He had to start somewhere.
Desmond decided to start in the area where she had been taken. He had lost hours, if they had wanted to, Abigail could now be anywhere in the world, as he had said.
But it was also possible that she had been taken to one of those secret facilities they had all over the kingdom.
The nearest facility.
It probably wouldn't lead him to anything, but it wasn't a bad starting point, he judged.
Desmond shifted his stance, preparing to break into a run.
He couldn't match the speed of a moving train, that much was more than clear. But he was fast. Very fast. It would have to be fast enough.
As he had said, time was on his side.
Abigail wouldn't die. No matter what they did to her, she wouldn't die. He was the only person who could kill her.
He, the person who wanted to keep her alive no matter what.
Bottom line, he couldn't possibly be too late to save her. No matter how long it would take him to find her or how many times he would fail to rescue her. It was a possibility, even if he didn't want to think about it. Like so many other things.
But he didn't want her to suffer.
That couldn't be helped. What he could do was get there as soon as possible, to minimize the time she had to suffer at their hands.
Desmond took a deep breath. He grabbed his doubts and discarded them like the trash they were.
He would never look back. That time had been the last time.
Desmond knew this was the right thing to do. He knew that he would never forgive himself in life if he didn't do it. That he couldn't bear to live knowing that Abigail was suffering.
Unable to depend on the forces of the kingdom he had bled to protect, this was the only option.
At that moment...
"Desmond."
His heart leapt into his throat. It's her, it's her, she's talking to me again. That was the first thing he thought.
The excitement was short"lived. Desmond realized that this was a voice coming from reality and not from inside his own head.
What's more, it was a voice that he shouldn't be able to mistake for that of any other person either.
But, in his desperate state, he guessed that it had been enough that it was a woman's voice to delude himself.
Desmond turned around.
Christina was there. On a platform of moonlight, just as he was. There was a certain melancholy in her expression that hurt him like a stab wound.
It was like...
Like he was seeing a ghost.
"Christina. I... "Desmond fell silent.
He wanted to say a thousand things, but he had no idea how to begin.
"You don't have to say anything. I know what you're about to do," Christina said, her tone surprisingly calm. "I don't like it, but I understand."
I'm sorry.
I should start with a simple sorry, he thought.
Desmond had run away in the middle of the night.
Without a word, without looking back.
As if nothing they'd been through together mattered. But it wasn't that, not remotely. He hadn't said anything, hadn't dared, because he wasn't sure he could walk away having to look them in the eye.
He wasn't sure if he could handle that.
So he had simply walked away.
Tell her that, you idiot! Tell her.
"It's harder, isn't it? The understanding. It would be easier for you if I got angry, if I pushed you, if I yelled at you to get out of my sight. But I'm not going to do any of that, Desmond. Because I love you too much."
Desmond swallowed hard.
He wanted to look away, but he did not.
He forced himself to keep staring at her.
"I just want to tell you one thing," she continued.
She, too, seemed to be straining to hold his gaze. Though not for the same reasons, that was for sure.
"What?" Desmond asked, barely able to speak.
"If you leave now, you're going to ruin everything. You know that, don't you? You'll destroy it with your own hands and there'll be no turning back."
She didn't even need to tell him that.
It was a truth he had told himself countless times, in the lonely darkness of the room.
Just thinking about it had shattered something inside his heart.
So he could only imagine the scale of the devastation once it was truly done, gone forever.
However...
"I love you too. I love you, but..."
He lowered his head.
Because he couldn't take it anymore.
"She needs me. I can't let her suffer alone. I can't just sit back, knowing what she's going through, and go on with my life. As if she doesn't mean anything. I have no choice."
That was the truth.
For better or worse, that was the truth.
Desmond supposed he was nothing more than a leaf in the wind, after all.
He supposed... This had been inevitable from the beginning.
He couldn't have everything he wanted.
But, like an idiot, he had tried. A greedy idiot.
Even though he should have known from the beginning that someday he would have to choose. And who he would choose when the time came, because he couldn't do otherwise.
It simply wasn't in his nature.
Christina approached him slowly. Desmond unconsciously tensed as if whoever was approaching him was an enemy. She reached out a hand toward him.
He wanted to grab her with all his might and never let go.
If only things were so simple that he could afford to do that.
"I'm not talking about me and Amy. I'm talking about you, Desmond, just you. There's nothing good for you at the end of this road. Abigail is a fugitive hunted by everyone. If you choose her, you won't be able to live a normal life."
She was right, of course.
Her every word was absolutely right.
Christina was trying to make him see reason, and if the situation were that simple, she would have succeeded by now.
Unfortunately, that wasn't the point.
