This is an AU. I'm not a stickler for accuracy in the details but I do try my best. This story does have explicit sexual content, 18+. If you are offended by sexual themes don't start reading! There is artwork for this story at my deviantart account under aeltari.

He watched from the shadow of the trees, another day out of several, cloaked but still careful to avoid detection. He saw her wander through the garden, often stopping to touch and stare at her ring.

He had never seen her this way, broken and wistful, her hair flowing freely around her. He did not think he had ever seen her wear the accoutrements of a lady, such she had reserved for time away from prying eyes. All these days as he watched her trying to piece together her shattered mind, watched her in restless sleep murmuring prayers to her god Tyr that she didn't remember on waking, his heart ached for her.

He was helpless to watch, knowing and remembering everything she had been, had done. Realizing that to keep his vow to her he would have to shatter the fragile healing she had managed. To him, Kyrie was a warrior, a protector, a beacon of strength to all those who knew her. She had given her life to save not just her own people but the entire free world.

So many times over those years he had approached her with the full intent to tell her how he felt, but something always stopped him. So many days and nights travelling together, sometimes celebrating, and sometimes mourning. When one weakened the other lent their strength. Learning about each other, perfect moments he sometimes wished would freeze…

Kyrie turned as she heard his footfalls approaching. He had never been one to tread carefully in a forest, the snapping twigs and rustling leaves always gave him away. He was city born and raised, the trappings of finery were always what seemed to interest him most. He was, in truth, a creature of comfort. It was a sacrifice he made to follow her into the wilds, sleeping on the hard ground and drinking from wineskins rather then goblets. A sacrifice he made gladly.

Her eyes caught the light of a waning twilight, making them glow even more golden then usual. He felt his breath catch in his throat. Kyrie moved over on the rock she was sitting on, overlooking the valley, and invited him to sit with her.

"I need to ask you something…sort of an odd question really," she began and his pulse quickened slightly. Her ebony hair, caught up as it always was, allowed a few wispy strands to float in the breeze, tickling his face. He murmured for her to go on.

"Well, "she responded with a quirky smile. "Your name…"

He had laughed and looked over at her, inches away from him as she stared out over the valley.

"Sort of a label placed on me by a tutor, when I was yet very young. I had wanted to create a glass scrying orb. It was essential that I first manifest the base material with which to make the glass. When one misspoken word found me standing knee deep in my own beach, I thought I had done something insidious. Of course, I hadn't but the tutor referred to me as Sand from then on. I am, in truth, Althraion of House Nhaereseer. Hmm you know, there is power in true names, you wield this over me now." He said the last with a smile.

Kyrie had turned her face to him then, and whispered his name softly. It hung in the air between them and in truth he had never heard it sound so magical. She had leaned closer, as had he and their foreheads touched. He had slipped his arm around her and drew her head down to his shoulder, stroking her hair.

"What's going to happen to us, all of us?" she asked softly.

"Truth be told, I don't know. I truly do not know."

The twilight was giving way then to the night, and another set of footfalls came upon them. He hadn't let Kyrie go; he wanted that moment to freeze and last for eternity. He felt a heavy hand on his shoulder then, its mate on Kyrie's. The dwarf Khelgar didn't speak a word, but drew on their closeness to fill his own sense of unease. By the time the moon had risen over the valley, the tiefling Neeshka had joined them, as had the druid Elanee. His hand had not left Kyrie's hair, and her head had not moved from his shoulder.

That was the way it was, a time that felt like an entire existence ago. He couldn't recall exactly when he had fallen in love with her. He knew he had been taken in by those oddly colored sunset eyes the moment they were introduced by her uncle Duncan so long ago. It was an alien feeling to him; the only passion he had ever truly known was for his tomes, scrolls and artifacts. He never considered himself "lover" material and aside from an unsuccessful event in his past, he truly never thought the issue would surface in his life again.

