Ostrava awoke sometime later to a familiar, tinny sound. Alvira was sat beside him, fully adorned in her silver armor. It looked brand new, as if it had never been tattered the way he had last seen it, barely clinging to Alvira's ethereal form. He winced at the memory before hastily pushing it aside; he couldn't allow himself to be ensnared by negativity anymore. He knew that Alvira would disapprove.

So instead, he redirected his attention to the sole source of his joy as of late, a smile forming on his face despite the fact that her helmeted visage was obscured of his view. She sat with her elbows against her knees, her head tilting curiously to the object she hefted in her hands; a sword, he realized, elegant, shiny, and well-maintained.

"You have procured a new weapon, I see," Ostrava observed through a yawn. Alvira turned to look at him as he stretched his back, stiff from sleeping in his armor. Then, she shook her head.

"This is for you," she said, adjusting the weapon with tender care before extending it to him. It was lighter than it at first appeared, and he gawked at the finery of the weapon: made of sterling silver, it shined like the moon even in the soft candlelight of the Nexus. Though when his thumb brushed over the hilt, he found it was rough and bumpy. He squinted, taking a closer look, to find odd, foreign words engraved upon it.

"Amor omnia vincit," he sounded out clumsily.

"It means 'love conquers all.'"

Ostrava flicked his eyes back to Alvira's, barely perceptible through her visor, though that didn't conceal the trace of sadness within them.

"This was my father's sword," she explained. Ostrava's hand strained around the weapon, truly fearing letting it go should he mar or destroy something so precious by accidentally dropping it, before attempting to push it back into her hands. Alvira's eyes shifted from sad to confused.

"I cannot accept this," Ostrava said, urging her to take the weapon from him, though she refused. Her fingers wrapped around his knuckles, and she nudged his hand back into his lap.

"I want you to have it," she said gently. "Father would not be in favor of its continued disuse."

Ostrava fell silent, arms suddenly weak with the weight of the sword nestled in his palms. To bestow upon him a gift of this magnitude, Alvira's trust in him must be absolute.

"And one more thing…"

Ostrava very nearly fainted at the rush of blood to his head when Alvira offered him the blade's obvious counterpart: a shield of the same material with a tree etched into its face.

"No," he strained, voice wavering. "No, no, no…"

"… Ostrava?"

His name was dolent coming from her then, but he could not take what she was bequeathing to him. It was too much, too valuable, and someone as incompetent in the art of fighting as he was could not be relied upon to protect these treasured heirlooms. He laid the sword down at his feet as if it were made of glass before half-standing, half-crawling away from the objects.

Alvira grabbed his wrist before he could fully escape. "Ostrava." She said his name again, no longer a question, more assertive. He ceased his struggle against her, then.

"Alvira, I-"

"Ostrava, please." Alvira pulled him to her by the wrist, and he narrowly avoided toppling over, but she helped to stabilize him as he came to kneel across from her. He bowed his head to the floor as he was ought to do, and Alvira took the opportunity to place the honored sword and shield before him. He looked down upon them, awestruck once more by their beauty. Never before had he seen weapons so masterfully crafted.

"I'm giving these to you because I know not only will you fight well with them, but you'll give them the respect they're rightfully deserved." Alvira reached for his hand, manipulating his fingers to once more wield her father's sword. Her own hand swept reverently across the front of the shield. "Like my armor and weapons, these, too, were blessed by the archbishop of our church; my father's father." Alvira closed her eyes as she recalled her father explaining this very concept to her when she was still a child. "The sword can not only maim but can destroy the evil within one's very heart. The shield wards off all manner of magic that would rend any regular shield useless."

"Why do you not use these, Alvira?" Ostrava asked lowly, this simple question threatening to break him all over again.

"I wear my father's armor." Ostrava glanced up at her then, and even with the helmet covering her face, he could see her smile as clear as the sun. "Now you will brandish his weapons. In this way, he can protect us both, like he used to protect his family and his homeland."

Ostrava swallowed, throat suddenly dry. All he could bid her in turn was a nod.

"Thank you, Ostrava." Alvira stood, using his shoulder as support as she gathered her halberd. It was time to venture into the next archstone, but Ostrava could not find any fear in himself at that notion.

