The ghost of a centipede crawled up Bael's spine, causing a chill that cascaded across his skin and permeated deep into his bones. He trailed behind Lance who led them towards the surface, albeit at Bael's infrequent dictation. His prior jovial demeanor had long since sloughed off so that all that remained was a tempestuous scowl.

That ecstatic high he had been riding from Lance's admiration and companionship had shattered in the blink of an eye. Bael was no stronger now than he was before. How could he have fooled himself into believing something so naive? Lance's happiness -a hard-earned achievement- was infectious. He truly wanted to believe that all it took was someone standing behind you to become invincible.

Right behind his ear he could still hear the sound of insect legs clicking as they trekked across his skin. It was the identical sensation to when both Aka and Ao snaked into his very soul. There was no opportunity to fight it or even acknowledge what was happening to him. One moment he had been staring down the Don and the next he was sputtering in a mangled heap on the cavern floor.

When the Gods of Rot perverted his soul few things remained of his self awareness that he could recall, and the same went for evidence of their possession. A ravenous desire that caused him to salivate in response to every living thing was the most prevalent remnant of their presence. He avoided looking at Lance for many reasons, but this one nearly caused him to flee out of the underground to a place far far away.

A part of him that wasn't quite human -and not quite alive- hungered. It would fade as he distanced himself from the source of it, but it was a painful ideation to consider.

He could hurt Lance. Terribly and horribly, all over again. Sickness built in the pit of his stomach as he remembered the taste of Lance's skin when he playfully kissed him under the ruse of playing pretend.

How would he have tasted if I bit down? Severed the lips from his face and quenched my thirst on rivers of crimson? It would be trivial to pin him down and force his ribs open. I would have his heart in the end.

The intrusive thoughts came and went, but their impressions upon his mind lingered. Seared into flesh. They intertwined and overlapped with other scars, indistinguishable from the rest and equally agonizing.

"Aren't you going to tell me anything about what happened back there?" asked Lance, ending their prolonged silence.

Of course he wanted to know. Of course he would, why wouldn't he? Bael had been all smiles and reassurance when he 'returned', so to speak, yet quickly gave Lance the cold shoulder. Nyx had been there at the time, instilling as much of her magic into him as she possibly could. She was always keeping the darkness within him at bay, and at that moment through her strength he was able to feel okay -to believe he was okay.

Not now, not after her light abated shortly after and the shadows flooded his body. The creeping insects skittered in the corners of his vision, and the rancid smell of decay made his eyes water. Whenever his eyes alighted on Lance he forced himself to look away, as the smell alone already was unbearable.

"Must I?" Bael answered the question with his own, both playful and exasperated.

There wasn't much to explain. Ao saw him as an easily accessible tool and used him just as that. There were no words exchanged as Bael's consciousness dissolved away into mush as the ancient god usurped him. Yet at the time his soul, or what he was calling his soul in this case, understood the creature's intent. It would not harm him more than it needed to, and Lance would not be touched. That was all Bael wanted. Even if in the end it put him through this wretched feeling.

A feeling he quickly realized was not foreign to him.

There was something uncomfortably familiar about his body being invaded by something beyond his comprehension. It felt as if there was a void in a deep, dark cavity of his being. Just the right size for a primordial entity to nestle in and call his living corpse home.

"Must isn't the right word," Lance returned, his demeanor dropping to something more diminutive. Submissive, perhaps. Frightened by the power his words might hold. "But I think you should. If you hold things in then you're just relapsing into your old ways. We're lifting each other up to be better people now, remember?"

I could only sully a pure spirit such as you. Yet I would love nothing more than to drag you down into the mire with me.

"There's nothing about me that could make you a better person, yet only you could find something redeemable in this defiled bag of bones."

Lance drew nearer to him. He could tell not by sight or sound, but by his heightened sense of smell. The scent of his sweat filled his nostrils causing Bael to bite back a gag. It was the smell of a frightened animal. His hunger grew.

"Are you sick? We can stop for a rest if you want," said Lance.

"I'll feel better when I'm out of the underground. Some fresh air will do me good."

"You would tell me if something was wrong, wouldn't you?" "Well, yeah. Of course I would," Bael answered while grimacing.

