Fires were the least of his concern, and neither were any attacks that most others were concerned with. He was afraid of rejection, as he always had been. Afraid of the one thing that all humans needed in order to grow and shape; life was surely cursed for him from the beginning.

How could it not be? A priest in a castle wasn't supposed to get rejected, was he? They were supposed to be praised and repeated, and all complaints were to be completely ignored. So when it came to things he could be rejected during, a panging fear always forced him several steps behind.

"Alena?" That was how he always began a serious conversation. It was terribly strange and generic, but he was terribly unoriginal.

"Yes?" Red and gold eyes, the colors of strength and power would always glimmer and stare up at his tall, lean frame. Curly red hair peeked out from beneath her curious hat and would wink and taunt him during his time of absolute discomfort.

"I was…" That was where he always lost his voice and comfort. Deep down, he wanted to kiss and hug and show how much he loved her. But the fear of rejection…it always petrified him. No magic or prayer to the Goddess would right his fears. For years, he had been hoping that, but with no avail. "Never mind."

Either then or a few more words in, a random party member would invade their personal conversation. It was as though his curse was not only limited to fear, but to cowardice. Never did he speak up and try to reschedule their conversation. Rather, he would drop it and back off instantly.

Typically it was Solo or Borya, trying to invade upon the two's moment of peace. It made sense, at least. Everyone wanted Alena on his or her team, and everyone wanted to talk with the princess of Zamoksva. Who wouldn't? She was beautiful and strong, and technically the unconditional ruler of the Russian-based kingdom.

Once their conversation were interrupted, Kiryl would go off and battle alone, aspiring to be powerful and great like Solo. As was the standard rule of adventure, no woman gave a second glance at the pure-hearted white magician like him. The hero was always the center of attention.

Truthfully, the only one he could possibly confide in was that French fortune-teller Meena, but even she wasn't the best. What he really wanted to do was confide in the woman he loved, but there was no way to do that without ultimately risking rejection.

"Maybe I just need some male feedback," After his brief meeting with Meena for the day, he considered that. "Maybe a male friend would tell me more of what to do. Women always say to just be patient."

After a logical thinking process, Kiryl determined that Torneko would be the best bet, for he was married with a beloved child, meaning that he knew a thing or two about how to get into a successful relationship. Besides, most of the time Torneko was left behind.

That was the last time he would ever accept help from someone in the party.

Truthfully, the talk hadn't been too bad, but it had been...awkward.

"Torneko...I mean, Mr. Taloon?" He had smiled reluctantly as he had peeked into the wagon that the rest of them had been left behind in while the four lucky ones got to go adventure in a cave that was supposedly too narrow to drag a wagon through. "Can I talk to you about something?"

Purple eyebrows shot up to hide behind shaggy, uncut matching hair that somehow formed a very nice hairline on the underdressed, sloppy middle-aged man. "What is it, kiddo? Something the matter?"

"Yeah, I guess. Mind if I talk to you?"

"Absolutely. Come on it. What is it, boy?" His jolly demeanor was actually what Kiryl needed most at this point. "Would you care for some smoked meat, Kiryl?" A greasy hand handed a leg of meat, but Kiryl lifted a hand to respectfully decline.

"It's..." Kiryl lifted himself into the back of the wagon, undoing the belt that kept the sheath for his weapon of choice, a lance, at his back. If he wasn't needed, there was no need to be geared up. The armor could stay; he at least needed to be halfway prepared. "I'm having some...troubles. With—"

"With Alena, right?" A shy smile formed his facial expression, eyes a gentle glow.

"Yes! How did—"

"Kiryl. You obviously love the woman. Every time those Float-O-Copier bastards turns into her, you can't bear to fight full force. Everyone can see it. Why don't you just tell her?"

Bile rose in his throat as he quickly paled, then swallowed the hard acid clump before speaking another word. "I am...frightened. I want her to find out on her own. And I will do whatever it takes."

"You're willing to follow that one girl forever just to see if he likes you back? Kid, you've got your whole life ahead of you. Why not look for companionship elsewhere? Meena and Maya are open, y'know? Why tie yourself down that way?"

