Many thanks to the reviewers; Widower, you caught it - Nash only intervened in the duel at Iksay in the manga. I've been kinda taking a middle road between the game and the manga, borrowing elements from each; though if I remember correctly, the manga version of the duel was with Lucia instead of Jimba, so I didn't exactly match either one, eheh - borrowed from each. I believe that was also the one scene that was directly in the game; the exchange with Geddoe, etc., go on that list of "stuff that happened offscreen" that I have that bad habit of fidgeting with.

K'Arthur, thanks for the compliments and the detailed comments. You got me on a couple points - some of the stuff pointed out was out and out mistakes that slipped past me when I was going over it before posting it. The omission mentioned in point four was intentional; while I'm aware it's not a great idea to use poetic devices much in fiction, they work occasionally for emphasis if they can be worked in sounding natural. Also, I tend to find the "don't use semicolons" rule to be much like the "Never use passive voice" rule; it's taught less because it's an actual rule, and more because few teachers want to be bothered teaching how to use it properly. Some of the sentences probably could've been broken up, but usually I use the semicolons when it seems more advantageous to break up the thought briefly, but not as completely as a full sentence break would've done. As for the lyrics…well, I realize not everyone's going to like them, but a large part of this came from listening to that song on repeat, and I don't think would appreciate me posting a duplicate "clean version".

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Even though I'm the sacrifice

You won't try for me, not now

Though I'd die to know you love me

I'm all alone

Isn't something missing?

Isn't someone missing me?

He'd stayed around the edges of the ragged retreat from Chisha, wobbling between being afraid that Chris would recognize him, and a sort of scraped-out-inside feeling at the realization that she didn't. The hollow feeling somehow got worse with the realization that the Knights hadn't been responsible for Zepon's murder, that both Zexen and Grasslands had been played for fools; he'd ended up watching several times as Borus, the one who'd lost control in Karaya, spent almost more time in the Karayan camp than the Zexen running errands for the Karayan commanders, mutely enduring whatever abuse or scorn the Karayan warriors had for him. Percival had taken to drinking with the Lizard Clan, extending an olive branch in spite of what'd happened at Iksay. They had ridden into Chisha unbidden and likely in defiance of the Council, on hearing that Harmonia was attacking again, that Chris was alone helping defend a doomed village that wasn't even Zexen. All sides had made mistakes, but he found himself proud of her and the Knights in spite of himself. Chris had followed through on her childhood wish to become a Knight, and done so with honor. He tried to think of something to say to her sometimes, and found nothing.

Lucia had barely spoken to him, the quiet needling look speaking volumes so she didn't have to. Hugo had hovered nearby a couple times, asking oblique questions about the seal he'd sent and his old stories, with a kind of suspicious look, dropping it after being blown off a few times. He'd taken to avoiding Nash, after hearing that the Harmonian was traveling with Chris to help her find her father; he wasn't sure what to do yet, being in the same camp with her, and didn't want to be pushed into a confrontation when he still didn't know what to say.

Then one evening he looked up from his campfire on the side of the army's camp to see Geddoe in the firelight, standing a few feet away.

"Chris…that's your daughter, right?"

He nodded quietly.

"She's looking for you."

Another numb nod.

"Are you going to talk to her?"

"….Maybe. There's…things I need to do first."

Geddoe was silent, watching him stare into the firelight for a few minutes. "Your call." The old mercenary walked away, leaving him to his camp.

He couldn't talk to Chris as Jimba Cheeva, and he had a promise to keep anyway; there was a new Flame champion, the Firebringers were being patched together out of the Clans and the Zexen Knights. Wyatt Lightfellow was being resurrected whether he liked it or not, and if he was going to do it, he was going to make it complete; unseal the True Water Rune and take his old place in the Firebringers, where he'd actually be able to talk to her and feel slightly taller than two inches.