"I don't believe you." As Lance said this he gripped Bael by the elbow and tugged.

Bael jerked out of his grasp and hastened his pace to escape the scrutiny. It's all far beyond just wrong. I can't be alone with him right now. He wished with all his being that Nyx would conveniently interrupt the line of conversation with something -anything- to draw attention away from himself.

But she didn't and she probably wasn't going to. The poor thing was terribly exhausted just from exerting herself on a daily basis by being his companion and combating his inner darkness. She had drifted out of sight, leaving the two of them in sparse lighting.

Lance shouted, stumbling as his gait lengthened to catch up to Bael. By now Bael was already running, since now he could see the light at the end of the tunnel. Then they could bury this misunderstanding with pertinent matters and never speak of it again.

Bael soon learned that running through a dark tunnel was not his finest decision, as his footing found one large rock placed in his path. Possibly the single obstacle he needed to avoid, given how kind his luck was to him.

With his arms wrapped around his stomach due to the discomfort, the tumble to the stone floor was less than favorable. His face turned to the side to allow his cheek to turn the brunt of the damage. Blood soon began to seep from the wound, a smell that surprised him to be excited by as well.

Perhaps it wasn't Lance alone he wanted to devour and any flesh would do, including his own. This brought more comfort than it had any right to. Just as he began to toy with the notion of tasting it, Lance tripped over Bael's legs and came crashing down as well.

He must have shifted mid-fall, as instead of Bael bearing the full weight Lance landed on his side beside Bael. His sleeve appeared torn by the stone, but otherwise no severe damage could be detected at a glance.

"Are you okay-" Bael began to ask before biting back his words with a gasp. Lance was staring him down, brows deeply knitted as he was lifting himself up off the floor. Before Bael could attempt to wriggle away, Lance had crawled over him to hold him down by his wrists. He was angry and it was all Bael's fault. If he were a gambling man, he'd wager Lance was angrier now than he'd ever seen him.

Bael was strong, impossibly so, but with this encroaching fear his limbs turned into jelly. He couldn't buck Lance off if his life depended on it. All he could do was whimper.

"Haven't I done enough yet to prove to you I'm not like all the other people that have hurt you?" Lance yelled, spittle flying as his eyes widened.

"It's not that-"

"I don't care what it is. We can't keep doing this. I can't keep chasing and pushing you for honesty while you evade me at every turn. It's not fair to me. You promised me you would be honest with me going forward." Lance's eyes were panic-stricken, just like when he'd awoken on the cavern floor.

The pulse in his neck throbbed, blood rushing full of adrenaline. Bael's mouth parted as his breathing became shallow. He lunged, throwing Lance on his back to hover over him. His jaw flexed as saliva dripped down onto Lance's chest. Lance yelped as his hands pushed against Bael's upper body, his face twisted with confusion.

This was the only fate he could bring to those who chose to let him be in their lives. He couldn't even pretend to be a normal human for an entire day. Being a monster was the only thing he knew how to do.

Bael mouthed the words "I'm sorry" but his tongue betrayed him. He was sorry for many things; for hurting him all over again, for dragging him out of his shell into a world full of danger, and most of all for not being able to be better.

His mouth filled with the warm taste of iron and his vision became dark. Lance's voice echoed in his ears as his mind faded away.

Bael awoke staring at shadows dancing on the ceiling. He attempted to lift his head to further study his surroundings but a sharp pain on the back of his head rooted him in place. The room was sterile white with a pungent odor of antiseptic.

Then he remembered what happened right before he blacked out. Bael shot up in spite of the pain. "Lance? Where are you?" he shouted, head swinging side to side as his eyes watered.

"He's gone," spoke a deep voice from within the room.

It was the Don sitting on a chair against the wall. His hands were crossed over his cane as he leaned forward, staring with an alarming intent.

"Gone? What do you mean gone?" Bael snarled.

The Don waved a dismissive hand. "He told me all about your little game at saving the world. Something the fairies bid you to investigate on their behalf. The little fairy in your company made it rather convincing, but I can't say I quite buy it." The Don shook his head with an empty laugh. "Don't reckon it matters much anymore. What he's saying will happen is undeniable and I've seen the lengths that boy is willing to go through to stop it."

