The last piece of this chapter absolutely did not want to write itself. You probably won't blame it. In fact, you probably will wish it had not been written at all. But remember: all good things come to an end. Wait, that's not very reassuring at all...

DISCLAIMER: All the copyrighted characters in this story are not mine. The original characters are -- Ernest's family, for example, was lifted directly from my AU fic "Pieces" -- except for Lady Katri, who belongs to Erin-neesama.

WARNINGS: pairings of all three major sexual orientations. Violence, questionable behavior, and eternal damnation. Bizarre setting. Not your average mythology contained herein. Potentially offensive to very, very, very religious people, but not meant to be taken seriously. Humor and confusion and weirdness.

PAIRINGS: all sorts. Major pairings are Garu/Ernest and Zero/Erts. Other pairings vary wildly, but include Rio/Phil, one-sided Tune>Ernest, past Gareas/Leena, Azuma/Rill, Kuro/Teela, Tukasa/Yamagi, Yamagi/Roose, Roose/Wrecka, and Roose/Wrecka/Yamagi. (I know by now I'm certainly getting weird looks from everyone.) Potential pairings include Kizna/Ikhny, Zero/Ikhny, Leena/Tune, Clay/Saki, Hiead/Wrecka, one-sided Rome>Erts, if you must Yu/Kazuhi, pretty much EVERYBODY/Roose-and-or-Wrecka... probably a few I'm missing...

WALKS AMONG THEE
almost a fairy tale
by Kay Willow
THE TALE OF THE BEREAVED

Once upon a time, there was a wonderful and happy couple who loved each other more than anything else in the world. Now, as any young couple who loved each other with all their hearts and souls would, they wanted to have children. (They were married, of course. Children outside of wedlock! What an absurd notion! Only a true and holy union of mind and body could result in children whose souls were blessed by the One God, and both of the young people in question believed in that devoutly. Although they had allowed their passion to overwhelm them, once, before the day of the wedding, and actually dared to kiss each other, full on the lips! No tongue, thankfully, or they might have never redeemed themselves!)

Anyway. This young couple settled down in the serene little city where they had grown up: where everyone knew their names and awaited with joy the good news. And sure enough; a year or so after the marriage, the young woman became pregnant! The whole city was alive with excitement. For such a sweet and good-natured and talented pair, they could only have, surely, sweet and good-natured and talented children!

But when the child was born, he was actually somewhat of a disappointment. He was not dainty and beautiful; he was rather large and red-faced and loud. As he began to mature some, he did not become a dainty and beautiful child -- he became muscular and rugged and rather a trouble-maker. He didn't even have the family gift of healing.

The people of the city didn't say anything about this child, but they clearly thought that somewhere along the line, the happy couple had done something wrong. And the happy couple thought so too. Perhaps it was because of that one sinful kiss so long ago? Or perhaps it wasn't a flaw with them, they said -- perhaps it was simple fate. After all, in so many fairy tales the oldest child turned out to be a problem child. They decided to wait a few years to try again, so that hopefully whatever had been wrong that first time would be fixed the second time around.

Several years later, they tried again. And this time they were gifted with a good child: ethereally fragile and eternally well-tempered; a child who grew to be properly dainty and beautiful, winning the admiration and cooing praises of the townspeople. They watched him grow to be generous and loving and a healer of the highest degree, and everyone loved him.

But whoever heard of the happy young couple only having two sons? What kind of a fairy tale would that be? There need to be at least three.

And the young couple, who were not quite so young by now, had a third son. And this child, as well, seemed to be blessed by the One God: he was gentle in his expressions and mild in his moods, quick to smile at a charmed adult and showing signs of great magical promise. Everyone agreed that when he grew up, this tiny boy would be just as delightful as his brother. (The townsfolk liked to pretend that the oldest son didn't exist.)

Then, one day, the infant vanished from his cradle. No sorcery, no tracker, nothing could find any hint of his whereabouts or fate.

The loving husband and wife went into deep, deep mourning. Their youngest had been stolen from them before they had even really known him. Once their grief had been cleared away -- but never forgotten -- they knew what they had to do.

Become really, really, REALLY overprotective.

CHAPTER 3

"Do you think this rosary will do?"

"But it isn't even as nice as your current one. See how rough the beads are!"

