The promise of Hal's safe return was the only thing keeping him going. He pulled dead, dry wood from the destroyed huts, refusing to think of who had died within them. He kept a fire going, wrapping Hal in his blanket, hoping the warmth would be enough to combat her waxy complexion and cold skin. The Sani seemed positive that she would be stronger in due time. But her appearance now told him otherwise.

He studied her features carefully. The Sani people had withdrawn after he had left, according to Invidia, and Hal had returned to her comatose state. They sought shelter in one of the huts that was still relatively intact to keep out of the sun. There was a decent-sized lake filled with fresh-water just of the edge of the village. Despite the evidence of what had happened here, Murtagh could see Halen growing up in a place like this. Surrounded by nature, the sun bright and cheery, the lake nearby for the children to play in. He hated that Galbatorix had ruined it.

He kept her as hydrated as he could. Thorn, bless him, found a hive not too far away, hiding in the corner of one of the huts, and Murtagh tore it down, letting the sweet nectar pass through Hal's lips so that she would have something on her stomach. He washed her skin, checked her heart, and did everything he could think to do to make sure she was comfortable. Invidia did not offer to help, as though realizing this was something he needed to do himself.

And if he wasn't caring for Hal, he was simply lying down beside her, pleading for her to wake. He feared, at first, touching her mind, not wanting the Sani to intrude on his thoughts either, not fully trusting them. But he eventually caved, wanting to reach her. Wanting to bring her back to the surface so that he could look into her eyes and know that she was okay.

Come back to me, Halen.

To me.

Please.

I need you.

I love you.

Please.

Come back.

He poured these thoughts into her every moment he could on the hope that they would reach her. His biggest fear was that she would slip away from him and never know that true extent of his feelings. That he had lost all that time and now, would lose her too.

He curled himself around her body, clinging to her, desperate and, for perhaps the first time in his life, daring to put stock in hope rather than despair. Please, Halen, he begged her. Don't leave me.

…

He didn't remember falling asleep, but he suddenly felt that his arms were empty and bolted upright. Hal was gone. Panic gripped him as he struggled to get to his feet, moving too quickly to find his balance and crashing into the wall. He ran outside, but did not have to look far at all.

Thorn was sitting at the edge of the lake. And standing beside him was Hal, her hand on his scales as if for support. He could see her swaying weakly from where he stood, but fear, a resistance to hope, kept him in his place.

As if sensing him, or perhaps Thorn told her, Hal slowly began to turn. He couldn't breathe, shaking. But when she was facing him, he saw the anguish and confusion in her face, and the relief in her voice when she cried his name.

He ran to her as she burst into tears. His eyes swam with tears of relief, of pain as she fell into his arms, holding onto him as tightly as he held onto her. He pulled away only to kiss her. Her lips, her cheeks, her jaw, her neck. And all the while she cried, apologizing over and over again.

Finally, he pulled away, holding her beautiful face in his hands. Halen. His Halen. "I heard you," she cried, her voice cracking. "Every word. I heard you. Say it again, please."

He smiled despite himself. "Halen." She nodded frantically, fresh tears spilling down her cheeks. "I love you." To see her face transform, to see that smile he adored so much light up her eyes. He was lost to her. Completely and utterly lost. "I love you, Hal," he said again. "I love you. I love you. I love —"

She cut him off with a kiss, sweet and tender. Her tears fell onto his cheeks. When she pulled back, she kept close, her nose just brushing against his. "I love you, too," she whispered. "Murtagh, I love you. So much."

It was not quite how he imagined it would be. But he had to admit, it was pretty damn close. He kissed her again, crying as she did with relief and joy, anguish and pain for what might have been. But she had come back. His Halen had come back.

When he finally pulled away, her face still in his hands, he felt his resolve crumble. "I thought I'd lost you."

She nodded. "I know —"

"Why did you leave?"

Guilt flashed in her eyes at how crushed he was to even say the words. And she had left him. Despite what the Sani had explained — despite her very real reason for feeling compelled to do so — didn't make it okay.

"I was trying to protect you," she replied, her voice low as if even she was unsure now. "I didn't know what else to do."

"You talk to me, Halen. You don't just run off on your own."

"You would have never let me leave," she cried indignantly.

"Obviously not, it nearly got you killed."

"Then what should I have done? I was desperate — and don't tell me you wouldn't have done the same thing if the roles were reversed."

"We could have found another way."

"And what way was that? If I had remained, I was all but promised your demise. The way back was blocked by the rocks the Sani didn't manage to stop and the other tunnels were crawling with Ra'zac. I would've met the same damn fate anyway."

"But I could have been with you. And Invidia. And Blödhgarm." And as he said the words, the rest of his anger finally reared its ugly head. "Dammit, Halen, you insist on doing everything on your own!"