Would she be angry, that he'd abandoned her for so long? She had every right; he overheard enough, here and there, how she'd driven herself through training following his shadow, the rumors she'd had to deal with, how she'd waited for years before realizing that "Missing" was another word for "Dead" with the bookkeepers…

How she'd dropped everything to go with Nash following the rumor that he might be alive, after they'd almost killed each other in Iksay.

What image did she have, of her father? Was it even possible for him to live up to it anymore, or had "Father" faded into some sort of childhood faerie tale?

He left the army when they came close to the gates of Brass Castle; he didn't want to go back like this. He had too many memories there that Jimba Cheeva was not a part of; he slipped off in the middle of the night, skulking through the woods to avoid Firebringers and Harmonians alike. When he'd come to the edge of the trees northward, he started across the plains, watching for any signs of movement or being followed.

He had to flatten against the canyon wall leading into the Great Hollow to avoid being noticed by the Lizard guards, breaking into a cautious run when he made it to the overgrown side trail to the underground highway. He didn't need light to navigate the tunnel; even dormant the Water Rune remembered the way. The lines on the door to the shrine shimmered softly at his approach; Alma Kinan had released the seal. The doors swung open with a deep grinding sound at his touch.

He sleepwalked the tangled roads to the shrine, letting the memories of the Rune guide his steps; it wanted to be freed again, and when he found himself at the central shrine, he had to take pause. It was as if the Runes determined the path more than the bearers - Hugo was already going from a Karayan teenager to the Flame Champion, and getting the beginnings of the ageless, drifting look in his eyes. Geddoe was almost characterized by it, drifting from battlefield to battlefield like a human stormcloud. Would they all someday be like Geddoe, distanced from humanity, past and any personal ties draining away like sand, living ghosts led by their Runes?

A simple silver orb the size of his fist drifted, waiting. He walked to it, raising his right hand; blue light rippled around it, and the True Rune sigil reformed glowing on the back of his hand. The old power flowed back into him with pins and needles, as if his entire body was a limb fallen asleep regaining circulation; the memories and instincts reawakening, the feel of the shrine as a web of blue light...

The lighter blue of the True Wind Rune and the stark metal points of the Eightfold behind him, with two dimmer auras accompanying.

He looked over his shoulder away from the Rune; the masked Bishop was barely five feet behind him, inside the sanctum, Yuber standing silently beside him with blades out, the light of the Rune reflected in blue and red eyes. Albert had kept back, by the doorway, close enough to be included if they needed to throw up a shield spell but back enough to be out of the way of a fight; the illusion-caller was in the footsteps of the two Runebearers.

"What do you want?!" He didn't need to ask, he'd heard about the confrontation in the Fire Shrine.

"We're here for the Water Rune. It'll be much easier if you give it up peacefully."

"Never.", he snarled, allowing the Rune and the Shrine to lash out, waves of ice forming and crashing against a wind-shield. The Rune seemed to have merged just enough - he let go of the silver sphere, drawing his blade, trying to focus enough to fight while the Rune was still stretching back to its full strength.

As soon as he passed the threshold of the jagged ice, snow, and hail that was filling the sanctum, he hit two slender swords that blocked his blade like a wall. Half step back out of the locked blades, and the Eightfold was on his left side away from his blade, one sword trailing red from his ribcage. The howl of ice and hail changed pitch, a brief shrieking chime, and spread further around the sanctum. Turn towards that to try and attack, and he was impaled from behind. The wind shield was pushed inward, as the rime outside the sanctum crept further, growing more blades. There were two glimmers at the entrance of the shrine, Fire forcing through the outpouring of Water, it and Lightning sparking in answer. It was becoming harder and harder to fight Yuber and keep the Water Rune from screaming out of control; he remembered the conflagration that had ended the last war, most of the Amur Plain would die in a holocaust of ice if he lost his grasp on the Rune.

The metal sparks of the Eightfold reinforced Luc's barrier as Albert edged away from the circle of ice, then turned the rest of their focus on him.