Freedom At Last

The collapse stopped not with a crash, but with silence. The sound of stone grinding and tearing gave way to stillness, and in that stillness, I realized we were standing outside.

The prison, our prison, towered behind us like a monument to eternity. It was not a fortress so much as a world turned inside out. Jagged walls spiraled into the sky, stitched together by cracks of light that still pulsed faintly, as if the place itself was alive and wounded. From a distance, it might have seemed eternal, immovable. But up close, I could see how thin it really was, how brittle. The stones were worn smooth by time, as though countless hands had pressed against them, trying and failing to escape.

Above us stretched a sky unlike anything I had ever known. It wasn’t Aeris’s world, not yet, but it wasn’t mine either. Clouds drifted in shades of silver and violet, and the sun here, if that was a sun, burned with a pale, golden fire. It hurt to look at, not from brightness but from truth, as if it knew everything we had confessed and stripped us bare.

Aeris stepped ahead of me, her long hair catching the light. For the first time since I’d met her, she didn’t carry herself like a prisoner. She was refined. There was no shadow on her shoulders. Her bracelet was gone, but more than that, the way she stood told me she had unshackled herself in ways that no chain could capture. She turned back slightly, as if to make sure I was still behind her.

“I never thought I’d see it,” she whispered. “The world as it truly is, outside the veil that covers that place.”

I didn’t answer right away. My eyes were fixed on the horizon where the prison’s shadow ended. Beyond its stretched fields I didn’t recognize, forests of silver-leaved trees, rivers that reflected the golden fire above like broken glass. It was overwhelming, dizzying. But it was real.

We walked, not because there was anywhere to go, but because standing still felt wrong. Each step crunched softly against the crystalline dust that blanketed the ground, leaving trails that shimmered before fading back into nothing. The air was cool and sharp, each breath filling me with something I hadn’t realized I’d forgotten: the sense of possibility.

For a long time, neither of us spoke. There was no need to. Our footsteps through the lush grass and the hum of the world were enough.

Eventually, I broke the silence. “Do you think… this was all it was ever about? Forcing us to, see?”

Aeris held her cloth close to her chest, the one she had carried like a secret all this time. She smiled, but it was the kind of smile that came after tears, fragile but firm. “I don’t know. But if so… then maybe it wasn’t only punishment. Maybe it was mercy too.”

The word lingered. Mercy. Could I call it that? The prison had dragged me here, bound me in twisting hallways, dreams that looped without me knowing, shown me everything I wanted to forget. But… without it, I would still be drifting, wouldn’t I? Truly slothful. Still blind.

We reached a rise in the earth where the prison’s shadow finally broke, giving way to an open expanse. From here, the entire structure loomed behind us: a labyrinth of shifting walls and hollow corridors. The statues we had faced still stood at its crown, their eyes dim now, like embers dying in the dark. And for the first time, I didn’t see them as wardens. I saw them as watchers. Silent guardians who had done their part.

I remembered the mirror then, the cracks spiderwebbing across its surface, reflecting a boy I barely recognized. I thought it had only been glass. But looking at the prison from this vantage, I realized it had always been a mirror. Every wall we scrubbed clean, every shadow we faced, every loop that dragged me back, it was all reflection, meant to show us what we refused to see in ourselves.

I chuckled softly. “Kind of funny. All that time, I thought cleaning floors was just… humiliating busywork.”

Aeris tilted her head, a small smile tugging at her lips, I can already see that teacher brain of hers trying to turn this into a lesson I’ll never forget. “And now?”

“Now?” I shrugged, the laugh escaping fuller this time. “Guess I learned I don’t hate scrubbing things after all.”

Her laugh joined mine, light, like wind brushing across still water. And for a fleeting moment, it was just us, two voices echoing in a world finally quiet.

At the far end of the rise stood a gate. Unlike the prison, it was simple: wrought iron bound with silver filigree, tall enough to scrape the low clouds. It didn’t shine or shift. It just waited.

I knew without asking that it was the way forward. Or maybe the way back.

We didn’t go to it right away. Instead, we lingered. Aeris bent down and brushed her fingers across the ground, whispering a word I didn’t know. A trail of pale blue light followed her touch, curling into the shape of a flower I had never seen before, its petals translucent, glowing faintly like captured starlight. She plucked it and held it out to me.

I blinked. “That’s… magic?”

“Mm.” She tilted her head, amused at my awe. “Just a small trick. But I thought, if we’re going our separate ways… maybe you should take something beautiful with you.”

I held the flower gently, afraid it might break. “Wow,” I muttered, shaking my head. “You’re full of surprises, you know that?”

She smirked. “You only just figured that out?”

We fell into easy chatter after that. I teased her about always being the knowledgeable one and yet never being able to leave on her own, she teased me for finally deciding to stand up straight and not hide behind excuses. We even joked about the bread I always used to worship, in another life, she could have been a teacher and I her worst student. It was light, and it was fun, and it was everything the prison had tried to strip away from us.

But beneath it, I could feel the weight pressing in. Every laugh felt like one step closer to silence. Every glance toward the gate made my chest tighter.

At last, Aeris looked at it, her voice softer now. “This is where we say our goodbyes.”

She spoke like this was truly the end. Part of me refused to believe it. “After all this? You’re telling me I don’t even get to finish The Epic of Zinc?”

Her laugh wavered, but it was real. “You’ll just have to write your own ending.”

The words struck deeper than I expected. I’d always known the prison wasn’t forever but hearing it out loud made it real. My throat tightened.

“Yeah,” I managed. My voice cracked, so I tried again. “Yeah… I guess it is.” Part of me was scared of if I was going to be stuck here or returned home, but if given a choice I know what I’ll choose.

We stood shoulder to shoulder, looking at the gate. Neither of us moved. Neither of us wanted to. The world around us seemed to hum in rhythm with our hesitation, the breeze brushing against our skin with the gentleness of a farewell.

It would have been easy to take the step forward. Easier still to turn back. But to stay here, in this moment, where neither of us had to say goodbye, that was the hardest thing of all.

I thought of the countless days I’d wasted before, the people I’d failed, the name I hadn’t earned. And I thought of Aeris, of her steady presence through these endless halls, of the lie she had finally torn away. We had carried each other through this place. And now, we had to let go.

She lifted the cloth one last time, letting it ripple in the golden air. “They’ll be remembered,” she murmured. “Because we were here. Because we chose to see them. Because we won’t forget.”

I nodded. Words felt small, but I forced them out anyway. “Then… let’s not waste what they gave us.”

Side by side, we walked. Slowly. Step by step. Until the gate loomed over us, vast and unyielding. The moment we crossed it, I knew, everything would change.

And still, when we reached it, we didn’t hesitate.

Together, we placed our hands on the cold iron.

The gate opened with a sound like the world inhaling.

And in that breath, the prison’s voice followed us one last time, quiet but eternal, echoing in the marrow of our bones

“You have been judged and deemed innocent by showcasing you’re no longer the same people we convicted. We hope you enjoy all that lies ahead.”