A/N:

Adult content notice for this chapter, and many more to come in future chapters. It was bound to get here eventually. ;)

Also, the first portion will be switching the PoV from Ava to James. Hope that's not too much whiplash for anyone. I'm still keeping Ava as the only first-person PoV.

James

No time to lose; there's valuable information being shared, and James is missing it. He's fortunate that Ava didn't contest his request that she head back. Hardheaded as she is, he knows he certainly caught a break.

His toes make no sound as he slips through the shade of the trees until he's close enough to both hear and see the conversation taking place between the mages and the bounty hunter.

"Magic as the culprit or not," says Lynne, "Ava is haunted. I am assuming this is the same demon you have been coping with for ages, Aerefyr?"

James's fingers grip into his gloves. So it is a demon after all. Why are they not treating this like an emergency, if there is a demon in direct contact with Ava? Can't they just kill it and be done?

The giant bounty hunter nods, looking more worried than James has ever seen him.

"The very same. I hadn't realized it'd fully targeted her, or I'd have acted quicker. Question now is, how do we deal with this?"

"Well, how have you dealt with it all this time? And why no exorcism?"

"Before Ava came along, I used wards in my backpack. Then that bloody rogue waltzed in and stole all of it, leaving us both exposed." Aerefyr sighs. "Exorcisms aren't necessary because it's not possessing either of us; it's not capable of that. It's really just a poltergeist. I couldn't warn Ava about it, because I know demons can hear thoughts born of fear. I've kept her in the dark for her own good. But that certainly doesn't mean it hasn't affected her. She's been having terrors nightly, and the thing actually materialized in front of her a few days back, when we were on the ship. She was seen with it, blamed, and imprisoned. Gods only know what it's been saying to her now that it hasn't been warded. I tried to plant a seed of doubt in her mind by telling her it was an illusion, mostly to keep it at bay."

"And has it worked?"

"I have no idea. She has closed off, and for good reason. I'm the last person suited to communicate anything to anyone."

Both mages, as well as James himself, all unintentionally nod in unison at this.

James leans in, realizing now that he needs to be a part of this conversation. Aerefyr is not the bad guy after all. There is a demon involved, and Ava is in danger. And James has information that they need.

"It hasn't worked," James announces, making himself visible and walking out from behind the tree.

All three people turn to look at him, Aerefyr looking particularly peeved. Oh, if there's one perk in all this, it's pissing off the man with a stick up his ass.

"Erm, welcome back to the discussion?" Ferris lifts one eyebrow.

Aerefyr looks like he's about to kick James out, but James holds up his hands, surrendering.

"Listen, I'll leave as soon as I've told you what I need to say. Ava doesn't trust you, Aerefyr, no thanks to me. She believes the demon is a spirit. It is poisoning her against you. It has her halfway convinced that you've enslaved the spirit and plan to enslave her, so that you can steal her power."

"What?! Me, controlling demons?" Aerefyr spits on the ground. "And she told you?"

"She did, if you'll believe it, trust me with that information. Who else could she confide in? The poor woman has been yanked across alien continents and expected to stay levelheaded and sane through it all."

Aerefyr sighs. "And I'm sure you didn't help her trust me any better."

"In my defense, I told her not to trust either of you."

Suddenly, Lynne pushes past Aerefyr and addresses James with concern.

"Hold on. Where is Ava?"

"I sent her to wait in my room."

A look of dread covers Lynne's face. "The demon could have read my thoughts when I studied Ava's magic. I sensed its presence, and it had to have picked up on that, or even read my thoughts. I'll admit I felt fear upon my discovery of demonic involvement."

"Which means whatever it's been planning, it realized it was out of time as soon as we shooed her away," Ferris finishes the thought. "Whatever it's going to do, it's going to do it now."

James and Aerefyr share a mortified glance of understanding and bolt off toward the inn. Aerefyr's giant legs give him an upper hand, and he dashes past the human, pulling ahead easily.

This elven speed turns out to be more negative than positive, because as soon as the two come into view of the Blue Recluse, a resonant crack echoes through the area, hitting James like a shockwave through his chest. It knocks him backward into the soft grass, and as soon as he lifts his head, he sees the side of the inn explode outward in a mess of shattered wood and dangerous shrapnel. Fyr is too close, and he catches the worst of the blast. A thick, spiraling chunk collides with Fyr's head, and another impales his ribs, and he's flattened as well. He doesn't move.

Shouts and screams sound from all around, muffled through James's ringing ears, and he forces himself onto his unsteady feet and runs toward the explosion. An inhuman roar vibrates through the air, chilling James to the bone. It came from the inn.

"Ava!"

A crowd of people push past him, fleeing, and he's shoved back, unable to find a space through.

"AVA!"

He pushes forward harder, but the stampede is too great. He catches an armored elbow to the temple and tries to shake the disorientation out of his already unstable skull, dipping his head for half a second to gather his balance. Crimson blood drips from where he's been struck, but before he can stand, another person collides straight into him, throwing him onto the ground amidst trampling feet.

Ava

Maybe if I were wiser, I'd have gone to college and met a nice guy, settled down, worked in an office, driven an SUV...

Maybe if I were wiser, I'd have driven the damn speed limit on that highway when the skies were trying to drown me, instead of trying to achieve the speed of light.