He climbed to his feet, knowing he would need to distance himself from her before he lost his nerve. "You always do this," he continued. "You once insisted to me that we work together. You said that. And yet you are incapable of following your own advice and asking for help."

"I'm doing the best that I can with everything that's happened! I was made to feel like I had a split second to make a decision, and I made one."

"Well it was stupid decision," he hissed.

Her eyes widened. "You're such an —"

"Ass," he finished for her, completely unfazed by the insult at this point in their relationship. "I'm not the one who left after confessing. And this is the second time you have died in front of me. Do you have any idea how broken you made me feel?" He swallowed, his hands on his hips as he took a harrowing breath before he lost his nerve. He blinked back his tears before continuing. "To say those words to me, words I've always wanted to hear, and then just leave. What was I supposed to do, Halen? What would I have told the others if I had come back without you? And if the roles were reversed, you'd kill me for doing to you what you've done to me."

She looked stunned, completely at a loss for words. He could see how his words affected her, the remorse. But suddenly, her face became smooth. Apologetic, but not regretful, and he steeled himself thinking she meant to argue.

"That's fair," she admitted. "How you feel — your anger — it's all completely justified. It was selfish — I knew that. I just thought…if I'm going to die, I'd rather he know. It would've been my biggest regret, not telling you how I truly feel after keeping it to myself for so long." Despite his anger, the words rang pleasantly in his ears. How long was 'for so long'? But he made sure to keep his face composed. If he caved now, he'd never be able to argue with her again, regardless of how angry he was.

"But I won't apologize for what I did," she continued, her words dismembering any positive emotions she had just instilled in him. "I'm only sorry that I hurt you in the process."

He felt almost ill. "So what? You'll continue to put yourself in harm's way without consulting me and just…what? See how it goes? Hope you get lucky?"

"Don't talk down to me like I'm an idiot," she snapped.

"I'm not talking down to you; I'm trying to get you to actually think with a hint of self-preservation for once in your life!"

But Hal was already shaking her head. "Why can't you see that everything I'm doing I'm doing to protect the people I care about? If my life is forfeit, then fine. But I cannot and will not bury anyone else I love. Not as long as I am able and still draw breath."

Her words were almost more painful than her actions. The blunt, oblivious way in which she spoke of herself. Like she didn't matter. Like it would be nothing if she died so long as everyone else was alive. Regardless of what state she left them in, she'd rather they be broken then dead. And he realized then, just how dangerously deep her protective nature went, and just how much it scared him.

Hal looked concerned for him, and she reached out to take his hand. But Murtagh stepped away from her, not wanting the contact. Not wanting to cave in now, not when his mind was in such a disarray. She looked like he had slapped her, and his chest was tight. But now that she was safe, everything was starting to catch up to him. The confession that had stunned him for the briefest of seconds, his reply that he loved her too on the tip of his tongue before she suddenly turned and ran. Horror when the rocks came down, too fast for him to move, trapping them. Fury when he realized what she had done. Desperation to reach her, anguish when he thought he had been too late. The mind-numbing fear when he thought she would become a Shade, and he would have to be the one to kill her. And relief, joy, and love as he stood before her now. All these emotions meshed together in a manner that made his head ache. He didn't think he had ever felt so much at once.

"I need to be alone right now," he muttered, stepping past her. "Please, find something to eat and rest until I return."

…

Unsettling disbelief washed over her as she watched his retreating back as he walked along the edge of the lake. How did they go from crying and kissing to fighting in the span of a few seconds? She got to her feet, taking a step to follow after him, to demand they talk about this, but something in the stiffness of his shoulders stopped her. She figured he might be upset — but to walk away from her entirely? She had not seen him so…disappointed.

The weight of the word crushed her, tears of anger and frustration building until she blinked them back. She had been trying to help. For once, she thought she could protect others instead of always having to be protected, and now she couldn't even do that much.

Thorn was watching her carefully and she looked away before his gaze unsettled her further. "What? Are you going to lecture me now too?"

He cocked his head to the side. No, there is nothing to be said now that Murtagh has said his peace.

Then you agree with him?

Yes and no. He has made his fair share of split-second decisions without including me, so I know how he feels at the moment, and it's hard not to be sympathetic when — after he told me what you had done — I felt my own sense of panic at the thought of losing you too.

It was harder to feel right in her decision with each passing moment.

However, Thorn continued, you are also right in that this likely would have happened eventually, whether it would be the Ra'zac taking us by surprise or the Shade deciding to come find you itself. It takes a lot of courage to face your fears on your own terms to protect your loved ones. And Murtagh knows this, even if he doesn't like it. Because you are right: if he thought he had to do the same thing to protect you and the Tenari, he would've done it, no questions asked.