"I love her, Torneko!" His face flushed with unabated, raw humiliation at his own words. As he lowered his head in an attempt to feebly masquerade as fine, he felt the elder's stare on him. "Stop looking at me. I...I hate it. I love Alena, but she doesn't get it. I asked you because you've married and have a kid. I will follow her anywhere. I love her that much."

"Well, something isn't attracting her. If you find out that bit out, the girl'll be in love with you." All of a sudden, Torneko seemed much more faithful in Kiryl's decision.

At least the merchant gave him some sort of helpful advice. Granted, Kiryl was quite grateful that Torneko had given him the time of day, but that didn't mean that the priest had obtained virtually any knowledge during that time.

Before Torneko could possibly dissuade Kiryl or try to dishearten him from finding the pearly key to Alena's heart, the young priest crept out of the wagon, consciously forgetting his lance. If he was just going to think, he needed no artillery.

The region they were in was infested with horrifying demons, but the man figured his magic would suffice. While the 'fighting' team had gone off in search of some legendary armor, the remainders were left around Rosetown, a quiet establishment with few denizens and even fewer humans. Why Solo had thought this was a good place to hang around and regroup was beyond Kiryl, but so was everything about this quest.

"Before, it was just Alena trying to prove that she could live away from the castle. Then it became a quest to save everyone else, like Anastasia in Taborov and Anya in Vrenor. Then it was a test of Alena's courage to get the Birdsong Nectar for her father." Slowly, Kiryl began softly whispering the details of his quest alongside the princess and her tutor. There was no one around; he may as well. "We saved him, and he let us go to Endor. She won the tournament there, and then everyone was gone when we came back. We just lost accomplices. She lost her family, her friends…everyone. It's no wonder she wanted to leave so shortly after.

"Then we got on that boat, and I got sick. Who was there to risk her life to save me? She was. She ran off in search of an extinct drug. For me. All I've done is heal her wounds. When have I risked my life for her? Maybe that's what I need to do!" Never before had he felt so exhilarated and fresh.

That being said, what was he supposed to do about that? From a young age, he had cared more about saving others. "I could never think of being a stronger fighter than I already am. My power comes from the feeling of helping save lives, not from hatred or a false of security because of some lucky shots."

The past returned to him in a flurry-induced monsoon of past attempts to win her over, and the fear that perhaps she thought him to be a stalker of sorts. Everything he had done had been out of love, but she didn't seem to see that soft, kind, persistent side of him.

Winds blew in the distance, tousling his clothing and making itself out to be quite the nuisance, fitting as the Goddess may have thought it to be. The thought of Alena and her frizzed, curled hair that shone in the sunlight as well as when it was bathed in the moonlight; her gentle yet fierce smile that stretched her pale pink lips, and the calm, serene look in her eyes when there was no battle to be had; it was still not enough for his mind to back off from with the knowledge that there was no way he would ever win her over. The sole idea stuck in the very back of his mind like a dull roar; how could such a tiny opinion slash through and decimate all the hope he had had before?

"Is it really just me?" What was he thinking? Of course it was all his fault.

Unless…

"She risked her life to save me, but no more. Now she fights just fort he adrenaline the war gives her." His young thoughts cycled and churned around that one idea. "But why? She fought in a tournament dedicated entirely to battle before, and the disappearance of her father had done nothing except for bring her closer to myself and Borya. Why else would she have changed so much?"

Only one thing fit the bill. Her encounter with Solo and the others. Nothing else had appeared to make her so strange.

"Borya said she was astounded with Solo and his comrades' overbearing strength. Maya and Meena are powerful magicians, but they don't seem to catch her eye. Could Solo really have…"

Disgusted with the idea, Kiryl couldn't even bring himself to say what the concept was. Had Solo really…stolen Alena from him without even trying? It made sense, but…

No. He wouldn't believe it. Couldn't believe it. He had gone through all too much to be told that all of his love notes and sketches and worries had been in vain.