Maybe if I were wiser, I'd have kept a cooler head and kept a shrewder mind when a freaking demon tried to manipulate me into opening a portal straight to what I'm assuming is its home world.

Maybe if I were wiser, I'd be home right now.

Unfortunately for me and those who know me, I am not that wise. I am not that levelheaded. I am not that smart.

Unfortunately for me, I've just made the biggest mistake of my life, and it's not just me who's paying for it.

I come to consciousness just long enough to see Fyr and James both lying unresponsive not too far away from me with blood streaked down their faces. We're all in some sort of infirmary with robed nurses everywhere tending to injured innocents. I start to mumble their names, but a nurse blocks my vision with his body and leans in, puts his hands on my temples, mutters something, and I drift off into nothingness.

The second time my eyes open, I'm in a very different setting. Still looks like an infirmary, but a more 'official' one. We have narrow beds with separators between them for privacy, and I'm uncomfortable with how 'alone' it makes me feel. I prop myself up with a pillow. My head pounds so hard it blurs my vision, and I scrunch my eyes shut and gasp. The pain throbs from the back of my neck, all the way up and around, and into my eyes. Over and over, like seconds on a clock.

Tick, tock. Thud, thud.

It makes me nauseous. Honestly, I could throw up right now.

I don't even notice someone has approached me until a hand rests on my shoulder. I barely react; the pain is so extreme, I can't focus on anything else.

The hand moves up to the base of my skull, and the fingers pinch into the aching muscles there and begin to massage. A cold, soothing magic seeps into the area as it does so, providing such extreme relief that I give a whimper and relax, letting my head hang forward. The healing wave washes into my shoulders, head, and skull, washing away the pain until I'm left in weightless bliss.

I don't know who's doing this, but they're my new favorite.

"Thank you," I manage to croak.

"It's what I'm here for," a feminine voice sounds as the owner of the magic hand, and I crack my eyes open and glance over. Strands of my hair have escaped my braid and hang over my eyes, but I see her. It's the woman I'd met earlier. Lynne.

"You can heal?"

"Yes."

"I thought you were a mage?"

"No, Ferris is. I study magics, but I am more attuned to holy Light than anything."

"Well...regardless, I'm pretty sure you just saved my life."

She chuckles warmly. "You are very welcome."

Suddenly, I remember James and Fyr.

"The other two, are they-?"

"They are resting. James is fully recovered. Aerefyr will take some time."

"What happened..?"

"A legion portal was summoned in the center of the Blue Recluse. A portion of the walls shattered outward and injured many, including your friends. Two were killed. Demons have been invading the area for nearly an hour now and have caused a great deal of damage, but we have enough reinforcements now that they've cleansed the city and killed the foul creatures. Word has been sent to Dalaran for help to close the portal." She pauses. "Apparently the power used to summon it was so great, they are struggling to find anyone who can help close it."

I lose my breath.

I summoned it. It's my fault. All of it is my fault. I hurt everyone. I killed people. Two of them. And I don't even know their names.

I'm so fucking stupid.

I still haven't been able to inhale. I've legitimately choked on my own guilt, and I'm being strangled. My stomach tightens in a knot, and I feel the urge to gag.

Finally I'm able to lean over my bed and vomit onto the floor, and then I suck in a deep gasp, and just as quickly let out a sob.

"It's me. It's all my fault," I've finally begun to truly cry. It's intense and painful, tugging from the center of my chest, choking me, drowning me. I've never felt so horrible and stupid and guilty in my life.

Two assistants swoop in and clean the mess off the floor in a matter of seconds, and hand me a basin and a cup of water. I'm crying too hard to do anything with either, so I sit there awkwardly holding both in my lap.

"Miss Warner, you need to take a deep breath," Lynne instructs, "or I'll have to sedate you before you wake or frighten our other patients."

I sob a few more times but finally am able to suck in deeply, granting my brain some much-needed oxygen. Lynne inhales with me, and then exhales slowly, motioning for me to do the same. I exhale shakily, breath hitching with leftover sobs. Then we inhale again. And exhale. And inhale. And exhale.

Then she takes my cup of water and holds it to my lips. I pull some into my mouth and swish it through my teeth, then spit in the basin to clean my mouth. Then I take a couple sips. My eyes lift from the water, catching movement in my peripheral.

They land on James, who's standing at the foot of my bed with a bandage around his forehead. He's studying me, and I wish he wasn't. My nose and eyes are red and puffy, I'm sure, and I'm a fucking mess. Part of me is terrified of what he's thinking of me, after what I've done, and the other part of me knows I deserve every bit of it. I begin quietly crying to myself again, unable to stop it.

"Is she alright?" his voice carries softly.

Lynne nods. "Just coping."

"Ava," he calls gently, approaching me and sitting on the edge of my bed. "Everything's going to be ok."

This just worsens my guilt. He shouldn't be coddling me. No one should.

"I k-killed people," I say, the words stinging as they exit. "I got you and Fyr hurt, and so many others."

"Shhh," he whispers. "We need to keep that quiet, Love. No one else knows who has done it, and not everyone will understand why."

"Understand why? It's because I'm a gullible moron," I whisper back, forcing myself to drink more water to calm down.