Then why is he so angry? I've never seen him like this. At least not with me.

His anger is familiar to him. It's been with him for so long. He is more comfortable with it than he is with the fear and desperation he felt the moment you fled. I think he's still sorting through his feelings for you.

That's extremely comforting and exactly what a woman hopes to hear.

Thorn laughed. I did not mean it like that — he loves you, Hal. Never doubt that. One day, I shall tell you of the conversations we shared just on the topic of his feelings for you. Her heart swelled with joy despite her despair. To hear Thorn say it — it wasn't that she doubted Murtagh, but knowing the dragon shared a mind with him, his words cemented the truth. It made her only want to run to Murtagh, beg for forgiveness, and kiss him. But she would not do that, at least not yet. But he is used to guarding his heart, Thorn continued. This is new to him, that is all. Do not fret, Halen. Knowing Murtagh, he will make it a whole eleven minutes before he finds his way back to you.

Hal felt a tad bit relieved at Thorn's jesting. "I'm sorry," she said aloud. "For hurting you. For leaving your rider. For bearing this weight on my own when all you have done is support me and be my friend. I never meant to cause you such distress. Please know I did it all because I love you, too, Thorn. I can't bear to lose you either."

He growled from the back of his throat as Hal wrapped her arms around his nose, laughing when they still did not manage to hug him properly. She felt like a child next to him, but the warmth of him and affection she felt across their own bond gave her peace. And the thought that she had almost lost this — this feeling of life in her blood — made her tear up once more.

I love you too, little one, Thorn said soothingly. And I am honored that my rider has chosen you as his mate…even if he is not quite acting like it at the moment.

Hal turned as Invidia approached, smiling kindly with a rabbit in her hand. They didn't speak at first. Even when Hal first woke up and Invidia saw her, all she said was, "I'll find you something to eat so that Murtagh may rest."

Now, as she prepared the rabbit, Hal could only say, "Thank you for doing this. I know you don't eat meat. And I know you don't like to kill."

"For you, this one time, I do not mind." Invidia smiled at her gently and Hal felt even lower. Was there anyone her actions had not upset?

Eleven minutes passed, and Murtagh continued to keep his distance. Thorn had joined him on the other side of the lake, and Hal could just barely make them out in the noonday sun.

As Invidia set her meal in front of her, Hal asked, "What happens now?"

The elf sighed. "You are not safe here or on Illium. We will have to figure out where you can go, but it is likely you will have to flee."

Hal stared in disbelief. "But, Illium is my home. I can't just —"

"Thea will show no mercy. You are you, but we must assume that you could still be turned. And we cannot give Thea any reason to go after your people."

Hal knew what she said was true. But to acknowledge that she would have to leave them? Refusing to cry, Hal slowly caved in, her hands beginning to shake with stress as she tried to appear nonchalant and nodded her head. "Where will I go?"

"I don't know yet. But we must act quickly, while Thea's defenses are down. We must be careful of your magic so that she does not use it to track you, a blindspot we would not have considered." As though seeing the fear in Hal's eyes, Invidia reached out and grabbed her hand. "You have been so brave already. Just be brave for a little bit longer. We will figure out how to stop her." Hal nodded. "Now eat, you need your strength."

Hal did as Invidia instructed, thinking quietly to herself. She felt no different. Didn't feel like hundreds of souls belonging to the people of her dead village were now residing within her. She frowned and looked up at Invidia.

"Is this all real?"

"You rather it be a dream? Or worse?"

"I don't know," Hal admitted. "It just…" she struggled to find the words.

"It's a lot to process," Invidia said sympathetically. "What you've endured…" She looked past Hal's shoulder, at what remained of the Sani village, and Hal flinched. "Finish your meal. The lake feeds into a small river not far from here — although, I'm sure you already know that. But you can bathe there. Perhaps getting cleaned up will do you some good. Help you clear your head."

It might, and Hal saw no other alternative but to agree with Invidia. She finished her meal and Invidia took the blanket and soap from Murtagh's bag that he had left behind. "Would you like for me to come with you?" Invidia asked.

Hal shook her head. "No. No, I think I should be alone for a bit. But thank you."

…

You're being stubborn.

I don't care, Thorn. I'm just trying to gather my thoughts and I cannot do that when she is near me.

You received a rare and fortunate chance to tell the woman you love how you feel and you're…moping on a lake? How, pray-tell, is that gathering your thoughts?

If you don't like it, you don't have to stay, Murtagh snapped, losing his patience.

If I was anyone else, I would take offense at your tone. But I hear the fear in it. You can lie to Halen. You can even lie to yourself. But you cannot lie to me.

Murtagh didn't respond.