No… thank you, Alvira, he thought as he trailed swiftly behind her.

Alvira gazed determinedly into the thin face of the Queen of Latria as she touched the third archstone, Ostrava's hand grazing her back, further fueling her as the Nexus warped away, and then there was nothing.

"… Where are we?" came Ostrava's voice from behind, now laced with the slightest hesitancy.

His guess was a good as hers. She couldn't see anything.

It was like the Stonefang tunnels all over again.

Alvira sighed. "I don't know," she replied at last before taking hold of Ostrava's hand to guide him forward. She, herself, was led by the dim light flowing from her augite. She took a single step forward, then stopped when she heard the tinkling of a bell.

"Did you hear that?" Ostrava asked at the same moment the bell rung again. Then, across the way, eerie green light burned around a lantern carried by-

"What the hell is that thing?" Ostrava asked, not missing a beat. It was some sort of Cthulian monster that should only dwell in one's deepest nightmares: an octopus-like head, replete with eight wriggling tentacles and a hand shaped like a hook. The rest of its assuredly ghastly form was hidden by a plain robe and tied around its waist was the small bell they'd heard, continuing to ring as the creature patrolled what Alvira now came to recognize in the light as a prison block.

Ostrava's grip constricted around her hand before Alvira abruptly sent them to the floor in a crouch, hiding behind the metal bars of their cell. They both waited anxiously for it to pass, the only source of illumination in this dark place receding with it as it turned down a hallway and disappeared.

"Let's go," Alvira whispered, and Ostrava willingly trudged forward through the blackness with her as she broke the corner out of their cell and hurried through the hallway. Her metal-plated fingers tinged lightly against the bars of the other cells as they passed, the groans and hisses of soul-starved prisoners chasing behind them.

They quickly reached the other side of the block, pausing as Alvira peered down the same hallway the creature had taken. She saw no light and heard no bell, so the pair scampered quickly past, only to be met with a locked metal gate.

Alvira reached for it, meaning to smash the lock with brute strength; it should have been a simple endeavor, only as her fingertips grazed the handle, a sinister aura flared against her, and she reeled away in shock. The red glow that had erupted around the gate shrank as she backed away. She frowned.

Breaking through would not be as easy as she had initially believed. The gate was reinforced by dark magic.

"Alvira, what happened? Are you all right?" Ostrava inquired as he reached for the gate, seeking to investigate what had caused her strange reaction. Through the darkness, she didn't notice what he was doing until it was too late.

"Ostrava, no!" she gasped, only for her voice to be overshadowed by his loud scream as the magic barrier seared his skin through his armor. All around them, the relative quiet was subsumed by the frantic ringing of many bells. Alvira blanched at the sheer number of bells assaulting her senses, making her head ring along with them. This prison must be massive to require so many guards.

And by the sound of it, they were all closing in on them…

Ostrava crashed to the ground, panting as his skin continued to burn with sensation. It felt like the flesh was slowly being ripped from his bones. He cried out again as the pain spread up his elbow to his bicep, creeping towards his shoulder. He was on the verge of collapse when Alvira yanked him upward.

"We have to go." One of the bells was close by now, and soon the guard from before was upon them. It emitted a strange, high-pitched warbling and tapped the bell on its belt repeatedly, and at that, Alvira finally understood the bell's function.

It was an alarm system. Now, every last guard in the block would know where they were.

The guard shrieked, and then a blue ray of light was speeding towards them. Alvira took a defensive stance with her halberd raised. The protective blessing placed on it would negate some of the impact, but it was still going to sting. She braced herself, and then-

The ray fizzled out before it reached her. She opened her eyes, not realizing she had closed them, and found her vision eclipsed by Ostrava's broad back. He was standing in front of her, shield raised with his sword hand as his other arm hung uselessly at his side.

"Alvira," Ostrava hissed through grit teeth, the pain obvious from the quivering of his body. He was barely standing, but he had defended her. "Strike now before the rest of them come!"

It seemed Ostrava had arrived at the same conclusion she had. He knew what was happening. But he was right: they needed to deal with the immediate threat and escape while they had the chance.

