Diarmuid stood with her cloaked in his arms for some time. While she huddled against him, he observed her lack of injury. All that looked at him from the torn parts of her shirt and pants was light, unscathed skin. They had healed her.. it seems.

A few beats later, her trembling finally ceased, but the dulling of her stare remained.

She gave him a quick squeeze, then Haley pulled away. Her stare was fixated on that note that had Egan laughing, and she finally braved to look at it. Heavily walking over, she knelt and lifted the crumpled piece of paper. She began to unravel it, as Diarmuid leered over her shoulder,

"What is this from?"

She stopped, half way, debating if she earned the right to read the final message given to them before their deaths, and shook her head.

"A sponsor message... it was given to them along with the explosive." She said, finally unfurling the paper. Her fingers shook, reading the solemn message.

You will die. Have Haley give the bomb to Armenia before you do, or take everyone with you.

To a dying man.. what kind of alternatives were those.. ? The tears stung her eyes again. That was his opportunity to end her. He had no obligations to her in his last moments, but in those very few seconds he made a choice. There was no outcome where he and Armenia came out alive... so he laughed and gifted her the weapon, and let herself live. She crumpled the stupid message.

There had to be a way for the sponsors to heal him. If it were possible to seal the Observer's damage... his wounds should have been child's play. They were mocking him, and using his desperation as another form of entertainment. They wanted to see what a hopeless man, facing death, would do and in his defining last moments, he refused to the horrid decision. He laughed at their cruelty instead. He... was a damn good man, and she was not deserving of his kindness.

Because she let him die.

Diarmuid's sudden rustling diverted her attention from the despair boiling in her mind. He retrieved the unfamiliar sword and began carving something in the dirt without a word,

"What are you doing?" Haley mumbled, tilting her head to track the path in the grime of earth that spelled out the names in the slip she tossed away.

"Honoring them," He said simply, "It is small, and the Arena will lose their names as quickly as they were written, but we shall not forget."

Their gazes found each other, and she nodded at his kindness. He didn't even know them, but still.. he gathered probably as much as she did if not enough from the message. In whatever despair he knew she felt, he was trying to give what he could...

Haley traced the names etched in the dirt, pinning her strained stare on the last bits of them that would ever exist.

Finally, she said under a shallow breath, "Thank you..."

"Come, we should not be in the open much longer, and I have to retrieve our bag." Diarmuid said, gently palming her shoulder.

She followed alongside him in quiet. Competing emotions sparked around her mind. Anger. Sadness. Uncertainty.

There was a root that grew longer with each passing moment if it were possible to save Diarmuid's soul. The entire pace back, she kept her eyes glued to the dirt beneath her feet, only sparing a glance to make sure she wouldn't collide with the decorations of the forest. Now, she looked to the man beside her, debating.

Should she tell him? What if his good nature would tell her to give up on him? Would he preach that if there was no way to truly save him, she should remove herself from the competition? Or would he keep the idea in the closet, as they saw the rest of the tournament through?

Alternatively, would he not care and remain by her side like Egan wished to be with his wife? She felt heat rush to her face and shot her glance to the dawn. Even if he did wish her to stay, it wasn't in that kind of way. Still.. when she was infiltrated by that demon...

They reached the bag and Diarmuid slugged it over his shoulder. His Master was still having some sort of internal battle. Would or should he pry? In respect of her conflicting emotions, he remained silent, their meander back. Guilt and remorse were nasty things clawing at his conscience. If only he was successful in exorcising that demon. It was because of his failure that she had undergone the loss of her allies.

The continued dead air was baiting him. He had to unlock the rigid coldness that was in her bleak expression from her feet, "My La-"

The world began to tremor. The Arena's quakes had Haley shifting on each foot to stay clear of the ground. The sound of pavement cracking dropped Haley's eyes to the ground that began to split underneath her swaying stature. Leaves rustled in a howling wind, and a branch so large snapped to a fall, separating her from Diarmuid.

Diarmuid drove his legs over the division and snatched his Master's legs over his arms and cradled her head before the trunk behind them hugged the dirt. Her arms encased his neck in them while the city shredded behind them. Glass cried out as a car alarm blared. Stone and grass up heaved and a few screams were drowned out by the collapsing Arena.