I almost did not believe my eyes when I saw her either. I thought, surely, we cannot be so fortunate. She was so scared, as if she too thought it was all a dream. But she is real, and alive, and whole, and safe, at least for now. And she needs you more than ever. The weight she is carrying — the story she has told herself about her family, a lie. Her sister survived, and rather than live the life Hal was able to, she was taken and eventually forced to become a Shade. And you know as well as I that Hal will not let that slide without feeling some semblance of guilt. She just found out the truth about who she is and where her magic comes from — which changes everything we understand about the origins of magic and its capabilities. The souls of her village are right: Halen is in more danger than before.

"I'm not going to protect her any less. I don't love her any less, she is still Halen to me," Murtagh argued.

I know it. And Halen knows it. But perhaps, right now, you could continue to remind her of that. You can still be angry with her from much closer than the other side of a lake.

Murtagh kicked at the ground sullenly, hating that Thorn was right. It had been far too long. And had he not told himself that his time with Hal was precious? These last few hours all but proved that. And he just wanted her near. Even when he was angry, he would always want her near. He glanced up to where he last saw Invidia and Hal. He frowned, noticing the elf was by herself.

"Dammit."

He was panting by the time he reached the campsite. Invidia looked at him with a raised brow. "Where's Hal?'

"She went to the river nearby to wash up. Said she preferred to go alone — Murtagh?"

He had taken off, his nerves bad as he thought of what could happen to Hal on her own. The Shade could return, or the Ra'zac, or she could have some strange side effect from the spirits and be hurt and on her own.

Murtagh darted between the trees that had begun to grow and the remains of the huts. Nature had long since reclaimed the land, weeds and vines bursting through what had once been windows, climbing up the sides of the homes that had once been occupied by families. He dared not look too close, fearing what skeletons might yet still remain. But with that thought, he slowed to a stop.

He looked at the houses. Properly looked at them, trying to picture what they could have been like. How a ten-year-old like Halen would have seen a place like this. He thought of her mother, of how beautiful and happy she had been as she had wrapped her arms around her crying child in an attempt to comfort her. Murtagh had always felt a sense of hollowness, never knowing such affection. But he could not imagine how it must have felt for Hal, to watch a woman that lovely treated as less than human. Killed before her eyes.

What did Hal see when she walked through here? Good memories? Or bad?

He wandered, trying to imagine what life had been like before, when he stopped again. Hal was near the edge of the village, sitting before a house that stood somewhat removed from the others. She was crying quietly, such pain and longing in her eyes that Murtagh almost didn't want to interrupt. But his soul be damned if he would leave her alone again, especially when she looked like she believed she had single-handedly ruined everything.

He took a slow breath, glad she was at least physically unhurt. His steps were quiet, as he feared disturbing her. But he knew, just as he always did, that Hal would know he was there. He stood behind her, unsure of what to do or say, so he simply stood there at her back.

"I tried to go in," she said suddenly, her voice full of emotion. "But I got scared. Because I know it will not look as it once did in my memories. And I don't want to ruin it by seeing what has become of it."

There was nothing he could say, and he eventually sat down behind her, wrapping his arms around her stomach, laying his cheek on her back. She was shaking and he squeezed her tighter.

They sat there for several, long minutes, neither of them moving. Neither of them speaking. He feared Hal was only torturing herself, staring at the house she grew up in. But before he could say anything, she moved to wipe her face. "I should go wash up."

"I'll go with you." He could hear the sharp inhale of breath, as though she meant to argue. But she didn't speak, thinking better of it. He followed behind her as she walked, holding what he recognized as the blanket from his bag. Invidia must've grabbed it for her.

Hal paused when they reached the river, observing it with sullenness. "It's gotten wider. I guess since no one is here to care for it." She kneeled down near the water, putting her hand in. "At least it's warm."

She sat down on the grassy bank, pulling off her boots and jerkin. Murtagh turned to give her privacy. "Do you not think we are past the point of modesty, rider?"

There was something almost teasing in her voice, and he could not help but smile. "I do not want to risk it either way."

"Even if I don't mind it?"

"Are you trying to seduce me?"

"I usually don't have to try very hard."

He dared laugh. "I suppose not."

He could hear her clothes dropping to the ground and he swallowed, keeping his head down, his hair falling and blocking part of his vision. It was still, with no sound coming from Hal or to indicate she had gotten in the water. He nervously licked his lips when he felt her moving behind him. He closed his eyes.

"It's not fair to tease me, you know," he breathed.

"It is not teasing if I want you to look," she said gently. "You never undress me. Never touch me beyond my back or my stomach. Except for between my legs, when you're pleasuring me, of course."

His face flushed. She took his hand in hers. He grew stiff and she paused, but when he didn't yank his hand back, he could swear he heard her smile as she spoke. "Why is that, Shur'tugal?"