He had so often wished his words were as eloquent and poetic as that of Casavir, wished he had known what to say to her and what to do to turn her heart towards him. Kyrie had leaned on him heavily at first, for his knowledge, counsel and friendship and he had felt the change as her attention was slowly diverted to the charismatic, handsome paladin.

He recalled the day he had happened on them together by the river. Until that moment he truly still believed that there was a chance she would somehow see how much he loved her, how much he was willing to do for her. He saw, that day, the way Casavir took her in his arms and kissed her, slowly, passionately. He saw how she looked at him and responded in kind. It was then that he fully realized that Kyrie would never look at him in that way. It did not, however, put out the torch that he carried for her.

When the news had spread that Kyrie, Casavir and Bishop had died during the aftermath of the battle with the King of Shadows, he had hastened to find her. He knew she had not died. A few simple words of magic at the right time during the heat of battle had given him a sort of magical signature with which to find her, should something untowards happen.

It was harder then he thought it would have been, the distance she had somehow been teleported to was far greater then he would have guessed. At first it was simply because Kyrie would need to know that someone else had survived along with her, that she wasn't completely alone.

Then slowly it dawned on him that all of his competition was gone. It had felt like the gods were granting him a second chance. That feeling multiplied when he had found her in the home of the dwarf, completely devoid of her memories. When he realized that she had forgotten everyone aside from her beloved Casavir, he remained positive: if he could help her grieve her loss, perhaps then she would give him her heart as he was still prepared to give his. This time he wouldn't wait, or hesitate. A second chance is a blessing not to be taken for granted.

Oh, Kyrie, he thought as he watched her. How do I do this? How do I keep my promise to you and bring you the truth, a truth that will rend your heart? Am I strong enough to pick up the pieces of your broken heart? My strength has failed me before, with another. I could not stand to lose you also.

Kyrie looked up from her reverie when she heard the voice. It was the voice that had spoken in her darkened room and lit up the glowstones. The one Magda called 'a guardian'. He stood behind her.

"Kyrie…my dear…I…I have watched you, guarded you for some time, since the dwarf found you in the forest. You look well, I must say."

"Who are you? Do I know you?"

He stepped around to stand in front of her. She looked up into an elven face, the expression kind, the lips slightly turned up at the corners. His tilted, sky blue eyes were intense, and he looked at her for some time without speaking. Dark hair hung down his shoulders and around his face. The robes he wore looked to be of the finest quality. He was quite obviously a wizard of some sort.

As he looked down at her, Sand realized that Magda had been right, emotions crossed back and forth across those eyes of hers as she tried to remember.

"You…you are familiar to me, but I can't remember…you were there…you were with us, with me and Cassi…" Her eyes suddenly widened and she jumped up from the bench. "Casavir! If you know me, then you must know where my beloved is! Please, oh please tell me, I am lost without him!"

She took his hands and held them, staring into his eyes expectantly. The elf sighed and raised one of her hands to his cheek for a moment, then pulled her back down to the bench, sitting beside her.

"Kyrie, I am Althraion Nhaereseer, one of your oldest friends. You know me also as Sand…" His eyes looked expectantly into hers, realizing that he had hoped she would recognize him instantly and be overjoyed to see him.

He did not know what to do with her confused, blinking stare. He berated himself for having foolishly thought she would throw her arms around him, instantly remembering everything. He knew better, but his mind and his heart were no longer connected.

"You extracted a promise from me once that I swore to uphold. That is why I am here now. Yes, I was there. Yes, I know where Casavir is. All of your memories, everything you have forgotten, I remember."

Kyrie's eyes flickered as she heard the pain in his voice, something was definitely not right. "Tell me, tell me where my Cassi is."

Her voice and her hands were shaking. She pulled them from his, and placed them tightly in her lap. The breeze blew her ebony hair around her face, making her sunset eyes glow even brighter. Gods, she was beautiful to him. The insanity that was love, turning his mind to a befuddled mess, swirling his thoughts and words around until he did not know what to say first.