"I am not so selfish as to seek what is beyond my station. I would prefer this humble rosary, truthfully."

"There is a difference between the sin of avarice and simple cooperation, you know. I am buying you a gift, a new rosary to replace the one that you broke last winter. I want you to choose a nice rosary, Tune."

Her eyes darted left, and right, and then settled on a point above his shoulder. Her lips tightened ever so slightly. "As you wish, Ernest. That man is watching you again."

Ernest felt himself flush. "Ignore him. How about these prayer beads?"

Ignoring him was easier said than done. The man who had introduced himself as Gareas Elidd the previous day at the scene of the accident, had a very penetrating stare. He'd also been following Ernest ever since.

It only took moments for their cheerful little expedition to fall into disarray once Gareas had been sighted. Ernest knew that he was getting all flustered and awkward with the weight of the stranger's eyes on him; Tune herself was looking rather harried as well. Within five minutes, he'd bought her a rosary she never would've ordinarily allowed him to buy her as being far too expensive and grand.

Then they paused.

"How do we get out without crossing paths with them?" Tune whispered.

Ernest had no idea.

Gareas stood at the edge of the sidewalk, leaning against a tree and staring through the door of the shop, straight at him. He looked thoroughly roguish, with his wild green hair and his jewelry and his skin-molded leather (today's was black), and while he seemed to carry neither weapon nor mage-sigil, Ernest was not willing to place any bets on him not being dangerous.

"Do you think there's a way out the back?" he whispered.

"I shall ask the proprietor," she murmured in response, and scurried away, a gray-clad mouse.

This, unfortunately, as Ernest realized too late, left him standing alone in the doorway and staring out at the ruffian who was staring in at him. Nervously, he started to edge back inside, but as if sensing that his prey was about to escape, Gareas closed in for the kill.

"Ernest Cuore. Do you have a moment." Neither was a question.

Sweat began to bead at the back of his neck. There was something very strange about all this, and Ernest had no idea what it was. He could think of not a single person in his entire life who had affected him like this. Why did he get so nervous under that green gaze?

"Ah. I'm kind of, well, waiting for my companion..."

"I'll get her," volunteered the dead woman, and calmly headed off in the direction Tune had departed in.

Ernest stared after her, torn between distress and relief. On the one hand, now he really was alone with the stranger who had been tailing him since their meeting. On the other hand... the dead woman was gone.

Thoughtfully, Gareas said, "Let's go outside, shall we."

Also not a question,> Ernest concluded, as Gareas took his elbow and led him over to a bench.

"Sit."

Maybe he doesn't know how to pose questions.> But he found himself sitting obediently, and rubbing the elbow that had been grabbed. Gareas' grip hadn't been painful, or even particularly unpleasant. He had strong hands.

Why am I thinking about his HANDS?> Although they certainly were very nice hands, Ernest had to admit on closer inspection.

Then his eyes flew back up to Gareas' face as the man started talking. He felt as guilty as he had that one time when he'd been in the marketplace staring at women's breasts, trying to figure out how they fed babies with those, and his mother had caught him and explained to him that that was a very intimate thing, not for public consideration.

"I need your help," Gareas said firmly.

Instantly suspicious, Ernest asked, "You're not going to try and get me to heal your friend again, right? Because I regret to inform you that she is well beyond my power."

"No! I mean..." Some of that resolution withered a bit. Gareas fumbled for a sentence. "I mean, I didn't mean to ask you that. It just kind of came out. I mean, I understand that you can't heal someone who's dead. I don't know why I asked you that."

"Because you're smooth," the woman in question said cheerfully, from nearby. Tune trailed along behind her as she approached them, and Ernest noted with concern that the nun was looking rather traumatized. She'd obviously never encountered a ghost before this one. "Introductions are finally in order, wouldn't you say, Garu?"

"Oh, yeah." Gareas straightened again. "I'm Gareas Elidd, as I told you at the scene of the accident. This is Leena Fujimura."

"A pleasure," Ernest murmured automatically with the politeness that had been instilled into his very bone marrow, but his mind was really buzzing with warnings. Gareas hadn't included an appellation for Leena -- was she a sister? wife? victim? -- and it was well-documented fact that ghosts could only become polarized towards a creature with a negative alignment.

And people with negative alignment were bad people.

