Bayan and Charles waited at the Aetheryte an hour before noon, but Koharu did not appear.
The crystal was twenty feet tall, glowing blue, and mounted in a great brass base. Smaller crystals rotated around it on clockwork arms, keeping the crystal in alignment with its sisters across the world despite the swirls and eddies of the aether currents. Two mages on duty assisted people with Aetheryte travel. There was a constant stream of travelers walking up to the crystal, raising a hand to its surface, and vanishing in a flicker of light. On the other side, people appeared in the same flash and sparkle, gazed around for a second to get their bearings, then set off into the city.
"She's late," Charles observed, as a clock across the square chimed half-past.
"I don't like this," said Bayan, fingering the grip on his greatsword. "Should we pay her a visit? I would hate to leave the moment she arrives." He shifted his weight from foot to foot, aching to act, hating to move. The abyss whispered inside of him, warning him that something had gone wrong.
"Patience," Charles muttered.
They had only recently returned from meeting with Fyrgeiss. The Chief Foreman had welcomed them with open arms, hailing them as friends. His investigation of Asturmaux had revealed all sorts of back-alley deals made with Amaljaa and various thugs. It had all been a ruse to pressure Fyrgeiss into selling the crystal mine, which would weaken his standing with his investors and therefore with the Syndicate. From there, Asturmaux had planned to move against him and take his place-and his business.
Instead, Asturmaux's assets had been frozen, pending Syndicate investigation. He stood to lose all his shares in the company and much more, besides. And it was all because of Charles and Bayan refusing to be the next sacrificial lambs. Fyrgeiss had paid them generously.
Indeed, it had all worked out nicely ... except that Koharu was missing.
Suddenly Bayan glimpsed movement-the sparkle of sunlight on white fur, the flash of wings. Something he couldn't quite see floated in front of Charles. Charles gasped and backed away a step.
"What is it?" Bayan exclaimed.
Charles held up a hand. "Wait a minute. It's a Moogle. Yes, yes, pleased to meet you, Moghan."
Bayan strained his senses. The air shimmered in front of Charles, but his brain kept changing it into flashes of flying birds or buzzing insects. The Moogle was speaking, but to Bayan, it was birdsong. He had heard of Moogles, a sort of wild fairy folk, but he had never seen one. This was probably why-his eyes couldn't actually see them at all.
Charles, however, saw the Moogle plainly. He turned to Bayan, his face gone slack with horror. "Asturmaux picked up Koharu in a bridal carriage two hours ago. He took her to his mansion across town."
"What?" Bayan said, very softly.
"He paid the dowry and everything," said Charles. "Bayan … I'm sorry, but by now it may be too late."
Black, bloody rage flooded Bayan's every vein. The abyss surged forth and engulfed him. The air around him began to seethe with curls of black smoke. His armor darkened to black, and he seemed to grow extra spikes and horns, all composed of black, burning aether.
The Moogle fled to a safe distance. Charles gulped, barely standing his ground before the Dark Knight. "That way," he said, pointing.
Bayan didn't remember moving. One moment he was standing beside the Aetheryte. The next, he was twenty feet in the air, sailing like a bird over the rooftops. He landed on a house with a flat top, ran three steps, and leaped again. The abyss fueled him, carried him, blotted out all but the roar for vengeance. Koharu had better be unharmed and untouched. If Asturmaux had laid a finger on her, Bayan would cut him to pieces. Seven hells, he might cut him to pieces anyway. He landed on another rooftop, ran up the peak of a house, and leaped from the top. He didn't question this strength or how he was using it. All he knew was that he needed speed, and the abyss granted it.
By the time Bayan reached Asturmaux's mansion, he was engulfed in a black shadow of himself, fifteen feet tall, and trailing smoke like a demon. He paused for a second before the front gates. They bore the insignia of a crescent moon scored by three scratches. Yes, this was the place. Bayan vaulted the gates, ignored the guards, who cowered before him, and ran for the house.
It was a great house built of pink stone against the city wall, with pleasant green grounds and trees laid out around it. Bayan studied the house as he ran toward it. Bars on the windows, no easy entry aside from the door. But the second story balcony-ah, there were no bars on the windows there. Bayan leaped for the balcony, climbed up, advanced to a window, and smashed it with an armored fist. Then he was inside the house.
