Silence reigned in the temple, a thick, unyielding silence that lapsed only for the break of voices or footsteps. Marble walls and features bounced those sounds but just as quickly returned to undisturbed stillness. The walls were too solid, the doors too reinforced. A conversation could be happening in one room yet be inaudible in the next.

Down one of those branching, subterranean hallways, past a sturdily locked bedroom door, the World Guardian sat crumpled in a chair, head bowed. One hand covered her face and the other gripped the chair's arm, knuckles white and tendons raised in exertion. Her chest rose and fell with short, shaking breaths, yet her eyes remained defiantly open, staring steadfastly between her fingers to the tiled floor beneath.

Such were the only outward signs of her struggle, combined with her greyed cheeks and lighter frame. The trailing scars over her eye stood out livid black against the pale backdrop of her face.

All Rosa could feel now was an interminable pressure, a shackle around her entire being that inched itself tighter every time she breathed. Any time she shifted, the pressure reacted, lancing through her body and into every nerve. Every time, she felt them respond slower.

He wasn't actively wrenching control from her; no, today he was apparently content to squeeze until she had no room left save for that within her own mind - and not even that.

Rosa drew a shuddering breath and clenched her teeth for the fifth time that minute. This wasn't something she would even muster the energy to fight; control was still hers - for now - but she had no way to resist, as mobile as an animal within an ever-shrinking cage.

Not that she had the faintest idea how to retaliate in the first place. How did you shift your own soul?

One that's half torn out, no less, she thought bitterly to herself.

Stop whining. You're still conscious, aren't you, Rosa? It could be so much worse. I could make it so much worse.

A shiver wracked Rosa's form and she straightened up enough to wrap her arms around herself, fingers digging painfully into flesh.

That voice. Every day, that voice, that stilled her heart and scattered her mind with the merest word. And her own was so quiet against it; a wailing child to the inevitable darkness.

On a normal day it had taken everything she had not to curl up and shut down at that voice. Now, it was her perennial companion.

More than anything else Rosa was struck by the overwhelming desire to sleep, but she knew that it wouldn't be her who woke up afterward.

She dragged a hand over her face, glaring sullenly at nothing, when something else caught her attention.

She felt another pressure, though this one insinuated itself throughout the entire room, and didn't make her very essence ache. For the briefest of moments, she felt her binds twitch, followed by the suggestion of muffled anger.

Rosa.

And then, in the blink of an eye and so slowly that she barely saw it happen, He was there. The Empty Lord, towering over her, countenance and presence so undisturbed and unruffled that Rosa half-wondered that He hadn't always been there.

The fixtures and details of her room retreated subtly around Him; regardless of where she steered her gaze, Zaros remained the centre of her attention, more ineffably real than anything nearby Him.

Half from shock and half instinctively, Rosa stood up, leaning heavily on the chair's arm as a fresh wave of vertigo took her. She was never sure how to speak to Zaros, or even how to react to Him. Personal visits were not exactly a frequent occurrence. Part of her thought it might be appropriate to bow; a larger part of her scorned that idea but nonetheless quailed at the thought of open rudeness. She settled for standing as firm as she could and nodding… politely.

You owe me no greeting, Rosa. I would not ask it of you in any case.

"I-I… thank you. Why are y-you…?" Her voice trailed into uselessness. Questions felt too direct; silence felt too brazen.

Zaros lifted one gauntleted hand and waved it languidly, in one easy movement dismissing Rosa's apprehension, yet somehow heightening it all the more. His expression was as opaque as it always was - not just for the covered face, but in His voice and demeanor. Rosa could never confidently intuit a single clear emotion from His words, not until the moment that it shook the world around Him. So much of what He was was beyond her.

So why was He here now?

I see your struggle, World Guardian. In this moment especially, you are subjected to an unbearable trial - I can see clearly what Sliske is doing to you.

And yet, you persist. Faced with a challenge that would have felled so many others, you hold the strength not only to deny him but to stand before me.

Rosa blinked, her vision threatening to blur again but still stolidly fixed upon Zaros. If a solitary meeting was rare, then such… praise was rarer still. For a heartbeat she was back on Freneskae, in that sheltered border between her mind and His, once again shocked at how…

… gentle He was.

She said nothing, at a loss for any appropriate response in the first place. The air hung heavy around her, pressing her for a reply, but Zaros seemed, if not understanding, then at least unbothered.

I feel I owe you an apology, World Guardian. You are central to all things, my own intentions most of all, and as such you are under my protection.

Yet I failed to foresee what Sliske would do with the Siphon, despite my own experiences with it. Further still, I have taken few actions to help you as you are now.

You don't say, Rosa thought to herself, but not too vehemently. She was sure He could hear her, sometimes. Vaguely, she imagined she could feel the rough-hewn violet shard around her neck buzzing.

I have been remiss in my duties to this world, and of all who have had to suffer Sliske's machinations, you have been impacted most, Rosa.

