A/N: Why do fanfic writers always hurt their favorite characters? I mean, seriously. I was asking Lady Y this and she says it's magic, but I think it's more like... a deep psychological issue that we should all confront after this chapter.

Or, you could just laugh and go "who gives a shit" and keep writing angstfic or HC. Whatever – I love me some good angst.

"So, I was thinking something that would let people know I mean business."

Ond cranes his neck and looks at the two as they enter his hut, and raises an eyebrow.

"Usually those are on your face. You don't want that."

"Who says!"

"Your face."

"Okay, fine."

"What are you doing here?" Ond asks, standing up to face Salamander and Lani. The woman grins easily.

"I'm here for my tattoo. Or, are you withdrawing from the agreement?"

The artist looks her up and down, crossing his arms. "No, I haven't yet been forced to withdraw completely. But who in the hell gave you a job?"

"Nobody," she drawls, sitting in the chair. "Where's the most pain?"

"Usually on the spine," Ond answers, "But then, if you don't have a job...?"

"She's getting one in my stead."

The old Eidechsen looks at Salamander in surprise. The redhead crosses his arms and nods to Lani, "She wants a tattoo, she gets a tattoo."

"You know the Elders won't go for this."

The younger male rolls his eyes and sits, cross-legged, on the ground. "Since when have I given a shit what Eki's father wants? The others are easy enough to pass. She's with me, I'm saying she gets a tattoo. Now, listen to the woman and do what she says, before she castrates both of us."

"You know, I thought you were your father," Ond grins, "Guess I was wrong. Alright, since we're destroying everything I've ever held dear, what is your occupation?"

"I need an occupation?" Lani asks, confused.

"Shit, woman," Salamander shrugs his shoulders, "What did you do before you came here? Wander?"

"That's an occupation," Ond adds.

"...Uh." She bites her lip. "I exchanged goods for money?"

"Bounty hunter," the older Eidechsen easily interjects, ignoring the woman's shocked look, "Hear stories. I thought as much. Now," Ond looks to Salamander, "Are you sure you're willing to do this?"

"Why are you asking me?" he responds, "I'm not the one who wants to do this just because I'm a masochist."

"There's a specific design for warriors of freer nature," Ond tells Lani, deep voice sounding vaguely amused at the two. "Of course, since you're getting this in Coral's stead, we'll have to modify it. It will take around one week. Can you handle that?"

"Don't ask me stupid questions, old man," Lani growls, "I'm ready whenever you are."

"Give me a while to prepare. I haven't got my tools set up for this sort of work... And you need to tell the Elders. I can't give tattoos to people without permission."

"Cheap!"

"It's the way it works. Come back once you've finished convincing the Elders, and I will give you what you want so much."

Lani gets up as Salamander does, and they leave the hut together.

"Do you still want to bother, knowing how much trouble this is?" the redhead asks, and the tanned woman rolls her eyes.

"I don't care. I want what I want and I'll have it."

"Have what?"

The two turn to see Eki standing beside his father, looking vaguely annoyed. The Elder looks at the two critically, paying special attention to Salamander – the younger Eidechsen crosses his arms.

"...Lani is receiving a tattoo in my stead," he says.

"Salamander!" Eki exclaims.

"I will not allow this," the Elder states firmly, cutting off his son's shout.

"You will," the redhead answers, "It is my right as a man. You wouldn't hold a Coral from his own rights, would you?"

"You are not your father!" the Elder growls, "I do not need to give you any consent. The way it has been is not to take outsiders into our home and act as if they have our same-"

"Oh, take your culture and shove it!" Lani exclaims.

"Shut up!" Eki shrieks, beyond angry. "Shut her up!" he orders Salamander.

"Oh, I can't do that." He smirks, "Why would I shut her up if she's just doing what I was going to do?" He nods to the Elder, "I demand your consent."

"You cannot be serious! Salamander, she's Alexandrian!" Eki looks mortified as he says this.

"Shove it, half-pint. It's my right to choose a woman and I picked her. You'll have to deal with it, since no ancient writings or long-standing traditions state I can't pick an outsider."

"This is ludicrous-"

"What I think is ludicrous, Latham, is that you're disallowing my son his rights."