"I am, as you know, Ernest Cuore," he followed up his lackluster response, somewhat belatedly. "This is Tune Youg, of Fatima."

"Oh, from the holy city," Leena exclaimed, looking pleased. "Welcome, then, Sister." She bowed politely. Clearly startled, Tune bowed back.

"You're, like, a monk or something, right?" All three of the others turned to stare at Gareas. "What? Everyone who comes out of there is a paladin or a monk or a priest, or whatever, right?"

Tune frowned, vaguely. "I am a nun," she said, almost pointedly, indicating her gray habit and robes.

"Huh. Well, hail the One God, or whatever."

Ernest was shocked. That's practically blasphemy!>

"So I wanted to talk to you about this curse I'm under," the oblivious man said.

Oh, a purpose!> His outrage faded quickly, replaced by fascination. Something wasn't right about what Gareas said, but Ernest was confident that it would become clear to him once he heard the full details. "What manner of curse?"

"There was... this demon," Gareas said hesitantly, and Tune immediately made the sign of the One God before her. Ernest leaned in closer. Demons usually resulted in delicate situations, but they were -- at the least -- interesting cases. He rarely got to do anything fun here in Basik. "Like, the week before Leena and I were getting married, it appeared out of nowhere and told me that she was going to die. So I made a bargain with it. Half my soul in exchange for her life." He rolled his eyes and waved. "But as you can see... here she is."

"And the demon killed her?" Ernest clarified, frowning.

"No -- she died like it said she would. But clearly, this was not the intended bargain. I mean, she's dead, and I'm still short a chunk of soul."

The demon had told the truth about her death, forged a contract regarding it, and then claimed its price despite not fulfilling its half of the arrangement? Something was still missing -- that was against all the laws that bound those wretched creatures. Ernest asked carefully, "What were the exact terms of the contract?"

"Well..." The other man hesitated, then sighed in dismay. "Half my soul, in exchange for her presence by my side, for the rest of my life."

Now Ernest understood. The demon had indeed fulfilled the letter of its bargain. He asked Leena, "So you want me to help you be rid of your curse?" Small wonder they had been seeking him so desperately: wandering the world even after one's death, with neither free will nor independence, was a dire fate indeed.

Gareas opened his mouth to agree, then did a double-take. "No, not her curse. My curse!"

Ernest gave him a politely skeptical glance. "But you're not under one," he pointed out.

"I'm not?"

"No. Half of your soul has been removed. It is as simple as that. The demon took it in a business transaction; there was no curse involved."

"How can you be sure?" he countered.

Ernest smiled in spite of himself. If this questing young man had intended that as a challenge, it was sorely misdelivered. The blond man answered matter-of-factly, "The universe cried out when you said so."

He was hard-pressed not to laugh as all eyes turned to him blankly. Few of the ungifted could understand a healer's connection with life: in order to know what needed to be healed, he had to first know what was wrong, and thus healers were gifted with the innate ability to sense pain. And this applied not only to people, but to all things living: animals and monsters, plants, and even the very fabric of the universe. And the universe, in a very intrinsic way, flinched in pain whenever an untruth was spoken.

And that is why the greater the power a being possesses, the less likely it is that he or she will lie to you.

After a rather inelegant recovery, Gareas said, "Fine. But I'm the one we're trying to save. We want to save my soul."

Ernest turned to Leena questioningly, and was deeply touched to see her nodding in agreement. "If Garu goes to Heaven when he dies, then my spirit will follow him, right? So better to secure both our passages instead of selfishly abandoning the sinking ship."

"Sinking ship?" Gareas demanded. "Are you comparing my soul to a sinking ship, Leena?!"

Ernest barely even heard him. "You have such a beautiful soul," he murmured, thinking of how much joy she must've brought to her loved ones in life. Tune, who had been silent throughout the exchange so far, was nearly in tears -- she was such a sympathetic creature; she too was moved by Leena's generosity.

Surely any man who has earned the devotion of such a woman can't be all bad,> Ernest thought hopefully, turning his attention to Gareas once more. Perhaps he doesn't deserve the fate in store for him...>

"I can help you," he said firmly. Both Gareas and Leena lit up happily at this news. "My family has contacts in Geheim, and a certain sorceress who lives there has sway with the demons. If I entreat Miss Katri to aid us, perhaps she and her husband can have a word with the demon in question."