"Kyrie, you must know first that we fought for our lives against a great evil. The wound in your chest is where a piece of a shard once lay. A shard that was part of a silver sword that you had remade for this great battle. I do not know how it was removed. Nor do I know how you got to be here in this forest, so far from home. My scrying tells me much, but also tells me nothing at times. Usually, this is when I need it most. However, I digress. You almost gave your life in this battle. The fortress in which we fought was held together by the essence of this evil, and when it was destroyed the fortress began to crumble."

Kyrie frowned at him. Flashes of memory came to her, sounds of battle, of pain…the screams of her friends…running, terror…blackness. The horror must have reflected in her eyes, for the elf Althraion reached up and lay a hand on her cheek for a moment. He stroked the smooth strands of her hair as the breeze continued to toss it about.

"It came down around us, Kyrie. The druid, Elanee transformed into a cat and ran. I protected myself with my spells. I saw Ammon Jerro take a terrible blow from falling stone and …I'm sorry I don't think he got up again. I lost track of the others, but Khelgar, the little Tiefling, and you ran ahead of me…"

"Please…enough of this. These names, I don't …I don't know. You haven't told me…my Cassi…" her chest was constricting slowly, her every breath became shorter and shorter. Her eyes begged for the truth, but her heart was screaming for him to silence his words.

Sand reached an arm around her shoulders and tried to pull her near. She broke away from his touch, and stared at him, beseeching him.

"Gods, Kyrie…how do I tell you this? There was a doorway, and a massive slab of stone came down beside it. The door was torn off and the sides collapsed inwards. Casavir reached it and held it up, his back against the rock. He pushed the demon girl through but you fought him. You insisted on staying with him and would not go. It was you who shoved me through the wreckage. Kyrie…I turned around to pull you with me but you would not leave Casavir. He shouted at you…."

"GO! Milady, please! RUN! I cannot hold this much longer!" Casavir's face was contorted with pain and effort. Blood ran down his beautiful face as rocks continued to fall on and around him.

Kyrie, sobbing, pulled his hand, screaming for him to let go and run with her. A fist sized rock slammed into his shoulder, bouncing off his armor and hitting his face. Blood flowed from the fresh wound.

The weight of the wall section was too much, his leg muscles were burning. "Kyrie! Do not let all of this be in vain! Get out of here! NOW. Remember my words. I will find you! Go with Sand! GO KYRIE RUN! I love you!"

Kyrie felt a hand in hers, pulling her away. She felt Casavir wrench her hand loose from his and push her away, saw tears mingling with the blood running down his face. As she was pulled down the shaking, crumbling hallway screaming his name, she turned one last time and saw him half leap, half fall away from the tumbling wall…

"…and you vanished before my eyes into a portal that winked out the moment you entered it, I didn't see who had…"

Kyrie interrupted and looked up at him, eyes wide and hands trembling. "But I saw Cassi, he got out from under the stones when we ran!"

The elf realized she had not heard most of his words. "Kyrie…he was … killed. He never made it out of the fortress. I'm sorry, I'm just so terribly sorry."

Anger flooded her face. The sunset eyes turned dark. She pushed him away and stood up, her voice hard as fought the hysteria building up inside her.

"You say you are my friend, yet you come here and tell me my beloved, my life…is dead? No, Sand, he is NOT dead. I would know if he were and he is NOT. Something happened to him yes, but it is not death. He made me a vow that no matter what happened he would find me. And he shall. Now go. Leave me."

Sand looked helplessly up at her, his lips parted to speak, but no words came to his mind. Kyrie turned angrily and ran back to the house, sobs forcing themselves out.

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Magda held the sobbing Kyrie, murmuring words of comfort, just as she had done to her own boys so long ago. She was upset at the wizard for having brought the world down around the lovely girl's ears, but was there truly a good time to tell someone the love of their life had died saving them? How could such news ever come at a good time?