Quick as a lightning bolt, Alvira had raised her bow from behind Ostrava's shield and pierced the otherworldly guard through its misshapen skull. It fell to the ground, bell tolling before it was silenced by the weight of the thing's body. Ostrava rushed to the corpse, reaching underneath it to snatch the bell.

"Hide!" he grunted, leaving her as he skidded around the corner and vanished. Instead of obeying, Alvira made to follow, her panic rising as Ostrava rang the bell wildly, informing the guards of his location. She heard the incoming guards change course according to the sound of the bell. Was he really doing this; was he going to sacrifice himself so that she could escape? She couldn't allow this; she had to protect him.

Alvira tracked the sound of Ostrava's bell through the dark as she pursued him, only to freeze when the sound seemed to drop. It went lower, and lower, and then…

Complete, and utter, silence.

No…

They got to him first. He was gone.

"No…"

Her legs shook under her weight. Another failure, just like…

Father…

She whimpered, falling to her knees.

"Ostrava…"

Something attached itself harshly to her hip, clawing at her, and the only reason she didn't scream was because she choked on the air she inhaled. She flew to her feet, already on the offensive, halberd falling to execute whatever had dared assault her. A yelp sounded from the ground followed by the clinking of armor as her target rolled away.

"Alvira!" Ostrava wheezed, voice still weakened by immense pain. Alvira blinked once. Twice. She looked down at the knight, confounded, his chest rising and falling quickly with his distressed breathing as her halberd cracked the floor between his legs.

Suddenly, she was very, very angry.

Ostrava mewled as she picked him up by the collar, holding him in midair. "You suicidal idiot!" Alvira seethed as she fought back the urge to throttle him. "Why did you run off like that?!"

"I did not have time to explain!" Ostrava whined as she tightened her grip around him.

"Explain what, exactly?"

"Oh, God; please, put me down!" He groaned, and it was then that Alvira remembered his injured arm. Her anger cooled to concern as she placed him gently on the floor. He curled into himself, holding his arm close to his chest as the pain steadily spread to his neck. Alvira sat beside him, talisman at the ready, and touched his arm as she began to pray.

His breathing slowed to an even rhythm as the pain lessened, then waned entirely. With a sigh of relief, Ostrava unfurled his body and pushed himself up to sit properly. Alvira was watching him, eyes full of intent that made a cold tingle run down his spine. He gulped.

"Now that we have a moment," Alvira began, voice deceptively even. "Care to explain what that was about?"

"I, uh…" Ostrava tried dumbly. He took a deep breath, attempting to calm himself in the face of her once more rising temper. Never before had he been subject to Alvira's wrath, and he didn't plan on finding out what that was like now of all times.

"The guards follow the bell…" Alvira nodded, indicating that she knew. "So, I took it and led them away from us before throwing it off of a balcony somewhere."

"… I see."

Alvira went quiet. It was the first time in a while that Ostrava felt awkward around her. He suspected that she was contemplating his murder and flinched when she eventually reached for him. This is how I die, Ostrava mused, but when her hands cupped his face, his fear was replaced by stupefaction.

"I'm sorry I got upset," Alvira whispered. "I thought that they had killed you when I heard the bell fall."

Ostrava reclined into her touch, feeling a surge of delight as one of her fingers caressed the side of his helmet. If only he could feel her directly…

"I did not mean to frighten you," he murmured back. "I just wanted to protect you."

As they spoke, Alvira drifted ever closer to him. Her thumb toyed with the joint of his visor, causing him to stiffen slightly. She seemed to understand, and her hand slid behind his neck to pull him forward until their foreheads were touching. Ostrava held his breath and clenched his eyes shut.

"I know," Alvira said finally. "Thank you."

As much as he wanted to remain in this moment, Ostrava knew that they were on borrowed time. He separated them, proffering his hand to her as he stood. When their fingers connected, he slipped a key into her palm.

"This was on the guard's belt," he told her as she studied the small piece of metal. It gleamed the same ominous red color as the gate, though much more subtly. It would have been impossible to discern in the light. "And I doubt that it is the only one."

Alvira was inclined to agree. So, they would have to hunt keys from the guards in pitch darkness. The prospect was hardly thrilling.

