A/N: In which things draw to a close.

Ral's neck ached, and his eyes felt heavy. He blinked them open slowly, and the first thing he saw was a blur of green everywhere. This wasn't his lab. He wasn't at his desk. For one thing, the chair he was slumped in was much more comfortable than any chair he had access to in Nivix. For another, there was a bunch of small flowers that seemed to have taken root in one of the crevices of his gauntlet.

He shifted in the chair as his brain finally managed to place him. The elf's dwelling-place. After the fight at the tower, the Azorius had arrested Maree and her helpers. Ral, who would have preferred to introduce a large quantity of electricity into her system, had been too tired to have another argument, and too worried about the deep sleep Jace seemed to have slipped into.

A hasty conversation between Emmara, Lavinia, and the Orzhov Maze-runner had ended with the decision—made entirely without consulting Ral—to take the Living Guildpact to Emmara's house for safekeeping. They had, of course, allowed Ral to tag along. Very kind of them, he thought bitterly.

Four days later, and Jace had still not woken. Ral rubbed a hand across his unshaven face. It wasn't even stubble anymore, at this point: it had attained scrubby beard status. Ral's voice was hoarse from talking to Jace, and he wasn't even sure why he was bothering. It was pretty clear that Jace's brain was permanently fried. Which meant that everything had been basically pointless. Well. The Guildpact was intact, at least in some kind of way, so maybe other people would call it a success. Ral called it pointless.

A large yellow eye appeared at the window. "Guildmage Zarek, you are to be commended for—"

"Go away," Ral said dully, his eyes barely leaving Jace's empty face. There was a pause.

"A seat on the Izmundi has recently opened up and—"

"I said fuck off," Ral enunciated clearly, then added, for good measure, "you old bat."

"Hrm," rumbled the dragon, but the eye disappeared.

Ral waited for another five minutes, still staring. Once, he reached out to touch Jace's hand, but stopped himself before he got close enough to touch. Finally, with a sigh, he levered himself out of the chair, holding onto the arm for a moment as a wave of dizziness washed over him and then passed. He wrinkled his nose and sneezed miserably. He needed to breathe some air that wasn't vaguely floral-scented. He slammed the door angrily behind him as he stormed out.

Once he made it to the street, he realized he didn't actually want to go anywhere, paused in indecision, and finally flung himself down onto the sidewalk because the dizziness had come back and his feet were already hurting. Wisps of cloud began to trickle out from beneath his gauntlet, curling upward into the vague semblance of a tiny rain-cloud. "Oh, come on," Ral said in disgust as it started to drizzle onto his head. This hadn't happened in years. Not since he had left the place where he grew up, in fact. Rain mage echoed in his head, but even that memory was not enough to spark his rage into lightning. The anger had drained away, leaving him cold and empty.

Moisture collected on his hair and began to trickle down his face and neck. Staring out through the blurred mist made by the rain made everything seem soft and dull. They would probably have colors again, he supposed. Things usually did. But somehow they seemed even greyer than they had after the events of the Implicit Maze.

The door creaked open behind him, and he heard a light tread behind him. "Guildmage Zarek," the elf said. "Is there a reason you're out here sulking? Jace wants to see you."

"Because I don't want to—" A sudden jolt of adrenaline shot through his stomach, accompanied by a mini lightning strike from the cloud. "What?"

"He woke up just after you went out."

The cloud collapsed with a wet splash, leaving nothing behind but a puddle as it dispersed. Ral blinked against the sudden wash of sunlight in his eyes. "What are you doing out here then?" he demanded.

"I just told you. Jace wants to see you."

"Did you leave him by himself?"

"He's fine, Ral."

"He is not fine! He's—" Ral cut the words off. "Why doesn't he want to see you?"

Emmara's eyebrows went up. "I imagine he'd like to see me as well, but I was there when he woke up." Of course she was. The perfect elf. Ral felt his brows coming together in what he knew was an unbecoming and rather petulant scowl, and he opened his mouth to say something that would probably get him slapped, but Emmara spoke again before he could the words out. "Are you jealous, Guildmage?"

Sudden heat spread through Ral's face and across the back of his neck. "Ah—no?"

"It would be rather foolish of you, considering I have already told you that I don't view Jace that way."

"That doesn't mean he doesn't view you—" Ral shut his mouth again. He could already tell that he sounded like an idiot.

"I like to think Jace would respect my wishes," Emmara said sharply. "But let me put it this way, Guildmage Zarek. I don't particularly like you, but you're not a hundred-year-old necromancer who's trying to kill me, so this is a step up from Jace's last choice of a romantic partner. And I'd prefer that not become a pattern, so maybe you could try not completely screwing this one up?"

Ral tried to process this, but his brain was still too exhausted. He settled for saying, "I do not screw things up," and getting slowly to his feet again.

Emmara sighed. "I'll send a servant to get you a towel," she said. "Let's avoid giving Jace pneumonia, shall we?"

Jace didn't realize he'd dozed off again, until he heard someone's voice saying his name, and he blinked his eyes open to see Ral's concerned face bending over him. "Oh, you're back," he said.

"What?" said Ral, clearly taken aback.

Jace yawned, blinking to clear the sleep from his eyes. "You were here just now, I think," he said. "Talking to me. Something about equations of current?"

Something Jace couldn't identify crossed Ral's face, and the mind mage was too tired to exert his powers right now. "You heard that?" Ral asked, his voice oddly soft.

