Hellawes, Zaveid thought, would be a lot less tolerable if the inn didn't have a sauna.

It was a few months after that first heavenly kiss with Lucine, a few months after he'd sat her and Sahra down and, for the second time in his life, told the story of his greatest sin. Their breaktime was over now, and they'd set out to tell the world the story of Kuksedra a second time; Glenwood was done being told the story twice from two different sources (they had decided to split into pairs, Zaveid with Lucine and Sahra with Niko, though they always met back up for the ocean voyage when they left the continent), and the next day, they would board a ship from the port city of Hellawes to take them across the seas to the far continent and everywhere in between. Luckily, courses had been charted to all the inhabited lands in recent decades, and with their seraphic powers and determination, those who had escaped the skypulse would have no trouble getting where they needed to go.

Doing what needed to be done, however, wasn't so easy - Zaveid cast a long, sustained series of illusory artes to illustrate the story every time Lucine told it, just as Edna had told him he needed to do, and it never stopped being exhausting for him, never stopped leaving him sore and drained of vigor. The late Squire, Sadie, had once mentioned that the point of saunas was to purge the muscles of toxins, and though Zaveid wasn't made of flesh, it was as good a chance at fixing himself up as any. Thus, night found him lounging alone in the sauna of the Hellawes inn, using the place for its actual intended purpose. It was soothing, he was noticing, the soreness slowly sweating itself out of him…

A sudden sound from the girls' sauna caught his attention, a sound he recognized even through the walls: laughter. Not just any laughter, but the bubbling-brook laughter of Lucine.

Lucine. Hot and sweaty and wet and naked, and just a few feet away from him.

Zaveid clenched his teeth. Though Lucine had continued to kiss him even after learning his darkest secret, she had never let him go further than that - he had asked, plenty of times, with either a word or a touch, but she always made it clear that she wasn't willing, and he always let it go. There were certain lines even he refused to cross, after all…but it was getting painfully frustrating, to want her and not be allowed to have her, though he knew full well he was lucky she even still kissed him now that she knew what he was. That brief glimpse he'd gotten of her back during the squirrel incident tormented him when he was alone, and he yearned to know exactly what she was always hiding under that painfully modest dress of hers.

And now he could know. She was right there, nearby and naked, and he was a wind seraph. The wind would tell him the exact shapes of her body, if he asked it to. But he was trying to be better for her…

Heat rose within him, far stronger than the steamy warmth of the sauna. Cringing, he instinctively reached to his side for the little Phoenix plushie Edna had given him for situations like this, only to find nothing but the edge of the towel wrapped around his waist - he'd left his weapons, hat, and the plushie in his room for fear that the damp might damage them.

Of course, there was always something else in the vicinity he could squeeze, if he felt so inclined…

For all his hedonism, Zaveid had never pleasured himself before - to him, that kind of thing was pathetic and sad, he would have the real thing or nothing at all. But after nearly four years of not getting any action, and now with Lucine's bare body separated from him by only a thin wall that the wind could easily penetrate, he could almost see the appeal. She wouldn't let him have his way with her, and it wasn't like he was forcing himself on her…and he hadn't strayed, despite all the temptation, he'd been good…he'd earned himself a little indulgence just this once…right…?

Dizzy with desire, his seraphic blood molten and boiling in his veins, there was no stopping his arousal from manifesting. Somehow, he still managed to fight with himself, fight with the temptation to spy on the girls' sauna - as much as he lusted, he'd recently come to develop another instinct that now seemed to run even deeper: protect her. He'd vowed never to hurt her, and he didn't break his promises…but he wouldn't be hurting anyone if he just took a quick peek with his winds, it wasn't like he was assaulting her, she'd never even know…Then again, the fact that Lucine was laughing meant Sahra had probably joined her…but the fire seraph was young, maybe she wouldn't be able to sense his winds or figure out how to burn them away like Lailah had that one time…

It was too hot, too tempting, and he'd starved himself for too long; he couldn't take it. Surrendering to his desires, Zaveid conjured a slight wind-

Suddenly, a noise at the door to the guys' sauna gave Zaveid a moment's notice that someone else was about to come in. Alarmed, he wrestled himself down, just soon enough that the human who'd come to enjoy the warmth wouldn't see what he'd almost been up to. Flushing from multiple sources of heat, Zaveid stood up abruptly and walked out of the room, leaving the human alone without saying a word. Still burning, Zaveid yanked on his pants and boots, strode out of the inn, and dove headfirst into a nearby snowdrift, praying that the ice might sink through his skin and cool his molten blood.

Slowly, very slowly, the scalding lust subsided, and after several minutes, conscious thought returned…and when it did, one thought suddenly came to him like a stone thrown at his head:

What the hell am I doing?!