The first thing he noticed was the reek of aether. The room he entered was full of crystals in boxes, raw and uncut, fresh from the mines. As he opened the door and descended the stairs, he found more crystal everywhere. The house was strewn with the stuff, crammed into every room, piled in every corner. Why did Asturmaux need this much magic?
Bayan tilted his head and touched the wall with his horns. Voices downstairs. One was Koharu. Her tone was placating, meek, as if Asturmaux had already subdued her. The thought sent extra blackness boiling through Bayan's heart. He galloped down the stairs.
He arrived in a grand ballroom with a ceiling four stories high. A great skylight cast a square of sunlight on the black marble floor. More boxes of crystals were stacked against the walls. Near the end of the room, near the double doors to admit guests, stood Asturmaux and Koharu.
It was a tableau that Bayan would not soon forget. His beautiful, delicate girl stood gazing up at the Elezen, resolute, her mouth set in a line. Asturmaux towered over her, gripping one of her arms, speaking through clenched teeth. Koharu tried to twist out of his grasp, and Asturmaux grabbed her other arm.
As Bayan entered the ballroom, draped in a shadow of himself, Asturmaux and Koharu looked up. Asturmaux released Koharu at once, and they both fell back in horror.
"What is that?" Asturmaux exclaimed.
"Bayan?" Koharu breathed, pressing her hands to her mouth. "Oh Bayan, what have you done to yourself?"
Bayan drew his sword and carried it at his side, blackness rippling from the blade. "I've come for Koharu," he said. His voice seemed overlaid with other voices that screamed or growled the same words. "Give her up and I'll spare your life."
"You've come to kidnap my wife?" Asturmaux exclaimed. "You ruin my business, destroy my reputation, and now this?"
"I'm quite sure it's the other way around," said Koharu. "You've worked quite hard to destroy Bayan."
Asturmaux backhanded her across the mouth, knocking her into the wall. "Quiet, wench. I'll deal with you later. For now, it's time to end this conflict." He stepped toward Bayan, pulling a small, black stone from his pocket. He lifted it into the air and began to chant a prayer to Ifrit in the tongue of the Amaljaa.
All the crystals in the room-indeed, the whole house-began to glow and evaporate into aether. The glow converged on Asturmaux, filling his body with far more magic than it was ever meant to contain.
His chant broke off in a half-scream. "Ifrit! Come to me! Enact vengeance upon the enemy who stands before me!"
"No!" Bayan exclaimed. Too late he charged, swinging his blade. But Asturmaux vanished in a blaze of aether that fountained to the ceiling. Bayan fell back, moving to shield Koharu with his body.
The thing within the magic roared as it took shape, drawing upon every crystal in the mansion. Something writhed and thrashed within the light, something neither man nor monster, but half of both. Limbs stretched, fingernails extended into claws, bones cracked sickeningly. Asturmaux screamed, his voice dropping three octaves into the bellow of some inhuman thing.
As the light faded, a being in black armor stood there, carrying a white sword of bone. It resembled Ifrit in its stooped, demonic stance, its gangling limbs, and the toothy jaws. But something of Asturmaux lingered about it, too. As it turned to face them, it laughed, and it was the laugh of the Elezen.
"What have you done?" Bayan exclaimed, raising his sword to middle guard. Part of him was terrified of the primal. But the other part–the part submerged in the abyss-thrilled at the offer of battle. Here was a worthy foe! A fight to the death for the hand of his Nhaama!
"I have come at the call of my worshiper," boomed the Ifrit-Elezen. "He says that his bride loves his enemy, and this cannot be changed. Therefore he calls upon me. He begs me to temper both of you, to secure your minds and souls to my worship forever. I have answered, and I will grant his petition. Bow to me, mortals! Bow and drink of the eternal flame!"
"No!" Koharu screamed, and leaped in front of Bayan, arms upraised.
The primal flung an arm toward them. A wave of fire and aether swept over them, seeking to capture the aether within their bodies, and forever reorient it to the worship of the god.
But here a strange thing happened. Koharu, delicate girl that she was, unarmed, helpless, parted the blaze of magic as if she had held up a shield. Ifrit's power could not touch her, and as a result, it could not reach Bayan.
"What!" roared the primal, seeing this happen. "What power is this?"
"I don't know," said Koharu, her voice trembling. "But you will not make us your slaves, monster. Nor will you take anyone else in Ul'Dah."
"Then you will die!" roared the monster. He lifted his sword and brought it slashing down upon Koharu's head.
But instead, it struck Bayan's greatsword in a clash of sparks.