He felt a chill when she said it, breathlessly, wantonly. "You know why?" he said, his voice gruff with lust, his body shaking as she placed his hand on her stomach.

"Tell me anyway."

She sounded needy, the same tone she would get when she was aroused. He felt his body begin to respond at the low sound, and he was too weak to disobey her.

He wrapped his arms around her frame, feeling the scars on her body as his hands ran up her back, pulling her into him. Her bare body, flush against his. He almost opened his eyes, but there was a thrill about them being closed. To know without seeing. To let his imagination fly. To imagine, clothed or not, how absolutely perfect she would look.

One hand reached for her cheek, picturing her face. His lips found hers, brushing against them teasingly, the barest of kisses as he said, "Because if I do, I will have you for myself. All of you. I wouldn't stop unless you told me to. And you would not tell me to."

He could feel her lips stretch into a smile. "You think me so nefarious?"

"Why else are you pressed up against me?"

She chuckled. "Fair enough, rider. Fair enough."

She pulled away and Murtagh felt a twinge of regret as she left. But he knew it was for the best. He waited until he heard the water move, and gave himself a few more moments before turning around. Hal gave him a playful, knowing smirk from the water, wading silently, ripples fanning out around her. Murtagh smiled as he watched her, their eyes never breaking contact. He felt heat pooling in his stomach, feeling just as much predator as he did prey.

Dammit all.

He began yanking off his boots and Hal burst out laughing. The sound was pure and bright, and he only undressed faster. "Turn around, you sneaky little pervert," he teased.

"I suppose we'd be at just as much risk if I saw you naked as you did me."

"More so. Your lack of self-control around me is astounding."

"I cannot argue with that. Especially when that mouth of yours continues to be my undoing."

He nearly slipped and fell at her words.

When he finally waded into the water, Hal turned, grinning as he swam over to meet her. The river was not quite as deep as he thought it to be, his toes just touching the bottom. But floating was easier than straining his feet. Hal wrapped her arms around his neck and kissed him slowly. He felt flush at the feel of her skin against his, even underwater. She was soft, like a something out of a dream.

"Say it again," he whispered.

The world around them was peacefully quiet, a strange contrast after all they had just endured. And it was perfect, because in the absence of noise, Murtagh could not hear anything else except for Hal when she said, "I love you."

He closed his eyes, letting her words wash over him. They sounded so beautiful. And they were his, and his alone, to cherish. "Hmm, again."

"I love you."

"Again."

She smiled. Then she leaned forward and pressed her lips to his. Teasing, slowly deepening the kiss. His heart raced in anticipation and want and he struggled to catch his breath. She pulled away. "I love you, Murtagh Morzansson. With all that am."

He kissed her again, this time until they were both breathless and dizzy. When he pulled away, he smiled.

"Again."

…

By the time they emerged from the water, wrinkled and shivering at the slight chill in the air, Hal felt more herself than she had expected. It wasn't just getting clean, she knew. It was him. Murtagh's presence, the very sight of him, her tongue buzzing at the number of times she had told him she loved him. It felt like a weight being lifted from her shoulders. They dried off with their backs to each other, but Hal dared sneak a peek over her shoulder as she finished getting dressed before him.

The first thing she saw was the scar Morzan gave him. It glowed menacingly in the moonlight, a heartbreaking sight even after all this time. But her eyes drifted lower and she grinned, trying not to laugh as she observed his bare buttocks for her viewing pleasure. He fumbled with his clothes — trying to fix his pants that had gone inside out when he yanked them off in his rush to get to her — completely oblivious to her gaze.

Hal turned towards him, setting her boots back down on the ground quietly. She wasn't quite sure what was possessing her, but she longed to touch him. To press her lips against his skin. Maybe it was the way he had asked her to repeat that she loved him. As if he expected her answer to change. Three little words he had never been told. Not by a parent or friend, not by a sibling or lover. She wanted to reach out to him, fully demonstrate how much she meant what she had said.

She hesitated, feeling a new weight in her body. To be with him now would hold new meaning for her. And she knew she could never go back. That frightened and thrilled her. But it wasn't about her, she knew. It was about him, about Murtagh. And she knew that from this point forward, she would do whatever it took to see him happy.

She laid her hands against his back. She was just tall enough to kiss the top of his scar and he tensed when she did. He didn't speak nor stop her. Hal ran her lips down his scar, tender kisses on a twisted reminder of his past. She took her time, moving slowly, pouring love and affection into every kiss. She could not change his past. Could not heal his wounds. And even if she could, it would not change his memory of them.

