A/N: And…back to Ver's POV, 'cause I miss him.

This is the last chapter and I'd like to thank all of you who have stuck by me throughout the posting of this thing; I'm not sure it would have been finished without your support. A quick warning from me to you about a very OOC Karel (as far as I can tell...) and a bit of a spoiler on Karel and Karla's 'A' Support Conversation. Beyond that, just a bit more angst and (finally) the romance stuff I promised.

And, seeing as there is none of this stuff in the game, you can be sure I don't own it. Yay for the last disclaimer I have to do for this story...

Luv ya all and hope you take the time to read some of my other fics.

Now read.

I hadn't left my tent for the entire two days since the fight with Karel. That's not to say that I hadn't had contact with anyone since then—Lyn and a few others had visited me—but I had yet to venture beyond the tent flaps, unsure of what my reception would be like.

My mood hadn't been lightened at all by the fight or the fact that no one came to tell me to hit the road, but I couldn't figure out why. Everything had been settled as far as I knew and there weren't any imminent battles, so there seemed to be no reason for my edginess. Still, it persisted and I limited any conversations with other to about ten minutes to prevent physical injuries on the other party's behalf. Especially now that my hands had once again felt the grips of my daggers.

The morning of the third day dawned clear and stuffy, promising another scorcher. As I had the past two days, I considered and rejected the idea of moving on; being unsure of your place in a group and having to endure suffocating heat tend to do that to a person.

Lyn and Merlinus had already been by to discuss supplies and Legault and Heath had stopped by to let me know that they were going for a ride on Hyperion, probably trying to escape the heat that seemed to hold us captive. I had been surprised to see the wyvern-rider, considering that he'd been one of those who had believed Dart and Bartre's rumors, but surmised that Legault had probably either dragged him there regardless or convinced him of the truth.

Still, none of them prepared me for my next visitor, an hour or two before lunchtime.

I heard the tent flaps open and swish closed, but I didn't bother looking up from my paperwork for another few minutes. When I did, I nearly fell over backwards in surprise and immediately wondered why I had chosen to discard my tactician's robes in favor of a cooler outfit (with the extreme temperatures, those robes became a veritable oven, but the safety they represented was very tempting just then).

"K-Karel!" I sputtered, too surprised to formulate a coherent sentence. Taking deep breaths as I tried to come to terms with the swordsman being in my tent, I gathered what wits I could find around me. "What can I help you with?"

Karel was looking decidedly awkward, but determined, and I wondered why. Presumably, it was why he was here at all, but you never knew with psychotic swordsmen.

"I…need to talk to you, Ver." No doubt about it this time; he'd definitely said 'Ver,' not 'Verian' and it was quite deliberate. I added that perplexity to the pile already accumulated and raised an eyebrow, my calm regained, though my heart was still having palpitations.

"What about?" I asked, keeping my voice even. Karel fingered the hilt of his sword and I surreptitiously checked to make sure my daggers were within reach. No reason not to be prepared for any possibility.

"About you." He replied, looking me in the eye. "And me." The blood drained out of my face.

Oh, St. Elimine, he couldn't possibly mean…could he? How had he…? I narrowed my eyes at him, trying to see past that mask of cool indifference he wore so casually. "You talked with Legault, didn't you?" I asked in an almost accusatory tone. If the ex-Black Fang had told him more than he should have…

He nodded. "I did, but he wouldn't tell me everything and told me to talk to you if I wanted the full story."

Biting my lip to cover my relief, I leaned back in my chair, still maintaining a posture that lent itself to instantaneous defense if needed. "What do you know?"

When he finished telling me most of my own history, I nodded slowly. "That's about all there is to it, though Legault left out the most crucial part." One of my hands made its way to my temple, which I then proceeded to rub to relieve the headache I could feel starting.

"What would that part be?" He didn't give up, did he? I lifted my gaze to meet his and pursed my lips before sighing.

"I loved the Marquess' son." I said slowly, watching Karel's face to make sure he understood what I was saying and implying. "Before I killed him, though, I told him what I was, who I was, what I was sent to do." I broke off, closing my eyes as memories that were still painful despite the intervening years were dragged to the front of my mind.

Karel stepped forward, almost involuntarily, and frowned slightly, though I couldn't tell if it was from concern or confusion. "So, he understood what you were doing and he still let you do it?" Obviously, this wasn't sitting too well with his standards of how things like that were done.

"Yes." My voice had shrunk to a whisper, and Karel took another two steps forward to hear me. Now he was just a few inches away from the other side of my desk, less than a yard from me.

"He made you promise something, didn't he?" My eyes shot open and I glanced sharply up at him. His voice had been the gentlest I'd heard him use, even with his sister, and I thought I had heard an undercurrent of sympathy that was totally out of character for him.

"How…?" My throat went dry, so I swallowed and tried again. "How did you know?"

The swordsman rested one hand on the desk, not meeting my startled gaze. He shrugged. "Intuition. What was it?"

I let my eyes grow unfocused as I returned in my mind to that moment, when the young lord had smiled sadly at me and asked me to promise him one thing before I killed him.

"Don't let it happen again. Don't let someone else force you to hurt the one you love, regardless of the consequences."

I echoed the words in a whisper, feeling something wet running down one cheek. I blinked. Was I crying? Lifting one hand up, I wiped at my cheek and stared disbelieving at the wetness. I hadn't cried since I was five, when I understood that my parents had gone and weren't coming back.

