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The demon moved fast-- far faster than Rumi had expected. Even in her younger days, it would’ve been difficult for her to keep up, and she was far too aware of the fact that her reflexes were a far cry from what they had been ten years ago. No matter, she thought.
Her eyes narrowed.
The demon dashed at her.
Rumi swung her sword, the blade flashing through the rain like a bolt of lightning.
Her foe ducked, and the sword flew harmlessly over its head.
There was a thunder of blood.
Rumi coughed.
Her sword clattered to the ground. A burning pain tore through her side. She looked down in disbelief, seeing the claws buried somewhere under her ribs.
The demon ripped its hand free, taking a chunk of flesh along with it. Rumi gasped, her vision spinning. From somewhere to her right, she heard someone call her name.
“Rumi!?”
Zoey’s voice echoed through her mind.
She staggered back, knees nearly giving out. Her hands instinctively went to her side. She felt ragged flesh and her palms came away slick with something that wasn’t rain.
The demon burst into a cloud of pink, Mira now standing where it had been a moment ago. Rumi opened her mouth to say something, anything, but the words wouldn’t come. She coughed again, swaying like a sapling caught in a rainstorm.
“It…. hurts,” she stammered at last. With that, she pitched forward. Mira caught her as she was about halfway to the ground, carefully lowering her the rest of the way.
“I got you, I got you, don’t worry,” she said. Rumi blinked, her eyes staring into Mira’s concerned face. “T-thank you,” she rasped. The words sent a flash of pain through her.
Her eyes lowered to the source.
A dark bloom was spreading across her shirt, mingling with the rain on the rain on the wet ground. She looked up again. Mira was shouting something to Zoey, but she couldn’t tell what it was. Her ears were filled with the roar of waves crashing, and she became aware of just how exhausted she felt. Maybe a nap would help.
Yes, that was it. I just need a bit of sleep. The thoughts bounced around idly in her head.
Her eyes began closing.
Just a brief nap--
White-hot pain brought her back to reality.
Zoey had taken off her jacket and was pressing the shredded remains on her wound. Mira moved over to help.
Rumi grimaced.
Sharp, stabbing pain radiated through her as Zoey continued to apply pressure, but it soon faded to just a warm, dull ache.
Suddenly, a thought struck her.
The rain had stopped.
Rumi tipped her head back. The sky was painted a deep, rich blue, the lights blurring and smearing and spiraling like the Starry Night .
Rumi smiled.
Her eyes closed.
She couldn’t have asked for a better last sight.
“The stars are beautiful, aren’t they?” she murmured. Mira’s voice, cracked and waterlogged, responded, “Yes, yes they are,” but Rumi didn’t hear her.
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Zoey cursed.
Rumi’s eyes had slid shut again, and she could feel her hand getting colder and colder. She waved for Mira to keep pressing the jacket on her side and brought her other hand to Rumi’s wrist to check for a pulse.
Nothing . Shit.
Fumbling, she pressed her fingers to Rumi’s neck. No joy.
A sob built up in her throat. She glanced up at Mira and back down again, and her eyes widened.
Rumi’s body was slowly dissolving. She kept crumbling until the two were left embracing nothing but pink dust.
Soon enough, the wind took that too, leaving nothing behind but ashes in the breeze.