Kyrie held onto the little dwarven lady. "Why could he say such a cruel thing to me? The first of my friends to find me, and he says…he says…" the tears started anew.

Magda pushed her up to a sitting position and wiped the tears from Kyrie's face.

"Now, lamb, listen to old Magda some. Ye dinna remember anythin' that happened to ye. Ye made him promise ye somethin' and he's doin' what ye asked of him. Only a true and good friend would risk so much to keep his word. Words are easily broken in this world, ye find someone whose willin' to risk it all to keep theirs, ye shouldna be too hard on them. He came here when I found ye, told me such a terrible story he did, asked me to mind ye and heal ye and give ye a home til ye came 'round, he did. He loves ye, lamb. He said he woulda died for ye and would do so again. He knows ye hurt, gods he knows it but he's a good man, for one such as he. Loyal, like me cat."

Magda tried to make her smile with that last little quip, and it worked. The edges of Kyrie's lips turned up slightly. Magda smoothed the disheveled ebony hair.

"Lamb, you need to do what yer heart tells ye. If it tells ye to go home, then go. If it tells ye to stay here, then this is your home also. I know how it feels me wee love, losin' yer fella that way…it pains me to see ye suffer but there's no I can do for ye." The dwarf looked away for a moment, a heavy sigh escaping her lips.

"M…Magda, Cassi isn't dead." The words were spoken with a certainty, the golden eyes large and sure.

"Och lamb, why do ye say that again? It isna doing ye good te…"

"He's not. He's not dead. I…I know. Surely as I know your cat is curled up on the porch, I know my Cassi is still alive. Something happened to separate us but…but he's not dead!" The eyes gazed imploring at Magda, and the little lady's heart fell to her feet with a clump. Poor child, she faced a long and painful journey to heal her broken heart.

Then from nowhere she remembered something from her past, from when her boys had been babes in arms. A gypsy caravan had travelled through and asked for a safe place to spend the night. Magda and her man had readily agreed; gypsies brought good fortune, and much mirth. One of the gypsies had silver hair, and golden eyes just like the girl's. She told Magda that she was descended from a celestial, a magical being gifted with great powers. As a result of this bloodline the gypsy was able to scry into people's lives and know things about them that only they knew. A fortune teller of sorts, but in reverse. She said it helped her understand folks better, knowing where they came from and what they had suffered in their lives. Magda had thought that a wonderful gift indeed. Could it be possible that this girl had a similar gift as a result of her bloodline? If so, that would discount her certainty as being simple grieving denial. Perhaps she truly did have knowledge that she could not explain.

"Lamb, ye told me once about yer eyes, ye called yerself something, what was it again? Me mind isna too sharp these days."

"I am Aasimar," said Kyrie softly.

"What does that mean exactly, lamb?"

"Someone in my bloodline, somewhere was a Celestial, a being from another plane."

"So ye are half an angel then!"

Kyrie shook her head. "No, not half, but some."

Magda nodded in understanding, and recounted her tale of the gypsy. She asked Kyrie if perhaps her Aasimar blood gave her some special abilities.

"I…I don't know. I don't know where I'm from, who my family is. Magda, you said I could go home…where is my home?"

The dwarf gave a small smile and said gently. "I don't know, wee lamb, but if ye can find it in yer heart te forgive him, I think maybe the wizard knows."

Kyrie pulled her hair to one side and began plaiting it slowly, not speaking. "I don't remember him, just that day, the day he says that…that…" The golden eyes filled up again, but Magda patted Kyrie's knee firmly.

"Now now lamb, I think we have gotten some idea that ye may be onto something about your Casee-veer there. Yer heart may know things yer mind hasna been able to remember yet. No more frettin' wee one."

Kyrie finished the plait and curled up on the couch. Within minutes she had fallen into a deep sleep, and an invisible hand pulled a soft wool blanket over her.