A hand came to rest on my shoulder and I turned to look at Karel uncomprehendingly, my vision going blurry as more tears joined the first. For once, I didn't see the sword and ruthless mindset; all I saw was someone who was concerned and understanding. Why he should understand what I was going through or be concerned about me, I didn't know. But it was enough to make the rest of my barriers crumble to dust and set my body shaking with barely suppressed sobs.

Strong arms held me as I cried and my daggers hung forgotten on my belt, any pretense of control gone as I wept for the young boy whose childhood had been cut short to become an assassin and the young man who'd been forced to kill the one he loved. The pain seeped out with the drops of salty water, leaving me feeling oddly calm when I finally stopped sobbing.

Pulling back just enough to tilt my head up to look Karel in the eye, but not enough o totally disengage from the strangely comforting circle of his arms, I swallowed, unable to understand the expression in his dark eyes. Not quite trusting my voice to work properly, I let my face settle into a slightly bemused and confused expression, hoping my question would get across.

He didn't quite smile, but there as a slight relaxation of his face muscles that—had it been anyone other than Karel—probably would have resulted in a slight smile.

"It is something that has been engrained so deeply into yourself that it has become an impossibility to not do it." He said quietly. "I can understand that."

There was a moment of silence before he continued. "When we fought…it was obvious that you were…had become something that had found a reason to live. That was what I saw when you used your daggers to disarm me. I could see it in your eyes. When I asked you why you wouldn't kill me—though I knew that you knew that if you left me alive, I would find you and fight you again until one of us died—as you answered, the look you gave me reminded me of…of my sister." He paused to take a deep breath.

"She told me once, 'We are less than human now. We are no different from our swords themselves. Our hearts are cold, and we count the days we live solely by the flesh we cleave. What meaning can there be in such an existence?' (1) I did not have an answer. Since then, I have been thinking about that question and what my answer to it would be."

I frowned slightly. "Did you find it?"

There was a definite twitch upwards of Karel's lips and I couldn't help but think that he was acting rather oddly when compared to his usual behavior.

"I had been getting closer, but it wasn't until I fought you that I realized what it was."

My confusion must have showed, because Karel continued on to explain what he meant. "You had found a reason to keep living. After I talked with Legault, I thought about that for a while. And now that I know what it was that gave meaning to your life, I find my own answer. There is no meaning in an existence measured solely by killing."

"Then, what is your reason for living?" The traces of a smile, if that had been what it was, disappeared.

Eyes that had drifted away from my face to look elsewhere pulled back to connect with my own. Dark hair draped forward as Karel leaned a bit closer. I was suddenly very aware of his arms and the close proximity of the rest of him.

"You said that the young lord asked you to promise to never let anyone force you to harm the one you loved, correct?" I nodded, badly confused at what was happening, exactly. and he went on. "You said at the end of the fight that you couldn't kill me, right?" My nod was a bit slower this time, but he wasn't waiting for my answer. "Then, tell me, Verian. Why?"

His eyes held the same inscrutable look as before, but this time, I thought I recognized something in the dark depths. My feelings and actions from the past few weeks flew through my mind and I finally realized why I had acted like that. Closing my eyes so I wouldn't have to look at him, I whispered my answer.

"Because I love you."

"Good." I opened my eyes at the tone of his voice. What was he…? "If you had answered anything else, you wouldn't have seen me again." My confusion doubled.

"Why…?" I was prevented from finishing the question by Karel's finger.

"Now. This 'love' thing is a human emotion, right? So, by becoming human, you open yourself to these kinds of things, right? I overheard Legault saying that the Angel of Death had become human, had opened himself to love, and if he can, someone like me can too, right?" If there had been a competition for the most confusion, I would have left all the contestants in the dust. Karel didn't seem to notice, though.

"Becoming human doesn't require that I stop being a swordsman, though, so I don't have to change everything, but there are certain behaviors that are inherent in being human, so…"

I risked his anger and asked, "What the heck are you talking about, Karel?"

He smiled. Flat-out, no questions about it, smiled.

Caught off balance between coming to terms with something previously thought impossible and stopping my heart from jumping up my throat and killing me, I didn't add on to my question.

"I'm talking about how I've changed since joining up with you guys."

"Oh."

"But you wanted to know my reason for living. I'll tell you."

"Huh…?"

"I love you, too."

Somewhere in my mind, in a place not dealing with the swordmaster in front of me, I thought I heard a familiar voice.

"Make your own choices, Ver. No matter what others say, it's your life and you can do what you want with it. Just don't forget your promise."

I haven't and I won't.

"Good. And don't forget me, either."

How could I forget you?

"True…after all, it's because of me that you've come as far as you have. I'm proud of you, Ver."

Thank you, but…

"No, you've earned this on your own. Let your heart decide for you now."

I think I already have…

"Fine. Trust its judgment."

I will. After all, it's led me true this far.

"I love you."

I loved you, too, but it's time for me to move on, to open myself to new possibilities. The voice faded away and I knew that I would never hear it again. Something else replaced it, though, a very real voice that whispered in my ear.

"I love you."

A/N: The End. For those of you who didn't catch that at the end, there, that's the young (nameless and very dead) lord of Worde talking to Ver there. All told, it's probably a good thing he's dead...now Karel won't hunt him down and kill him out of jealousy...

Ah, it feels good to have this finished up; no more worrying about it and fretting over what to write and all that jazz...

Still, I hope those of you who have read this (and possibly my other story, Roses for a Queen) will stay with me when I write other stories or expand on ones I already have. I would love to hear from all of you!

Haliaetus