The Dark Knight held off the bone sword, his own abyssal aether blazing around him. "Run," he said to Koharu.
She obeyed, fleeing the ballroom. In the distance, locks rattled, and the front doors swung open. Reassured that she was safe, Bayan focused his attention on the primal. "You could not win her love, so you resort to summoning a god in order to wreck her mind? You are a foul, sickening coward." He twisted out from under the sword and charged at the monster's midsection.
It pivoted out of the way and slashed at him, the bone sword igniting with fire. "I will enjoy cutting you apart, limb by limb," the monster sneered. "You will beg for death before the end."
Bayan blocked the blow and delivered a savage slash to the monster's leg. It opened a wound that dripped molten fire. It retaliated with a slap from its free hand that sent him flying to crash into the wall. It lunged after him, sword upraised, and tried to cut him in half.
But Bayan was too deep in the abyss to allow that. He leaped from the floor, sailed over the monster's head, and landed on its back. There he landed blow after blow to its neck, alternating left and right, cutting deep into the monster's unearthly sinew with all his strength.
The monster threw itself over backward, trying to crush him beneath its weight. Bayan tried to fling himself clear, but didn't quite manage it. The ridge of the monster's spine pinned his left leg. Something snapped, and excruciating pain shot up his thigh into his hip. Bayan yelled and kicked at the monster with his other foot. He half-lay on top of his greatsword and could not bring it to bear.
The monster rolled off him and climbed to its feet, where it grinned down at him. It had an awful face, all eyes and teeth, with no nose in between. Bayan made it to one knee, but his left leg wouldn't support him. He knelt, clutching his sword, the abyss blazing around him in clouds of hate and pain.
"I ought to temper you," said the god. "But I tire of your face. Even as a worshiper, you would gall me. I've decided to simply kill you, instead."
Bayan opened his mouth to curse the man inside the primal. Instead, a new voice said, "Oh, you won't be able to do that."
The Ifrit-Asturmaux turned with a surprised huff. Before Bayan even looked up, he knew who it was. Healing magic poured over him in a flood of coolness, centering on the ghastly pain in his leg. The bone clicked, and instantly the pain was halved.
Bayan looked up to see Charles Whitmore, white mage, standing in the ballroom's doorway. His white robes were stained with sweat from running in the heat, and his damp hair clung to his forehead in untidy locks. But he gripped his healing rod and faced the monster defiantly, casting spell upon spell even as he spoke.
"You are a pathetic healer," sneered the monster. "What hope do you have of defeating me?"
"None," Charles said, casting a spell that energized Bayan's limbs and set his heart racing. "But I'll have you know that the man wrapped in shadow over there is my friend. And I'll help him send you shrieking back to the Aetheric Sea, where you belong."
Friend.
That word sent a shaft of light deep into the abyss of darkness, where Bayan was drowning in hate and fear. Charles was his friend. For that matter, so was Koharu. Friends.
Bayan rose to his feet, ignoring the fading pain in his leg. He paid no attention to the stiffness that lingered in his shoulder. Around him and within him, the abyss was changing. Rather than reaching out through fear and pain, Bayan drew upon it as a desire to protect.
Charles and Koharu are my friends. They will die if I don't intervene.
He lifted his greatsword and it seemed feather-light in his hands. "Hey!" he shouted at the monster. "I'm talking to you, fiend!"
It swung around to snarl at him. It drew a deep breath and opened its mouth to breathe fire on him, but Bayan dashed straight under its legs and emerged behind it, where he hamstrung it in a single swift chop. The primal howled and whirled around, favoring its wounded leg, and rampaged toward him.
Bayan reached into the abyss and drew on its defenses just as the monster bodyslammed him to the floor. It saved his bones from instantly breaking, but it didn't keep the breath from being driven from his lungs. Gasping, he tried to raise his sword, but the monster flung it aside. Then they were grappling, the monster trying to grab him and bite him, Bayan holding its arms off with all his abyssal strength. Time and again, Charles's healing magic flowed into him, helping his lungs work, mending the bruises and gashes as quickly as they appeared.
The wrestling match culminated in the monster lifting Bayan into the air and hurling him against the wall. Bayan struck it with such force that the wall collapsed
He fell through into the next room amid showers of plaster. The monster laughed. Bayan lay stunned for a second, his vision gone dark at the edges. He started to rise, only to have the monster grab him by one leg and drag him back into the ballroom.