Salamander's father is not a small man by any means. As a matter of fact, even for an Eidechsen, he's rather large. His hair is deep red, darker than Salamander's and has gray streaks, and his beard is short and decidedly unsuitable for a man of his stature. He has tattoos on his face – intricate swirls twist around his chin and swoop along his cheeks, rising up to his hairline and curving together on his forehead. Lani gulps and the redheaded son smirks.

"Gila, this is – this is ridiculous. You cannot possibly support this degradation of our-"

"Take your culture and shove it," Gila snarls, "If my son wishes to have her then Neumond deems I will not let a stupid old man like yourself get in the way."

"Shit," Lani mumbles to Salamander, "I see where you get it."

"And you thought calling him Gila was stupid," the Eidechsen responds lowly.

The Elder looks absolutely livid and the two older males face off. Eki backs up a step, eyes widening. People are stopping to watch the fight, and the bar is slowly emptying because people are coming outside.

"This is stupid," Gila finally says, arms crossing. "There is a battle being fought barely outside of the mountain pass and you've got your head so far up your ass that all you can think of is culture and protocol?" He turns to his son, "Tell Ond that you have my blessings. It shouldn't matter what Latham wants."

"My father is-"

"Your father has only been making ties with the outside world worse," Gila snaps, shutting Eki up. "Go on," he tells Salamander, "I don't think there's anything else you need here."

Salamander nods an affirmative and starts back to Ond's hut – Lani follows quickly. They enter the hut and the tattoo artist looks up, curiously. "Back so quick? He gave you that much consent?"

"My father sends his consent. He says that Elder Latham's opinions don't matter."

The older, massively tattooed Eidechsen stands and cracks his knuckles. "About time your father decided to get that idiot back in place. Your father would have made a better Elder than Latham, you know."

"He keeps telling me that," Salamander groans, "Now, give Lani her tattoo so we can put this all behind us."

Ond looks down at Lani, who is sitting in the chair again. "Do you understand what it means to have a tattoo in Salamander's stead? Or did he gloss over that information?"

The girl waves a hand, "It means I'm fucking him or something. Whatever."

Something about that makes Salamander's head run rampant with rather interesting ideas. He shakes his head in what he hopes is a vaguely amused manner – not the hot and bothered way like it really is.

"If you're that nonchalant about trading sexual favors for something important like this, I don't know if this is the right decision for Salamander," Ond mutters, looking to the redhead, who sighs.

"Just give her the tattoo, Ond. I know what it means. Isn't that what matters?"

"You only have one time to do this and you're already wasting it." Salamander turns to face his father, who leans against the doorframe of the hut, hulking shoulders slumped and head tilted downwards so that he can fit in the frame. "I hope you know what you're doing."

"I wasn't planning on living past twenty, so it makes no difference." The redhead nods to Ond, "You do what she wants, nothing less," and then his father moves out of the hut so his son can leave.

"Twenty? Very specific age," Gila mutters.

"I'd give you dates but that depends on how close they are."

The father and son walk through the deserted village; noontime comes and everyone shuts up for a few hours rest. "So, you've gathered your own brand of information, have you?" the father asks, looking at Salamander in idle contemplation.

"I listen more than I talk and I have people who love to do the same."

"Admes?"

"Used to be him and Eki, but Eki gave out once he realized his father wouldn't approve. Got to give him credit; he's loyal like a dog."

"It wouldn't hurt you to be a bit loyal to me, you know," Gila thinks for a moment, "Still. I don't think it will be much longer. One month. Very most."

"We don't have an army here worth using," the redheaded son murmurs, looking out over the houses and the bar. "Admes, you, myself... Eki, I suppose. Ond."

"Lani." Salamander looks to his father, eyebrows raised slightly. "She's not a trophy woman, you understand that at least?" His son nods, so he continues, "She's willing to fight for this place. If she's willing to take our tattoos and one of our own men, she's willing to fight. Her alone is as if we have ten of our strongest women."

"I understand that." Even though he thinks his father might be exaggerating. Even though thinking of Lani fighting against impossible odds makes him feel strangely... protective, maybe? He doesn't know; emotions aren't his forte.

"I know you do. If the militia doesn't return in time... They won't, I don't know why any of us bother. Did you wonder why there hasn't been any word in over a month?"

"I assumed they were too far out of reach."

"They're in the halls of Neumond, practically all of them. If that's far out of reach..."

Salamander stops, and looks up to the sky briefly. The idea that three hundred of the village – almost half, and mostly all of the able fighters – are out of commission – are dead...