But she could give him new memories, sweet memories on top of the painful ones. Let the same skin that had been torn open by Zar'roc, burned with hot claws, whipped, beaten, branded, and hated now know nothing but her love. She kissed every inch of every scar on his back. And when she was done, she drifted to his front and did the same thing there. Her touch was not meant to be seductive or teasing. Only loving and kind.

Wrapping her arms around his waist, Hal laid her head on his chest. Harsh realities awaited them, but all she wanted was to hold on to this moment for a little bit longer. Murtagh's fingers graced her cheek, pulling her head up before sliding and tangling themselves in her damp hair. His gaze is a mix of sadness and love, but there's no mistaking the worry there as well. And she knows it's worry for her.

She stands on her toes to close the distance between them, kissing him in the hopes that it would ease the tension between his brows some. He moves to take her face between both hands, immediately responding. There's a quiet hunger and desperation in the way his lips move against hers, and it would be frightening in its intensity if it wasn't also so all-consuming.

"I love you," Hal whispered against his lips as they took a moment to catch their breaths. It still threatened to knock her off balance, the weight and power of three, small words. Yet she felt no fear when she said them. Not when she saw how the words seemed to fill Murtagh, lighting the shadow behind his eyes and turning his cheeks pink with pleasure.

"I love you, too, Hal." He kissed her lips once more, then her forehead. Hal buzzed with delight at the care and tenderness, the gestures seemingly different even though Murtagh's tendency to show her affection was long-standing.

When they finally returned to the campsite, Invidia gave them both a wane smile, and Thorn only looked up, as a passing acknowledgement, from his meal. There was a weight, a tension in the air. Hal could feel it as Murtagh kissed her cheek before sitting down by the fire. Stiff. Like no one knew what to say now that they were here.

"Get some rest," Invidia said after a while of everyone stewing in silence. "We will leave early in the morning for Illium." She looked briefly at Hal, then looked away. "Do not plan to stay long."

Hal felt herself sway in her spot, but she did not otherwise react or respond. "I'll take first watch," Murtagh said, sounding equally pained at Invidia's instructions.

"No," Hal said suddenly. "I'll do it."

"Hal —"

"I've slept long enough," she said in a low voice, giving him an assured smile to ease his obvious nerves. He still seemed skeptical, as did Invidia, but they both eventually settled down with their backs to Hal, Murtagh curled against Thorn while Invidia curled up near the fire. Hal sat there and listened. She could hear their tense and tightened breaths eventually begin to slow, becoming even and smooth as they drifted. Their hearts became regular, just as relaxed as they fell asleep.

It took Hal a moment to realize that she could hear such things from where she sat, and she started in disbelief. She licked her lips nervously, the noise unfamiliar and rather intrusive, she felt, for everyone involved. She closed her eyes, trying to drown out the noise. Trying to pretend that she was as normal as she ever was. Because just for a moment, she had forgotten that she had not been brought back from the brink of death without repercussions. Without sacrifice. She hadn't actually stopped to process that she was a Shade. Perhaps some new breed of it, but still a Shade all the same.

Inhuman.

She felt her eyes burn with tears. She could still feel her heart beat in her chest, which seemed so human in nature. She couldn't remember if anyone had ever mentioned if a normal Shade would have a heartbeat or not. She rose carefully to her feet, her footsteps even quieter than they had been before. She did not stray far from the camp, only moving to the edge of the lake where the fire did not reach. Where she could let her tears fall in darkness, no one the wiser.

She gazed down at her hands, a fleeting memory of a bright light coming out of them when she had attacked Thea. Would that be common for her now, or was it simply her body not have adjusted yet to the presence of the spirits? Like a torch that still smoked even after the flame was put out. The more questions she had, the greater disconnect and distance she felt from herself. It was like realizing she could use magic all over again: she did not trust this body or herself. But this time, there was no one to teach her what this meant or how to use or control it. Once again, Hal was all alone.

Hal kept watch the entire night. She hardly felt tired, only immensely bored. She hadn't meant to do it. But when it came time to wake someone to switch, Hal was still awake. And everyone was sleeping so soundly she thought she'd give them another hour. Then that hour became two. Then three. And as the sky began to grow light, she realized that this would be her body now, and she would have to find new markers to indicate when she was exhausted or exerting herself.

She picked up the hand-and-a-half sword that Murtagh or Invidia must have brought back with them. She unsheathed it quietly and returned to her spot by the lake. It felt almost weightless in her hand as she held it. She rotated her wrists, watching the blade cut through the air at a pace too fast for any human eye to properly track. But Hal's eyes followed it with ease, not even realizing how much faster she was moving.

She began running through her drills, recalling her lessons and sparring sessions as she moved through the footwork. The sword felt like it was made of wood, it felt so light in her hands. Hal could hear the others begin to wake up, their eyes on her, but she kept practicing, her back to them to avoid feeling rather embarrassed for practicing on her own.

