.

He flinched at first, then leaned into her hand.

She called him Mael.

And when she turned to you, startled by your presence, she didn't run.

"You followed me," she said calmly.

"Why?"

"I heard stories," you replied. "I wanted to know the truth."

Mael stood, cautious but not angry.

Even when he stepped forward, the moonlight didn't fully reveal him.

He wore a tattered cloak and a scarf over half his face.

His eyes, though—they were human.

Tired. Hopeful. Scared.

"We're leaving," Neris said. "Three days from now.

There's a boat that travels at dawn—through the west canal.

If we reach it, we're gone."

Gone from the chains of noble bloodlines.

Gone from the cage of arranged marriages.

Gone from the city that hunted Mael like a beast.

"Will you help us? " she asked.

You nodded.

Two days later, you delivered supplies to the city's upper quarters.

That's where you met him—Varn.

The man who would marry Neris.

He smiled at you. Spoke kindly. Took the crate from your hands with care.

Until something fell from your satchel.

A silk ribbon—pale rose, frayed at the edge. The one Neris used to tie her hair.

You'd forgotten she tucked it there.

Varn picked it up slowly.

"You know," he said gently, "she used to wear this at our engagement banquets."

He folded it in his palm.

"You should be careful where you walk, boy.

You never know who's watching."

Then he turned and left.

You didn't know it then…

But you had just become the final nail in someone's heart.

The plan was perfect.

Neris wore plain clothes.

Mael had wrapped himself in a cloak soaked in mud and ash—to hide his scent.

You guided them through the market tunnels.

Avoided all guards. Took every left turn like it was a prayer.

And when the gate appeared…

"We're almost there," she whispered, laughing. "We're really—"

Searchlights. Sirens.

Mael roared.

Neris screamed.

Soldiers poured from the rooftops.

The two were dragged down before they could reach the boat.

You were tackled. Held down. You shouted.

Tried to fight. Tried to explain.

And then—

A shadow stepped through the chaos.

Quincy.

His eyes were tired.

"Little wanderer," he said softly. "This isn't your moment."

You reached toward Neris, screaming her name.

But he caught you.

The lights flashed.

The boots thundered.

And in the chaos, in the blood—

You couldn't move.

Now, the soldiers raised their weapons.

Gunshots cracked.

Mael's mouth bled. His arm was twisted.

But he only looked at her.

And she only looked at him.

In her final moment, Neris pulled away from the guards.

Ran to Mael—crawling and bleeding—and wrapped her arms around him.

She whispered in his ear.

No one heard it.

No one but you.

"Until the end of this life and into the next"

And then she did it.

From her sleeve—a hidden blade.

She plunged it into her chest—just above the heart.

Behind the closed eyelids, a memory stirred.

She was ten when she realized her father only smiled in front of other men.

He gave her dresses, jewels, and tutors—but never time.

"Be pretty."

"Be quiet."

"Be what I need you to be."

And she was.

Even when he made her sit beside new guests each week,

Even when he told her to laugh at things she didn't understand,

Even when he said.

"Marry Varn. He'll keep us in the Circle."

She stopped believing love was real.

Until one night, three years ago —

She wandered through a hallway she'd never entered before.

Behind a locked steel door…

A boy in chains. Filthy. Quiet. Half-starved.

But when he saw her…

He didn't beg.

He just whispered:

"Are you afraid of me? "

She shook her head.

And returned.

Again.

And again.

And again.

Each visit, she brought food.

A stolen book.

A broken radio she taught him to use.

And each time, her voice shook less.

Her heart, more sure.

Until one night, curled in the dark beside his cell, she asked,

"If this isn't love…

Then what is it? "

Gasps.

Blood.

Her head fell against his shoulder.

He screamed.

Not like a monster.

Like a boy who just lost the only person who ever called him human.

You screamed.

You tried to run—but too late.

A strong arm grabbed your chest.

A hand pressed over your eyes.

"Don't look."

Quincy.

His voice shook.

"You'll remember this enough just from the sound."

A second shot rang out.

Mael's body fell.

Both fell.

Together.

Quincy still held you.

Even after the silence came.

Even after the sirens faded.

"Some stories end like this," he whispered.

"You'll want to rewrite it in your memory. You'll want to give them wings.

But they didn't get wings, little wanderer.

They got a bullet and a goodbye."