Heavy hands rest on his shoulders.

"I'm sorry."

"...If what's left of them return in time, do we even stand a chance?"

"...The sky's bright today."

The sky's bright today doesn't mean that the weather is nice. When the sky is bright, the clouds are about to come. When the sky is bright, Neumond is at hand.

"The sky is bright today," the son echoes.

Lani looks to be in some horrible kind of pain. Her face – he wants to say her pretty face – is contorted in agony and her eyes are shut tightly, but she hasn't made a noise yet and Ond hasn't had to tell her to relax in the two days he's been working on it.

She's doing better than Salamander did and he doesn't know if this makes him feel jealous or...

Her nails are starting to leave marks in the soft cushion under her head so he leans down and takes one hand in his. Her nails dig into his skin but he doesn't say anything – he wonders if she always digs her nails into people when she's feeling something intense. Wonders if he'd ever have half-moon cuts on his shoulders, hips, back. He pushes the thought away easily and decides he really hates women.

"I'm surprised," Ond mutters, tapping, "This pattern is difficult and yet I'm already halfway done. I wish all of them could be so withstanding."

"Shut up," Lani hisses, "And finish the damned thing."

"It's nearly night – I won't be able to see soon."

"Get a lantern, then. Fucking finish it."

"You're going to pass out if we don't stop soon," Salamander tells the woman, who glares at him through narrowed eyes that shine with tears.

"I don't care."

Ond leans back and sighs, "I do. I never work well at night. You'll have to wait until tomorrow."

She practically screams in annoyance, "It fucking hurts more when you stop!" she exclaims.

"Now you're bitching about it," Salamander sighs, "Come on, get the hell up. It's near dark and I have things I'd rather do than sit here and watch you go through hell."

"Your sympathy is dully noted. Goddamn it, old man, can't you just finish it!"

"No. And if you keep harassing me, I'm just not going to continue. Now get the hell out, I'm getting a headache."

Salamander has always liked Ond – he's old and pissed off. That tended to endear him to most of the village. Lani looks to be more angry than endeared to the old Eidechsen, but that will eventually pass.

One month.

His stomach twists and he feels sick.

"So, are you cooking me dinner?" Lani asks him, and he glances at her idly as they leave the hut. His stomach feels upset and the mere mention of food makes him want to throw up.

"Cook your own damned dinner. I'm going to the bar."

"Is that all you do? Drown your sorrows and shit? God, what a fuckin' waste."

"Look, with a shithole like this, there's not much more to do." Salamander flexes his claws idly.

"You never take those off, do you?" Lani asks, suddenly veering off the original topic.

"What?" He looks at his claws, and then shrugs. "When I'm sleeping. Sometimes. Maybe."

"Are you that paranoid? I mean, really – it isn't like someone's going to murder you in your sleep-"

Hands grab the two and Lani shrieks, hand whipping around and catching their assailant in the mouth.

"Shit," Gila mutters, rubbing his mouth and finding a few bloody scratches, "Damn it, woman..."

"Sorry," she mumbles.

"And you say I'm paranoid," Salamander rolls his eyes, "What is it?"

"...I want you two to come with me," the father speaks lowly.

"Where?" Lani asks, lowering her voice to equal his – Salamander realizes that there's something wrong.

"Reconnaissance. Latham is being incredibly stubborn and I'm starting to get annoyed. He refuses to send anyone out to check the pass – he says it's clear."

"Are all of you Corals so untrusting and paranoid?" Lani asks, crossing her arms, then smirking, "It's cute. Lead the way."

"Don't call my father cute," Salamander growls, and his father chuckles, turning away.

"Don't sound so jealous," he reminds his son, and then leads the way.

The three move easily between the trees – Salamander is surprised that Lani can move about making so little noise. Her occasional, furtive glances back at him assure him that she is thinking the same. His father leads them without making a single noise – he knows where he's going and Salamander wonders how often his father plays spy. He wouldn't be surprised if it was every night – his father is really a very protective man.

"Shh," Gila suddenly stops, holding up a hand. From the sky, it's been about two hours, and they should be about halfway through the pass. The night is clear and far in the distance, Salamander can see burning flames from bonfires.

"Can you smell that?" Lani suddenly whispers.

"I'm surprised you can," Gila responds.

"Smells... bitter. Sour..." Salamander frowns, "Blood?"