Bael continued to watch him with an infuriated look, taking no pleasure in any agreements until he had his answers.

"He said he needed to speak with the Ikanian Great Fairy about what we can do to protect the citizens. I sent Torian and Obari with him."

He squinted at the mention of those names. "They're rough around the edges, but if I say jump they'll ask me how high. Relax. I only stayed behind because I wanted to talk with you."

Bael laid back down on what he realized was an ice pack for his head. "What happened after we left Ao's cavern?"

The Don audibly shuffled while tapping his cane on the floor. "That's what I'd like to know myself."

"I- I didn't hurt him, did I?" Bael asked with a wavering voice.

"Maybe a bruise or two, but otherwise he didn't look any worse for the wear considering what happened in the last few hours." He closed his eyes and released a sigh through his teeth, thanking the Goddesses under his breath. There was more he wanted to know about Lance's wellbeing, but Bael couldn't bear to have his fears confirmed. "So what did you want to talk about?"

"I heard the commotion at the mouth of the catacombs. We came back to see what in the world was happening only to find you moments away from tearing that boy limb from limb. I knocked you in the head to try and set you straight but you collapsed immediately. When I saw the blood in your mouth I'd assumed the worst, but turns out the impact made you bite your tongue. My apologies for the injuries, by the way," the Don finished half-heartedly.

"So what? Do you have me here to observe me? To make sure I don't go rabid and start ripping people apart?" Bael asked venomously.

"That's what my people think I'm doing. I have something else in mind, however."

Bael responded with silence.

"When you first displayed your power in front of us I was incredibly alarmed that a human of all things could possess such an innate power. Then as I continued to observe you I could tell you were only partially in control of it, in much the same way a baby serpent is more dangerous because of their venom they cannot control." The chair the Don sat in squeaked as he leaned forward. His hand lifted to cover his mouth as his voice lowered. "I realized that the most obvious solution is the most likely one. You are not human, or at least not entirely, and your strength is borrowed."

"You certainly are perceptive for a moblin."

"There's a reason I'm the one pulling all the strings in this city. I won't let you change the subject. What or who is the source of your power, boy?"

Bael contemplated the request. He looked over at the moblin with eyes squinted in scrutiny. Beady yellow eyes that contained a lifetime of horrific tales and sorrows stared back at him. The Don's face was covered with a myriad of scars and wrinkles, each undoubtedly telling a story of someone who lived an unforgiving life.

Whether it was by fear or understanding he wasn't certain, but Bael decided to confess regardless. "Once upon a time I was wholly human, then as a child my family lost their way in the Woods of Mystery. They were fully consumed by its curse, but I was permitted to exist in a liminal state. No longer human but not quite a monster yet." Bael held his gloved hand aloft, turning it from side to side. "It's from that curse I believe my powers are derived."

The Don pursed his lips while twiddling his thumbs together on his cane. "By all of that you mean to say you have partially become one of the stalfos?" He nodded quietly. Bael's somber response quickly turned into one of irritation as the Don began to chuckle in response to his answer.

"Those creatures of bone and anger are not capable of such an immense, dark presence like you displayed prior. If you think being like those beasts of the night then you truly don't possess any understanding of it." HIs hackles rose, but remembering that Lance's safety lied with him he settled his mind down once again. "What would you know about anything, moblin?"

"Speak to me like that again boy and I will have your tongue," the Don retorted with his teeth bared in an empty smile. "As for your question, well let's just say I have more experience than you. I'm one of the monsters of this world, and not a day goes by that I'm not reminded of this fact. It's not like being a human who is a creature blessed by all the benevolent creatures of the land; the Giants, the fairies, you name it. We're all on our own. If we're lucky."

"Doesn't feel so lucky to me." Bael rolled over in the bed to face away from the Don, curling his knees upwards to hug them closer. The magnitude of loneliness was bearing its full weight.

"Your alternative is to become the thrall of something more powerful than yourself. No one truly knows who created the monsters of the realm, but most would say it was by the magicks of a dark master. Our inhuman nature leaves us susceptible to their influence. We are that much more powerful when loyal to those who give us strength."