"Now I know how to kill you," said the monster, lifting him into the air again. It slammed him into the marble floor as if smacking a fish on a rock to kill it. Bayan's armor dented and cracked. He struggled, but his sword was across the room. The monster lifted him and smashed him to the floor a second time. Bayan cried out as things broke inside him. A third time he was lifted and smashed down, and something in his head broke with a hideous crack. Lightning exploded through his brain, then darkness consumed all.
The primal released the limp Au Ra and watched as the swirling shadow disappeared from his body. It roared in triumph and turned its attention to the pesky healer who had kept the warrior alive for so long.
But where had he gone? The monster stared around the room. The taste of the healer's aether remained, but the man himself had vanished.
"Hey, ugly, over here!"
The monster turned. Had something moved on the other side of the ballroom? It bounded across the room in two long strides, but there was nothing there.
Suddenly a voice said, "Let us speak with you, Asturmaux, if any of you remains."
The Auri girl had appeared out of nowhere, standing straight and tall near the doorway. The monster grinned at her. The fractional part of the man left within it recognized her as the woman he had stolen as a prize. "Come back, have you? Your warrior is dead. You belong to me, now."
"I think not," said Koharu. "You cannot touch me."
"You have no magic, no weapons," said the monster, advancing on her a step at a time. "You are abandoned by all others. I may not be able to temper you, but I can snuff out your life as easily as I did the other's."
She looked at the crushed warrior on the floor, and for a second, her face softened, her lower lip trembling. Then she regained control and glared up at the monster. "Come and take me, you horror of the astral plane."
The monster charged at her, jaws open to catch her up and chew her to bits. But it struck something before it could reach her. Some sharp, unseen thing pricked its chest, the monster's own impetus driving it between its ribs and into its vitals. The monster slipped on the smooth floor, clawing at the obstruction. Then it fell, its weight driving the sharp thing through its own torso and out its back.
Ifrit and Asturmaux shrieked loud enough to shatter glass. The sword! It had tripped on the warrior's sword! But how?
As it slumped to the floor, it beheld the healer, driven backward and crushed against the wall. The healer, under a Don't-Notice spell, had held the sword while the girl baited the primal onto it.
"Well played," the monster gasped. Then it died, and its body dissolved back into the sparkling aether of which it was made. As the primal vanished, all that remained was Asturmaux, lying dead on the floor, impaled on a greatsword.
As soon as the monster was dead, Koharu dashed to Bayan and knelt over him. She checked his heartbeat and found it still there, but his breathing was rough and irregular. She rolled him over amid a trail of blood. One of his horns had snapped off at the base, and it was bleeding profusely.
Charles followed her, limping and holding his stomach. The primal's attack had driven the greatsword's pommel into his midsection, and he was badly bruised. He slumped to the floor beside his friend and conjured more Cure spells.
"I don't know how he's still alive," Charles said through his teeth. "The primal just about beat his brains out."
"It was his abyss powers," said Koharu, ripping a strip of cloth off the hem of her dress. She bound it tightly around the stump of bleeding horn. "Bayan is tougher than I ever believed. When will he awaken?"
"I don't know," Charles replied. "With the kind of head trauma he's taken, it might be days, or weeks." He laughed a little. "My turn to pay his bills while he recovers."
"Your turn?" Koharu said, looking up.
"He paid mine while I was recovering from funguar poisoning," Charles replied. "Turn and turn about." He conjured more magic, siphoning it into his friend's broken body. "I'm sorry," he murmured to the lifeless face. "I should have healed you better. I warded you against damage and the primal threw you through a wall."
"He really is a kind man, isn't he?" Koharu said softly, stroking Bayan's wild hair.
Charles nodded. "When we first met, I thought he was brusque and unkind. But that's just this shell he wears to keep people out. Underneath, he's kind and caring. He just … doesn't understand how to let the kind part out of the shell."
"I'll help him," Koharu murmured. "By Azim and Nhaama, I'll help him become the man he should be."
"By the way," Charles said, looking up. "How are you two not tempered? By the time I arrived, the primal had given up trying."
"I'm immune," Koharu murmured. "How, I don't know."
Then the city guards arrived, and in the following ruckus, there was no further time for talk.
The mansion's guards and house staff had been tempered by the primal's initial blast of magic. They were rounded up and isolated, but it was well-known that anyone tempered by Ifrit would remain undead until their body rotted away. But because the summoning had been so unusual, there was hope that perhaps some magic could be found that might restore them.