"That's wonderful!" Leena exclaimed, but Gareas still looked doubtful.

"How do we know that'll work? I mean, asking nicely for my soul back, is that really the way--"

"It will work," Ernest assured him. "Almost all demons prefer power to souls, because the latter are easy to acquire for a denizen of Hell. In return for merely the promise of a favor or debt, they'll usually be happy to accommodate you. And demons are always willing to make a treaty of any kind."

The young man still seemed somewhat dubious. Apparently something wasn't fitting together for him about this plan, but he said only, "Won't this put her soul in danger? Katri's?"

The answer to that seemingly innocent inquiry wandered into questionable ground. Ernest had to fight to keep his face from slipping into a disapproving frown. He didn't really disapprove, not on a personal level anyway, but the reaction had been ingrained so deeply into him that it was automatic. "Miss Katri has nothing to fear from Hell," he said simply.

Gareas still looked unsure, but had relaxed. "Thank you for your aid," he said, hesitant. "You'll send word to Geheim?"

"Yes, as soon as I get home," he promised. "You should have your answer within two days, four at worst."

"That's great." Gareas seemed quite satisfied now. "I'm staying at the Lakham Inn, it's right down the street."

"I'll send Tune to you the moment I hear from Lady Katri." He had thought that would be the wise thing to say, but all at once Gareas' face fell with disappointment. Ernest couldn't understand it. What was wrong with Tune? Then Leena waved a hand in the other man's face to get his attention, leaned close and whispered to him, and then they both turned to stare at the healer.

Ernest felt the heat rising in his face. Something about those gazes made him very, very nervous.

Finally, Gareas -- looking terribly put-upon -- stammered, "Hey, um... I was wondering if you... had anything to do now, because... well, because if not, I'd like to ask you to have lunch with me. Us. Me."

Ernest stared at him blankly. That damnable flush had worked its way down his neck. Tune was visibly frantic -- just looking at her was as good as hearing a less facially-expressive person screaming "What would your parents say?!" -- and Leena gleeful. Gareas was not looking at any of them; was in fact staring at a nearby planted tree.

So, with no viable alternative like getting hit by another random car, Ernest gave the matter thought.

The current theory claims that all life is innately bisexual, stemming from an evolutionary step before gender. Most people lean towards, or are biologically programmed to lean towards, the heterosexual side of the scale -- which is all well and good; the world needs them -- but an undeniable few did not. This, too, was all well and good. In the days following the Collapse, there had been more important things to worry about than what particular organs your neighbor was looking for in a spouse, and the gospel of the One God reflected this: no censure had been written against any sexuality. In these happy days, everyone was extremely open-minded about alternative lifestyles, and there was almost no tension whatsoever between any of them.

Ernest had always known himself to be a definite slant to the left when it came to sexuality. As a healer, he knew himself better than most. But he had never actually put that knowledge to practice in the real world before.

Ernest Cuore was twenty-one years old, and he had never even been asked on a date before.

This was a very new thing for him. Need he was used to: he got that all the time. People who were injured needed his physical healing -- people who were lost needed his emotional healing. Love, too, he was used to: his parents loved him unconditionally, as did his brother Erwin, as did all those who he had lived among for his whole life.

But Gareas had not asked him from either of those emotions. While the romantic inside him said that perhaps need and love weren't totally unrelated, what would seem to have prompted Gareas to ask Ernest to lunch was want.

Gareas wanted him. That was what was in his eyes and in his mind that had unsettled the healer so. Nobody had ever wanted him before.

He kind of liked the idea, though.

I'm probably overthinking things,> Ernest acknowledged inwardly, even as he started to smile. He probably just wanted to delay my leaving until he figures out what's been bothering him about my proposal. He probably isn't even thinking of it as a lunch date. But it's an interesting theory, and there's always a chance...>

"Okay," he said, and then there they stood: three grinning fools and a shocked nun.

His parents noticed his distraction at dinner that night.

"Is something wrong, Ernest?" his mother asked solicitously. "You seem rather flushed."

"See how bright his eyes are," his father commented, worried. "And I have to repeat myself three times to get any response from the boy. Perhaps he has a fever."

Ernest barely heard them. He was in love.