Where had this spiel come from? Rosa couldn't tell whether it felt hollow or genuine. She blinked, head pounding. She'd been so distracted in the conversation that she'd failed to notice the creeping numbness clawing its way down her arm. She clenched that fist, wrenching some feeling out of it before taking a breath in readiness to speak. Zaros inclined His head towards her, mask's eight eyeslits unfathomably deep and inscrutable. The motion faltered Rosa, and He broke the pause.

A verbal apology from me at this time would hold no weight and be little more than an insult to you.

You are aware that there are limitations to what I can do in this situation. Guthix's blessing protects you against many things, but it also stymies my efforts. I would release you immediately were it not for Sliske twisting those wards to his own gain.

So, World Guardian, in this situation I ask your permission and yours alone:

Will you allow me to ease your pain, to the extent of my ability?

Rosa stared up at the robed figure in front of her, taller even than a mahjarrat, and any words she might have had fled her. Of all the things she'd been expecting today, the Empty Lord Himself coming to her aid was not among them. Once again her memories skittered back to Freneskae, in the midst of a melee that she frankly had no right surviving. The flash of a wicked blade, the crashing impact of primordial, untamed magic, and yet, none of it proved fatal. She was gouged her whole body over and covered in smouldering burns, but never fell.

That had been His doing. Rosa hadn't gone into that battle alone; though at the time it had terrified her to do so, she had accepted Zaros' help against the onslaught of newly-dreamed muspah. She'd had no delusions of victory under her own power.

And here they were again: tiny, shattered World Guardian offered the assistance of a god.

She had no apprehensions this time. Anything Zaros did to combat this would have been infinitely better than the methods she'd invent by herself.

She took a breath.

"Yes. I will. P-please– help me." Her voice shook and she loathed it, but she was long past caring anything for how she appeared to others. She wanted nothing but an end to it.

I shall.

Zaros leaned in, narrowing the distance between them, and lifted His hands. Rosa tensed in nervousness and shock.

One metal-clad hand could have held her entire head, but here both were cupped feather-light to the sides of her face. Almost unthinkingly, Rosa sagged into that hold, exhaustion eating bone-deep.

Warmth seeped through her mind and her vision hued purple. For half a moment, the world around her vanished, and she was aware not only of her own consciousness, but Zaros', boundless and incomprehensible, looming from all angles.

Oddly, it was almost… soothing.

Sight returned to her, as did everything else. Zaros was once again straightened to His full height, observing her impassively.

Rosa shook herself, feeling the vestiges of Zaros' power leaving her, then - stopped.

Silence. Blessed silence. No insidious ache, no unbearable weight dampening her every action.

Her thoughts were her own again. There were suspicious gaps in between each thought, but his voice was absent from them. Stunned, Rosa merely stood where she was, rooted to the spot.

"Wh-what did you do?" she asked, voice wavering.

I encircled your soul in a barrier. I am unable to remove him, but with your consent I can act freely upon your soul. This is all I can do for you at this juncture, Rosa; you will not hear him and he cannot reach you, but I have not reduced his presence. He may still wrest control from you, but you are sheltered now.

Tears sprang to Rosa's eyes and she covered her mouth, relief so strong in her expression that it bordered on disbelief. Her shoulders shook and for a moment it was all she could do not to weep. She swallowed ungracefully and bowed, all prior reticence forgotten.

"Thank you."

Rest. Be with your family, World Guardian.

His only reply was a choked nod. Satisfied, or at the very least finished with His work, Zaros folded His arms and left. One second His image flickered as if underwater, transparent and monochrome, the next He was gone.

The room jerked abruptly into focus in His absence, and Rosa's head swam for a second. The presence of a god was overbearing enough with the energy that streamed off of them in waves, but Zaros took it one step further. There was something primally unnerving about Him.

Still. She was by no stretch of the imagination ungrateful.

Rosa exhaled heavily and turned back toward her chair, only to startle at the sound of knocking behind her. Taking a moment to still her heart, Rosa moved over and opened the door, fumbling on the lock briefly.

There, stately and imposing as ever, stood Azzanadra. In contrast to recent events, his expression was soft.

"Rosa… are you well?"

Rosa almost smiled at him. Her energy failed her at the last second, but she managed a teary nod, for once simply tired instead of harried to defeat.

Azzanadra smiled for her. Strong arms wrapped around her shoulders and she slumped against him, all pretence gone. He was warm, and safe, and she fitted against his chest perfectly.

"Then please… let us take this time together. I miss you. We all do."

—

Thank you, Lord. She deeply needed a reprieve. I fear for her, mind and soul.

For now I can do little more than that. She must not be lost to this.

She is strong, but her will suffers dearly from this. She is truly grateful for what you have done for her.

I only desire that this will bolster her resolve long enough for a solution to be found. Watch her, Azzanadra, and comfort her.

I will. She has spoken to me… she is warming to your presence, Lord. I believe you offer her a certain measure of… confidence that we cannot.

I am glad.

Afterword

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