54

Spes in extremus

L.N. 3

I

As soon as they crossed the entrance to the Pitioss Ruins, a whiff of millennia-old miasma struck them, and Silia unconsciously covered her mouth and nose with her arm, although she knew – assumed – to be immune.

"Be careful," Prompto warned them as they came down. Without consulting her, he put himself at the head of the group. "It's like a haunted house that can kill you at every step. We paved the way two summers ago. I wonder why they built such a place. It's not a temple, it's not a tomb, it's not a city. It's..."

Prompto stopped. Silia completed for him as soon as she saw the huge spiky blocks that descended and raised and under which they would have to pass in order to proceed: "It's a fucking training center."

"Yes, perhaps for horror movie sadists," added Ignis.

"We had something similar in the facility where I trained with the Kingsglaives recruits," said Silia. "Not so tacky, I must say."

"You mean, deadly traps that risked gutting you at the faintest distraction?" Kamal asked. Silia sensed him to be a little less self-confident now.

She smiled. "Gutting us. Cutting us in two. Shattering our bones. But our trainers didn't use them right away, of course. Only the last two years, when we could count on warping and magic walls. And at the slightest danger, one of them was ready to cast. Most times. Our training had been too expensive to let us die even before going to war." She reached out to grab his shoulder. "You're with me, kid, but be careful, I don't have magic anymore. Prompto, you go with Ignis."

"I dare to say I do not need Prompto to get through," Ignis protested.

"I know that very well. You have to take a look at him. Metaphorically speaking. Your reflexes are much better than his."

"Hartwood, with all due respect," Kamal replied, gently freeing himself. "This is the first time I will have to pass under a spiky roller, but I've got some reflexes too." Without hesitating, he nimbly passed under the press. Silia felt she lost two or three years of life.

"With all due respect, kid," she joined him, passing too as soon as she could. "Go on alone again and I swear I'll break your legs and leave you here at the entrance. I had placed a condition to let you come: you listen to my instructions to the letter, or I kick your ass back."

Kamal had the good taste not to challenge her. "Lead the way then, Boss."

