The sky was such a marvelous blue in the human world. It was so unlike the violent, perpetually stormy red sky in the Barian World. Durbe watched as the scattered, fluffy white clouds drifted lazily by. Cumulus clouds, they were called.

"They look weightless," he said. "But they can weigh up to a billion kilograms."

He glanced behind him, where his fellow Barian lord stood with his arms crossed, gazing at him concernedly.

"It's fascinating, isn't it?" Durbe went on, turning back to the city. "How they can just stay up there? The water is less dense than the air."

"Durbe."

Durbe closed his eyes at the gentle touch on his shoulder. "It was true, then, all of it."

"It seems so."

"Alit and Gilag are gone."

"They accepted it and moved on."

Misael's hand left Durbe's shoulder as he sat next to Durbe on the edge of the roof. The last time they had been here, neither was willing to accept the truth. That they had been humans in a life before. That their lives had ended in tragedy and regret and that they had been reborn as Barians, as creatures in another world that they didn't truly understand.

It was impossible to deny, now. Their existence hinged on one of two choices: let go of their regrets and be freed from this life, or continue to hold on to their pasts and be trapped in this world, in a constant fear of everything they had fought for crumbling around them.

"We can't do this alone," Durbe whispered. "Without Alit and Gilag… we can't save our world."

Misael knew it was true. Alit and Gilag had chosen the first path, whittling their numbers to five lords. Vector was erratic and unpredictable. Nasch and Merag were too tied to the human world, to their lives as human twins, and to Yuma and Astral. He wondered if they would be capable of letting go of that.

No, he and Durbe were beyond help now.

"Misael."

"Yes?"

"Where will our spirits go next? Is there even a place for them to go?"

Durbe was looking at Misael now, his normally calm and contemplative eyes filled with a peculiar sense of hopelessness, despair. He was scared of living on as a Barian, knowing that his fate could be devastating as he watched the only world he had known for so long fall to pieces around him. That was understandable. Misael was too.

"I don't know the answer to that, Durbe."

"Do you want there to be?"

Misael looked away from Durbe's eyes, his gaze sweeping across Durbe's body. For such a calculating leader, his human body looked so frail, so young. It was almost hard to believe that this small human was once a legendary knight.

But his spirit was the strongest one Misael had ever encountered.

"Part of me doesn't. Part of me wants to let go of this, and stop existing. Then nothing will hurt anymore. The pain of being betrayed. The pain of losing people I care about. The uncertainty. The helplessness I feel as I watch control of my destiny slipping out of my hands."

His hand clenched as Durbe hesitantly placed his own on top of it.

"But part of you wants there to be something more." His voice was soft, comforting. Misael had always admired that attribute of his closest friend.

He turned his hand and gripped Durbe's. "I want a life where I can live in peace, but one where I don't forget my past lives. Because despite everything, I'm glad I had them."

Durbe stared at Misael's hand, running his thumb over Misael's knuckles.

"I feel the same," he said quietly. He licked his lips. "Misael, can I tell you something?"

"Anything."

Drawing a deep breath, Durbe closed his eyes. "I didn't have you in my last life, but… I don't want a next life unless you're in it."

He kept his eyes closed, not daring to open them, hoping against hope that Misael didn't dismiss his feelings as silly or unlikely. He didn't expect the gentle hand on his face, and he let out a soft sigh as Misael brushed away a tear that he hadn't realized he had shed.

"Me neither. Let's go together."

Durbe opened his eyes to Misael's rare, soft smile.

"What?"

Misael stood, pulling Durbe with him. "Let's go together. The two of us."

Durbe's face was a mask of incredulity, disbelief. "Misael…"

"No matter what's facing us, if we go together, we'll be at peace."

Durbe reached up with a shaking hand and touched the golden ornament dangling from Misael's hair. It seemed ages ago he had given it to him. Another lifetime ago, he thought, amused, before pressing his body to Misael's.

Misael drew him closer and wrapped his arms around Durbe's shoulders. Durbe ran his hands up Misael's back, tangling his fingers through the long blond hair in the process, and gripped his shoulders tightly. He smiled and nestled his head against Misael's neck. "I'm ready, then."

Misael gently kissed Durbe's forehead and rested his chin on the top of his head. "No regrets, right?"

"No regrets. I'm ready to go."

They held each other, even as their bodies began to dematerialize for the last time.

"See you soon, Misael," Durbe whispered.

"Of course, my friend."