Since when did he of all people restrain himself? Not just today, but ever since he'd come back from the skypulse - he hadn't enjoyed a woman once since they'd come back, instead spending all his time trying to woo a girl who very clearly would never let him have his way with her. Why? Did he think he loved her, or ever could love her? No, he wasn't that delusional. Did he think he deserved her, or ever could deserve her? No, of course he didn't think any of those things, he knew what he was! Was it because he'd promised not to hurt her? What harm would it really do her if he accepted the friendzone and moved on, when she wouldn't have him? Was it because Edna's last request had been for him to be with her? Well, he had only promised the earth seraph that he would try, and he had tried, a hell of a lot more than someone like him should have been able to.

Emerging from the snow pile at last, Zaveid's mind was clear. He was done, he wasn't going to try to be good anymore - after all, it was pointless anyway. As Edna had requested, he'd tried, and that would have to be enough for her.

He stormed into his room and gathered his things: necklace, weapons, hat, doll. The little plushie gave him a moment's pause; he could almost see Edna scowling at him through the vacant, lifeless face.

Sorry, babe.

Shaking his head, he tied the doll to his belt and left the room he'd paid for, determined to spend a night on the town. Hellawes was relatively fresh territory for him, there had to be dozens of human women here he hadn't had a chance to seduce yet, and humans liked the cold even less than he did. Confident that he wouldn't sleep alone tonight, Zaveid strode down the hall and turned for the exit-

"Zaveid?"

That voice, the one voice he didn't want to hear just then, froze him in his tracks. Though he tried to fight it, he couldn't resist turning around to look at Lucine.

She was still flushed, her hair glistening with damp; though she was dressed, her spear was elsewhere, probably in her room - she must have just gotten out of the sauna moments ago herself. As soon as their gazes met, her eyes widened, and she took a few steps closer to him.

"What's wrong?" she asked worriedly. "Zaveid, you're in so much pain right now…what happened?"

That damn blessing. "Nothing," he answered. "Nothing happened." And that's exactly the problem, he added silently.

She shook her head. "Something is wrong," she said, "you can't tell me otherwise." She bit her lip, then asked, "Is there anything I can do to help?"

You can make love to me, that's what you can do! "No," he answered out loud. "No, there's nothing."

"Zaveid…" Her eyes were soft and tender as she reached up with one hand and gently touched her fingertips to his cheek.

That one touch ignited Zaveid's blood all over again, hotter than it had ever been; some distant, rational corner of his mind barely managed to send up a prayer of thanks to Kuksedra that he didn't erupt into a dragon right then and there before he grabbed Lucine by the shoulders and slammed her against the nearest wall, claiming her mouth with hungry, demanding kisses. She gave a startled exclamation against his mouth, then kissed him back, tangling her fingers in his long hair. He'd taught her how it was done in the months since they'd first crossed this threshold, and he reaped the benefits now, his body burning as their tongues danced, teeth clicking together, breathing, taking, demanding.

So far so good. Maybe this would really be it. Daring to hope, Zaveid let his hands wander down to her hips, grabbing her ass experimentally to see how she'd react.

She stiffened, her kisses subsiding as she pulled away from him slightly.

Absolutely fed up, Zaveid growled, nipping her lower lip before lifting his mouth from hers just enough to speak. "Enough," he ground out, his voice rough. "Enough playing coy. Come to bed with me, angel. Now."

Rather than react as he'd hoped, she just struggled against him harder, whimpering.

Taking a deep breath, Zaveid kissed her again, more slowly now, letting his tongue wander around the inside of her mouth sensually, his hands rising to hold her back and caress her face. "You'll enjoy it," he murmured between kisses. "I promise. I know what I'm doing. I'll make it good for you."

At this, he ground his hips against hers, no longer trying to suppress his desires. She gasped as his arousal jabbed at her lower abdomen, and was that a hint of desire he heard in her breath?

"Come on," he coaxed, kissing her harder, coming up only to speak a few words at a time. "Lemme show you…what I can do. Lemme take you down…and bring you to ecstasy…"

Lucine shifted in his arms, her palms against his chest, and she pushed at him as hard as she could. Surprised, he found himself forced back slightly, and she looked up at him, her violet eyes sparking with determination that didn't quite mask her fear.

"No," she said firmly.

Zaveid clenched his jaw tightly, eyes screwed shut, just barely managing to fight down the urge to scream. What do you want from me?! he wanted to roar at her. What more could I possibly give for you?! What more could I possibly do to prove to you that I'm serious about us?!

