Author's Note: So this story is all planned out. There will be two more chapters after this one (unless I decide to write a sort-of epilogue thing?), so there you go.

I don't think I mentioned it earlier, but each chapter name is a line from "Yeul's Theme" from the XIII-2 soundtrack. Kudos to anyone who figured that out.

And enjoy!

316 AF

"She was the first," he said slowly. His eyes were on his hands, which were folded neatly in his lap. He stared at the creases on the knuckle of his thumb, the brown-tanned skin as unchanging as the first day of his eternal life. "The first Yeul I knew."

"The one... you became immortal for?" Yeul asked.

He was silent for several moments before nodding once. "Yes."

Year 570 of the Farseer Calendar, as declared by the Seeress Paddra Nsu-Yeul

Sleep came rarely to Caius but when it did, he dreamed of the past.

He saw the bright red dripping from the spikes of his sword and the still body in the grass, several feet away. One hand was outstretched, like it was reaching for its fallen weapon. He remembered listening silently until the faint, gurgling breaths of his predecessor thinned and faded altogether before looking up at Yeul. She had met his eyes across the distance unflinchingly, despite the splatters he knew colored the side of his face. In her expression was the same steel he had seen when he challenged her guardian to the duel.

He saw her hands clench on the arms of her chair as her eyes cleared of the vision. She looked away from his questioning gaze, away from the attendants and the faces of her people that filled the Audience Chamber in the Temple of Etro. She raised her chin, her eyes narrowing. The moment before she spoke, he knew this would be his first real test as a guardian of the seeress. "War," she declared, and the room went silent with the intake of breath.

He saw the armies marching down the valley toward Paddra, the sunlight glinting from the curves of the numberless beaten-bronze masks. He stood next to Yeul on the parapet above the city gate and he could almost feel the stiffness in her posture as she stared out at her own soldiers - the best of the Farseer Clan. "The battle may be long," he told her quietly, but she shook her head. "I will not desert my people," she said firmly.

He saw the blood on the plain, black in the growing twilight. Even in the half-light, he could tell that the enemy grossly outnumbered the Paddran men. Yeul had seen it as well. She turned to look up at him, the first flickers of panic showing in her dark eyes. "Go," she said. "Protect my people. Save Paddra." But Caius wasn't sure if he should obey her; his duty was to her, to defend her. "If the battle should go ill," he began, but she reached out and grabbed his hand. He froze; she had never touched him before. "It will not," she said in a low voice. Her face was pale.

He saw the soldiers of the invading army fall beneath his blade, but it wasn't enough; there were simply too many. His arms were tiring, the sweat trickling down his temple and between the layers of his armor. His hair felt heavy on his neck and he coughed a little, tasting blood. Caius risked a glance toward the city. His eyes found Yeul; in the light of the moon, he could see her cloak whipping back against the wind. She was still watching, still silently in vigil. He remembered the look on her face and he knew there was still something he could do.

That was when Caius woke up.

When he was free from the dreams he pressed his hand over his chest, searching for a heartbeat. He didn't need his dreams to remind him how the incarnate summoning had killed him; he remembered perfectly the moment when his heart stopped beating.

His chest was warm, unnaturally so. Sometimes, if he focused on that warmth, the heart glowed faintly.

It was her heart: the goddess, Etro.

Yeul was waiting when he woke from death. She dismissed the medics and came to stand by his bed. "They told me you were dead," she had said.

He told her what Etro had said - that she was pleased with his dedication and efforts, and that, in return, she would bless him to be Yeul's immortal guardian.

Her eyes had glowed briefly with a vision. "Ah," she said softly. "Then I think you and I are not so different."

He thought perhaps that he'd understood what she meant. But then, as he looked again into her grim face, perhaps he did not entirely.

Caius let his breath out in a slow exhale. It had been almost one year since he had become Yeul's guardian, but the dreams still haunted his rest. At times he wondered why he still bothered.

Faint moonlight filtered through his open window, giving him an easy view to the towering alabaster Temple of Etro. The high peaks of the mountains that served as a natural boundary between Paddra and the broad expanse of Pulse were dark blue, almost black in the distance. Caius leaned against the wall, looking out. It would be several hours yet before he could conceivably move about freely, without arousing suspicion or alarm for the seeress's safety. Yeul...

Yeul was a contradiction.

She was strong; her willingness to defend and care for the welfare of others before herself was widely known. Her resolve was a pillar of strength for her people, and her example had kept the masses from frantically fleeing the city when she foresaw the attack by one of Paddra's sister city-states.

It was her force of will that first drove Caius to train his body and exercise his mind, to fight to be worthy of her. She showed no weakness, and he admired that.