Bayan was borne away to Fyrgeiss's own home, where he was attended by Ul'Dah's top physicians. Fyrgeiss was hugely grateful for the warrior's efforts to end the primal, and for uncovering Asturmaux's plot. He made sure that Charles and Koharu were given medical attention, as well.
Koharu sat by Bayan's side for the six days it took him to regain consciousness. Day after day, she sat at his bedside, holding his rough hand, gazing at the ash-white face with its black scales on the jaw, at the long lashes that framed his eyes and gave them their wild look. In sleep, his appearance softened, the vigilance relaxing. He looked young and vulnerable, the soft heart showing through the hardened shell. Koharu loved him more and more, marred as he was by the broken horn.
Charles joined her once or twice a day, mostly to sit beside Bayan and trickle healing spells into his temples. His own bruises had been healed, and he was back to his cheerful self, if not for worrying about his friend. Sometimes Zana the Miqo'te came with him. She gazed sorrowfully at Bayan and patted Koharu on the shoulder.
Koharu was there alone the evening of the sixth day, when Bayan groaned and opened his blue eyes. He blinked at the ceiling for a moment, then turned his head and saw her. He smiled slowly. "My Nhaama."
"My Azim," she whispered, clasping his hand.
His other hand lifted to his head and discovered the missing horn. His fingers found the bandaged stump, and he looked at Koharu in horror. "What happened?"
She related the outcome of the battle, stroking his hair all the while. "You have been asleep for six days, nearly seven. They said it might be months."
"And Charles?" Bayan said. "Gods! Was he tempered?"
"No," said Koharu. "I kept him hidden under a spell and made sure the primal looked only at me."
"Thank Azim," Bayan murmured, closing his eyes. "How … how did you protect me from the primal's power? You parted the magic like water."
"I don't know," Koharu replied. "Perhaps it's linked to my power of foresight? I don't understand."
Bayan was silent for a moment, resting. Then he looked up at her, and lifted a hand to cup her cheek. "Whatever it is, it makes my Nhaama even more perfect." He smiled. "I had not expected to fight a god to win your hand. Are you unharmed? Asturmaux had not …?"
"He had not touched me, no," Koharu replied. "I kept a Don't-Notice spell on myself for as long as I could. When you arrived, he was … pressuring me to consummate the marriage. I don't know how much longer I could have refused him."
"I'm glad I arrived when I did," Bayan murmured, stroking the snowflake scales on her cheek with his thumb. "No one consummates a marriage with my Nhaama but me."
Koharu giggled and kissed his forehead. "Are we married, then?"
"As soon as I am well enough to file the registration," said Bayan. "Assuming Asturmaux filed one at all. If he did, you are a widow, now."
"I saw no such paperwork," said Koharu, "but he may have filed it before he bought me. He seemed to be the meticulous planning type."
They sat quietly for a while, holding hands and gazing at each other, smiling. Koharu relished the opportunity to simply gaze into his eyes, to study every detail of the scales on his cheeks and neck, to admire the curves of his remaining horn.
Bayan reached up to touch the bandaged stump once more. "This feels exceedingly strange. Sounds are so blurry now. I wonder if I could even stand." He gave her a mournful look. "It takes months or years to regrow a horn. I will not be able to swing a sword until it is healed once more. My sweet Nhaama, how can I marry you if I have no means of support? I could not bear to see you starve."
"You are trained as a culinarian, yes?" said Koharu. "Could you perhaps find work that way?"
He nodded slowly. "Perhaps. I have studied food from across Eorzea in my travels. If I could but find someone willing to take a chance on hiring a crippled Au Ra, that is." His voice dropped to a murmur as he touched his broken horn. "Crippled and disfigured."
"Hush," said Koharu. "Your horn was broken while saving the city from a primal. Wear it as the badge of a hero."
He looked at her, startled. Then he smiled, and his walls came down a little. "Dark Knights are rarely acknowledged as heroes."
"You cannot pick up a blade for some time," said Koharu. "Give the Dark Knight a rest. Become the culinarian of refined taste, who will teach his bride the ways of herbs and spices."
He reached out and ran his fingers through her golden hair, tucking it behind her white horns. "You are an angel, my Koharu."
"You are the sun and I am your moon," Koharu said softly. "I watched you in my visions and I longed to love you, despite the fear that Mother fed me. And now–"
"And now," he said, "I hope you love me. Because I love you, Koharu, with the hopeless passion of a man's heart. I only had one vision of you, but it was enough to set me on my quest."