Furious, he reached down and throttled the little nor doll dangling from his belt, so forcefully it was a genuine miracle that the seams holding the plush's head in place didn't burst apart. Zaveid had never felt such intense desire for one specific person in his life, and he was tempted, as he had never been before, to just disregard her objections and have her anyway. But he wouldn't, couldn't, cross that line. Sinner though he was, he wasn't a monster, or at least not that kind of monster…

Slowly, painfully, he wrestled his lust back down - it physically hurt to restrain himself, but she'd left him with no other real choice. It must have been several minutes before he even trusted himself to open his eyes again, but when he did, she was still standing there against the wall, her own eyes wide and wary. Breathing hard, he opened his mouth and tried to speak. Couldn't. Cleared his throat and tried again.

"…Okay," he managed at last.

Lucine blinked in what looked like surprise, and it crossed Zaveid's mind to be mildly offended. "I…I'm sorry," she began.

"No, no," he told her, "don't be sorry. It's your choice, babe."

Obviously, that wasn't what she was apologizing for, but she didn't correct him. Didn't speak.

Just walk away, Zaveid told himself. Walk away. She won't have you, there's no reason to not have fun with someone who will. Just walk away.

Both seraphim stood frozen; try as he might, Zaveid couldn't move.

Walk away, he thought to himself again, harder. Give up, like you always do; run away, like the coward you are. It's all you're good at, you know that much. You don't deserve her, and she won't have you; the least you can do is walk away.

Just walk away.

…Just walk away…

Why wasn't he walking away? Why did it feel like he was rooted in place, unable to move a muscle? Whatever the reason, he stood right where he was, even when Lucine stepped closer to him, reached up, got on her tiptoes, and pressed a gentle kiss to his lips. It wasn't a kiss to say she'd changed her mind, he could tell that much; rather, it was a kiss meant to thank him for respecting her boundaries, and to let him know that, even if she wasn't ready to give him what he wanted, she still cared for him deeply.

Plink! Shudder.

Once again, that heavenly sensation of a droplet of life falling through the hollow void where his soul had been and splashing against all that remained of his heart, and those remains stirring in response, sent Zaveid into a euphoric daze. Only Lucine could bring him so close to feeling alive again…

He could walk away. He could give up on being hers, and go enjoy a night of empty pleasure with some nameless, faceless, meaningless woman. He could do that every night, he could spend the rest of his life indulging in meaningless one-night stands, making good use of the resonance that had spread across the world more than two decades prior and showing every human woman he found a good time - and there were so many! - just as he had before his human nephew had become the Shepherd. But if he did that, Lucine would never kiss him again - even if she tried to, he wouldn't let her, that would be the least he could do.

A lifetime of meaningless pleasure, or a chance to kiss Lucine again; those were his choices, and he couldn't have both. And if he had to choose one, and only one…he would choose Lucine.

The sudden realization shocked him enough that he stumbled away from Lucine, breaking the kiss, staring at her with wide eyes as it all fell into place. He wasn't here because he thought he deserved her or ever could, or because of any promises he'd ever made; he was here because he wanted to be. He struggled with it for a moment…then surrendered. Somehow, against all odds, Lucine had tethered the wind, and he didn't want to be free. There was no point in fighting it; he wasn't just attached, he was trapped, and there was no way out.

They looked at each other for a long minute as Zaveid slowly, resignedly, gave up. This was his life now, and he couldn't escape…and somehow, accepting that brought him a sort of peace, his frustration burning out as he settled into his cage. Trapped…but glad for it.

"…Zaveid…" Lucine finally said slowly. "I…I don't understand what's happening, but…I…I'm glad you feel better."

He chuckled humorlessly. "Yeah, well, that makes one of us," he sighed.

She didn't understand, clearly had no idea what she'd done to him. But maybe that was for the best.

He bent down to kiss her quickly. "Good night, angel," he told her, and he headed back to his room.

"Good night," she called after him, her voice uncertain.

Off came his personal items again; dressed only in his pants, Zaveid rolled onto his bed, alone. He would always sleep alone, unless Lucine decided to give it up. Maybe she never would. But even if she didn't, he wasn't going to enjoy any more parties, he would just be alone.

He could always get himself off, if he really wanted to.

But he wouldn't. He'd given up his heart and his soul, and now he'd even given up his freedom, but he still had his pride.

Important note to any men in the audience (and any women, too, to be fair): There is ABSOLUTELY NOTHING shameful or sad about masturbating. Zaveid just strikes me as the type of person with the kind of man-pride that would lead him to think that way, and man-pride is a fault of his, not a strength (or at least it is in most cases). ALSO, it's KINDA-SORTA an oblique homage to OG Eizen's first cooking skit in Tales of Berseria: "Everything I try to flip rights itself in midair, automatically landing on the cooked side." "Just use a spatula!" "No. I still have my pride."