"I've heard of lesser demons manipulating greater heroes, Ava. You are not the first person this has happened to. I was fooled, too, remember? If anything, I should have been the one to know it was more serious than I believed. You have no experience here, you had no chance of knowing or preparing yourself for the situation you were put in. Not only that, but demons have the power to sway the mind to their will; for all we know, further foul play could have been involved here, something you couldn't hope to control." He sighs. "But we really do need to keep this quiet, alright? I wasn't kidding when I said everyone's on edge regarding demons. It'll be a witch hunt if you're found out."

I nod slightly, looking at my lap. "Is Fyr alright?"

James glances at Lynne, "He will be."

Then he stands.

"Lynne, mind if I get her out of here? Just to get some fresh air. I need to discuss a few things with her."

Lynne nods, then puts a hand on my shoulder. "We will soon talk further about your return home and Ferris's speculations. We're going to get you home."

Tears well up in my eyes, but I blink them away, nod at her gratefully, and carefully climb out of the infirmary bed. James leads me past rows of beds and out the door, down some stone steps, and past more tall buildings. We're in a different district than the one with the mages. It's more open, and looks wealthier. Off in the distance, I see white smoke rising lazily into the evening sky. It's coming from within the city, and I wonder if it has anything to do with what I did. The pink sunset ignites the smoke in vibrant color, masking its sinister source with beauty.

James leads me to a small park-like area with trees and a small patch of grass, and sits down in the plush, soft area. I follow suit, sucking in breaths of the sweet air and trying to clear my mind of the muddy confusion I've been feeling this entire time.

"Aerefyr was aware of the demon this entire time," James says solemnly.

Before I can react in shock, he continues.

"He was aware of it, and he did everything he could think of to keep you safe from it, whilst also keeping you unaware. Demons can read fear and understand its origin. They can read your thoughts when you're afraid. So he didn't tell you about it, because he thought it'd give him enough time to fix it without you being put in real danger. He thought the only thing it was doing was giving you nightmares."

This stuns me.

"He was...protecting me?"

"I overheard all of it when I went back. Aerefyr apparently was dealing with a demon long before you came along. He had warded himself against it by carrying runes in his backpack—yes, the same one I stole," he smirks wryly. "If I hadn't stolen it, he probably could have helped you before it all came to this."

"We all have our regrets," I mutter as I run my hands along the soft, pale grass.

"And we can't let them consume us," James adds in. He reaches forward and lifts my chin with his knuckle gently, so that I make eye contact with him. "Hey."

I blink at him, self-conscious under his unwavering gaze.

"It was purely an accident. Do you understand?"

My teeth grit tightly together. Sure, I'll admit, there was a part of my brain and my panic that I know wasn't coming from me. It was like I wasn't in full control. But I don't know if that's legitimate, or if I just am in denial of the fact that I caused the deaths of innocent people.

"If we all gave up on ourselves every time we make an innocent mistake, there'd be none of us left. I understand the guilt, and I feel it too. It hurts. But you can only feel it so deeply before it's unhealthy. You have to be able to disconnect and accept what's happened for what it is."

I process what he's saying, and finally nod. "Okay."

"Bad shit happens sometimes. Sometimes we contribute to it in our own unintentional ways. We have to accept that."

I nod again. Holy shit, here he goes surprising me with this other side of him I had no idea existed. And here I thought I had him pegged as the annoying, selfish, occasionally hot thief. I always forget how complex people can be.

"Thanks, James."

"Anytime, Gorgeous."

His eyes capture me and for a second make me forget everything else. "Everything's going to be fine."

I smile at him, and he smiles back, wiping an old tear off my cheek with his thumb and then sitting back.

"Are you hungry?"

I shake my head. I have absolutely no appetite, even after completely voiding my stomach earlier.

He nods. "Even so, we still need to find a new place to stay."

So, everything James had in his room at the inn is gone. Completely gone. Fyr's and my things were buried in rubble, but both of our bags survived and have been found by James before scavengers could take them.

He has set me up in an inn about two blocks from the Blue Recluse. I've learned this part of the city is appropriately called the "Mage District" and houses the types one would expect to be attracted to magic.

Before leaving, the rogue had made an ill-timed joke about how I should try not to explode another building, then left me there while he went back to survey the damage and find our things, if possible.

He returned about an hour later, tossed our bags in the corner of the room, and leaned his hip against the dresser. I'd been dozing on the bed, not able to actually fall asleep yet, but now that I have someone else in the room, I feel exhaustion hitting me. Still, I don't know if I can sleep right now, really.

"So, the portal has not yet been closed, even after sitting in the center of the district for hours," James announces with a surprised twinge to his voice. "As far as I could tell, they've 'frozen' it enough that it isn't fully active, but it is still very much a massive green rift in the center of what used to be a building. Guards have cordoned off the surrounding layer of buildings as well just in case, but I got in and out pretty easily. Found your bags under a collapsed wall. Mine are gone, of course, considering where the portal was created..."

My eyes drop to the floor.

James laughs at my expression. "Don't fret over a few lost papers and forgeries. I have the ones I need." He waits a moment, then returns to the subject of the portal. "We have champions of the Broken Isles here defending; the demons will not get past them. At this point, considering everything those men and women have endured in the ongoing fight offshores, this is like a walk in the park for them."

A couple seconds pass, as if James is gathering bearings to say what he says next.

"And as for me," he murmurs, "I'm leaving."