"If you don't mind..." Ignis said, when he and Prompto shot out beyond the presses, "let us, or at least Prompto, lead the way. If Gladio isn't an idiot, which I don't feel to exclude, he followed the paths we have already walked."

~~~XV~~~

The Pitioss Ruins didn't resemble any of the Solheim dungeons that Silia had explored until then. The further they went, the more she had the idea that it had been built to test something, or rather, someone. Unless it held the most precious, or the most dangerous, of the Solheim treasures. They actually met very few daemons, at least in the upper levels. Perhaps most of them had been roasted by the flames still emanating from seemingly harmless arches and doors, or pulverized by the huge rocks that rolled over you like bowling balls if you stepped on the wrong tile, or squashed by the movable walls that closed on you. Curiously, she also saw beasts – living beasts, not daemons – that had made lair in the ruins entering from who knew where. Alacrans, Daggerquills, Sabertusks.

Silia kept an eye on her watch, because she knew how easy it was to lose the sense of time in dungeons, and kept an eye on the path to memorize it, because the ruins were a damn labyrinth. Ignis proceeded quickly, but often stopped to ask them for directions on what they saw to determine which way to go to retrace the same steps as the previous time. He had a prodigious memory, almost photographic, and that was precisely what had made his blindness less burdensome.

"There was a magnetic wall of some kind there," explained Prompto, pointing to a pillar. "There were many, actually. We turned them off by touching those round panels you see around every now and then. We're on the right track."

"Provided it's the same one that Gladio took," Silia pointed out.

"We have no choice but to guess," said Kamal. "I haven't seen any sign that could suggest anything different."

They had been inside for two hours, and Silia was becoming more and more frustrated at Gladio, but at Ignis as well, because he was clearly exhausted. Traversing those ruins bristling with traps required a constantly high level of alert, quick reflexes and a colossal waste of energy. She herself was tired, and they would need at least twenty minutes rest to be able to proceed safely, but she couldn't decide to propose it, and none of the other three asked for it.

"Let's give ourselves two or three more hours," she said, "and then you go back to the entrance, the all of you. I'll manage somehow."

Ignis stopped in the hallway, annoyed. "Silia, please."

Silia also stopped beside him. "No, Ig. Let's be realistic. First, we haven't endless supplies. We were not equipped for getting lost in a dungeon. Second, Gladio has been here for at least two days. We know he's in Pitioss, or at least that he got here, but we have no idea if he's still alive. And even if he is, we won't necessarily find him." Those words, absolutely reasonable, burned her throat like melted lead in pronouncing them. "Third, every hour we're here, with this concentration of miasma, it's one more hour that the three of you risk being infected. Gladio, as far as we know, may already have been infected. Our very presence here is a risk that I shouldn't have made you take. Numbers count in war. Four lives for one isn't..."

She found Ignis' fingers on her mouth. She didn't expect it, and she didn't react.

"Please," Ignis repeated in a very low voice. Silia didn't move, and for a moment she was sure that he would say something for which they would fight furiously under the Pitioss Ruins; instead, Ignis lowered his hand in dismay. "We are not at war," he merely said, "and this is also true for you, or you would not be here. We'll keep looking. If not Gladio, we will find his clothes, and then we will all go back."

After a moment's hesitation, Prompto started walking again, visibly upset. Neither of them had said it explicitly, but it was clear that they would go on even without her consent, and she could have done nothing to prevent it. For whatever reason, Delilah's words came back to her – when Iris, Cindy and Cestia had forced her to wear a wedding dress: Since they're doing it anyway, make people believe that it's just because you allowed it.

"Let's go on together," she said, trying not to let the discouragement leak through her voice. "But as soon as we find a suitable place, we rest for twenty minutes."

II

They were still on the third level of the ruins, or so Prompto and Ignis thought. When they had been there before, the guys had laboriously reached the bottom only to find, with disappointment, that it contained no Royal Arm, and it had taken them more than two days.

"The statue with the colossal tits was a nice touch." Kamal was sweaty and disheveled, and an out of sync blaze released by the mouth of a horned skull-shaped high relief had burned the brim of his ridiculous hat. Although he was trying to not show it too much, given the delicate matter, that expedition intrigued him. Silia couldn't blame him, after all; if she had military blood, he was a true hunter to the core. "Anyway, this dungeon won't fool me anymore. We've been meeting the same traps for hours and now it's easy to understand how not to trigger them."

Ignis frowned. "Be careful, Rohan. The dungeon is built specifically to let your guard down. And it falls apart. It was probably built as to overcome each block someway, but at least four thousand years have passed since then."

"Oh, the slide!" Prompto gestured towards what looked like the edge of an abyss. It wasn't. Approaching, Silia saw that the ground was dizzyingly falling off in a sloping stone ramp. "From here we go to the fourth level. After all, it's f..."

"Don't say it," Silia threatened him. She glanced down again. The bottom was visible, but quite below.

"Traps on the slide?" Kamal asked. "Like, poles that suddenly pop up from nowhere and you smash on them?"

"No trap," replied Ignis. "Last time, at least."

Kamal looked impatient. "Shall we go, Hartwood?"

"Oh Gods, but what is this, a kindergarten school trip?" She sat on the edge. The stone surface was smooth enough that perhaps she wouldn't burn her ass. Maybe. She moved the backpack onto her chest to prevent the friction from breaking it. All she needed was having to collect rations, water bottles, bombs and ropes around. "I'll go first."

She let herself slide. The inclination of the ramp was steep, but it didn't cause her great inconvenience, and in less than a minute she was down. The last section of the slide had collapsed, but the jump was just seven feet, and she landed without problems on the floor of the room below.

When her feet touched the ground, she felt a vibration she didn't like at all. She touched her ear to activate the transmitter.

"Ig, do you copy? Don't come down now. Stay there until I contact you again."

"Kamal is behind you. Is all f…?"

Silia had to move to avoid Kamal. The floor creaked as he straightened up, and she froze on the spot.

"Kamal, stop!"

Fortunately, Kamal obeyed. He stayed crouched on the floor without even lifting his head. "What's up?"

"The floor's crumpling. Freeze."

She kept on sensing the precariousness of the floor beneath them. She ventured to slowly turn her neck to evaluate the situation. Kamal was closer to the edge of the ramp. Jumping, he could have hung on it. The floor probably would have collapsed, but with a little luck she would be able to reach more solid ground. Trusting in Ignis and Prompto's help would be useless. The ramp was too steep for them to stop their slide, and too horizontal for them to throw a rope.

"Jump and hang on the ramp."

"No."

Silia's eyes widened in disbelief. "Kamal, the deal was I order, you obey." Another creaking sound.

"Hartwood, with all due respect..."

The floor sank under their feet. Silia wasted no time to see how far below they would have smashed; she jumped, grabbed Kamal's arm and looked for a hold.

She didn't find any. They fell into the void.

~~~XV~~~

As she was hanging dangling from Kamal's arm, Silia tried to convince herself that she couldn't kill him at the moment, or they would both fall.

"Kamal, as soon as I've a free arm I'll punch your face," she gasped.

"Hartwood," he hissed in return. "I'm Hand of Mercy. The second rank of the Meldacio. Stop treating me like a kid."

"If you had listened to me instead of going rogue," she replied, irritated, especially since he had been the readiest of them to extract the crossbow with the grappling hook, "there would have been no need."

"I had the crossbow at hand. And if I had jumped to reach the ramp, you would have fallen."

"No. If I hadn't had to grab you, I would have managed to get on a solid ground." Perhaps.

"Shit, Hartwood, you can't assume you always know what's best!"

"Kamal," she said icily. "Shut your mouth."

Kamal sighed, but didn't reply. "Hang on. We go down or up?"

Silia clung to his waist and shoulder to free his arm so he could grab the crossbow with both. "We go down. We're twenty feet from the floor below."

"We'll lose Prompto and Ignis."

"Just go down. Slowly. We need to make sure that that floor doesn't fall too."

As soon as she was sure the floor held up, Silia brought Kamal down. After ascertaining that this floor was more solid than the other, Kamal unhooked the grappling hook and withdrew it.

"Well. What about n...?"

Silia punched him in the face. She rarely lost her temper that way, even more rarely did she use physical force on one of her guys outside the training camp, but at that moment there was too much at stake and two verbal warnings, in her view, were already enough.