"Sort of?" Jace said. "I've been—drifting in and out." It had been a strange few days. He still wasn't entirely sure his mind was totally knitted back together, but then, he was somewhat used to that feeling. This was certainly no worse than realizing he wasn't Kallist after all—in fact, it was much better in several regards. "But you were here every time," he said, slowly. It was the only constant thing he had in his head—Ral's voice rambling on about nothing in particular, Ral's fingers brushing his palm lightly when no one else was there, as if he didn't want anyone to see.

Ral swallowed, and Jace watched him. "Well," he said, apparently searching for a snarky remark, but all that came out was, "yes." His eyes dropped away from Jace's.

Jace smiled. "Thanks," he said. "It, um. It helped."

"Yeah. No problem."

Jace paused again. "Do you think you make this more awkward?" he asked finally.

That drew Ral's eyes back again. "What?"

"You're trying, I can tell," Jace said. "But I think maybe you could make it more awkward if you tried really hard."

A smile caught at the side of Ral's mouth, and he ran a hand through his hair. "I'm not exactly a gorgeous elf or a hundred-year-old necromancer who still manages to maintain her flawless looks, you know."

Jace reached out and grabbed the hand. "You know," he said. "If I were only attracted to flawless women, I wouldn't have gone to bed with a scruffy Izzet mage."

"And it went so well for you, too."

"Ral—"

"I don't know what you want! I don't know how this happened! I don't know how to deal with—whatever this even is, Beleren. Jace." Tiny sparks danced through Ral's wild hair, and Jace had to laugh, but he sobered quickly.

"This is me saying I like spending time with you when you're doing stupid experiments. And when you're throwing tantrums over the fact those experiments aren't working." Ral opened his mouth, and Jace put a finger on it. The Izzet mage shut up faster than Jace had ever seen him. "Yes, you do throw tantrums. And I think they're actually pretty entertaining to watch. I mean, no, I don't want you to be always throwing tantrums, but—look. I know I—haven't always made the best decisions in a romantic context, and I'm not exactly sure what I'm doing either. But I'd like to see where this goes. And if it goes to you ripping my clothes off and pinning me down in a chair some more—I'm not really going to object to that, to be honest." Ral was leaning forward, but there was still a shade of doubt in his eyes. "Oh, for Krokt's sake—call it an experiment, Ral. Okay? How quickly can you get the Living Guildpact to fall in lo—"

Ral kissed him. Jace's eyes slid shut, breath hitching up in his throat as the flow of words turned into a jumble of noise. Ral's lips on his were warm and desperate, the lightning mage's hand falling up to grasp at the side of Jace's cheek. As Jace started to respond, the lips moved, trailing away and down the side of his mouth, as if Ral couldn't focus on just the one spot. Pinpricks of pain played down Jace's throat as Ral nipped his way down it. A moan spilled out of Jace's throat, and he reached out to drag Ral back up to his mouth.

"Let me kiss you," he managed. "Ral, please."

"Well, if you're going to beg," grinned the lightning mage. Jace sighed and leaned forward, catching Ral's lips with his again, his own hand reaching up to grab at Ral's shoulder. Ral rolled onto the bed, legs landing on either side of him, his hands dropping to pin Jace's to the bed, his mouth on Jace's again, their lips moving messily against one another.

As one of Ral's hands slid down Jace's side, he heard the door open quietly, and finally, finally risked sending out a gentle mental probe to see who was there. It was Emmara. Sorry, Jace thought to her.

It's all right. I'm glad you're feeling better. I'll just let you two have some privacy, shall I?

If you wouldn't mind.

Don't worry about the sheets. I'll have one of the servants wash them later. The door closed again.

Ral sat up, straddling him. "You sent her away."

"You knew she was there?"

"No, I'm deaf."

"Of course I sent her away! Why wouldn't I send her away?"

"Thanks," Ral said, and Jace threw up his hands.

"Are you seriously thanking me for—"

Ral smirked, then ducked forward to kiss him again. "So just how recovered do you feel, Jace?"

Iskra ducked back into her tent. She had been at the fire, enjoying dinner with the rest of her family, when she thought she'd seen two shadowy figures outlined momentarily against the cloth of the tent. It had better not be some of those cultists again, though she had no idea why they'd want to invade her tent.

She sniffed the air as she entered on tiptoe, catching a hint of crackling ozone—and a hint of something else, too, a smoky aroma that reminded somehow her of the dragon on the temple she had seen weeks ago. Raising the tent-flap high to let in the firelight, she looked around.

The tent was empty. Her pallet still lay where she had left it unrolled in the morning. She ought to have tidied it up, but she'd been too lazy to bother on a day when they weren't traveling, and she'd overslept, in any case. She was certain, though, that she hadn't left any of her belongings on it. Now there was a dark, wrapped bundle lying in the center.

Squinting in the dim light, she called a spark to her hand to illuminate the room as she knelt by the bed. The bundle on the bed was wrapped in rough paper, wet and soaked through with rainwater—but it was bone-dry outside. Frowning in confusion and interest, Iskra peeled the wrapping back. Light glinted off something metal inside, but the first thing she felt was damp cloth.

As the paper came away, she saw that nestled safely inside it was a slim gauntlet with a metal casing fixed to the bottom. In growing excitement, she slid it over her hand and found that it fit snugly. She felt the crackle of dry paper beneath her palm as something inside the gauntlet hummed to life. The hairs stood up on the back of her neck.

As she twitched her nose in excitement, she drew the note from the inside of the gauntlet. The handwriting was crabbed and difficult to read, but after a moment she made it out.

Iskra,

Thanks for everything. This device should help you in your future studies. Come find us when you can.

R.Z & J.B.