"There's just no way. How could Solo…" His head spun too fast; no thoughts were clear enough to be picked out. "How could he take her away from me if everyone supposedly knows I like her?"

The footsteps that could be classified as a stomping followed soon after, rage and jealousy filling him, making him ever closer to his personal breaking point.

Grasses swept past his battle-worn and faded leather boots, adding to the collection of grass stains that occupied that space and his pants. Each step echoed in his mind as he clenched is fists and narrowed his typically calm, wide eyes.

Rough, uneven footsteps shook the ground, though he at first valued them as his own. "I must just be hallucinating…" Was his first thought, thinking nothing could top his rage directed at Solo and even himself for not recognizing and terminating the problem quicker.

A few seconds more passed before the footsteps became louder and more prominent than Kiryl cold mindlessly file away as nothing. Not just that, but…

"They don't match my own…" His voice shook and cracked, hairs on the back of his neck prickling and standing up on end as he frantically searched for the weapon he always carried, only to recall that he had left it behind, thinking he wouldn't need it. "Of course. Absolutely. The one time I'm…"

Flames erupted beneath his feet, catching on his cloth garb and climbing about his limbs. Kiryl quickly jumped back and doused the flames by frantically patting himself, earning painful burns on his hands and body.

He didn't know quite what this thing was, but it had scales and horns and looked like an olden painting of Estark himself. These monsters were undeniably difficult even with the remainder of the party, and he being alone without any new armor or even his weapon didn't help. How in Zenithia did he expect to succeed?

Sharp, hardened claws scratched at his iron armor, the screaming sound hitting his ears with insane strength.

He couldn't win this.

Desperate for an attack, Kiryl folded his hands into fists and threw a punch at the enemy. Wind flew past him as his body stumbled forward, missing his target entirely.

Claws raked over him again, releasing blood from his veins and leaving long, deep marks in his armor. He couldn't win this battle; there was just no foreseeable way.

No. He couldn't just accept death. Before, when he had been with Alena and Borya alone, he had fought without proper equipment and had wrecked their enemies. Why was he so weak now? Solely because of a possible threat to his love life?

The creature stared him down, and Kiryl felt an onslaught of pure emotion slipping into his bloodstream. Some fought for justice or peace or even glory, but he would never do that. Power came from love for him, and he would protect his life with that.

Eyes narrowed and heart racing about three times its normal speed, he felt dark power overtake him. He had hoped that he could be an example to all the priests in the world, for Kiryl had seen many a priest be bogged down by selfish desires. But this power…it was phenomenal.

"Whack!" Kiryl yelled, and dark mist wrapped around the foe, a hand composed of deep indigo light form from the mist and hit the enemy, inducing its demise.

"I did it…" He whispered, blinking and feeling sheer joy overtake him. "I killed a monster on my own! Just like that!" Before another creature of evil could appear, the young priest healed himself fully.

"Solo needed help from Maya and Meena to kill even low-level monsters. A real hero shouldn't need to do that! I supported two other people when we were all weak, too!" Maybe it was overconfidence talking because he had defeated such a fiend, but it felt good!

"Why was I so afraid of being out front? I'm just as strong as Solo! Maybe even more powerful!"

All of those years of helping others and being afraid to fight…had they been for naught? Would being direct and living to love Alena and defeat enemies have been better? Kiryl had always considered being good and pure to be stronger, but maybe the tales of good defeating evil had been spoken and recorded slanted, so everyone would try to be good and then fall defeated.

"I need to show Solo I'm still more powerful. I can show him I'm the most powerful man on this team. Heroes…we're all heroes. Just because our families weren't killed doesn't mean we're not heroes. We were chosen to survive Psaro's attack on Zamoksva and the rest of the world. What makes him so special?" As he spoke, he traversed closer to Rosetown to purchase more equipment. Though Solo did a fair job or ensuring that they all got the newest armor and weapons, it was often that he would solely buy for the members scheduled to go on the actual adventure. In this case, since he wasn't invited to excavate or explore the unknown caverns, his needs had been overlooked.