Kamal either couldn't get away or didn't even try. Silia grabbed him by his shoulders and shoved him.

"Kamal, I won't tell you again. This isn't a school trip and I'm not gonna die here," she warned him.

"I'm sorry," he said, this time without irony or complacency.

"I'm not gonna die here before finding my husband," she repeated. "I trusted you, Kamal. Now you have to trust me. I've twelve years of field experience on my back, I'm used to quickly assess risks and consequences, and in times of danger I can't waste time explaining to you why and how. You just have to listen to me."

"I trust you, Hartwood," he replied, without looking at her. He rubbed his cheekbone. "I just didn't want anything to happen to you."

"The risks of something happening to me to prevent something from happening to you increase if you don't follow my instructions, even when you don't understand or agree with them," Silia replied, adjusting her backpack. "It's the first rule I made clear in Hammerhead, when I started training my guys. It's the first rule they made clear with me, before sending me to war. I won't lie to you saying that the I've always respected it. Sometimes it was good, more thanks to luck than to my skills, sometimes it was bad. But now that I'm on the other side, I'm beginning to understand." She looked around, trying – uselessly – to orientate herself. They had flown at least sixty feet down, they were separated from Ignis and Prompto, and she had to decide if it was better to try to go up and rejoin with the others or to continue the search of Gladio separately. She started to touch her ear and activate the transceiver to contact Ignis, but Kamal started talking again.

"You know, Hartwood. I wanted to come to Hammerhead with you when the Long Night started. I took it badly when you brought Jonas, Cestia and that Evander brat with you. Especially 'cause in those days I was at the HQ and I couldn't plead my case."

Silia didn't reply. She had thought of taking him with her – she could have looked for him at the HQ – but she didn't want direct involvement with the Meldacio, as much as she liked Ezma Auburnbrie. She already had to account to Cor, she didn't want to account to her too. Useless decision, she had discovered later, when the EHSO was formed.

"I also spoke to Madame Auburnbrie. I asked her for permission to reach you in Hammerhead. She replied that if the Coeurl had ever sent for me, I could go freely, but to let you decide in complete tranquility whom you wanted to take with you. I hoped it would be me, but it didn't happen."

"It was a question of balance, Kamal," she said, less sourly. She stopped. Before she risked sinking further floors down, she wanted to try to contact Ignis and Prompto. "Gladio, Ignis and Prompto were already with me in Hammerhead. Three perfectly trained fighters, even if Ignis is blind. Together with them, I preferred to bring good people, but at the beginning of their training, to leave the Marshal free to allocate more experienced men in other camps where they were more needed. You were one of them. More, it was better for you, it seems to me. You climbed the hierarchies of the Meldacio. In Hammerhead there's so much to do that you wouldn't have had time to wander, explore Solheim ruins for pleasure and take hunting missions at your leisure."

Kamal didn't contradict her. "In retrospect, you're right. But two years ago, I thought you hadn't sent for me because you didn't think I was up to it. Or trustworthy. For this reason, when you called me yesterday..." He shrugged.

"Kamal, I thought we were beyond that point," she sighed. He posed so much as a man of the world, but he was still a boy looking for approval. "When my husband disappeared and I realized that the only way to find him was to bring a tracker with me, you were the first person that came to my mind. And you played your role perfectly. But don't try to overdo it. You only risk getting yourself killed and getting me killed."

This time Kamal smiled. "Yesterday I told you on the radio that you hadn't changed at all. But now that we've met, I have to take it back."

"Oh, yeah?" she replied. "What do you mean?"

"I had never seen you agitated in Orior, even after what happened in Altissia. But now you're anxious. You care a lot 'bout your husband, huh?"

Silia grimaced. "I was anxious in Orior too. The month after what happened in Altissia I was a caged animal. Have you already forgotten how I massacred you in those days?"

Kamal chuckled. "Hartwood," he said, turning serious. "I give you my word of honor that from now on we do as you say. Literally. If you tell me to jump in the fire, I jump."

"Good," she smiled. "If I tell you to do it, it is because it's better to be burned than dead." She activated the transceiver and searched for Ignis' frequency. "Ig?"

"Silia, at last. What happened? Are you both fine?"

"We're fine, but the floor under the slide has collapsed. That's why I told you not to move. Listen. There are two options: you can go back..."

"Do not even think about it."

"...or you can find a way to reach us. Which means deviating from the known paths, if we can call them that, given that the floor under the slide has collapsed. Either way, we will continue to look for Gladio. It could take you ten minutes or two hours to find a way to get here."

She heard Ignis sigh. "Fine. But let's keep in constant contact to communicate the respective positions, as much as is possible. Can you describe me where you are? We may have already been there two years ago and can give you instructions."

Silia looked around. "Usual kitsch shit. We're in a room with a very high ceiling – the one collapsed under the slide. The hall is dimly lit. Everywhere, crazy stairways worthy of an expressionist work. Skulls on the walls. Wait!" She stopped, noticing a circular panel higher, reachable from one of the stairways. "You passed through here two years ago. There's a disabled switch."

"Good news. Please keep on describing the environment."