Crunching of trees accompanied by the floor widening its mouth to swallow the last pieces of their surroundings. Watching enemies get sucked into black voids that accumulated in the rush.. Haley couldn't believe this was how they would switch the Arena around. She clutched Diarmuid tightly, so he could stab the sword into the ground before the dislodging cliff sucked them into it. Empty blackness stared up at their dangling legs.

"Holyyy shiiiiit," Haley screeched, while what left of the madness refocused around them.

Blistering cold slapped her cheek, and the freezing wind was the least of her worries. They remained hanging, but instead of the sword being lodged in darkness, it was impaled in the decomposing snow of the mountain underneath it.

Diarmuid grit his teeth, eyes shifting from the tundra around them and the fall that would end both of them. Already, his mind drank the information of his surroundings, formulating the best course of action. Calming the skittish lady his first priority, "My Lady... I know you needn't hear this.. but in case you do.." He adjusted his grip on her waist as she buried her face deeper into his neck, "Do not let go."

"Please tell me you have a plan!" The wind took her voice with it, as Diarmuid smirked humorously,

"Do I not always?"

Now was not the time for teasing, but to say she didn't appreciate his playfulness was a damn understatement.

The blade began to slide as it was not meant to pierce a mountain nor handle their combined weight while doing so, "My Lady, I still have a knife in my left pocket.. I ask of you to grab it."

She nodded to his simple direction, squinting from the blinding snow. Slinking down his torso just enough as wind scraped against her. She dug in his pocket for the piece of cutlery and brought it into her rattling hands.

Instructing her to climb to his shoulders, she needed to try to plant the blade as close to the sword's as possible. She heaved, and dragged herself above him, careful not to use his head as leverage. She smacked the knife into the ice, and it crunched underneath it. She repeated the motion, trying not to snap the fragile end, until the knife dug into the mountain's resilient base.

She slipped down to his belly as the swords edge slouched a bit further, threatening to drop them in seconds. Now that his hand was dangling instead of clutching his Master, and she held tight - Diarmuid latched onto the handle and pulled it free and stabbed a bit lower. He pulled hand under hand, wedging the two blades in the cliff side, and dragging them to a long descent to the bottom. Going up would have been frivolous and arduous in their condition.

Underneath the peak, he spied deep snow on the surface of land underneath a crevice. He rocked his lower half back and forth, and yanked the sword out as they both sprawled across the snow. Standing up, and pulling Haley with him, he glances at the peak. There were other grey, snow and ice covered mountains spread far and wide. The wind blew harshly, but still, the sun peaked out from the smoky clouds. He let out a breath that was easily visible.

Now that the adrenaline left his system, he felt the effects of the arctic against his thin jumper. In body, he was susceptible to wounds that mimicked the effects they would carry, but now, he seemed only slightly bothered by the frigid weather. The unsettling matter was his Master who was turning a very painful red.

"Diar..muid... I'm freezing..." Haley said, pulling her arms into her short sleeves to hide them in her t- shirt. Trying to keep her blood flowing, she bounced in place.

Determined to avoid repeating the events that transpired when they had first met, Diarmuid unraveled buttons of his jumpsuit. Curiosity and slight confusion watched him as he untied the strings of his boots. Kicking off the cheap material, wet snow sinking into his ankle socks, he stepped out of the orange suit.

In secret observation, Haley watched his rigid body unfold. She had seen the toned build of his chest, and the abs that sculpted his abdominal area in a clean fashion, but it stopped there. Now, the lines from his pelvis teased her from the hemline of his underwear, and the round outline in his briefs scolded her to cast her gaze to the fluffy white her feet sunk into.

It was relieving when he stepped behind her to spread the suit open, and drape it over her shoulders. She stepped into the fabric that was a bit longer than she was, but thankfully their difference in height was only by a few inches. Diarmuid was helping her tuck the length of the pants into her boots since her hands huddled underneath the clothing. He even buttoned her from the waist up, anything to keep her from exposing her skin to the cold, he said. Her hair was pulled into his hands, and he patted the snow from it and wrapped it around her neck like a scarf.