But the longer Caius had been Yeul's protector, the more he saw that the covert girl was not the same as the public seeress. When Yeul addressed her people or directed the attendants and priestesses, he caught glimpses behind her mask of confidence. When she stood to conduct her sermons - to tell her people what she had seen - Caius could see that her hands were shaking. At times when she looked even at him, her jaw trembled.

The responsibilities and reputation of the Eyes of Etro must be heavy, indeed.

A shadow flickered from the corner of Caius's eye and instantly he turned. Through the blue darkness of his room, he could see nothing out of place. But beyond his arched doorway was a stretch of moonlight that spilled out from Yeul's chamber, next to his own.

Yeul.

Caius silently drew the slim knife that hung from a sheath attached to his calf. There was no time to buckle his armor into place or to retrieve his larger sword. Caius pressed himself against the wall, dressed only in his black undertunic and leggings, and moved quickly into the hallway. The slate-grey stone floors were cold beneath his bare feet and Caius was glad; the temperature difference helped him focus. Carefully staying in the shadows, he slipped into Yeul's chamber.

He spotted the intruder immediately; they were approaching Yeul's bed, a dagger in one hand. Yeul herself was asleep, one limp arm pale against the furs and blankets. Caius hunched over, decreasing his noticeable height as much as possible, and quickly crept up behind the assassin. he intended to make an easy kill and simply cut the killer's neck, but he wasn't given the chance. As Caius slowly rose, the man must have sensed Caius behind him and turned, the dagger flashing outward in a bright arc.

Caius rolled lithely to the side and slashed the tendons at the back of his opponent's knees. The man hissed in pain and braced himself against the bed as his legs buckled. He blocked Caius's upward stroke at his chest and fumbled for a second weapon at his belt. Caius twisted to the side and swiftly snapped the assassin's wrist. The man cried out through clenched teeth and winced. In this moment of weakness, Caius broke the man's rigid arm hold with his elbow and shoved the man's nose into his face with a dull crunch. As the intruder's arms slackened, Caius smoothly slid his knife across the vulnerable neck. He stepped back as the lifeless body slid from the bed and crumpled to the floor.

He wiped the blade clean on his pant leg and looked over at Yeul. He was almost unsurprised to find she was awake and watching him; her wide eyes met his in the silent room. Caius sheathed his knife and took another step away from the body, toward her. "Yeul," he greeted her.

She flung her blankets back and stood. "Guards!" She called. She turned to her bedside table and had barely lit the long wick of her lantern when five guards filed into her room.

"Yes, seeress?" The first one asked, but his eyes were already focused on the dead man by the side of the bed and the stream of blood that was quickly pooling behind his head.

Yeul looked up; black shadows clung to the hollows of her cheeks, eyes and nose. "Take the assassin away," she said softly. "Please send one of my attendants to - to clean the floor." Her voice was firm after the slight hesitation of phrasing.

"At once, seeress."

Yeul looked on as the soldiers lifted the body and carried it away, leaving fat drops of crimson in their wake. She turned to Caius, and he watched as her eyes glanced at his hands and then away. Belatedly, Caius noticed the spray of blood on his arms and quickly began to rub them on his pants.

"Here." She held out a handkerchief.

Caius came forward to take it. She turned half away from him, and as Caius cleaned off the blood to the best of his ability, he watched her.

Her shoulders were quivering.

"Yeul, are you... well?" He asked, framing his words with care.

She flinched almost imperceptibly, but Caius caught the motion. "I..." she began but trailed off. He wondered if her vocal chords had locked, restricting her speech.

"Yeul?" He pressed again. Concern leaked into his tone.

Slowly she turned and her eyes, lit with the flickering lantern's flame, shone. "I... I'm alright," she said slowly, but her hands were clenched in the folds of her skirt. "I'm just a little shaken."

She was obviously lying. Since blood and death had never seemed to affect her, Caius decided that the near-assassination by a silent murderer was what troubled her. "I'm sorry," he said.

"You don't need to apologize," she replied quietly.

Caius stared at her for several minutes. Here was the crack behind her mask of strength again, but broader than he had ever seen it. He was seeing fully what the people of Paddra had never beheld in their self-assured seeress: a young sixteen-year-old girl who stood shaking, realizing for perhaps the first time how vulnerable she was. Any other girl would need to be comforted after the ordeal.

Yeul was not 'any' girl. But she might still need reassurance.

He held out his hand, palm upwards, toward her. After a moment's pause she walked to him, her hands closing instead around his wrist. She stood quite close to his side and pressed her forehead against his bare bicep. "Thank you, Caius," she murmured. He could feel the gentle touch of her breath against his skin. "Thank you for keeping me safe."

By the time two of the attendants came, carrying buckets of water to clean the blood, Caius had returned to his room and Yeul was sitting on the bed, calm and collected once again.

To be continued...