By the time she came to again, Rose had lost her senses in more ways than the one; it took her what might have been several minutes to convince her overloaded mind to consider its surroundings—and even longer to recognize any kind of meaning within them. Too long.

Judging by her ability to move freely, she hadn't been physically restrained; Rose supposed there had been no need, if she'd been knocked out. She lay on cold flat stone, but it didn't seem to be raining; she must be inside a building, then. Along with… the Scattered Bones! The truth of her situation came flooding back to her abruptly, and her eyes flew open in alarm.

Her sight was misty at first, so she had to rely on the echoing sounds in her exhausted ears to understand those swift blurs of black and white and green and gold. As the high metallic zip and click of pendulums harmonized with the deeper whoosh of fiery fists, Rose recognized with a jolt that Dezel was taking on Lunarre alone, and her muscles seized up briefly in fear. This couldn't end well…

Even her relief that Dezel had been able to stow away in her body after all seemed dull in the glaring light of this threat. At least that explained why she felt so fragile, she thought indistinctly, struggling to sit up; but at least her seraph had known better than to take control this time, so her temperature hadn't changed… mostly.

In her core had settled a heaviness like icy lead, but the sensation was a restless one and seemed to sear her insides like fire. Yet this didn't feel like the usual sensation of a malevolent domain; it seemed too powerful, too… personal. Had she been corrupted? Had Dezel? She gazed down at her blurry hands as if expecting to find talons, but they looked the same as ever to her bleary eyes—and if her seraph still fought hellions, he must be pure.

"Boss!" exclaimed a faint voice from somewhere behind her, and she started. Was that Eguille? Turning her head so quickly her neck cracked, Rose glanced over her shoulder to find the Scattered Bones behind her, every one of them imprisoned but apparently intact. She wasn't about to question it; relief enervating her still further, she swayed in place, eyes brimful of tears as she smiled despite herself.

But Rose had to keep moving. As long as she freed one of them, they could help the others while she helped Dezel; he'd been protecting her all her life, so she ought to return the favor. Besides, he'd been risking his life as she slept, so unless he was an even bigger hypocrite than she thought, the ban on putting herself in danger must be lifted.

Staggering to her feet and reeling in place as she tried to support her own weight on shaking legs, she reached automatically for her knives before remembering that they'd been left in the dungeons of Castle Diocese—and if memory served, this was the innermost hall of Pendrago Shrinechurch; she had a long way to go if she wanted her weapons. Except…

"About damn time!" shouted Dezel from a distance, throwing her knives at her feet, and she blinked in astonishment as he sidestepped out of the way of a blast of blue fire from Lunarre's ungloved hands. And, however advisable Rose knew it must be to strike while the iron was hot (so to speak), she couldn't help but stare in shock.

From the looks of things, she'd missed a hell of a fight while she was out: Dezel's shirt hung from his body in burnt tatters, his bare chest and arms and back adorned with several half-cauterized scores from Lunarre's clawlike nails. Breathing hard, he grit his teeth in pain and rage, his blind eyes wild—visible only because his beloved hat rested upside-down on the floor some distance away, along with his torn jacket.

She stirred herself away from her increasingly troubled observations, forcing her feet back to her family, and knelt by Eguille; he may have been sturdy in stature and personality, but he wasn't a young man anymore. "Are you—are you okay, boss?" he coughed, and Rose bit her lip uncertainly; he needn't be asking her those questions at a time like this. "I-is there a seraph…?" he prompted dimly, when she could not bring herself to respond.

"Y-yes," responded Rose, making thankfully short work of his ropes, and thrust the hilt of one of her knives into Eguille's hand: he stared at it dully, as if unsure how to use it, and she struggled not to snap at him. "But… he's in bad shape, so you handle the others. I need to help him kill Lunarre real quick, but after that, we can all get out of here."

Thankfully, Eguille asked no more questions; he only nodded once and set to work, albeit slowly, on freeing Felice. She seemed to be worst off among them, but there was no time to examine her too carefully: grimacing as her head throbbed, Rose narrowed her eyes as she evaluated the battlefield—trying to formulate some sort of backup plan. There was no way Lunarre hadn't predicted this; aside from his missing gloves, he seemed relatively unscathed as he taunted Dezel from afar, dodging his pendulums with effortless flexibility.

Her original intention had been to take him by surprise and escape with Dezel and her family; having failed in that, she had put both herself and her seraph at a dangerous disadvantage instead. Neither of them could stand against a hellion as powerful as Lunarre separately, nor should they risk armatizing in such an unstable condition. It was safest on the sidelines, thought Rose, aiming unsteadily…

Now. She threw her remaining knife to defend Dezel as the hellion charged forward, praying to all the gods it found its mark—but he swerved out of the way, and it missed his throat by an inch. "Is that the best you can do, boss?" yowled Lunarre, screeching with laughter, and hurled his ball of fire at Rose instead; Dezel lunged forward as if to intercept it… too late.