"Ten ogee arches open onto the hall. Nine, 'cause one has completely collapsed. On the top there are..." From there she couldn't understand what the hell they were. She took a few cautious steps, lighting up the floor, then stopped. The dark floor hid those bastard wedges that triggered pikes. Silia bent to pick up a stone fragment the size of her thumb and threw it against the wedge. A pike emerged ten inches from her foot, right where she expected. She grabbed it before it could retreat and broke it.

"Silia, are you all right?"

"Yeah, there're traps not triggered," she replied, fiddling with the pike. "I was approaching one of the arches to describe them." She walked on the floor, careful to avoid the other wedges.

"They're suns," said Kamal's voice on the transmitter. Silia turned, believing that despite the punch, despite their discussion, he had gone away on his own again. But Kamal was looking towards one of the arches, and he hadn't moved from where she had left him. He really had a good eyesight, even in dim light.

"Now I remember. You are still on the fourth level. Forget about the arches. Obviously, we have tried to go past some of them, but they are dead ends leading to other traps. The switch has opened another way, a little hard to see. Walk the walls of the room until you find it."

"Thanks, Ignis. What about you? You fine?"

"We are. We have found a way around the slide. Are you sure you don't want to wait for us?"

"The exit is there, Hartwood, I can see it. On the right. But you should come here."

"I am sure," she replied to Ignis. "Kamal, I'm comin'. See you soon, Ignis."

When she reached Kamal, in the light of the torch, she saw that his face was suddenly pale, his look tense.

"Kamal, what...?"

"The exit is over there," he interrupted her, illuminating a dim spot with his torch. "But first I've to tell you something. Can't you smell it?"

"The two of us who stink of sweat, blood and burnt clothes, you mean?"

"No. There's a slight smell of..." He looked away. "...death," he decided to say, in a very low voice.

"Death?" Silia asked stupidly, before understanding what he meant. Her heart missed a beat. "Of corpse, you're saying?"

Kamal shrugged without answering. He directed the torch towards the nearest arch. "Over there, I think."

Silia appealed to all her nerve to not run. She touched Kamal's elbow, feeling an embarrassing sense of comfort at that contact, and led him. "Come on," she said dryly.

They reached the arch without setting off any traps and crossed it. The hallway there was darker, and Silia also sensed the smell Kamal was talking about. Something dead, recently but not too long. Days.

The beams of their torches simultaneously lit a heavy mass on the floor.

"Oh, for the Six," Silia let out in a whisper. "It's a Spiracorn."

"Thank goodness," sighed Kamal, continuing to move the torch. "There are others."

They reached the nearest one, and Kamal bent down to examine it. There were four carcasses, lying within a dozen feet down the corridor. They were huge, the largest specimens that Silia had ever seen. "Really big guys," Kamal also noted. "Dead for no more than a few days. And it wasn't the daemons or the traps." He pointed to the stumps. "Someone took their horns away."

Silia remained kneeling beside him. "A group of particularly idiotic hunters must have come here recently," she speculated. "Maybe they had an accident, one of them managed to get back up to ask for help..."

"...and he or she met your husband," Kamal concluded for her, getting up. "It's plausible. Let's go on. Maybe we find other signs of Gladio's or the hunter's passage."

Silia contacted Ignis on the transmitter. "Ignis, do you copy?"

"Perfectly."

"There're four Spiracorn's carcasses. Not in the corridor you were telling us about but going past one of the arches. They're not simply dead, they've been killed by someone."

"Great!" Prompto intruded into the conversation. "This is the first sign of a human passage that we found!"

"Exactly. But we don't know who did it. Kamal and I will continue on in this hallway."

"We should reach you soon," said Ignis. "We managed to go down without going through the slide. What is the arch you are talking about?"

"The fourth closest to the half-hidden door, proceeding on the right," Kamal replied.

"Here we go!" said Prompto.

"Perhaps," Ignis corrected him. Silia heard the sound of rollers.

After a sharp bend, Silia and Kamal exited in a long corridor. There were two dimmed obstacles on the floor. When lightened up, they turned out to be a big backpack – Gladio's backpack – and a bundle of huge Spiracorn's helixhorns tied together.

"It's his backpack!" Silia exclaimed. She started to accelerate, and Kamal followed her, but she braked not even five feet further, blocking the hunter behind her. Just in time, because a small portion of the already gutted floor, ahead, shattered and fell.

"Stop, Kamal, or we do an encore. The floor's coming down here as well." She took a deep breath and called for Gladio. "Gladio! You there?"

No answer. Silia took off her backpack and started to secure a rope around her waist. She took the crossbow with the grappling hook.

"Gladio? You hear me?"

Again, Gladio didn't answer. Silia crouched down, made sure that that portion of floor was solid, and handed one end of the rope to Kamal. She had to be very careful. Not only did she risk falling down, but if Gladio was down there and still alive, she could smash his head with debris. "Wait for me here, Kamal," she said. "I'm lighter than you."

"Be careful."

Silia walked slowly to the point where the floor had broken down. She picked up the bundle of helixhorns tied together and with a single fluid movement threw it to Kamal, who took it on the fly with his free hand. She did the same with Gladio's backpack. Better to remove unnecessary weights out of the way. Without speaking, she showed Kamal her thumb and started walking again.