Desmond was painfully aware of the inevitable consequences, of the true weight of what he wanted to do. On him, on them. But there was nothing else he could do.
He wasn't trying to make excuses. He really couldn't take any other path.
Abigail was his mother.
It didn't matter that she hadn't literally given birth to him. She was the woman who had given him life. At the end of the day, that was what mattered.
What kind of son would put friends above his mother?
What kind of son could live with that, even if he did?
He would be crushed by guilt.
And by memories, and by dreams of what might have been. But he truly had no choice.
To betray Abigail would be to betray himself.
"Listen to me, I don't have a choice. I wish things were otherwise. But they are the way they are."
He took a deep breath. His chest heaved.
Christina froze.
After a few seconds, she dropped her outstretched hand.
The other she held against her side. Clutching the book.
Because of the thick guilt and sadness, he hadn't noticed that Christina had the book with her. It also had a lot to do with not only his agitated feelings, but he was simply used to seeing her with her book, so it wasn't a detail that drew attention.
Quite the contrary.
Not seeing it would be what would draw her attention.
Christina, as if following his gaze, looked at the book almost as if she didn't know how it had ended up in her hands.
They were less than ten meters apart.
Christina lifted the book. She didn't open it. She didn't have to. At first glance, anyone would think it was a spell book, but all the pages were blank.
"Do you really want to do this? Even if you stop me tonight, I'll leave the next morning. You can't stop me. It's not like I'm doing anything illegal. I can leave whenever I want."
He'd hesitated to say that, in case he was being stupid, jumping to conclusions.
But...
"I'll cross that bridge when I get to it." As if it was nothing, Christina admitted that Desmond was right to fear what he did.
Guess this was unavoidable too.
"Christina, please..." One last try. Desmond had to at least try, even though he was pretty sure it wouldn't work.
He didn't want this to happen.
"I told you. I love you too much. So, if I have to stop you from destroying your life with my own hands, that's what I'll do. You can hate me all you want later."
It was all decided.
Of course she wouldn't back down. Christina's determination wasn't inferior to his. They would both give their all fighting for a person they loved.
They were both the same. From the moment he saw her tonight, he should have figured it would end this way.
Desmond tensed even more.
He shifted his stance, lowering his center of gravity. He didn't draw his sword.
Christina didn't have the same reservations. The shadows around Christina came to life. It was as if the night was preparing to swallow him whole.
Desmond made a decision and acted quickly. In other words, he ran in the opposite direction.
It was to no avail.
A shadow tentacle grabbed him by the ankle. It pulled him, throwing him off balance, causing him to end up on the ground. It began to drag him backwards, through the grass and dirt.
Desmond was hitting his head, not too hard, swallowing dust.
Crap. Trapped.
Desmond drew his sword at last. He buried it in the ground. He intended to stop the dragging, if only for a few seconds, but that didn't help for a single second.
He kept being dragged backwards. Towards her.
The sword moved with him, cutting a line in the dirt.
"Couldn't you make this easier for both of us?" Christina asked.
Desmond turned his head to glance at her.
It was ridiculous how intimidating she was. Intimidating?
Yes, of course.
He was surprised because he'd always been on her side, because he'd never had to worry about her, not in that way.
But Christina had never been less than fucking intimidating.
"You know I don't."
Desmond, without letting go of the sword, tried to sit up as he was dragged away. Clumsily and with great difficulty. One of his legs was trapped. He was doing what he could.
He succeeded. To do so, he had to jump on one leg.
He shouldn't think about how ridiculous it would look. It was the least of it in a situation like this. Still, he couldn't help but think about it.
Christina brought him right up in front of her. He knew when the force exerted on his ankle stopped.
Turning, Desmond swung the sword....
He parried the blow at the last moment. Christina and Desmond exchanged glances. The blade of the sword and the shadows of the night stood between them.
Desmond was thrown away.
He hit a tree.
The force of the impact shattered the tree. Desmond fell to the other side, and the broken half of the tree almost fell directly on him. It came close, but didn't touch him.
Anyway, that had hurt.
That had hurt and quite a bit.
Desmond had had to apply physical reinforcement magic in the air. He hadn't done a perfect job, in that rush, so now his back was burning with pain.
Christina was treating him with less care than he was treating her, as Desmond could regenerate, since he was so much tougher than a normal person.
Either that or she had gotten scared.
Seeing the sword approaching, the girl had instinctively reacted as if he were an enemy, as if it were a blow aimed at taking her life.
And by the time it dawned on her that there was no need to go that far, it had been too late to back out.
In any case, all the better for him.
Now he was free of her grip. Now he had a chance to escape this one.