My eyes flick up from studying my hands. "How come?" I can't say I'm surprised.

He looks like he's juggling between two different explanations, and I wonder if either are even close to the truth. "Some of my old guildmates contacted me about a...job." his eyes dart between mine, and then his shoulders relax. "You know what? I can just tell you. You already know what I do. We've been contacted about a heist, and it's big. I mean really big, Love. Can't turn it down."

"That's it, then?"

Apology flickers across his features. "Aye, tonight. I'm sorry. Like I said, I really can't turn it down. But, you're in good hands. I am sure you will be well looked after, and Aerefyr is on the mend. I can't be around when he wakes up. I helped him break you out of jail, but I feel that deed only stretches so far before I have to worry about being arrested in my sleep. And now that you know he's on your side, you have nothing to worry about."

I slump back, letting my shoulders press into the wall behind me as I sit on the bed. "I'll miss your inappropriate compliments."

"I'll miss giving them," he grins. "I'll be back eventually, but...by then, hopefully you won't still be here. No offense, of course," he winks.

"No, I agree," I laugh slightly.

He places a few things into my purse, then walks across the room to me and takes my left hand, smiling at me with those mischievous eyes.

"In another life, you'd be my queen, Ava Warner," he murmurs softly, placing the key to this room in my palm, then kisses my fingers and walks out the door, shutting it behind him and leaving me in silence.

I'll admit, him leaving doesn't feel as big as it should. Maybe that's because the last however many times he walked away from me, I saw him again almost immediately. But now I get the feeling this is more permanent.

Knowing I won't be getting much sleep tonight after what happened today, I stuff the key in my pocket, grab my bag, and head back to the infirmary. It's nearly dark out, the sky no longer lit up by the colors of the sunset, and all I have for lighting is the faint grey light overhead, and an occasional blazing torch. Despite not having been here in this city for very long, i realize that it's quite easy to maneuver. The canals help, and there are signs everywhere, not to mention I did my best to memorize directions when heading back with James earlier.

I wander more than I'd like to admit, avoiding dark roads and people in dark garb standing in doorways, but before long, I find what I'm looking for and head inside. Lit by candles, nurses still bustle about tending to sick and wounded, and I seek out Fyr's bed. It takes me a minute, but I finally see a blanketed outline of a giant elf under white sheets, much larger than the humans around.

He's still asleep, and I grab the attention of a nearby nurse.

"How is he?" I nod toward the elf. "What all is wrong with him?"

The woman speaks quickly. "We have him induced with a healing tonic. He took about fifty shrapnel splinters to the front of his body, and one large one to the chest. He also suffered a head injury and is under close monitoring for brain damage."

"Brain damage?!"

"Minor, don't worry," she shrugs. "He is going to be perfectly fine; most of the reason we kept him under was to manage the pain of the shrapnel. He will be free to go tomorrow once he passes our examinations."

"Thank you," I call out, because she's already started walking away, obviously busy.

Then I look down at Fyr. His face is peaceful, like the last time he was knocked out by poison. He's got cuts on his cheeks, neck, shoulders, and what I can see of his chest. They're like tiny little whip marks, peppering his taut, lavender skin. It makes me feel awful, because it's my fault.

Feeling very small, I sit on the floor with my back to the wall beside his bed, and wrap my arms around my bent legs, resting my chin on my knees.

Time ticks by slowly, and I dip further and further into thought, letting my eyelids become heavier.

"...Ava?"

I have to squint against the jarring light around me. Apparently it's morning, and my whole body feels like it's been filled with cement. I don't think I moved for at least six hours.

Searching for who said my name, my eyes land on Fyr, who's sitting upright, tying his boots. He's looking at me curiously.

"How long have you been there?"

It's weird now, hearing his voice and not being wary of it. Extreme guilt threatens to suck me under, just thinking about how easily I was swayed against him. How easily I distrusted him, after everything he's done for me. With difficulty, I meet his silver eyes. Now that I know I was in the wrong, it's like I'm seeing him for the first time all over again. I'd turned him into something dark in my head, but here he is, in all his normal glory. He's just Fyr, a regular guy. He's not an evil, spirit-controlling monster alien.

I'm glad he can't read the turmoil in my mind, and I'm glad he has no idea the things I was starting to think of him this last week.

"H-hi," I croak, groaning as I straighten out my legs and back. I don't want to stand yet. "Um, it's been...all night, I guess."

"Why did you sleep on a floor..?" he mutters, shaking his head and turning his attention back to his shoes.

"It wasn't on purpose..."

"Where's your criminal boyfriend?"

"He's not my boyfriend, and he left."

Fyr lifts a slender brow, hesitating with his laces. "Entirely?"

"Yep. Went off with his guild last night."

"...He left you alone?"

I hesitate. I expected him to be mad about the guy leaving, not the guy leaving me particularly.

"Well, I have a room in another inn. He got our stuff out of the rubble for me, including your backpack. Now you'll have your runes back! Though, I don't think they'll be all that necessary now..."

"But he still left you on your own, in the middle of an unfamiliar city, at night, with nobody? Not to mention it wasn't even five hours after you endured a legion assault."

Fyr sounds like he's getting legitimately pissed.

"Why do you care?" I give a hesitant laugh, slowly standing upright and stretching my stiff muscles. "I found my way back here, didn't I?" My voice is more of a grunt when I stretch.