She could easily differentiate Murtagh's steps from Invidia's as they rose to their feet, as Invidia moved with an ease and gracefulness that Hal did. And it was Invidia who walked closer, her steps breaking into a run as if to strike.

Hal pivoted on her foot and met Invidia's sword in the air, braced for the weight behind the attack. But Hal did not budge as she normally did when fighting the elf. Her arm remained steady, and Invidia did not seem to stumble at the new strength in her pupil.

Murtagh kept a careful distance, eyes wide as the two women parried blows back and forth, striking then dodging, thrusting and spinning, with strength and grace that could only be found in an elf or Shade. There were moments where Hal could feel her work was a tad bit sloppier than it had been before, her body not yet accustomed to the unnatural speed and strength with which she could now fight. She would have to practice harder to get used to that as well. She no longer knew her own limits or strengths. She would basically have to start from scratch all over again.

Hal knew they did not have the time to fight for a much longer period of time than she would have liked — to really begin testing out what she was currently capable of. Invidia must've reached the same conclusion because they both slowed to a stop almost at the same time, their breaths slightly hitched.

But Invidia didn't smile when they backed away from each other like she had begun to when the sparred previously.

"I supposed I'm not surprised that you are stronger and faster than you were," she commented, her voice and expression almost unreadable. She sheathed her blade. "Do not forget that Halen."

Hal stood there, gritting her teeth to hide her frustrations as Invidia began to walk away. Did she think Hal didn't know? Did she think her gloating or ignorant?

"Is that really all you have to say?!" Hal snapped back, indignant.

Murtagh's expression was pained as Invidia turned. There was sorrow in her eyes. "Do not misunderstand me, Halen: I know you didn't wish for this. I know this is not your fault. But all the same, I had been anticipating the moment where we would become equals. I just never thought it would be like this."

Hal felt like Invidia had just slapped her, even if her words had not been cruel. She closed her eyes, her throat growing tight at the weight of Invidia's words. She had thought that much of her progress? Hal had been thinking she was getting stronger. And now that she thought about it, Hal had been thinking of that day too. Where she would square off against Murtagh and beat him. She was not sure if she could ever beat Invidia, but the fact that the elf had thought enough of Hal that she thought they would one day become equals?

It never occurred to Hal to think, of what all she had stood to lose now that she was no longer human.

…

"Was that really necessary?!" Murtagh's voice was low with fury, torn between running to Hal or stalking after Invidia, which he did with his fingers curled tightly into fists.

"Was what necessary, Shur'tugal?"

"You think Hal less of a swordsman now that she's a —"

But the word got stuck in his throat. And Invidia turned on him. "You can't even say it."

"That's not the point —"

"It very much is the point, Morzansson. When it comes to the struggles of her life, not once has Halen been grounded in the reality of her situation."

"That's not true," he said tightly, reflexively, knowing it was a lie but still feeling the need to defend Hal.

"It is and you know it. From what I have come to understand about her, the last twelve years of her life have been spent blocking out the painful memory of her past. And I'm not saying she was wrong for that — I can't even imagine the toll that would have taken on her otherwise, especially as a child. But she cannot ignore it any longer. She cannot hide away and conveniently block the truth from her memory in order to lessen the sting of it. Nor can you."

Invidia stepped forward, her expression softening even though the pain was still there in her eyes. "We were fortunate, Murtagh. She should be dead or worse. She was spared, and so were we. But at what cost? If Halen had turned, you let her go free." Murtagh's jaw was tight. "She could have laid waste to you, and Thorn, and me, and her people, and that would have been on you.

"She is a Shade. At the end of the day, that is fact. She will be stronger than us, physically and magically. She may not see it now, but she will. And assuming she will hold true to all of the traits of a Shade, she will also outlive the people of her village. She will not age as they do. And I know she will not be able to bear that kind of loneliness when she has to bury her friends. But she cannot integrate herself into any city or town or village. The very nature of what she is, is grounds for immediate, onsite execution. Even if she does not look like a Shade, that will only mean people will fear her more. They will think she is a spy, a new breed of Shade that can look like your family, your friends, your neighbors. Her existence will sow mistrust and chaos. The woman who has sought nothing but joy and peace for others must prepare herself for a life of hatred and suspicion."

Murtagh closed his eyes, beginning to cry as he listened. She would have to live like he did. Always looking over her shoulder. Never letting anyone get to close. Always on the move. Lying to preserve her own life. Possibly even killing. Invidia was right: no one with Hal's compassion deserved such a fate. But he could see no other way.