Maybe it was the way he felt so special around Gareas. Maybe it was the lure of the forbidden. It certainly wasn't Gareas' manners or charm. But whatever it was, he was intoxicated by it, and he'd thought of nothing else all evening. Even the presence of Leena and Tune was insufficient to crush the romance of it.

They had held hands!

After a long, critical study, Erwin snorted and pronounced, "He's gotten laid."

But that penetrated his blissful haze. Ernest blushed so hard that he thought his ears might fall off. "Erwin!" Tomas Cuore exclaimed in shock, and then apparently lost his ability to speak entirely. Renee immediately added for him, "How could you say something like that in front of your brother and father?! You know how delicate they are!"

Erwin scowled. "You guys are such virgins," he accused. "And two of you are my parents."

The word 'virgin' seemed to render Tomas near-fainting. Renee took his hand consolingly and gave her oldest son a meaningful stare, which he ignored.

"I know you guys have had sex -- at least three times," he continued. "None of this can be all that new to you or anything!"

"Erwin Cuore, that is enough!"

But never let it be said that the oldest Cuore boy possessed tact. Instead of dropping the subject, he changed the topic. "And Ernest isn't you anyway. Come on, Ern. You got laid, right?"

"No!!" It was small consolation that his parents were visibly sharing in his humiliation. Tune and the acolyte Davinde (Erwin's ever-present, and long-suffering, companion) were trying nobly to ignore the conversation on their end of the table.

With a scowl, Erwin tried again. "How about a girl? You've got a girl now, that's it, right? I know it isn't Tune -- I know Davinde is fricking asexual -- but I bet that's why."

The two attendants flinched at their names. Davinde buried his head in his hands, and Tune patted his shoulder consolingly.

"No," Ernest repeated, not lying not lying not lying, so he needn't feel guilty. He passed a cloth napkin to Tune to give to Davinde. Holy or not, there comes a time in every man's life when the options are simply tears or murder.

Erwin's eyes narrowed. "A guy?" he asked triumphantly.

His silent blush had to be a complete giveaway.

Instantly forgetting about Erwin's rudeness, Renee clapped her hands together delightedly. "Oh, how wonderful!" She turned to her husband. "Tomas, isn't it wonderful? Ernest is in love!"

Tomas smiled at their youngest, apparently oblivious to his ferociously red face and longing glances for the door. "It certainly is wonderful. Who's the lucky man? Anyone we know?"

"Perhaps that charming young Halcion boy?"

Boring young Halcion boy,> Ernest corrected instantly, but instead of saying so or something similarly grand and dignified, he found himself stuttering. "N-- No, not him, no one you know..." How fascinating the tablecloth suddenly was! Please, please, PLEASE let them find a new topic.>

"Oh! Oh, Tomas!" Renee exclaimed, suddenly stricken. "If Ernest and his young man get married--"

Merciful One God, MARRIAGE? I met him this MORNING!> Ernest was a romantic, but he wasn't desperate.

Fortunately, he didn't need to explain that, because his mother finished, "--that means Erwin is our only hope for continuing the family legacy."

The Cuores were wonderful, loving people. Their children made them extremely happy. Although they didn't quite understand Erwin, and they might wish that he was more like them, and even despite their disapproval of his behavior, they never failed to find the good in him and cherish that. How unique he was, how protective he was, how passionate he was, and how deeply he believed in justice: all of these are good qualities that the Cuores cherished about their oldest, even though he sometimes made benevolence difficult.

But the realization that he was the speed bump in the road of their noble line was too much even for them.

"Oh," Tomas murmured, looking suddenly faint again. "Oh no..."

Erwin scowled at them. "I'm not that bad! You people are so overdramatic."

"The boy can't even introduce himself without a curse," Renee intoned, morbid.

Her husband added, "And he talks with his mouth full."

"And he isn't married yet, even though he's almost thirty now."

"Would you two cut it out?!"

"Even if he does actually marry that dear Alanna, what will they raise their children to be like?"

Renee put her fork down and instructed Erwin firmly, "You will propose to Alanna tomorrow. We'll have the wedding in as little time as you need to avoid embarrassing her--"

"Fuck, Mom, she takes birth control, you know!"

"--and then you will give any and all children you have to us to raise."

"What?!"