"That's not the point," he grumbles, tying the laces a little too harshly and then standing up. "How are you feeling?"

"I feel like I should be asking you that." His clothes are bloodstained and tattered; he really doesn't look great.

"Bloody fantastic." He has a glint in his eye that shows he's truly angry about James leaving. But it's a different kind of anger than what I'm used to seeing, different from when I broke his teapot, different from his feud with James. Those were irritation. This is something else.

Then he turns his gaze onto me directly, and I wilt under it, despite knowing he's not angry with me.

"You and I need to have a chat," he hums, stepping aside for me to walk past him so we can leave together.

I do this, and we exit the infirmary. Fyr drops a sizeable donation of three gold coins from his pocket into the box as we leave.

"So..." he says the second we're out of earshot, "Due to your mention of my anti-demon wards, I'm assuming James has informed you of whatever he overheard during my conversation with Ferris and Lynne. First and foremost, I need to apologize to you for shutting you out. I thought it was the safest thing to do, considering you weren't in control of your magic. Turns out, I did more harm than good there."

I shake my head, struggling to keep up with his stride, "No, it's my fault, Fyr-"

"-Yours, mine, James's, doesn't matter. That's not what I care about here. What I care about is that I ultimately put you in danger and should have understood this. And I did not consider it. And I am sorry."

"You couldn't have known it'd all turn out like this."

"I knew I've had a demon following me for quite some time now, and I should have known that it'd be interested in someone as powerful and gullible as you. No offense."

I keep hearing that phrase today, "No offense!" As if I ought to be offended by the truth, or...?

"Sure, I'm gullible and clueless here, but that doesn't excuse me panicking and overreacting either. I am sorry, too. I hurt you and tons of others, and..." I hesitate at the following word, almost choking on it, "killed people, because I was being stupid. And I'm going to have to carry that."

A couple quiet seconds drag past.

"The demon is no longer haunting us, and I count that as a silver lining," Fyr hums, slowing his pace a little once he notices how much I'm struggling to keep up with him. I definitely hadn't missed that part of traveling with the giant.

"Yeah," I change the subject, "why was he doing that? And why was he rhyming?"

Fyr glances back at me. "Rhyming?"

"He appeared in front of me as a little boy and spoke in weird, fragmented rhymes, and it confused the fuck out of me. I couldn't tell if he was saying your name or the actual word, 'fear', and it seemed more trouble than it was worth."

The tall man freezes for a second, then bursts into unexpected laughter.

"That slimy bastard was rhyming at you?!"

I just raise my eyebrows at him, waiting for an explanation and trying not to let his laugh infect me. It's a rare laugh, deep and resonant, the type you feel in the center of your chest.

"Oh, that is pure gold..." Fyr trails off. "He must have found a way past a silencing curse I managed to cast on him years ago. It wasn't complete, because I'd never used that type of spell, but...ha! It must have tampered with his communication. I was aware he could still communicate in other ways, but I didn't have to worry about him messing with my dreams anymore..."

I make a mental reminder that Fyr has a strange sense of humor, and then realize something else.

"Wait, you used to use magic?"

"I thought that was evident."

"James said you don't use magic."

"I do not, currently. I did at one time, though."

"So you found a way to get rid of it?"

"My magic is dormant. I've barely touched it in decades, ever since I muzzled the demon, and it's gotten...rusty, since."

"...Oh." Then I tilt my head. "Decades? How long has that demon been following you? And why?"

Fyr lets out a delayed sigh. "That is... a long story."

"I'd like to hear it, if that's an offer."

The tall man nods. "Very well. But I need water, first."

I enthusiastically lead him back to my room at the inn and settle us both in, giving him one of the water skins James left behind. It's kind of backward, like this is the first time I've helped him, and it's nice. I feel mildly useful, rather than a nuisance.

He thanks me for the water and drinks his fill, and I flop down onto the bed, letting my aching back stretch out flat into the softness and waiting patiently for him to begin his 'long story'.

"When I was very young, still considered an adolescent with my people, I was quite skilled in the Arcane arts," Fyr begins, sinking himself down into the other side of the large bed. I can still see his face upside-down from where I'm lying, and I watch him.

"Young enough to look like a little kid?" I wonder aloud, curious if this was going in the same direction as the vivid dreams I was given for so long.

"Not particularly; think more like...a young adult. Like a...what age is it with you humans? Eighteen? Like an eighteen-year-old."

I picture eighteen-year-old Fyr, and it makes me smile for some stupid reason.

He continues, "Like I said, I was good at magic. And I was a young man with a lot of confidence, yet very little experience." Then he pauses, like he's changing course. "Near our settlement in Feralas was a small town, where pilgrims and pioneers from the Eastern Kingdoms had just begun to venture out and expand. One particular human couple, I'd known for three decades. I believe you know their names."

"Gertrude and Halvard," I recite the names from my dreams.

"Yes. They were very doting. They adored us young elves who'd come visit the town. They said I reminded them of their son, despite the fact that I was more than twice their age. And I'll admit, I took quite a liking to them as well. We would share stories, hunt together, break bread together...I became quite fond. I'd bring them gifts from my village, and they would tell stories of their old home and the places they'd been."

The way Fyr talks about them, it's so full of melancholy, it makes my heart tug. He genuinely loved these people, or at least, that's what it feels like on my end.