Rose dove out of the way of the explosion, crying out through clenched teeth as her skin scraped against the stony floor; this kind of clumsiness could get them both killed. But as Lunarre tossed up another wall of flame and shifted his focus to Rose once more, preparing another ball of flame to finish her off, Dezel fought it with fire of his own.

Piercing through the blue wall with radiant heat, he took a running jump to dive through the opening—catching Lunarre just as he turned in surprise to investigate the movement. "This is for the Windriders!" he yelled, throwing all his weight into a punch: the hellion gave a strangled hiss as the seraph's fist collided with his diaphragm, staggering backwards as Dezel hit the ground hard off to the side. This could be the perfect chance, if only…

"B-boss!" rasped Talfryn, and the knife they'd borrowed skittered along the floor towards her: forcing her aching muscles to move, Rose dragged her last dagger towards her desperately, flinging it at Lunarre's leg as he tried to regain his balance.

This time, it stabbed clean through his shin: he let out a shriek as his foot twisted, finally collapsing onto his back. Panting, Rose pushed herself to her feet again and advanced, stooping to pick up her other knife as she approached. The intensity of her own rage terrified her; it blotted out every other emotion beating in her heart, even worry for Dezel.

As Rose fell to her knees beside them both, Lunarre giggled somewhat nervously as he eyed the blades in her hands. "A-almost," he mumbled, squirming almost sensually, and she recoiled at his rolling motion. "You're so—so close. I can feel it… here." Slowly, he slid one of his hands up his torso to rest over his core; as Rose realized he meant that strange heaviness, Lunarre's eyes flicked to Dezel, his sinister smile widening slightly. "Just a little l-longer now…"

It took almost a full second for Rose to stir herself from her stupor, her heart skipping a beat as she reentered reality. She glanced back at her seraph fearfully to find his breaths labored and his eyes dim—but her vision swam in relief as he managed an exhausted but nonetheless encouraging half-smile. Perhaps this peculiar weight was the burden of a vessel sharing her seraph's torment; but at least he didn't seem in danger of dying. (Thank gods.)

Having established his safety, she turned her once more furious gaze on Lunarre and his insufferable grin; as she'd said what seemed like so long ago, it was finally time to finish this. "May these weary bones find peaceful rest," murmured Rose darkly, and plunged her dagger through his palm to pierce his pale chest.

Lunarre spasmed, coughing convulsively, and stared at the blade buried to the hilt in his twitching hand. As his eyes widened in shock and pain and detestation, he spat in Rose's face: his saliva burned her cheek like acid, and a physical form of fury surged suddenly through her core. The heaviness seemed to redistribute itself throughout her bloodstream so that her entire essence seemed made of molten lead, and she winced as her bite mark twinged.

Anger flashed like lightning through her head, and the thunder of her pulse pounding in her ears drowned out all hope of reason: giving in to a sudden violent impulse, Rose twisted the knife sharply with shaking hands.

Lunarre writhed beneath her, his mouth open and eyes widening as his breath hitched in voiceless agony—almost a foxlike whine. Something savage inside her seemed satisfied at that soft sound of suffering, but rising nausea cut her triumph short; Rose ripped her dagger from his body, cursing her lack of self-control, and threw it away before she could even retch.

Even as she did so, some of the heaviness seemed to lift from her chest, and she gasped aloud at the sensation of comparative weightlessness; she glanced over at Dezel to find him baring his teeth in a vindictive smile. Lunarre's golden gaze was fixed on him as well, but his next words were still addressed to Rose.

"You—w-want to know… what made me m-malevolent?" he whispered haltingly, his voice a ragged snarl; she bowed her head, reminding herself to breathe. "You did," he hissed, taking the motion as an affirmative, and reached his punctured palm up to paint her cheek in a crimson caress: her eyes widened. "You and your f-fake family, knotted together so t-tightly… you never let a-anyone else in."

Rose shook her head in sorrowful denial, her throat too constricted to speak; Lunarre echoed the motion mockingly, a fervent light in his dimming eyes. "You n-never trusted m-me," he growled faintly, fixing his gaze firmly on hers (full of searing hatred amid the tears of pain), and coughed feebly as his voice broke—a line of blood trailing thickly out the side of his mouth.

"I… I did once," admitted Rose shakily, unable to lie to him as he lay on his dark deathbed; Dezel struggled to sit up in her peripheral vision—but she could not tear her gaze away from Lunarre's face. "But you betrayed us," she finished more forcefully, but an inexplicable smirk tugged at the corner of his mouth, and she felt a frown flicker across her face. How could he—why would he…?

Rose cried out, startled, as her formless questions were answered abruptly: his body burst into azure flames. "It makes me sick!" exclaimed Lunarre, obscuring himself in a pillar of fire, the sheer power of which lifted him back onto his feet; Rose scrambled back, squeezing her eyes shut, as intense heat scorched her entire body like a fever. But what about her seraph—?