"What was your vision?" she asked.
Bayan's eyes took on a faraway look, seeking a treasured memory. "I stood on the plains, and it was night. But I knew I was not alone. Someone I could not see was nearby. So I waited for the moon to rise and give me its light. Presently, it climbed above the horizon, and its rays fell upon a beautiful Auri girl. She sat upon a stone, gazing at me with amber eyes, her golden hair trailing in the breeze. But her horns and scales were white. Not black, like the Xaela tribes of the Steppe. I knew then that I must search for her. As I thought this, she smiled and whispered, "Seek me out, my Azim." I knew then that I would travel the world to find my Nhaama, and I would spend my life in her service."
Koharu caught her breath and clasped his hand to her breast. Then she bent down and kissed him. "You are mine," she whispered. "And I am yours."
His other hand came up and cradled the back of her head. "While my heart beats and I draw breath," he murmured against her lips.
A little later, Koharu emerged from Fyrgeiss's mansion to find Charles leaning against the wall outside, pouring a glimmer of magic from hand to hand. He straightened as he saw her. "Oh! There you are. How is Bayan?"
"Awake," Koharu said. "At last."
"Good!" Charles exclaimed. "Good, good. How is he? Speaking clearly?"
"Yes, he is weak, but his faculties are sound," said Koharu. "He suffers disorientation from the broken horn. It will be many months before he is fit to lift a sword."
Charles sucked in his breath through his teeth. "I was afraid of that. It will have to regrow on its own. What will you two do?"
"He plans to work as a culinarian," said Koharu with a smile. "It will bring at least as much income as fortune telling."
"Ah, good," said Charles. "Tell you what, I'll ask around and see who would be willing to hire a new cook. Unless you were planning to move on from Ul'Dah?"
"I don't know, yet," said Koharu. Her face fell. "The City is an expensive place to live. And I …" She trailed off and shook her head a little. "We will have to talk about it."
"Well. When you do, consider La Noscea," said Charles. "My family lives there, and it's a cheaper place to live. Culinarians can work anywhere, too."
Koharu smiled. "Thank you, Charles. You bring hope to my heart."
He grinned and bowed. "You're welcome, my lady. Allow me to escort you to wherever you're going."
"The Quicksand Inn," said Koharu. "I have nowhere else to go."
Charles stood gazing at her a moment in sober thought, his eyes shadowed. "I suppose you don't. Your mother wouldn't …?"
"After she sold me to Asturmaux?" said Koharu, eyes widening.
"Right, I guess not," said Charles. "Come along, I'll look after you."
Bayan was up and hobbling around a day later, using a cane that Fyrgeiss had lended him. He tended to pitch to the right while walking, and sounds smote his unprotected eardrum with unchecked cruelty. He had to keep his stump wrapped and his ear canal packed with wool.
When he explained to Fyrgeiss his difficulty in working while facing a long recovery time, the Roegadyn beamed. "A culinarian, you say? Why then, you shall work for me. I maintain private kitchen staff for my personal meals and banquets. I'll have my chef take you on as an apprentice. As for housing, I'll have a word with one of my colleagues. Fear not, my brave friend. You saved my Syndicate seat and my whole Mining Concern. You will not be turned out on the streets while I am breathing."
This was a huge weight off Bayan's mind, and a great relief to Koharu. Within a week, Fyrgeiss saw them installed in a pleasant little house near his mansion, where Bayan could walk to work every day. Koharu found a job as a seamstress nearby, and the two of them settled down happily.
Charles returned to Gridania and his White Mage studies, but Bayan did not release him from his contract.
"This stint as a culinarian is temporary," said Bayan. "Once my horn is regrown, I intend to resume mercenary work. And a Dark Knight needs his healer."
"Send word once you need me," said Charles. "I'm going to continue learning white magic."
"And Zana?" said Bayan.
Charles blushed. "Nice weather we're having."
Bayan nodded knowingly. "By the time we take to the road again, you'd better have married her."
"Oh, I," Charles coughed. "Yes, uh, maybe by then." He excused himself and quickly left the room, his ears bright red.
"He's sweet on her, is he?" Koharu asked.
Bayan nodded. "Zana told me that she intended to marry him soon after they met. I'm not certain she has told Charles that, however."
Koharu laughed and draped her arm across his shoulders. "Not everyone has it as easy as we do."
The end