"A-a-are.. you.. -n-not cold?" She felt so terrible, keeping her sight at eye level to avoid any discomfort for either of them from his bareness. She glimpsed a shudder or two across his shoulder blades and worried he would be stricken by the cold.

"I barely feel it, my Lady. I worry more for you... " He surveyed the ripped cloth where the demon previously melted the sleeve off. That god awful moment was still fresh in his memory, "We.. should keep moving."

The watch hummed, and it displayed a hologram that beamed from her chest, since her arms were folded there. It was a temperature of 10 degrees and in even smaller text underneath it, it read,

The temperature is controlled by the Hosts. Objective: Find a place to keep warm.

She let out a breath that puffed in the atmosphere in front of her. Now they were giving them objectives? Or was that just a warning they were going to lower it even more? Her eyes explored the mountain ledge. Walls of rock and ice, a small path that curved around the mountain with a few wooden planks, and pine trees that layered the surroundings. Just how high up were they?

Her teeth clinked together, even with Diarmuid's clothes over her own, it was still light and thin. The torn and shredded parts allowed in cold sweeps of air. In Diarmuid's way of helping, he remained at her backside, and stroked up and down the lengths of her sides to keep friction going to retain heat. She remained jittery, trying to do just the same.

The snow was an endless blanket of white stretching far and wide. It was only accompanied by the stray tree, and towering rocks on the sides. At least there was no tracking their travels, since every step appeared and disappeared just as quickly from the current of snow. The wind dusted them so harshly, they remained huddled against another not to lose sight of the other.

Haley's traction was slowing. Her head was bobbing, fighting to stay awake. She began rocking forward, and her body refused to stop shaking. She had hoped that constantly moving would be enough.. but.. the redder her cheeks got instead, accompanied by her dry, splitting lips.

"My Lady.. there is a cave," Diarmuid said, turning her slightly, "Hang on just a bit longer."

A rocky formation that led to the cave in the walls of the mountainside welcomed her. It was a daunting task to climb them, being that she could barely feel her limbs, but alas, her Knight let her crawl on his back. She gripped the plainness of his chest, and pressed herself firmly against him. He was freezing to the touch, and she still was not comprehending how this didn't bother him. Maybe it just felt worse because the weather was intensifying the natural coolness he always had.

Still..

It pained her. His body had reminders everywhere of his troubled past and hardships. The very things that led him to his untimely demise not once - but twice. Each time, the person he had faith in, and trusted, giving him the finger. She saw his memories and felt his despair as clearly as he did every time she dipped into the curse healing. His soul was hurting immeasurably each time faced with betrayal and he blamed himself.

Now he was a semblance of death, and she, despite her efforts, might be very powerless to changing that. If what Egan assumed was true... She tensed, squeezing the pectoral muscles underneath her palms. All of this... all of this is for nothing.

In the tunnel hidden inside the mountain, Diarmuid felt her squeeze. He turned his head, worried for the woman who still seemed lost in remorse. Her eyebrows pushed together, accompanied by a gaze hollow and unfocused. She pressed him so tightly, It was as if he were to disappear if she let go.

He sat on the ice that froze over the rocky formation of the cave, still leaving the Lady huddled over his shoulder, "My Lady.. you should rest here.. while I retain some wood from those trees scattered about."

She shook her head and clenched so tight her fingers felt like they'd snap, "Don't go..."

His breath went out. What was troubling her so deeply? He placed his hand comfortingly over the two that snared him against her, "It will only be for a short while."

In a day's span, which she considered a small time, she was helpless to do anything for the allies that died helping her. If he left into the blistering cold - who knows what enemies would attack him, too. If they were anything like the menacing demon, or the soul that could control ice.. how would he fair? No, she didn't want him to risk himself, anymore. Not when the Arena did such cruel things to its participants, like leaving a damn death note. "Please stay... I-I am.. f-fine."

Only she was not. Her broken voice carried in the echoes of the cave. He knew this. Hadn't he felt so shamelessly broken before? He wanted desperately to stay and give her the condolences she needed to be better but...