"Burning blood. They're cooking something fresh."

"They're close. Who are they?" Lani asks, craning her neck to get a supposedly better look.

"They're danger." Gila turns to Salamander, "How far does that look to you?"

The younger Eidechsen shrugs, looking carefully. "...Two... three weeks walk. Maybe, if they keep a steady pace."

"We don't have any time, then. They're too close."

Salamander's stomach twists and he puts a hand over his mouth, hoping the sour stomach will pass before the fighting begins.

"We'll need to go back," Gila sighs, "We need to tell the Elders. Hopefully they'll have the brains to at least rouse the few good fighters for a last stand..."

"Last stand? Didn't you guys have a bunch more people out there?" Lani asks, confused.

"They're all dead," Salamander rasps, "There's no one in the village who can fight that many."

"What are you talking about? We could totally take them. There's only a few hundred..."

"They've got military training from Alexandria," Gila mutters, "We don't have the power to fight a modernized army like that." He suddenly snarls and punches a tree – it shakes violently. "The fuckers never listened to me! Scheisse!"

"...I guess twenty was aiming too high," Salamander whispers hoarsely, turning. "We might as well go back. Maybe we can at least show we're not insane to the Elders. One last fuck you."

They head back up the pass, silent. Salamander is full of anger and he doesn't know why; why should he be angry? Who should he be angry at? He always knew that they were going to have to defend the village even to the death – he always knew this was going to happen...

They reach the village and it's much later; most everyone is asleep and even the bar seems quiet and drowsy. Gila passes Salamander and heads directly across the fields towards the Elder's hut, located off of the actual village.

Lani passes him as well and then stops. "...I'm..."

Crack.

"Shut up," Salamander hisses, holding up a hand. "You hear that?"

"Hear what?"

Crack.

"Someone's out there." His hand flexes and he turns, slinking towards the tree line. Lani moves forward as well, following him –

He sees the spy move too late and suddenly he can't breathe. Wheezing suddenly, he looks down – oh fuck-

"Red?"

Blood – fuck, he didn't expect this to happen before – he gasps for breath and gags on something wet, grabbing at the arrow shaft in his stomach and stumbling back – fuck –

"Holy shit!"

He feels someone heavy against him and leans back, his eyes won't pull away even for a moment, why is he bleeding so badly? It's not like he isn't –

Isn't –

"Salamander."

He can feel his father's hands on his shoulders, but for the life of him he can't see why there's so much blood –

He can't breathe.

"G...Gh..."

"Shit!"

Lani –

"It's got a poison spell on it. Shit, you don't have healers here?"

He collapses – he can't breathe, why can't he – poisoned?

"Salamander! Get up, for Neumond's sake get up-"

It hurts everything, absolutely everything hurts – something's wrong, he knew it was bad to be shot but – what about the spy, did anyone get him –

"Red, come on, get up, we can't carry you!"

He can see blood – oh, fuck, fuck, he was going to do something first, before this – before –

"Get up, you fucking fool!"

More hands and he has to stand up, he has to – his feet are moving but every step feels like fire and something's definitely – his hands are shaking, everything's shaking –

"He's going to die if you don't have a healer."

Die?

He's going to pass out – they're stumbling on dirt, must be heaven –

Something on his knees, he falls forward.

"What's going on?"

Why is he in this hut? He can feel the bed shaking, someone should stop that –

"What happened!"

"You need to get your father."

"G...g-gah... C-C..."

"Shh."

Must be heaven, must be an angel.

Death toll three hundred and one –

"What in the hell-"

"Help him."

Shut up, shut up, don't sound so fucking scared!

"Gila, I can't just-"

"You have to!"

Hands – stop the fucking bed from shaking he can hardly fucking breathe as it is –

"He's convulsing. He's going to pass out soon, you need to heal him or do something, or else he's as good as dead!"

"Salamander..."

He can't see –

"Move, I don't know if I can do this-"

Rip – he hears himself screaming and he wishes he could smack himself. That's not the way a Coral should act – he's never actually been shot before – he can see glowing light but there's all this dark –

Something soft – something warm pushes against his stomach – he gags on blood and coughs it up , turning his head. Soft muttering – a spell? Admes had always joked – never...

He hears the sound of rushing water and thinks, briefly, maybe this is what the ocean sounds like.

Hosnap, this is doing wonders for my jerry-curl.