Reaching the edge, she crouched again carefully, leaning over. At the bottom, the darkness was pitch. She sensed no movement or sound, but it didn't mean anything; if Gladio had fallen there – as far as she knew, the floor could have collapsed behind him and he had preferred not to risk going back to retrieve the backpack – he could have proceeded looking for a way to go up.

She narrowed her eyes, trying to make out something in the dark. She too had to decide whether to go down or go on. The four of them could proceed split into two groups, perhaps. Suddenly, she thought she saw a tiny, faint glow. An almost dead flashlight, perhaps. Quite below her. Again, it meant nothing. It could have dropped from Gladio's hands and...

Too many if and perhaps and could. At that rate she wouldn't go anywhere. She had to make a decision, and immediately.

"Kamal, warn Prompto and Ignis and tell him to get a move on."

"Immediately. But what..."

"Hold the rope tight," she warned, before dropping into the void.

There was no kind of hold. Gladio would never have been able to go up alone, not from there, if he really had fallen. Fortunately, Kamal gave her a lot of rope, and she quickly hit the ground. She hurriedly took the flashlight out of her mouth and lit up around her. It was a room with very high ceilings.

Gladio was there, a few steps away from her, his back against a large block of stone. Eyes closed, deadly pale, bloody. For a moment she was sure he was dead.

"Gladio!" she shouted, kneeling beside him. "Gladio, you hear me?"

She placed her fingers on his neck to check his pulse. As soon as she touched him, Gladio's eyelids trembled for a moment, then he opened his eyes. He closed them immediately, apparently annoyed by the light. He raised a hand, perhaps to shield himself, but his arm fell inert after rising slightly.

"The book," he said hoarsely.

"What?"

"The book you lent me. The one about... I don't remember. But it's on my desk."

"For Odin's cock, Gladio, you're nuts." She leaned her hand on his forehead. It burned. His lips were cracked from dehydration. Potential internal bleeding. No surprise he was delirious. But he was fucking alive. "Everything'll be fine. Now we're going home."

Her transmitter crackled. "Hartwood," said Kamal. "Did you find him?"

"Yeah, he's here," she replied. "Thrashed, but alive."

"Yes!", "Thanks goodness!" Prompto's and Ignis' voices overlapped. "We're coming, Silia," Prompto said. His voice was on the verge of tears. "Wait for us."

She looked around. There was nothing to arrange a stretcher. And she couldn't harness him. The pressure of the ropes could worsen Gladio's wounds. Perhaps kill him.

"I need help," she admitted. "I can't harness him, nor build a stretcher. And I can't hold Gladio with a single arm without harming him while using the grappling hook with the other."

"I'm comin' down, Hartwood."

"Rohan, please, we're on our way," Ignis said. "We have almost reached the high-ceiling hall. We have found Gladio. No imprudence. Wait a few minutes."

"Hartwood?" Kamal asked her.

"He's right. Wait for them."

"Home. Yeah. Insomnia," Gladio whispered. He tried again to lift his left arm, and once again he failed. He lifted his right one and placed it on her hand that she still held on his forehead. "You should really come to my house someday, Silia. Meet Iris."

"Sure," she answered, kissing a corner of his mouth. She was so relieved she could cry. "I'll come wherever you want, Gladio. You'll get by. But now I need to know if anyone else is in danger here."

"What?"

"Other people, Gladio. Hunters." She touched his face again, regretting having left the backpack with Kamal not being able to at least wet his lips. "Gladio, please. Focus for a moment. Just a moment. We are in Pitioss. Did you come here with someone else? I need to know."

He didn't answer. Silia snorted, exasperated, and lit the room in search of any sign of the presence of third parties, without much hope. If Gladio Amicitia was in such condition, it was unlikely that someone had fallen with him and managed to drag himself elsewhere.

"Gladio," she sighed. "If they're alive, we'll have to leave them here. You're in no condition to endure more hours. Please."

Gladio opened his eyes again. "Silia?"

"Tell me, Gladio."

This time he seemed much more present to himself. "Is it really you or am I delirious? I fell down. I think I passed out, but I don't know for how long."

She smiled, stroking his bloody hair. "It's me. You've been down here for at least two days. It's Thursday, Gladio."

"Thursday?" His eyes widened. "Are you kidding me? I don't..." He moaned. "Fuck, Silia, I think I have broken ribs. And my left leg. And my left arm. How could I be so stupid?"

"Even the best ones have bad luck. The fractures will settle."

"Thought I was going to fucking die down here."

"For so little?" she teased him. "The man who defeated the Blademaster?"

"I heard of a Lucis Caelum who died suffocated by a slice of ham after surviving ten years in war."

Silia laughed, leaning over him again to kiss him.

"Oh, for the Six, I thought I was dying but there's something well alive, you know?"

"We'll talk about it later. Now tell me. You were with someone, right? Where are they?"

Gladio blinked. "There's no one else, Silia. I was alone."

"Alone? Gladio, what the fuck were you thinking?"

He closed his eyes again. "Is my backpack up there?" he croaked.

Silia nodded. "Yeah, that's how I understood that perhaps you were here."

"Good. 'cause there should also be eight helixhorns. I wouldn't be caught dead leaving them here."