Christina had made a mistake and he was grateful for it.
Only such a mistake could have saved him.
Were it not for the fact that Abigail was literally impossible to kill, he would say that Christina was the most dangerous person in the kingdom.
Not Jacob or any of the others considered war heroes. Great men and women.
Christina and her shadow magic were at the top.
That's why only a mistake like that could have saved his ass once she had caught him.
Christina was simply too extraordinary.
Fighting back was futile. There was nothing that could stop the shadows' charge for long. Running away was similarly futile.
Not because, in theory, it wasn't a good idea. The sensible thing to do was always to run away from fights you couldn't win.
He was saying this because simply put, even running away was virtually impossible if Christina was after you.
The only chance of running away from her was to be one among many. Escape while she was distracted by killing others. Numbers and luck. But he was fighting alone, so he couldn't count on that.
Killing her was an option to stop her.
As strong as her shadows were, she wasn't stronger than a normal person.
One good blow and it would all be over for her. She wasn't invincible or superhuman.
But it was easier done than said, like so many other things.
Christina could wrap herself in shadow armor. She could create barriers, divide and delay her enemies with the simplicity of a child playing with her toys.
Even if it were otherwise, it would mean nothing to him as he didn't want to touch a single hair on her head.
Killing her, of course, was something he would never do.
But even hurting her to incapacitate her was out of the question.
Bottom line, Christina was no ordinary opponent. The only way he could win this fight was to run away.
If he got out of Christina's range, that is, her field of vision, then he would disappear into the night and he could continue... doing what he had to do.
Desmond slowly got to his feet, as Christina advanced towards him and the split tree in two, book in hand.
This was bad.
He had never thought he would end up fighting Christina.
It wasn't that different from training fights, but, at the same time, it was something completely different.
Painful.
Desmond didn't want this to be like this.
Desmond didn't want this to be the last time they saw each other, talked.
He would have liked to have been able to hold on to the sweet memories of the conversations they had had on the train, and before they went to sleep.
That warmth...
Not this bitterness. Not this cracked glass that would never regain its original form.
Desmond wanted to scream.
But this was the only thing to expect. The world didn't give you what you wanted, only what you were looking for.
And oh, too often those things were so, so different.
"You're doing a crazy thing. Even if going to look for her was a good idea, you don't even know where to start, she could be anywhere. How long do you think it would take you to search the whole world for her on your own? Ten years? And even then you might not find her."
His circumstances weren't that desperate.
She was exaggerating for effect.
Still, he couldn't say she was wrong. Not entirely. If luck wasn't with him, he could spend the rest of his long life searching for Abigail.
That would be terrible.
But staying here wouldn't be a better option.
He had no good options, no, as he had said, he had no options in the first place.
He was a leaf driven by the winds of his heart.
Christina was still approaching. Desmond stepped back. Step she took, step he took, only in the opposite direction.
Desmond was fighting her in the middle of the night.
So, really, the distance between them didn't matter at all, unless it made her lose sight of him.
Still, Desmond instinctively backed away.
As if ordinary logic could apply to an opponent like this.
"But it's not even a good idea. You think you can take care of everything by yourself? If you find Abigail, they'll kill you. Or worse. And... And even if you succeed, even if you rescue her, then you'll have nothing left but her."
They looked into each other's eyes, once again.
"Desmond. Please. Stop..."
Desmond closed his eyes. He was trembling.
For long seconds, he thought Christina had done it after all. That she had been able to beat him.
But no.
Desmond ran, trying to get away again.
This time he was more prepared for what was coming at him.
When a tentacle of darkness went for his leg, like last time, Desmond cut it in two with his sword.
That was, if one could call it that, the closest thing to a weakness Christina had.
Her shadows became physical.
They were incredibly fast, incredibly strong and long lasting. But they became physical, so he could parry her attacks that way.
... Desmond couldn't take this as some kind of victory.
Christina was making things easy for him. She didn't want to fight him any more than he wanted to fight her.
She had sent him, like last time, a single tentacle.
But she could wrap him in dozens of shadows like a huge fish caught in a net.
Desmond wouldn't have the speed to avoid being caught by such an attack. Not for long, anyway.
Such an attack would overwhelm him sooner or later.
It was frightening to think how helpless he would be if Christina were really his enemy. All his power, his technique, his years of effort and dedication, were worthless against her.
It was that simple.
It was that crushing.
It was a reminder of how big the world was.
Of what awaited him following this path.
Desmond would become the enemy of the world, just like Abigail. A price sought by all...
But at least he would have her, and that....
More shadows came for him.
Focus.
Desmond struggled to repel the shadows coming to attack him, as he continued to run towards the train tracks.