"Let's go, before they find us."

Ostrava nodded, and much to Alvira's surprise, stepped in front of her to lead with his shield raised. She clutched his shoulder tightly, and once more, they shirked away into the cover of the shadows.

Now that they were familiar with the foe they faced, Alvira and Ostrava had developed a plan to adequately deal. From the darkness, Alvira would assassinate the guards with her bow before they could detect their presence. If they were seen, Ostrava would defend from the creatures' foul magic while Alvira took them down. It was an unbeatable combination, and soon, they had amassed a large collection of keys and descended several floors down.

Alvira felt a sense of comfort and safety beyond the vigilant protection of the man walking before her. It was such a stark contrast to who he had been only a day prior. She couldn't help the swelling of pride in her chest as she reeled it over.

Her thoughts came to a halt when they reached the next floor. This time, their half of the cell block was completely illuminated by fluorescent blue light. With its assistance, they were able to see the guard coming as it made its rounds. Unfortunately, that also meant that the guard saw them.

A Soul Ray was already on its way to them. Ostrava lifted his shield as Alvira readied an arrow. Even if the guard could see them, it would not break through the impenetrable bulwark of Ostrava's shield with dark magic alone.

Not that it had the chance. It died like all the others, and they promptly looted the key from its body.

"Humans? But how can this be?"

Ostrava jumped at the low, deep voice resounding behind him. Alvira reacted much more eloquently, arms snapping in place with an arrow nocked as she pinpointed her target, only to lower her weapon just as quickly.

Inside one of the cells was a human man in faded black robes, the once rich material dulled with time and use. It was stitched with silver symbols around the edges that Alvira knew intimately, and at the sight of them, her bow once more took aim. She glared at the man with all of the hatred she could muster. Ostrava only looked back and forth between them with his tell-tale slouch of bewilderment.

"Alvira?"

The man inside the cell ignored the risk of Alvira's weapon and met her eyes with matching confidence, as if his life was threatened on a daily basis. In a place like this, perhaps it was.

"You're a sorcerer," Alvira growled distastefully. Her finger crooked against the flaxen string of her bow at the accusation.

"I prefer the term 'Sage,'" he replied easily. Alvira narrowed her eyes.

"You are a filthy dark magic user no matter your title."

The man didn't so much as blink at the provocative nature of her words. In fact, he seemed much too comfortable for the situation he was in. His eyes lazily scanned them both, and a knowing smirk soon formed on his arrogant face.

"Ah, I see," was all he said, causing Alvira bristle.

"I should kill you."

"What? Why?!" Ostrava exclaimed. "Alvira, what has he done?"

"He is a purveyor of Soul Arts!"

"As are you."

The next thing Ostrava heard was the slight twing of Alvira's bow as she loosed an arrow straight at the man's chest. His eyes widened as he anticipated the man's death, but the arrow merely bounced off of him instead. Alvira shot two more at him to be met with the same result.

"Are you finished?" the Sage asked, boredly. Alvira snarled, hands reaching for her halberd. Before she could thrust the weapon between the magic-reinforced bars, Ostrava intervened.

"Alvira, stop!" he pleaded. "This is senseless!"

"No, he needs to die!"

"But why? He has not wronged us!"

"The boy is right," the Sage interjected. "How about instead of trying to kill me, you free me? I'll even share my magic with you as recompense."

Alvira's eye twitched. "How dare you?"

"Alvira, I believe he truly means to help us-" Alvira whirled on Ostrava then, the animosity in her eyes making his jaw click shut. He took a few steps backward.

"I'll leave you here to rot, since you're so adamant to defend yourself against me," Alvira spat. "Truthfully, that is more than you deserve."

The Sage didn't bother to speak to her again. This time, his words were directed to Ostrava. "Take heed of the demon which presides below," he warned. "She is a talented illusionist."

Ostrava couldn't even properly thank the man before Alvira tugged him away down the hall. He scoffed to himself.

"And they say mages are evil."

Author's note: In case it wasn't clear before, the armor that Alvira wears is the dark silver set. I'm aware that it's supposed to be "male only," but the concept of gender-locked armor is dumb, so my totally mature response to its existence is nyeh! Take that, Miyazaki.