Helixhorns. Silia began to understand but refused to accept it. All the love she had felt so far dissolved. "Gladio, if you tell me that you came on purpose to Pitioss for those fucking Spiracorns, I swear that I will split your face and leave you here."

"Don't get angry."

"I'm not angry! I'm furious!"

"It's my gift for our anniversary. I wanted to take them to Cid to reforge your broken sword."

"There'll be no anniversary. As soon as I get out of here, we divorce."

He laughed again, aware that it was an empty threat. "You know I love you, don't you?"

"You better. We've come to this fucking sick pit just for you."

"We? Who are you here with?"

"Ignis and Prompto, obviously. They came with me to look for you. I don't think you know the other one. Kamal Rohan. One of my guys in Orior. He followed your tracks like a hound in the Ravatoghan Trail and then in the Sufside Peaks. We'd never have found you without him."

"Should I be jealous?"

"No, you can rest assured. I would only marry him to spite you, after what you've been putting me through for the last two days, but I'm not so sure he's less of an idiot than you are."

"He's young?"

"Yeah. And he's very handsome, but don't tell him I told you."

"You sure nothing happened between you in Orior?"

"Gladio, I never promised you exclusivity."

"Not at first, you're right. Now you did. That's what they call marriage."

"There're also open marriages."

"Not this one."

"And who decided that?"

"Me."

"We never discussed this aspect. We'll talk about it later," she repeated. "Now save your energy. We'll get you out of here. Hold on."

Gladio nodded and closed his eyes again. Silia checked his pulse and breath and waited for the others. After about a minute, she could hear Prompto's voice from above.

"Silia, we're here!"

Silia raised her head, but she couldn't see their flashlights. Of course, they had remained on the floor section not at risk of collapsing.

"Hartwood, I'm comin' down."

Kamal descended the way she had done a few minutes before. He touched ground, looked at her, then at Gladio.

"Shit, I heard the Sworn Shield was huge, but not this big, Hartwood. Will he be fine?"

"He will. He has even more mettle than strength. And he will have to be here when the Prince returns."

Kamal nodded, crouching beside Gladio. "Are you sure you're up to holding him with a single arm?"

"I can do it. Let's go upside."

They aimed the crossbows upwards, shot two grappling hooks and waited until Ignis told them they were solidly fixed. Then they carefully took Gladio under his armpits and slowly rose up.

"You okay, Hartwood?" asked Kamal.

She wasn't okay. Gladio was damn heavy. "Yeah. Slowly, Kamal. At least he fainted again. It must be painful."

Kamal sighed. "Hartwood, what you said just before... you still believe in it?"

"What?" She was out of breath.

"In the Prince's return. I hoped that when the night at last fell, he'd come back to do something about it. Instead, we've been in the dark for over a year."

"Don't lose hope, Kamal."

"But how can you say that? Some Glaives' feeling?"

"Sort of. And it's not just that."

"And how's it, then?"

Silia looked at him and smiled. "Gods are working for us."

"And are we really sure it's a good thing, considering how fucked we are?"

"I want to believe it. Or as soon as I meet Bahamut, I'll kick his godly ass."

Kamal chuckled. "Now that I heard it from you, I think I can go on and believe it."

"Why, did you believe that the Immortal was lying?"

"Not to me. I mean, sometimes when you're in charge you've to say things so that people won't panic, right?"

"Right," she admitted, breathless.

"And you can't just say 'well, folks, this is the doomsday, try and stay alive but get over it'."

"Right. But this time we told the truth. Wanna hear the naked version?"

"Dunno. Perhaps. Yes. Tell me."

"The Prince will come back. I'm positive 'bout it. But it could happen after we're gone. After our children will be gone. Our grandchildren. Gods have plans for Noctis Lucis Caelum and this world, but gods are immortal. We're not."

Kamal was staring at her.

"Hope, Kamal. Hope and fight. That's all we can do."

And then she saw the edge of the upper floor. Prompto, harnessed as they were, had reached the edge to help them. He took Gladio out of her arms and they ran to Ignis, on more solid ground, just in time. The rest of the floor behind them collapsed with unsustainable noise.

Silia remained on her back out of breath, her head spinning with fatigue. She no longer felt her arms. She was about to pass out.

Still panting, Kamal knelt beside her and began to untie the knots in her harness. "You okay, Hartwood?"

"I'm fine," she croaked, trying not to throw up.

"For all the Six, I swear I'll never piss you off again," he laughed, helping her to sit up. "How much did you say your husband weighs, two hundred pounds? You went easy when you punched me a little while ago."

"Don't worry, I don't think I can punch anyone for some days. My arms were about to come off. Thanks, guys, for pulling us up. How's Gladio, Ig?"

Ignis and Prompto were bending over him. "He has broken ribs. And internal bleeding, I'd guess," Ignis replied, "but he breathes properly. His lungs are not damaged, I think. We have to get him out of here."

"Let's warn Hulldagh's medical car, if they have not already headed home leaving us for dead, and go back." Silia sighed, getting to her feet. Her back was hurting like hell, and she should have drawn on the chemical support everyone had in their backpacks. "It will be a trifle."

