My sweetest friend

REMI wish that we could go back in time, i'd be the one you thought you'd find Remi flew. He flew high into the dark night, though even his hawk-eyes hardly helped the light was so poor out here. Perhaps that would help, if he could see the soft glow of red that would mark Isla. Perhaps it would just get him killed all the faster, it hardly mattered. Call it shock, call it the recklessness and every other word Jigano had ever accused him of. Remi didn't care. He couldn't take the thought that Isla was gone. Not after everything. Not after his feelings coming back, not after Celosia dying, of Zero dying ... Vanya, and the arrival of Aoife. Not with what had happened with Sam and how his lack of trust in the alchemist had broken something fundamental inside of him. How the bookmaker had gone, and now Isla was dead and something dark wanted very badly to connect those two things. And so he flew. And flew. And flew.