"If that's the case, why me? Why hasn't Ao affected you?"

The Don was quiet, mumbling under his breath. He tapped his cane on the hard floor. "That's what I'm not certain of. My best wager is that since it is a God of the dead, then it favors the undead. Despite how I look I'm still very much alive."

"The things I can do have been with me for as long as I can remember, not just since I've been within Ikana. Twinmold might have power over me, but they're not the source of my strength."

"At this point I have enough to know you're not a threat to my kin, so don't take this as me trying to pry secrets from you to use for my own gain. Whatever gives you your powers is meaningless to me. I need to know how much you understand your own gifts."

"Why? How does that benefit you in any way?" Bael bit back in response.

"There's a darkness within me too, just like all the others of my kind. When our livelihoods are threatened our minds begin to regress back to our baser instincts. I've slipped many times in my life and watched those around me fall completely. You seem out of control of yourself when your emotions get the better of you, which is something I know all too well. I would like to help you re-direct that energy to better protect yourself. To better protect him."

For having just been immensely apprehensive of the head of the Valerio family, Bael was finding it difficult to remain resistant to the moblin's words. There was a chance someone could teach him to protect himself mentally, albeit not just from himself but maybe from outside sources as well. Was this the answer to his wishes?

Yet he couldn't help himself but still proceed warily. If something sounded too good to be true, more often than not it was. "Why are you helping me?"

"Monstrous families pass their knowledge from parent to child, that is how it's always been. Since you were born human I can surmise you've never had anyone teach you how to adapt to your new self. Not even including the powerful dark arts you have, which adds its own complications to the mix." The Don fell quiet once more as the sounds of hushed voices came in through the closed door to this room. The noise persisted but the door remained closed. "We'll be having visitors soon so we can continue this discussion later. To answer your question though, I see a lonely soul going through something similar to myself growing up. That's all."

Bael was unable to respond, because just as the Don said there was someone knocking on the door and announcing their presence. The voice was instantly recognizable as Dr. Thorne. Her ice cold demeanor earlier when she had sliced Lance into pieces was unmistakable. However, at this moment she sounded neutral and empty. Exactly how a professional should, or so he understood.

"Good afternoon Mr. Valerio," she greeted.

"How ya holdin' up, Shelly?"

As Dr. Thorne and the Don exchanged their rote greetings, Bael felt a minuscule warmth wriggle against his neck. It drew near to his ear and he heaved a deep sigh. The presence of someone familiar was never more appreciated.

"I never thought that moblin would shut up. How are you holding up, B?" Nyx whispered into his ear.

"I feel like death," he answered with a wry smile. "I was hoping you would have gone with Lance, but it appears he's all alone with people that hate him instead."

"That was my first inclination, however," she began, tapping her minute fingers against the rim of his ear, "everytime I tried to leave your side you kept reverting into something uncontrollable again. I'm here for your sake."

His body stiffened, and in response to this Nyx only laughed. It was irritating, because he knew exactly what she was thinking.

"Relax. Lance is a big boy, and frankly is handling everything a lot better than you've been as of late. Far be it from me to be the one vouching to trust a human but he's a tough kid. When it matters."

Bael rolled his eyes and returned to watching the room's other occupants. She appeared to be kneeling down on the ground as she was attaching some kind of apparatus to the stump of one of his legs. The moblin was grimacing, knuckles turning white as he gripped the chair. Rachel's face remained level as she secured the device in place with various tools.

"When they brought you here, Lance couldn't stop asking if you were okay. He's not going to turn on you over this," Nyx continued behind his head just out of sight.

"You don't know that. And I don't blame him if he did."

Rachel stood up off the floor and admired her handiwork as the Don bit his hand to stifle a noise. "Now, Mr. Valerio, that should do for the replacement prosthetic. Hopefully this time it will last longer than a few months. Do you know how difficult it is to find someone discreet to construct one for moblins?"

The Don laughed abruptly before clenching his teeth with a hiss. "Sorry to always be a difficult patient. You always take care of me and mine, so I depend on you more than I should."