"But I also had my duties at home. I had magical studies; I came from a line of Arcanists with a lust for power and knowledge. The more inclined your family and offspring were toward magical abilities, the higher your social status in my community. And there were two families at the top: mine, and Iyara's. You met her in Feralas; she intervened with the bandits, remember?"

I nod. I remember that the tension between Iyara and Fyr was real as hell. "Yeah, I remember her. She was pretty salty about you having left a long time ago, as far as I could gather."

"Well, I didn't just leave, I abandoned her, our marital engagement, and my family."

I stare at him. "You were...engaged to her? And you left? What the fuck, dude?"

"It was arranged," he gives a chuckle at my sudden defense of a woman I don't know. "It had been arranged since we were born. As we got older, she continually clung to the idea while I shied away. And when she started demanding we get around to procreating, well, that was too much. Sure, she herself was quite attractive to a younger me, and I'll admit our physical chemistry was strong, but that was about the extent of it. I did give in to her once or twice, if you catch my meaning, but I did everything in my power to ensure that it wouldn't result in offspring, and she resented me for not giving her what she wanted. She was unbearable and high-nosed like the lot of them, and she actually believed in the 'selective breeding' bullshit they tried to force down our throats. She assumed that due to my magical acuity, I would make a perfect 'stud'."

Still staring at him, but now for a different reason, my mouth has dropped open slightly. "These people were for real? I mean...that's borderline cult-like. Not to mention just...weird. And fucked up."

He begins chuckling at my bluntness and nods. "At the time, the only voice of reason came from my 'human godparents'. I'd go speak to them when I became overwhelmed with my home situation."

"So they're what kept you from giving in and living the life everyone expected from you?"

"They're what helped me escape it, yes. But not really in the way you think."

I watch him expectantly.

"I met a demon," he sighs. "And I knew it was a demon, and I still, at that point, was desperate enough and confident enough to think I could use it as an escape."

He sees my questioning expression, and before I even have to ask how that would work, he clears his throat to clarify.

"I wanted to fake my own death, so that I wouldn't be followed or retrieved. I wanted to set a demon loose in the middle of town and have it go on a rampage, including burning down my home, with a corpse already inside. Demons weren't that rare at the time, especially near a place so concentrated with magic."

"...A corpse?"

"I exhumed one from a graveyard outside of the humans' town. Stupid idea, considering that in itself is a great way to become haunted, and the skeleton was a bit too small, but like I said, I was desperate and young and stupid."

This story is getting weirder and weirder by the second, but I'm so engrossed in it by now that I don't realize I've scooted up to where I'm sitting two feet from him, studying his face while he tells his tale.

"So," I say slowly, "you dug up a dead person and put it in your house at the behest of a demon who found you out of nowhere..?"

"It was attracted to the magic of the place, and then was attracted to my unhappiness. It contacted me when I was at my worst point and when I felt the most trapped."

That sounds familiar. The parallels are uncanny here.

"Was it the same demon that fooled me?"

"The very same, indeed."

I blink a couple times. "So...your plan didn't work?"

"I trusted a demon. Of course it didn't work," he sighs. "As soon as I performed the necessary spell to give it the power it needed to destroy what I wanted it to, it turned on me - like demons do. It targeted what I cared about most and destroyed it instead."

"The human couple," I complete the thought.

"Like a knife through butter, and I was powerless at the time; my magic had been tapped. And then it moved on to my home and burned everything inside it, except for one item I managed to save: that backpack over there on the floor," he motions to his frayed, old burlap pack. "It was a gift from Halvard. It's all I have left of both of them."

I sit there in silence, feeling the weight of it all sitting on both of us. I glance at Fyr. His expression shows that this might be the first time he's ever relayed the story to anyone, and it's affecting him harder than he expected it to.

"So you didn't just want it back because it had warding runes in it," I say quietly. "It really was sentimental."

"I...I do have wards, but they are useless," he finally confesses. "I said that because the demonic warding runes are actually inked on my skin as a permanent block against the creature. Writing or uttering demonic is severely restricted in many societies, let alone tattooing it to your skin. But it worked."

"Isn't there some way to banish a demon? I feel like I heard James mention that they can be gotten rid of."

"There is," he chews on his inner lip like he doesn't want to admit something. It's like this whole conversation is just him hesitantly confessing one thing after another.

"I came to learn that having a demon attached to me made people get out of my way. They didn't even know why they were doing it, but they felt fear when I was around. They gave me space, and I...enjoyed it. Especially in the line of work I ended up taking. Mercenary and bounty hunter both benefit with a fear factor."

I think on that for a moment. "It was your own personal person repellent."

He nods, not saying anything.

"So, what happened after everything went down with the demon? What did your family do?"

"I was emotionally and mentally drained enough at that point, I simply went to my family and flat-out told them I was disowning the entire community. They tried to stop me, and they failed. And I left. It was a harsh rift, and it took nearly a century before they stopped sending people after me. When I would visit, it was sporadic. Once every few decades."

It's still so strange for me to hear him use words like 'century' and 'decades' as if they're as simple as weeks and months.

A few long, loaded seconds tick past, and I inhale softly.

"So..." I hesitate, unsure if I should continue, but I finally do. "Am I the first person you've shared this with?"