"She will live a cursed life from this day forward," Invidia continued in a soft voice. "There is no nice way of saying it. I cannot prepare her for that —"

"But I can," Murtagh said in a low voice. He opened his eyes and saw Invidia eyeing him slowly, but not with surprise. He slowly nodded his head. "You are right. I cannot protect her from the opinions and actions of others. I cannot protect her from the harsh realities of her new existence. But I can protect her. She is a Shade, yes. And it is…hard for me to accept. But I will accept it. Because she is also still Halen. She still smiles as she did. And her love for me does not mean any less, and my love for her will only grow stronger. She is still Halen because she chose to fight rather than succumb to the wishes of Thea. And I will always fight for her, as she did for me."

Invidia smiled, her lips slowly stretching in relief. And for a moment, Murtagh wondered if she had feared that his feelings for Hal would have changed with this new development. As she nodded her head in agreement, she said, "I could not agree with you more, Murtagh Morzansson." She lifted her chin, as if appraising him. "You are strong and sound of mind, body, and soul. The life you have led thus far has been an unfortunate one. Only one who has been outcasted before can truly know what she is about to face. But I see now, that perhaps it was not all in vain."

Murtagh looked over his shoulder and Invidia followed suit. Hal was watching them, eyes troubled as she tried to pick-up on what they were saying. Murtagh felt his chest tighten at the sight. His mind was still swimming, still processing what still seemed a figment of a bad dream. But as Hal's gaze met his, he felt his expression soften and his resolve harden.

"No," he agreed, something calming filling him. "No, it was not."

…

Hal stood outside her childhood home one last time. There wasn't much to it anymore. The wood had rotted in places, and leaves and ivy grew in others. The roof had collapsed inward, likely from being torched, but it hadn't been completely burned down. Hal suspected a rain came early the following morning and put it out. It was destroyed now. And there was nothing she could do about it. The house her father had built with his bare hands, gone.

Walking through the remains of her village, Hal kept expecting to see blood, bodies, and decay. Instead, all she could see were the new signs of life as the forest took back what had once belonged to it. And if she had to choose a proper end to her village, she felt that was the best one. But it had pained her to think of all those lives lost. No goodbyes. No burials. No one to remember them, except Hal.

She stepped away from her home. She had no desire to go inside. To torment herself any longer over a past she could not change. She had chosen to forget so that she could find peace. But she had done her people a great disservice. She had not thought to write down any traditions, or sketch an image of her family. She had forgotten words to her mother's lullaby and her father's tips for surviving a storm when out at sea. She would have no dowry if she married, no artifacts or stories to pass down to her children.

She had forgotten the rich culture of her village. And when she died, there would no one left to remember it. But starting now, she would not forget their sacrifice. She would not forget how they had led Murtagh to her on multiple occasions, saving her life. How they had stayed by her side in that tunnel, reminding her she was never alone. She would not forget how they had collectively tried to fight against the Shade to protect her.

They had fought for her in life and in death. And she would do everything in her power to make sure their sacrifices were never forgotten. She would make sure her people had not died in vain.

But as she stared up at the quaint little house, she thought of the other little girl who had once called it home. As much as she feared Thea, as much as she knew she had to be stopped, Hal could not hate what she had become. Such different lives they had led. How easily the roles could have been reversed. Hal didn't know how she would stop Thea, but she had to try. But did she really have to kill her to do it?

"Invidia and Thorn are ready to go."

Hal looked over her shoulder as Murtagh came to stand beside her. As she turned to face him, he wrapped an arm around her waist and pulled her into him, kissing her soundly. She felt selfish and greedy, kissing him back with such fervor. But any sign from him that his feelings had not changed despite what she had become, she latched on to with desperation. Not just because it meant he did not fear or loathe her existence, but also because she still responded to his touch, his gazes, his presence and proximity. And she clung to such human emotions with everything that she had. She felt her eyes fill with tears, spilling over onto her cheeks.

"I cannot ask you to do this," she breathed. "I cannot ask you to leave the Tenari because of me. It's your home."

"It was my home because you were there," he said, his voice and gaze soft. "I love our people, and our island. But I told you before: wherever you are, is where I want to be. Whatever you must endure so that we may stop Thea, we will endure it together."

"And does it not bother you? What I have become?"

His smile was full of such love and devotion that Hal had to bite her lip to keep from sobbing. He leaned his forehead against her. "You have always been stronger than me. As far as I'm concerned, nothing has changed."

She could not help but laugh at that. Hal pulled his head down, her heart racing madly in her chest as they kissed. Unexpectedly, his grip became tighter as he suddenly pulled away. He inhaled sharply as if surprised, and Hal frowned. The blood instantly drained from his face. "Murtagh?"

His voice was hollow as he spoke. "My wards around the village just went off. The Ra'zac are preparing to attack."