Her demeanor softened. All the times before Bael had seen her she stood perfectly straight with eyes and lips narrowed. It would soften at glances towards Aryn, but it was fleeting before she snapped back to giving the world the cold shoulder. Watching her here, however, was completely different. Rachel was more relaxed speaking to this moblin than she could muster being around Lance for ten seconds. It was peculiar to him.

"You've always been more than kind to my brother and I. It's impossible to ever repay our debt to you. The very least I can do is treat you like any other patient of mine." She rested her hand on the Don's shoulder as he stood up on his new leg.

Blood began to seep from his lips but he hurriedly wiped it away. "Where else in Termina am I going to find a physician and veterinarian? Only a combination of those schools of medicine could hope to begin understanding my ills and aches, little Shelly."

Rachel half-smiled as she let him steady himself against her. She lowered her head to whisper in his ear, but Bael's keen hearing was still able to detect it. "Is Lanc- is the Wisteria boy going to be alright? What are you all doing with him?"

The Don shouted, smacking his cane down onto the ground as he hobbled away to the center of the room. "I've thought about that kid all I can stomach for today, Shelly. He was never going to be killed, 'specially not with that bloodthirsty daddy of his." The Don paused as he rubbed his hip, dropping the scowl into a softer expression. "Since when have you started to care about prissy little boys too big for their britches?"

"Prissy little boys, while obnoxious, can be well meaning. That one tries to do more good than others would. I'd like him to go home in one piece."

"Bah," the Don answered with a shake of his head. "He'll be back home in time for supper with nary a hair missing from his delicate little head. Now, if you'll leave us be, I need to talk with this one." The Don stared down pointedly at Bael, who was meeting his eyes with an apprehensive glare.

Without another word the door closed behind her. The Don tapped his fingers on the bed Bael laid on. "Now that I've got myself two legs, walk with me for a while."

Lacking a genuine choice in the matter, he granted the Don's request and followed him into the secluded back alleys in a neatly hidden away portion of the city. The moblin cloaked himself prior to departing, which scarcely obscured his monstrousness when observed directly but served its purpose in the bustling city. As he walked, the prosthetic leg emitted an unsettling hiss and whirring sound. They travelled in silence, and though Bael brimmed with questions and second thoughts he did breathe a word of either.

The Don finally stopped just past where the cobblestone ended and overgrown forest began. It was an entirely secluded location that none of the citizens could see, but by that notion Bael had no inkling where he was as well.

There were a couple of stumps, cleanly cut and smoothed with time and care. An ashen pit lay between them, which the Don stepped over to sit on a distant stump with a relieved sigh.

"Take a seat and let's talk for a little while," the Don said with a wave of his hand to the opposite seat.

Bael obliged. "What's with all the secrecy?"

The Don removed his cloak, folding it neatly before placing it on his lap. "After a while ya get tired of the noises, the crowds, and pretending to be something you're not. This is just my little sanctuary when I can steal a little time to myself. Listen to the sounds of nature, smell the scent of the pine trees, just exist in this world that tries to tear me down. Besides, it's easier to explain when I'm at ease myself."

Bael could empathize with that sentiment more than most. This small pocket of wilderness couldn't dream of comparing to the woods he called home. Still, it was nice. After the innumerable phantom weeks he has experienced it was nice to sit in a familiar space. It could only be improved by the removal of certain extenuating circumstances.

"I first lost control of myself when my mate and children were killed some years ago," the Don stated, eyes facing off into the distance with a solemn expression.

Bael jolted, but quickly stilled as he listened with intent.

"You're much younger than I am now, so it's expected for a youngster to be out of control of emotions. As for me, I was an elder of my community with grandchildren. I was a pillar of my people and had a resolve they could look up to. But when I saw them on the ground, carved for trophies and robbed of their dignity I could not bear it. I went mad, and the rest became a blur. I killed the ones who did it and then some, and even my own kin could not escape my rage. They should have killed me when they stopped me, but they didn't. Do you know what they told me when I begged them to kill me?"

The Don's real eye locked with Bael as his lip quivered. Bael feverishly shook his head.

"That I didn't deserve to die, not only for what I had done but for what I could go on to do. That I would disgrace my family in the afterlife to meet them there without atoning. I didn't want to hear it at first, but those words have stayed with me all these years. It was the beginning of Ikana becoming a puppet state controlled by me. Everything I do is to help my people."