He turns his head to look at me, his attractive, angled silver eyes studying mine. He's always so freaking beautiful, I can't help but exhale wistfully. Maybe it's because the demon is gone, or maybe it's because he's just shared this extremely intimate, complex story about his life with me, but I feel like he's warmer and even more attractive than before.

"Yes, you are."

I blink. "Thank you for trusting me."

"Thank you for listening," he gives a partial smile. "It's admittedly nice to lay it all out in order for once. It's like I needed that as a form of closure."

"I mean, it certainly doesn't hurt that the demon that killed them is finally gone."

He smirks. "Also true."

He sits there, studying my face and letting his eyes flick between mine. He has this curious look on his face that I've never seen. It's definitely positive, but I have no idea how to describe it other than sort of like admiration, but not quite.

"You have adjusted to this world surprisingly well, for someone so unaccustomed," he finally breaks the silence. "I...will admit, as soon as I realized you were an outsider, I felt some remorse for how I treated you."

I grin. "Is that an apology?"

"That is a..." he sits up straighter, looking all ceremonious, "It is forgiveness for breaking my teapot."

Laughing, I think back. He really did change the way he acted around me, right about the same time as he found out I wasn't from Azeroth. He became less harsh, and weirdly more detached. Maybe because he understands that I'm not permanent; I'm going home. Maybe that's why he told me about his past, too. I won't be here long, anyway.

"Fyr, I think all things considered, you've treated me incredibly well for someone you're not responsible for."

"Well, I'm a little responsible for you," he laughs.

I pause. "Why's that?"

He pauses as well. "I... don't know."

"Shit," I giggle, "I've given you an excuse to bolt, too."

His eyes flick to my grin, and he mirrors it with one of his own.

"Yeah, you've done it now," he chuckles and stands, walks to his backpack, and without warning me, loses his shirt.

I freeze there on the bed, eyes glued to his gigantic lean frame shirking his tattered clothing.

Finally I find my voice.

"Whaaatcha doing?"

He turns back to look at me, catches the way I stare at his scar-laden body, and laughs through his nose. "I'm covered in blood still, and my clothes are ruined."

Calmly, he heads over to the washtub in the corner and begins filling it with steaming water, and retrieves a small rag. He dips it in the water and gently begins to scrub off the dried blood and leftover scabs from the wood shrapnel he'd been hit with yesterday. I watch him struggle (but try to hide it) to reach the backs of his arms and shoulders, and without thinking about it, I get up and walk over to him, and take the rag from his hand.

He hesitates and glances at me, releasing it, watching my next moves.

I dip it in the water, squeezing out the reddish tinge, and walk beside him, standing on my tiptoes and very carefully soothing the soft, hot cloth over the cuts and bruises on his large left arm. I don't notice him watching me as I dive into the work, washing away the evidence of my great mistake.

Then I move to his ribs and chest, trying to ignore the way it makes my cheeks flush pink and my heart rate quicken as I run my hand along his firm, smooth, occasionally tattooed flesh. I run the steaming washcloth from his sternum to just under his navel, letting the hot vapor seep into what are probably very sore muscles.

He exhales through his mouth, the sound nearly silent but deeply attractive, and it makes heat build inside me. That wasn't like any sigh I've heard from him before. If I wasn't mistaken, it was more of a pant.

This is as much a gentle massage as it is a bathing. And the fact that he's not complaining or making to stop me is giving me the courage to keep going.

I note that his breathing has quickened, and as I glide the cloth from his right pectoral all the way down the sensitive skin of his ribs to his hip, I notice something that makes my heart thrum and my cheeks blush even redder.

There is a very noticeable tent in this elf's pants.

I swallow, take in a steadying breath, and wipe the hot cloth back up his side, under his right arm, over his ribs. My mind is in all sorts of places right now, most of them embarrassingly filthy, and I'm just struggling to stay focused on cleaning him up. He's still bruised enough that it probably wasn't pleasant to twist the way he was having to, and I'm helping him. That's...all this is. Right?

Right! Totally!

And I'm sure the bulge down there agrees with me!

Focus, you drooling idiot.

I rinse the cloth and finish up his right arm, then clear my throat.

"Um, I'll need you to sit on the bed so I can reach your neck and stuff."

He backs up three easy steps with his giant stride and sinks down into the mattress, now at an even height with me despite sitting. I do my absolute best not to look down below his belt for his sake only, and on accident I meet his expression.

He's watching me silkily, his full lips pulling in a partial smile. Like he's calm and collected, and I'm the only one driving myself crazy here.

I return a smile that I hope he reads as, Sure, and that massive boner you're sporting is nothing.

With a fresh dip in the water, I slightly more forcefully run the rag over his shoulders and neck, getting locks of his long hair wet and causing it to stick to his skin. This just makes it look like he's kind of sweaty or dewy, and I feel myself falling further into ruin.

Good. Fucking. Lord.

I can feel my own heart rate increasing just by touching him and seeing his glistening muscles rise and fall with his breathing. I squirm, feeling heat pooling inside me, arousal flickering in my lower half.

He inhales deeply through his nose and grits his jaw, letting out a heavy breath, like he too is feeling the ridiculous tension here which I initially believed was nothing more than a one-sided flicker. I mean, I'd gotten the feeling that an elf wouldn't be that attracted to a human anyways.

