The white faded slowly.
It drained away from the edges first, like light leaving a room at sunset, until Jin could see the sky again. Then the snow. Then the broken stones and the craters of glassy black rock. And then, at his feet, Pride.
Lucy was lying on his back at the bottom of the crater.
The wings of light were gone. The burning glow on his skin had faded to a faint, warm gold. His horns were still there, but they were cracked now, long thin fractures running through the black glass of them, and small flakes were breaking away and drifting off into the air like ash.
Across his chest, from both shoulders to both hips, was a great glowing X.
It wasn't bleeding. It was shining. Soft white light poured slowly out of it, and wherever it touched him, he was coming apart. Not falling to pieces. Fading. Like a drawing being gently rubbed away.