"How is this sob story supposed to help me?" Bael asked, brows furrowed.

"Not an empathetic thought to spare, hm?" the Don answered with a dry laugh. "You're much too single-minded for that. Surely you can understand that years of seeing more abuse be directed to all of the races of this land would be enough to send me spiraling once again."

"But you haven't, because of some special secret, yes?"

"I've come close to letting the lurking shadows into my heart again. Letting them dictate my actions and allowing me to go out in a blaze of bloody glory. But every time I find myself peering off the edge into the abyss, there's something that pulls me back." The Don took a deep breath, appearing overexerted as he talked at length.

"Well? If this is a waste of my time and you're doing something awful to Lance, so help me-"

"I think of my grandchildren, with their bright smiles and youthful fervor for life. My subordinates, who honor and respect me despite our sheer differences. Of the kind humans that don't look at me and see a monster. These things are always at the forefront of my mind. If I lost myself, who would continue to watch out for them?" he asked, fingers twisting into his cloak. "Think about that, Bael, when whatever dark master that is pulling your strings tries to tempt you to your baser instincts. About the people you hold dear and would be worse off without you. Remember the ones who love you. Humans are protected by the love the Giants have for them, and monsters do the same with the love others have for us."

Bael shook his head, rolling back and forth on his feet as he debated jumping up and storming away. "Humans talk nonstop about love, and now I'm told monsters are obsessed with the concept as well? You all speak of it like it's as simple as breathing but it's not. I've heard people say it then do reprehensible things to the people they supposedly love. Then there are those that never say it and have a bond stronger than others can comprehend. It's not something anyone has ever been able to explain, and not something I know how to feel."

The Don's lips pursed into what appeared to be a frown. "You poor child. It would seem you've been thrown into this life and forced to figure everything out on your own. Well, if love is too abstract then let me put it in simpler terms. Is there anyone in this world that the mere thought of them being harmed makes your blood boil?"

Bael shuffled uneasily. "Yes. A few."

"That if you were without them for a long time you would feel an immeasurable depth of sadness?"

"...yes."

"Those that if you could you would spend every moment with them for the rest of your lives, despite the arguments, the misunderstandings, and the regrets. So much so that you would repeat every mistake of your life if it meant meeting those people in every lifetime?"

Bael coughed, having held his breath through the entirety of the Don's third description. His palms felt clammy and his chest tight. As he visualized different people, there were a few that pained him to imagine without having in his life. One in particular that felt like his heart being pulled out of his chest. "I- I think I know that feeling."

The Don smiled. "Well if it ain't called love, then I don't know what you'd call it. Those feelings are what love's all about. It's often pretty messy, and some folks will lie about it to get their way. When you see it in its purest form it's truly inspiring. That's the feeling you need to hold onto to keep you grounded. Remember those people that make you feel that way. They're the ones waiting on you when you lose yourself."

"Is that how you've avoided Ao's influence when it's so close?"

"Ao, Aka, dark wizards, pesky imps, you name it. The love I have for my family and the love they give me can't begin to compare. Though, I can't right say they look at an old moblin and try awfully hard. You're something special, kid, and you're going to need to work harder than the typical monster to avoid their temptation. The bonds you hold with others will need to be stronger. With the way you look at that boy, I think you've got something real special right there."

Bael shot up out of his seat, face growing hot. "That's not who I was talking about!"

"Heh, and I'm Prince Charming," the Don retorted with a laugh. "You're young, and youngsters are terrified of having feelings. That's fine, but just remember what's at stake. You can choose to walk alone in the shadows, or side by side with those who will lift you up higher than you could imagine yourself going."

The Don stood up and put his cloak on once again. "It's time to go, your friend will be coming back soon I would hope. You want to be able to greet him properly when he does, don't you?"

Despite Bael's shame for earlier, seeing Lance was the pervading thought in almost everything he did. He had so much to answer for, but felt invigorated by the idea of making those amends. The Don was right, because of course he was. Bael could keep shouldering everything alone and hiding in the darkness, or he could learn to lean on someone else despite offering very little for it.

Someone to greet the dawn together with.