III

Gladio opened his eyes in a bed. He wasn't in Hammerhead. He didn't know how much he had slept, although, he bet, he had never slept so much in his whole life. It occurred to him that, no matter how many times he had come close to getting himself killed since he had left Insomnia, he had never been so bad off.

There was an oil lamp lit on a bedside table next to his bed, but the electric lights outside the windows were on, he could see it through the drawn curtains, so it must have been day. He tried to get up, but he could barely manage to raise his head. He felt numb. They must have given him something for the pain, because he had two IVs attached to his right arm and the left one was completely bandaged.

He heard voices beyond the door but didn't call them. He was glad that he was still alive, but he felt humiliated by what had happened to him. He had entered the Pitioss Ruins alone, without warning anyone, so bloated of his skills that he forgot a fundamental rule: never go alone in the Solheim dungeons, even if you are the man who defeated Gilgamesh. The best sword technique in the world can't save you from a broken floor. As much as the unexpected was always around the corner, he was about to screw up his role as a Sworn Shield – he was about to screw up his life – out of stupid recklessness.

Not all fighters die fighting.

He felt sleepy again, and he slowly lost his senses.

~~~XV~~~

When he woke up again, across the room there was a male stranger sitting on a chair with a bandaged arm hanging from his neck, and a female stranger bent over him.

"Fuck, it hurts!" said the man in a low voice. On second thought, he had already heard his voice when he was half asleep. And on second thought, he also knew the woman.

"Don't complain," the woman said dryly. "Thirteen stitches on your head and your shoulder dislocated? You're lucky."

Gladio rubbed his eyes and moved on the bed. He wanted to sleep more, but he was thirsty and there was no water on the bedside table. And he wanted to see Silia. "Hey," he croaked.

The two turned to him. "Here's another lucky one," said the woman – the doctor of Hulldagh Pyke. "Don't move, Amicitia. I'll come immediately to you. Are you alright?"

The word 'alright' should be erased from the vocabulary, Silia always said. Gladio made a face. "If you can say so."

"You did a nice flight, they told me," said the man. His chest was bloody. "Thank Six you're fine. I'm one of those who came looking for you with Quintinus on the Ravatoghan Trail on Wednesday. The Coeurl was luckier than us the next day or you wouldn't be here."

Gladio blinked, struggling to getting up his back. "Thanks, man. But what day is today?"

"Saturday night," replied the woman. She finished cleaning the wound on the man's chest and stuck an adhesive gauze on it. "You slept a good deal, Amicitia, but not enough. I apologize for Oscar waking you up. At his age he still can't endure the pain of a dislocated shoulder silently."

"And a gash on my collarbone, Myra."

"It's a scratch."

Gladio smiled. "Thanks for everything. You fixed me, I guess, Dr. Myra?"

The woman nodded. "A toil. Eleven fractures to be reduced, Amicitia, and allow me, you have very big bones. Three broken ribs. Four fractures in the left leg, three in the left arm. Cracked pelvis. Now you feel nothing because you're stuffed with morphine up to your eyes, but it will be a hell of a lot of pain when we'll decrease it. And, as I said, you were lucky. You were in septicemia when you came here."

"Fuck," he let out, raising his right arm to scratch his hairline. He found a gauze there too. "And all for a broken floor. Can anyone call Silia Hartwood, please?"

"I'll go find her, I'm done here," Oscar offered, getting up. He stopped to put his shirt back on, struggling with his bandaged arm. Doctor Myra helped him. "I don't want to be indiscreet, but is it true that you're married?"

"A year next week," Gladio smiled. "If she hasn't dumped me."

"Urgh, I don't envy you at all."

Oscar was of his word, because a few minutes later – Gladio had to work hard not to fall asleep again while Dr. Myra visited him – he heard familiar voices outside the infirmary door.

"Do you want to go alone?"

"No. If I go alone, I'll break his face."

He heard Adrian and Prompto laugh and bit the inside of his mouth, troubled. He had behaved like a stupid rookie, had deviated from a mission without notifying the head of his camp or anyone else, and had endangered a team that had to go out to look for him. That the chief was his wife and that three quarters of the team were his friends, was irrelevant.

Silia entered. She looked unharmed, but he noticed instantly that she wasn't moving as quickly as usual.

"What have you done?" he asked.

"I strained my back."

"How?"

"Weightlifting. How do you feel?"

"Good, I think," he replied.

"Thank goodness. Now I can beat the shit out of you," she snapped, slapping him on his leg. Despite the morphine, Gladio felt a crazy pain radiating to his groin.

"Shit, Silia, what the fuck!" he complained.

"Shut the hell up! They'll splint it tomorrow. That and your arm. At least six weeks of forced rest await you."

"Minimum," Ignis said. His lips were so tight that they looked like a white line. "Silia told us what you were doing in Pitioss. You are unqualifiable."

Gladio wished he had gone back to sleep. He sighed. "Guys, don't get mad. I didn't have a good time."

"Didn't you have a good time?" Prompto lashed at him. "We've been waiting for you for twenty-four hours. We combed the Ravatoghan Trail and then we had to go back to the sick carousel that is the Pitioss Ruins."

"I didn't mean to go so far down. Spiracorns were in the upper levels. But the floor broke down."