When I'm finally finished with everything above his belt line, I quickly go to the wash basin and lean over it, rinsing out the cloth and letting the water drain.

Fyr's rich voice sounds from where he's still sitting on the bed, and it startles me. It's been so silent in here for nearly five minutes.

"Woman, I swear you're a demon yourself."

My lips tug into a grin, which I quickly rein in as best as I can and turn around. I direct my slight smile toward him, catching his eyes in a way that causes my cheeks to turn pink again. The shirtless giant has this unmistakable glint of hunger in his eyes that makes my heart pound in my chest. The heat in this room is unbearable. It's gone from zero to one hundred in about five minutes, with no warning. All because I innocently wanted to...wash...him.

Alright, fair enough. Bathing someone isn't an innocent act, and some part of me knew what she was doing. It was almost like a test, to see if the sexual tension I felt all this time with him was reciprocated or not.

A shockingly successful test.

"Demon?" I finally find my voice to respond to his joke, "I have no idea what you're talking about."

"Mmhm," he shakes his head, standing and heading to the washbasin and taking the rag. "Bloody succubus," he murmurs under his breath, letting his pants drop without any better warning than when his shirt did. Now just wearing briefs, he starts to clean his legs as well, turned away from me but very intentionally letting me see way too much of him.

I'm standing there with my lips parted, unable to tear my eyes away. In just this month of being here, I've become so used to his inhuman appearance - not only used to it, but unbearably attracted to every part of him. And now that I have no excuse not to like him, I'm sitting here feeling every level of attraction hit me in waves that I've been denying for so long.

He's the one, not James, who every time stuck around and endured through it all to help me. He's the one who opened up to me. He's the one who has, since the moment we met, taken me under his wing (although there was some hefty complaining there too). James had his moments, sure, but they were all moments that only happened because it was convenient for him for them to happen at all.

The only convenient thing about my presence for Fyr is the fact that his demon is gone, and he didn't even anticipate that in the first place.

I've been staring at him all this time, and he knows it. He straightens up once he's finished, adjusts his briefs (as by now he's managed to subdue the monster in his trousers), and walks across the room in front of me to get new clothes from his backpack. He reminds me of a cat when it wants to be petted, the way he flaunts himself just out of reach from me but makes it look inviting enough that I want to pet him. Manipulative devil.

He dons fresh, well-fitting pants that fit snugly into his leather boots, a leather belt, and a crisp grey shirt with sleeves that run just past his elbows. Then he sweeps his hair back and ties it in a thick tail, and I finally begin to gain some control over my motor functions.

I try to regain my voice as well, but it still crackles when I first speak, "I could use a serious drink right now...or a cold shower." That last part is grumbled.

Fyr arches a brow. "Oh, really? I'm aware of what happened last time you and a man got fully plastered, Princess."

I can't help my blush. He's referring to me and James the night we met.

He pretends to think on it for a second, and then to my surprise, he shrugs.

"First round is on me."

I can tell he's just joking, but I melt into weird giggles, pointing between us. "Fyr what the hell is going on here?"

"I believe it's called flirting," he retorts, scooping his bag over his shoulder and opening the door for me.

"...Why did we just now start?" I mumble to myself playfully as I walk out of the room and hand him the key as I do so.

He locks the door and answers me; I always forget about his hearing. "Probably because we're no longer so grumpy. No demon, remember?"

I wait for him to head down the stairs first, and follow after.

"You know, that actually makes a lot of sense," I decide to continue the conversation, "I mean, I was weirdly attracted to you from the second I saw you, but I tried not to say anything because I always felt put-off and negative. And now, I don't."

"'Weirdly' attracted?" He snorts. "Should I be offended, or..?"

"Very," I say sarcastically. "You know I've never seen an elf in my life before we met, so, lucky you."

"Noted..."

I'm surprised to find that this inn is not also a tavern; every single one I'd been in up until this one had a bar section. Fyr and I walk down the canals at a more leisurely pace than his normal one, which I appreciate. I know he's slowed for my sake.

Despite the fact that we walk in silence, it's not the same kind that I'm used to with him. Last time he was all surly; right now, I'm wrapped up in the sights of the city, and he has a pep in his step that's new to me. I'm more content in this moment, just plain walking without talking, than I've been in a month. A big part of me is still hurting and feeling the full guilt and weight of what I've done, but I'm able to carry it easier now, because I'm comfortable.

I know that I'm going to need to give more explanation to Fyr. Whatever he did get isn't all of it, and I'm sure he's very curious to hear what I've been experiencing these past weeks. Maybe I'll get the courage and energy to talk to him about all of that this evening. I mean, he did open up to me; it's only fair I do the same.

We round a corner, and I'm surprised to see a familiar face. It's rare, considering I know fewer than ten faces on this whole planet.

The mage Ferris Conley is at the end of the arch we've just turned under, and he perks when he sees us.

"Ah! There you are!" He's talking to me, not Fyr. "Where are you two going?"

"For a drink, I reckon," Fyr hums.

"Ah, well, that'll have to wait. I need Miss Warner to come with me. Aerefyr, it is recommended you come also."

I take one hesitant step to go with him, and pause.

"Why? Were are we going?"

"Dalaran City, my dear! Your actions yesterday have gained the attention of the Archmage Khadgar himself!"