A man stumbled out of the woods.

It was the worst of the winter months, the entire village and the pines woods that surrounded it covered in snow. It took the few villagers outside at the moment a while to notice the new presence, and when the first of them did, a frightful scream split the air. He was dreadfully thin; as in, he should be dead. Even if hunger weren't the problem, the tattered, thin armor covering his person offered no protection against the deadly cold. He should have been frozen to death.

He was skeletal, dirty, stumbling. He collapsed in the snow, eyes rolling into the back of his head, before he could even reach the street. A few villagers started forwards with horror, intending to help the poor man.

And then the Ghost materialized above him, shell parting. The man let out a dreadful gasp for life, like one recovering from drowning. Shocked and terrified gasps were drawn from the witnesses, and they all backed off in fear and scorn as he pulled himself shakily to his feet, stumbling as he did so. He stood shaking violently, and looked up at the villagers pleadingly.

He found no sympathy in the snow-covered village. Only spite, for the chosen. Only fear of him, of what he could do. He only wanted food and rest. He only needed a little clean water to drink. Were those things too much to ask for? Not even a blanket to put over his shoulders? He was thrown out of the local tavern almost as soon as he stepped into it. Literally; they threw him into the snow outside, violently, and he lay there for several moments before raising his head, only to receive a kick to the gut.

"You're not wanted here! Go back the pit you crawled out from, chosen!" the warm, coat-wearing villager spat at him as he curled in on himself in pain. A whimper escaped his lips as he was dragged by the back of his collar through the snow, and tossed out further onto the street, into the full-blown blizzard. Men and women were taking shelter. The man left him there, to be covered in snow, buried by the storm.

His Ghost materialized, next to his head.

"I'll revive you when the storm is over, okay? Or would you like for me to wait until spring, when it's warmer out?" he asked. Gheleon managed a weak nod as reality faded from him once more.

Meanwhile, Daisy was sheltering in the tavern. All her old blankets were wearing rather thin, so she'd gone out to buy some new ones. She'd only gotten the one, and she'd wrapped it around her shoulders as the storm worsened, before relenting and heading inside, her old bones unable to take much more of the punishment.

She sat by a hearth, drinking a hot cup of tea, her blanket and winter robes laid out on the back of the chair she was sitting in. She closed her eyes, relishing in the warmth. Now, she may be old, but Daisy was a worrier. She worried for everyone in the village; no-one could hide anything from Daisy. If there was a problem, she sniffed it out. Her hearing was sharp, allowing for many 'accidental' eavesdropping. And what she heard that day would changer the rest of her life.

"...true the chosen tried to come in her?" ne man was saying. Daisy's brow raised. A chosen? Here in our village?

"Yup." came the angry growl of the tavern's manager. "Tried to saunter in here like he owned the place, acting all pathetic and pitiful. Ha! As if he needs shelter. It's not like he can actually die out there, eh?"

"I totally agree!" the other man said, as she sat bolt upright in horror. "Leave the shelter for the rest of us!"

She flew to her feet, swinging her robes and blanket on with feverish ferocity.

"What's gotten under yer skin, Daisy?" the manager asked as she stormed past him urgently. She whirled on him.

"You should be ashamed of yourselves!" she snarled furiously. "Turning someone out on the street in the middle of a blizzard! You make me sick!"

With that, she ran out of the building and into the gale, leaving them speechless. Her eyes searched the street desperately. She ran out farther, looking around wildly, and her gaze found a thin, pitiful hand sticking partially out of a pile of snow. She rushed forwards, and pushed the snow off of the man, uncovering him. He was skeletal, middle-aged, perhaps, with a scar of his left cheek. A small, polyhedral form was pressing itself against his neck. A Ghost! She'd conversed with one before; a rather pleasant little thing, he was, too.

She bent down over him, trying to shield the starved chosen from the wind. She took the blanket off from around her shoulders and lifted him slightly to wrap it around him. She wrapped her arms around him, trying to warm him up, before realizing she couldn't feel his heartbeat.

"Revive him!" she yelled to the Ghost, who was watching her with astonishment. When it didn't respond, she called above the wind again. "Revive him, right now!"

She couldn't possibly hope to carry him to her inn, not even in the lightweight, starved state he was in. He had to get up and walk with her, no matter how torturous the journey. The Ghost, struggling against the wind, parted his shell, pulsing with light, and then closed himself again, pressing against her for shelter as the chosen gasped. His eyes flickered open, revealing them to be a dark hazel color.

"That's it then." she told him gently. "Just take deep breaths, and I'm afraid I'm going to have to ask you to walk."

Slowly, she began to rise. His feet slipped in the snow, legs shaking with the effort of standing as she helped him up. She could feel every bone in his body through the blanket and rag armor he wore. Through the storm, they staggered together towards the general direction of her inn. She couldn't feel her hands by the time they got there, and visibility was near zero.

She jerked the door open, and led him inside before kicking it shut behind her. Her fireplace was still roaring, the only light in the entry room. Her inn was a rather cozy place, she liked to think. Wood and stone was what it was made of. Thick rugs on the floors, several couches and chairs close to the fire. Everyone, at this time of night, was snuggling into bed to escape the cold of the storm, so the entry room was empty.

She practically dragged him over to one of the couches, and took the wet blanket off of him as his legs gave out from under him. She held him up with one arm wrapped around his chest, and eased him onto the couch, pushing his legs up onto it last. Shivering, she checked his breathing. It was slow, and faint. The fact his Ghost could revive him didn't take away and of the distress the sight of him caused. He looked like he might have been wandering the wilds for weeks, perhaps months.

She hastily gathered several blankets and wrapped them over him. He's going to need a few good meals as well. She was hungry anyway. She put some soup on in the pot over the fire, taking off her winter cloths and wrapping a blanket over her shoulders. She looked back over at the chosen. He was still breathing, and his Ghost hovered close near one shoulder, watching her.

"Why would you help us?" the little machine asked. Daisy blinked in surprise.

"Why wouldn't I? I could never watch a man suffer like that and leave them. The people of this village are afraid of the chosen, yes. We've heard such terrible tales... but what harm can a starving man do? I'm too old to care about being afraid; I'll be dead soon anyway. Besides; while these people remember all the horror stories, they forget the heroic stories that come along with them." she explained. She got up, and walked over to kneel in front of the couch, holding out her hand. The Ghost floated up against her palm, shell cold as ice, looking up at her. "The actions of a few do not speak for a people as a whole."

No words were truer spoken.

A little Gheleon something taking place in the past.

In this fic, Guardians can be brought back from the dead, but sickness, starvation, and temperature differences cannot be 'cured' through revival. That's just a little too OP; the Iron Lords are just as likely to get the sniffles as the next guy.

Yup, not all these one-shots will be linear. I'm thinking in a few chapters you might see my own version of Efrideet and Saladin's reunion, or maybe what happened after the scene in the game cut. What was given to us felt... unsatisfying to me. I think it should have been a lot more emotional than what we saw.

Anyway, I updated Siblings to celebrate Fantastic Beasts coming out in Britain today! Jayfeatther and I are going out with some friends to see it on Friday, it's going to be wicked!

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