"Gladio, the Marshal is also quite pissed off, just so you know," Adrian snorted too. "He said he alarmed all Lucis and that he hopes you have a damn good reason to have disappeared."

Silia rewarded him with a killer look. "We haven't told him yet. If he knows what you were doing, he'll kick your ass off the Sworn Swords."

"Tell him what you want." He was starting to get irritated as well. "How long will you make me feel guilty 'bout this story?"

"As long as necessary," replied Ignis. "But actually, you've already punished yourself enough."

"Oh, guys, I said I'm sorry," he snapped. "It won't happen again. But shit, for once I want to surprise my wife, and I risk getting myself killed. Can you tell me at least if those damned helixhorns are whole?"

"They're whole," replied Silia. "I was about to throw them to the bottom of a crevasse, but I didn't want to waste such a precious material. Cid will reforge my sword while you will stay here waiting for your bones to heal."

"Here? Are you kidding me?"

"No sir. It will take at least two weeks for you to be able to travel again, and none of us can stay here to waste any more time. Adrian and Xandra will take care of you."

"Yeah, time will come to start counting, Hartwood," Adrian pointed out. "One team out to comb the Ravatoghan Trail and another one the next day to comb the area from here to Old Lestallum, not to mention the medical car out for hours waiting for you at the entrance of Pitioss. More, the equipment we have provided you with. The medical treatment for Gladio. Now we'll also have to support him for at least two weeks."

Gladio opened his mouth wide. "That's not funny, Adrian."

"Good, because I'm not kidding at all."

"Adrian, listen to this," Silia told him. "Would you accept eight helixhorns as payment?"

V

He was in a delirious state when they had found him and then carried him out of Pitioss, but he recognized the cowboy hat. It was ridiculous, but Gladio was rather inclined not to point it out too loudly, since he too had owned one, in Insomnia, not too many years before, and he was very proud of it.

"Hey, man! Rohan!" he called him, waving his right hand. His ribs creaked and he put his arm down with a grimace.

Kamal Rohan returned the greeting. He was cheekily handsome but, rather than annoying him, it amused him. Not to mention that he had saved his ass. He had done it for Silia, but he still had saved his ass.

"Hey," Kamal replied, joining him in front of the infirmary, with that kind of casual smile between young males who recognize their mutual worth and don't want to step on each other's feet. "Yard time, Gladio? I'm happy to see that you're fine. If you'll allow me, since Hartwood told me that we are the same age, I'll call you by your name."

"Be my guest, Kamal," he replied, holding out his good hand.

Kamal squeezed it. Sturdy hold, a bit intimidating. Gladio would have wanted to respond in the same way, but he could not clench his fist too much due to his ribs. "Already on your feet? But I'd have expected nothing less from he who defeated the Blademaster in a duel."

Gladio made a face. "Not really standing. Anyway, I may also have defeated Gilgamesh, but I was going to die for a stroke of bad luck. The floor collapsed under my feet."

"It also happened to me and Hartwood while we were looking for you. Pitioss falls apart, too bad. From what I have seen, it's truly majestic. I've fallen in love with the Solheim ruins."

"I wouldn't call Pitioss majestic. It's more… sick. Have you ever been to Steyliff?"

"Last year," he replied promptly. "Beautiful. But Pitioss has its charm. I'm happy to have insisted with Hartwood to enter, even if it was a toil. It was the most exciting experience in my life, but don't tell her, she'll punch me. In fact, she already did, while we were down there," he said, pointing to the yellowish bruise on his cheekbone.

"Welcome to the club. We all have bruises. She slapped me on my fractured leg. I think if I hadn't been dying when you found me, it wouldn't have gone so smoothly for me."

They remained silent for a few seconds, a complicit moment.

"Kamal, did you hit on my wife and she punched your face?"

"Who? Me?" he replied, blatantly indignant. "No. The punch was for not having listened to her as we walked into the ruins. You can rest assured, Gladio. I know many men who'd give a kidney to have the Coeurl's nails on their back, but none who'd like to be in your shoes."

Again, that brazenness, instead of annoying him, amused him. There was just one person in the world who managed to arouse something very similar to a feeling of jealousy in Gladio, and it was certainly not that young man with a pretty face and a silver tongue. "Kamal, don't let go of your tongue too much just because I'm in plaster."

Kamal threw his head back and laughed. "Well, Gladio," he said. "It was a pleasure, but now I've to go."

"Are you leaving already?" he asked, pointing to his bag.

"Yup, they await me at the Meldacio HQ. Don't tell Hartwood, but I've left a few tasks hanging I had taken on and now I've to get them done quickly."

"I haven't thanked you yet, Kamal."

"Don't do it. No offense, Gladio, I'm happy to see you standing, but we don't know each other. I did it for Hartwood."

"It doesn't matter. You saved my life, and I always pay my debts. I don't let my wife pay them."

"Hartwood doesn't have to pay me any debt," he specified. "She taught me stuff I never dreamed of in Orior that saved my life many times, not to mention how she managed the mission at Insomnia. I should save her other husbands to be even."

"Be that as it may, if you're ever in need, Kamal, give me a shout."

"Who knows?" he asked, winking at him. "See you soon, Gladio. I've already said goodbye to her, but remind Hartwood that if she needs me, she knows where to find me."