She was dangerously stricken with frost and rigorously shaking. Her emotional comfort needed to wait until he could build as much heat to save her from the hypothermia that threatened to strike them a second time.

He gently pulled her hands from him and slid her to the ground. He turned to her and gripped those trembling hands in his, "I cannot, but I shall return. I swear it, my Lady."

Her lip quivered as those glassy eyes tore him apart. What was ever the matter? Indeed something must have happened while they were separated. Was the death of those two so overbearing? He had imagined she was stricken by the first time seeing those die before her.. however this stained reaction felt there was more to it than he knew.

He would be okay, right? There was no way he would let what she allowed happen to Armenia and Egan plague them, too. He would come back, arms full of wood topped with snow that melted into his hair. Then, they would huddle by the fire she knew he knowledgeably would make. They would wait out the storm, and have two to four days remaining to see the stadium filled with souls engaged in their damn tournament..

The stupid challenge that would either sink his soul into the depths of hell or save him in some way. They were to go their own ways, then.. But until that destined day - she wanted him to be safe. To remain by her side as she did for him. Her hand trembled to his cheek and brought his forehead to hers, "I-I don't want to l-lose you. So p-please be careful."

Her voice was like glass, sharp and broken. He was.. just going to collect logs for a fire. Sure, an ordeal or two may surface but she would not lose him. She had always worried for his safety, but this felt a little extreme.

"Of course." He debated for a second, to sink a bit lower. Even chapped, and losing color, her lips still called for him to meet them. Assure her he would stay and be alright.

He grappled with the urge, and just gave her his best, reassuring smile. He couldn't. He was unsure of her feelings for him, but assumed they weren't mutual. That this episode she was having would pass with a little more comfort and conversation. They... were two different beings after all and he was but a fool to think otherwise.

She let her hands drop, and pulled them back underneath her shirt to look limbless once more. She couldn't keep him hostage here.. that might bring about the end she feared, too. The couple previously thought they were safe stationed in a single spot - until they weren't. Until the enemy found a way through the barricades they put up and ended them just as quick.

"When I return, we shall talk.. I fear you have things you have yet to tell me." He said, there was dulled silence that grabbed his attention, and he almost missed the tiny nod she gave him in response. He pat the top of her head.

He hesitated, as if he was to push further, but Haley kept her focus on the chipped ground. She knew he was gone when the footsteps that lingered further away disappeared into the wind

There were a plethora of things to tell him. The question was if she was going to be able to. All she wanted to do was stand by a soul's side and offer them her abilities to help them in a contest of their own strength. Heal the curse that embedded itself deep within that person's being. Not this. Not get attached to that very person, and lean on him in ways she did no other. Not this masterful manipulation that was this tournament of lies.

Hell, saying that.. Egan easily could of been lying himself. He might have planted the seeds to overgrow and clog her judgement. For what purpose, though? Even when he spoke, the intentions never leaked such a thing. It was paranoia and hope that was a rushing current in her thoughts.

It was because she hoped he was brain washing her, that she knew there was some sort of truth in his words. Whether or not he was right, was still the problem. Could the reason they allowed him to be eliminated so easily was because the Hosts and Sponsors did not want him spreading the rumor further?

Damn it all. She buried her face into the knees she raised, the scent of Diarmuid lingering on his jumper. She should never of let him leave. If what she thought was true - That would mean... they were next.

She peeked at the whining exit, her shivering getting the better of her. Should she go after him? No... that would be pointless because just like with Armenia and Egan, there would be nothing she could do. She would remain a helpless little damn maiden... and the thought of that made her sink. She was strong, and her mental prowess could easily save Diarmuid...

Thinking that way.. the abilities other Detainers had were probably capable of doing the same thing. The fact they were to be useless and trapped here until the round's end even if their friends died protecting them... was it their plan to make it more impossible to reach the goal? Were they doing that because of the impossibility of the reward if they won? Were they finding ways to get rid of them...? If that were their intent.. All she thought in that moment was one damn thing.

The damn Hosts could go to Hell, too.