The True Wind Rune brought him just outside that small clearing at the end of the path. It was a dead end. 'Literally,' he thought sardonically. The journeyman crystal marking that path was shining with its soft blue light, blending into the surroundings. The last time Luc had been to this place had been with Tir, and this time was no exception.

It was easy to spot him, the only splash of color in the entire eerily blue place being the green and purple of his bandanna. Luc was surprised to see that he no longer wore the red tunic and yellow pants that he was so familiar with, but a similar outfit that was charcoal and light gray. Luc stood still for a moment, watching Tir brush the fingers of his right hand over the etchings in the gravestone in front of him.

"...I love you, Ted," Luc heard him whisper. "I'll always love you. But every day it feels like the Rune claims a little more of me. Is that how it was for you...?"

The wind mage's fists clenched tightly in sudden anger. Why did they have to suffer like this? The helplessness in Tir's voice triggered a protective streak Luc hadn't felt in a long time. He wanted to save him from it, to give him a way out. That was what he was going to do; he was going to set Tir free from the rune's curse. Harmonia was only providing a means to an end that he supported wholeheartedly.

He walked up behind the kneeling man, stopping suddenly as the metal-shod end of Tir's staff appeared mere millimeters from his neck. Of course. He'd forgotten one of his own major mental notes; never sneak up on Tir McDohl.

"What do you want." It was a hollow-sounding question. Tir didn't even turn to look at Luc; his aim was perfect even without seeing him. "If you have no business in this place, leave."

"I do have business here, Tir," Luc replied quietly, gently pushing the staff's end away from himself. To his mild surprise, Tir allowed him to do so, the staff easing back to the ground at its wielder's side.

"Can I speak with you later, Luc?" Tir still never moved his eyes from the gravestone, his gloveless right hand resting lightly atop it. "Now is not a good time."

Luc felt a deep, smoldering hatred when he saw the unholy glow of the Souleater Rune on the back of Tir's hand. The Rune was tearing Tir apart from the inside out, eroding the strong will and self-confidence that the former Liberation Army leader had always shown. It was transforming him into a closed-off and silent person that Luc barely recognized.

"No, Tir." The wind mage knelt beside him, a silent offering of grudging respect to the spirit of the man who had captured Tir's heart so completely. "Now is the perfect time."

"The perfect time?" Tir repeated, finally shifting his gaze from the stone and giving Luc a disbelieving look. "Luc, this is the worst time. Yesterday. Tomorrow. Any day but today."

"Ah, right. Today is Tir's day to wallow in depression." Luc's eyes narrowed slightly at Tir. "How could I forget that?"

"You don't know what you're talking about, Luc," Tir said softly, looking away. This only annoyed Luc further; the Tir he knew would have had some sort of comeback, would have gotten at least a little bit irked at him for saying such things. It just made him see, once again, the extent of the damage Souleater had inflicted.

"Oh, don't I? You think I know nothing?" Fire danced deep in his emerald eyes, taking on a turquoise cast from the blue valley. "I know what it's like to be dead, Tir. You're worse than dead." Luc pushed himself up, looking down at the kneeling figure in front of him. "Look at you. The Tir I knew wouldn't just sit there and take this. You're nothing but an empty shell that's pretending to be alive. What would i he /i think of you?"

That caught Tir's attention, as he knew it would. He looked up at Luc with lifeless brown eyes, silently waiting for him to continue.

"He died so that you would live, Tir. All of them did. And what are you doing? Drowning in misery because you aren't strong enough to keep going." Luc shook his head, only respect for the dead keeping him from spitting on the rocky ground. "You're hopeless."

"Is that what you think...?" The dark-haired man rose to his feet slowly, pulling his glove back on and rubbing his right hand with his left. "You, who have never heard Souleater's cries for blood...dare to judge me for how I choose to live with my curse?"

"You think I don't understand what it is to live a cursed life? Don't be stupid, McDohl." Narrowing his eyes, Luc caught every move Tir made, distracting him by talking as he observed the very way the ageless man carried himself. "That's why I tried to rid myself of it. It's also why I'm here to see you."

Tir looked at him suspiciously, shifting a little so that his hand rested on his staff defensively. "What do you want, Luc?"

"Put that away, McDohl." Luc took a step toward him, feet crunching a little on the sandy rock. "I'm not going to hurt you."

"Answer my question." The Souleater's chosen was more defensive than Luc remembered him, and that hurt more than he wanted to admit. The rune was dangerous.

"I want to help you." Luc held out his left hand, palm up.

"Help...how could you help me...?" A bit of Tir's mask slipped, allowing Luc to see some of his turbulent emotions in his usually so expressive eyes. "You can't even help yourself." The bitterness in his voice struck a very familiar chord in the shorter man.

"I can help you. Just trust me."

Hesitantly, Tir reached out his left hand and took Luc's. "...Alright."

The world rippled, and the two eternal youths disappeared from the blue-tinted nightmare of Seek Valley.