"Dezel!" she shrieked even before she recognized the only name in her mind, remembering him too late—but even as she screamed, something collapsed on top of her, and the heat lessened: Rose's eyes flew open to find that he had mustered the last of his strength to shield her. But all was not yet well; her focus slid over to Lunarre to find him enveloped in flames, his body barely visible at all anymore.

"Sick to death!" roared Lunarre, bellowing his final emphasis like a curse; his last, contemptuous words rang through the sacred hall like a demonic hymn… and just like that, he was gone; good riddance. He left behind only a puddle of smoldering malevolence; her steaming dagger; and a shining spherical something—was that an iris gem? But Rose didn't have time to squint too hard at his parting gifts.

"Boss!" cried Rosh, several sets of footsteps running up behind her, but Rose hardly heard them; nothing mattered anymore except herself and her seraph, their lives inextricably intertwined. She may love her family so much it hurt, but Dezel was hurting worse, so the next immediate issue had to be making sure he had survived. (Ironic, considering she'd risked both their lives to save the Sparrowfeathers instead.)

"Dezel," she mumbled frantically; she could feel his shallow breaths pressing against her chest, but whether or not he was conscious—whether or not he would ever be conscious again—remained to be seen. "Get up. You have to… you have to get up." Her voice sounded deep and raw to her own ears; she tried in vain to clear her throat in preparation to repeat herself, but…

Dezel gave a brief and halting exhalation into her upper chest, his abdominal muscles tensing against her hips; she froze automatically, feeling him trembling with the effort of pushing himself up. "I can't," he muttered into her, half delirious, but the muffled sound of his hoarse and quiet voice was the most beautiful thing she'd ever heard: he was alive! "I—I'm sorry."

Several seconds passed before Rose could actually speak; at first, when she tried it, she found herself sobbing out of sheer relief. As her heart truly lightened for the first time since the dragon's arrival, she finally allowed herself to realize it was over at last; they'd done it; they'd avenged Alisha and rescued their family. And while Lunarre was no Lord of Calamity, killing any hellion was progress. Especially that one.

"N-never mind," she sighed eventually, closing her eyes. "Just… don't die. Please. Th-that's all I ask." Half-laughing, half-crying, she massaged his stiff neck with one hand; he responded with a short and breathy sound of either pain or appreciation, and she stilled her restless fingers self-consciously: she couldn't risk hurting him more. "Get some rest, now. I'll—" Her voice broke, and she sniffled and swallowed dryly. "I'll watch over you."

"You better," mumbled Dezel, shifting slightly in place, and sighed deeply as he relaxed into her: even considering that he made a better pillow than a blanket, Rose found herself wishing she could sleep as well… but there was too much to be done. She opened her eyes almost reluctantly to gaze up at her family, standing around her as if on her deathbed, and she realized that they could not see Dezel.

No wonder they looked so worried! "Seraph," Rose explained softly, but the word was almost lost under Felice's faint moan. Gods; the girl could barely stand: "Talfryn, take care of Felice," she ordered, trying to conceal her overwhelming concern; he nodded, escorting his sister to the steps to sit down. "Eguille and Rosh, check the offering bowls for healing items. Dezel and Felice both need our help, so grab anything useful."

To Rose's relief, they nodded once and obeyed without so much as a hesitation, and she actually debated getting up to help out—but she was still the boss of two now-defunct guilds (thanks, Lunarre), so it'd probably be more useful to them all if she did her job and figured out what the hell they were supposed to do next instead. At least there was another iris gem accounted for; Rose had no idea why it had been in Lunarre's possession, but she wasn't about to complain.

Besides, she figured she'd earned herself a rest; she smiled up at the ornate ceiling for reasons she didn't quite understand, realizing that her breaths had synchronized automatically with Dezel's. She hadn't noticed how much she'd missed sleeping next to someone else, even if she'd only ever stayed long enough to do so a few times before.

Wait, sleeping? Rose shook her head to draw herself back out of her body and into her mind, exasperated with her own thoughts. Sleeping, of all things! Yeah, right. Dezel better catch a few Zs on her behalf: if she ever wanted to sleep again, she had a lot of work to do.

Happy birthday to me! Except I give gifts instead of receiving them, so here's a violent murder for you. (You're welcome!) Too bad I couldn't hit 100,000 words this installment, 'cause that'd be a super-awesome gift to myself. Oh well, next time for sure. And as of 2/19/16, Straya has drawn fanart of part of this scene. You can find it on either of our Tumblrs!

lazycat66: Nah, I mean, who'd ever guess that a wind seraph would have an eternal get out of jail free? But he planned on their combination for sure. As Rose mentioned.

N: *sigh of relief* Oh good; I was worried I'd pulled the rug out from under people, so I'm glad the last two dozen chapters haven't been for naught. As for Lunarre, I'm actually happy you think so, because I always thought he'd make a fantastic 'advanced' antagonist (which does, in fact, make sense—at least to me). As it is, in canon, he's reduced to evil sidekick and/or comic relief, which is just unfair given his potential.

NeD: Wow, thank you! The good side of those quick updates is that you don't have long to wait, haha.