"Yes, listen to your mother," Tomas urged. "You can trust us to raise your children to be good people."

"And that's why it's imperative that you marry Alanna as soon as possible, for real this time,"
Renee concluded grandly. "So that we can take care of your children before we get too infirm."

Erwin had turned red. He jumped to his feet and slammed a fist down on the table. "Damnit! You're already senile, both of you! There's no way--"

Ernest took advantage of the distraction, having seen similar arguments many times before and knowing that the world would cease to exist for them outside the realm of the screaming. He slipped away from the dining hall without being noticed and breathed a sigh of relief in the air beyond.

Unbeknownst to him, the moment he stepped outside the door, conversation fell silent in the dining room.

"Something isn't right," Renee said after a long moment.

"I'm worried about that boy," her husband seconded unhappily. "Why wouldn't he talk to us about this young man of his? You do know that there's never any need to keep secrets from us, don't you, Erwin?"

Erwin rolled his eyes and tore into his meat with a savage appreciation that made his parents wince. He chewed, with his mouth open, as he said, "Of course we know. I've told you all sorts of dumbass things, and you've never been more than cross with me. Like that time when I told you about the fistfight at the McKenzie's. You only really got upset because I hit a girl, even though the little bitch was trying to gouge my eyes out at the time."

Renee closed her eyes in pain. Tomas forced himself to move on, pretending not to have heard. "So what could he find so difficult to speak of that he needed to hide it from us? I don't understand. Are we not supportive enough?"

"It's not our fault, Tomas," Renee said, confident. "I'm sure that there are extenuating circumstances. There's some sort of explanation. Isn't there, Tune?"

All heads turned to the slender girl at the other end of the table.

Tune bowed her head mutely, looking at her plate as if it held the answers to all her questions. A quick glance up at Davinde found him looking away, awkwardly. He couldn't help her; it seemed that nobody could.

I have to make the right decision...> But what was that decision? To stay true to her charge, or to follow her duty? Keep Ernest's secrets, or share them with his worried parents? Which was the greater betrayal? Could she really refuse to give her knowledge to the people who had hired her for this express purpose, just to protect the privacy of someone who was, in all essence, a child in their care?

They only had his best interests in mind. Tune fixed that fact in her mind, and spoke.

There was a knock on Ernest's door, just as he was getting ready to go to bed.

"Ernest? Can we have a little chat?"

Frowning, Ernest tugged his tunic on and crossed the room quickly. "Father, you know that your health isn't well lately since the storms have been coming. You should get more rest," he continued as he opened the door. "Remember the old catechism, who heals the healer, and--"

Something in the quietly despaired look on Tomas Cuore's face stopped him immediately.

"May I come in?" his father asked, muted.

"Of... of course." He stepped out of the doorway and waved the older man in.

Tomas stepped into the center of the room, and then appeared to lose his nerve. He hovered, gaze skipping from the bed to the chair to the windowsill before visibly deciding to remain standing. He said nothing, only staring at his son with an air almost like mourning.

"What is it? Father," Ernest murmured, growing nervous quickly under that disconcerting expression.

"You know how it is, Ernest," Tomas said heavily. "I understand, I suppose, why you didn't tell us about your young man..."

His heart stopped beating; the blood in his veins turned to ice. Don't do this.>

"And I hope that you understand, as well, why we do what we have to do." Tomas shook his head. "We just... can't have you associating with that kind of person, Ernest."

"We only have your best interests in mind," Renee added from the door. Ernest spun around to face his mother, but didn't make it in time. He only had time to see the carved and painted staff in her hands, raised to the heavens, before he felt the effects of the spell beginning to wrap around his body. The breath rushed out of him in one sharp exhalation as runes flickered across the back of his mind, the language of magecraft echoing in a realm beyond physical hearing -- he felt himself falling, hitting the ground, crying out --

And then there was nothing.

Hahahaha. Ha. *hides*

"Basik" is an obvious reference to basic, fundamental: "basikos" means "fundamental people". Serenity is obvious; Vyusher and Geheim and all the others will be explained in their time. More information on the demon-kin that Zero's group are will follow, as will information about the Collapse and everything else. It'll all come in time.

Next chapter: We switch over to Erts, meet some Seniors, fail to meet other Seniors, and find out more about the mysterious Lady Katri!