The quarters Zeratul had been given felt cold and unfamiliar. They looked like Tassadar's and Zeratul could feel his presence nearby, but he could not ease his discomfort. He knew it was from the heavy, lingering veil of the Khala all around him. He hadn't even stepped upon Aiur yet and he could feel it weigh upon him. Even with his appendages severed, the noise was making him restless and uncomfortable; he needed to meditate now more than ever.

Slowly, he began to undress. Piece by piece he took off his armour with care. He didn't wear as much as Tassadar, but it still took time. Zeratul had often meditated nude when alone. He always preferred freedom - in all the aspects of his life. He often traveled alone, without the responsibility of others. He held the position of Prelate, but Raszagal had favoured for him to take over when her time would come. Zeratul wavered at her insistence; he was honoured, truly honoured that she would even think he were worthy to stand where she did. But the higher one stood, the smaller ones freedom seemed to be.

Zeratul spread his armour across the bed; he preferred to use the floor for meditation, the ground, and if he was fortunate, the water. Zeratul loved to swim, but his access to lakes and rivers was limited on Shakuras. Tassadar had promised to take him to the hot springs on Aiur upon their return; both of them knew it would never happen with the zerg there, but neither had said a thing.

The last thing he removed was the purple mask he wore, silk, soft to the touch. He glided his fingers over it; it still smelled of Tassadar. Zeratul sat on the floor slowly as the lights in his cabin dimmed with his movements. He adjusted his legs for comfort, crossing them as he splayed his hands atop his thighs. It was little things that helped him; darkness, the lull of water, wearing nothing, and the feel of skin on skin. He had meditated with Tassadar once - the night before his Shadow Walk.

They had slipped away in the shadows past the night's watch when their camp had descended to sleep. Protoss benefited from sleep like terran's did, but did not need it daily. The suns, the moons, the energies of space and the Khala fed them and replenished their energies in the way food and water did for terrans. But with most things for protoss, everything lasted longer.

Tassadar was sat between Zeratul's legs, his back pressed against the Nerazim's chest. They were beneath a large, draping tree, with branches that extended for fifty feet. The leaves were purple, tipped with blue, and the stalks of the tree were green. Insects native to the planet - Gith - hovered around them, their low buzzing never stopped, granting them a constant melody.

'I have meditated before, Zeratul,' said Tassadar, drawing his fingers along Zeratul's bare thigh.

'Your meditation is for the Khala - to immerse yourself further within, so you can understand it better,' said Zeratul with a steady voice. He could sense the restlessness within his companion. 'We meditate for ourselves.'

'Let us do it together,' said Tassadar, turning around to look at Zeratul. The Nerazim's green eyes flickered as he spoke.

'Meditation is a solitary practice -'

Tassadar turned and knelt before Zeratul, pushing aside his long psionic tendrils. He had twisted a sliver of Zeratul's purple silk through them this morning; Zeratul had advised him to remove it; Tassadar had laughed, telling him that the only person that cared enough to look that close was Zeratul. He almost told him to remove it once more, just to hear him laugh again.

'You have never meditated with another?' asked Tassadar.

Zeratul watched the templar; he was still restless. His hands played with Zeratul's thick braids, his fingers grazing his skin, touching the grooves of his forehead, clumsily.

'I have - several times. You forget how old I am.' Zeratul stilled Tassadar's restless touch with his own.

'I am ready, Zeratul,' he said, his voice a whisper, his eyes bright as the crest of his forehead, blue, shimmering beneath the rays of the planet's three moons.

The Nerazim shifted, crossing his legs loosely; he motioned for Tassadar to follow. As the young templar moved, Zeratul could feel the shift in his presence. An aura of excitement, of nervous trepidation surrounded him; but deep within there was a surge of awe, of admiration and respect.

'Bring yourself away from the Khala,' said Zeratul, 'as far as you can.'

For a while, Zeratul had watched the high templar begin his ritual. He had brought his appendages to his chest placing them close to his skin; the wisp of purple silk flickered in the cool night breeze. His hands were upturned, open, claws retracted, and he was as still as the tree they sat beneath. The Nerazim was impressed by his strength, by his inner resolve that resonated through his skin. It was music, it rippled in the air, it glided across Zeratul's skin.

But still, he could feel the Khala around them, heavier than before. Zeratul placed his hands atop Tassadar's, the tips of their fingers met.

Tassadar stirred and opened his eyes.

'You need to be further from the Khala. You need to be at peace', said Zeratul, gliding his thumbs across Tassadar's palms; they were warm to Zeratul's cool touch. Zeratul hesitated with his next words; he knew that Tassadar could hear the words if he wanted, but he never did. He never pressed Zeratul's mind unless it was a necessity, or their lives were in danger.

Still, Zeratul hesitated, and Tassadar waited. Zeratul's crest shifted to a deep, dark blue. Very few had witnessed that shift in his skin; and Zeratul hoped that Tassadar would be the last. 'When we...are close...intimate...there is nothing but silence, peace and us,' he said. 'There needs to be nothing now, but you.'

Tassadar nodded; now was not the time for words. He closed his eyes and Zeratul felt the templar pull within him the energies that surrounded them. Their hands were still touching and with skin on skin, Zeratul could feel Tassadar use their connection to ground his energies. It stirred the same feeling within the Nerazim when Tassadar touched his neck, when he drew his fingers along the curve of his thigh. Zeratul's crest shifted in colour to that deep, decadent blue again, and the feeling within rippled across his skin.

'Are you testing me, Zeratul?' said Tassadar, quietly, not breaking their hold, nor opening his eyes.

'A moment of weakness befell me,' he said, quickly steadying his resolve. There was little that stirred him, that changed him - except Tassadar. 'Resume.'

'As you will.'

The Khala lightened, the air grew thin. The strength of the templar filled the air instead, humming with a soothing rhythm. All other sound disappeared; the hiss of the insects dissipated, the breeze that carried the leaves stilled. Hours passed as they sat beneath the tree, still, silent, connected as one. Only as the suns began to rise did they break from their meditation and open their eyes in unison.

The suns were cresting over the horizon, their rays crowning Tassadar's head. Zeratul drew a hand down Tassadar's face. 'You are ready,' he said, 'Today you will walk, you will be one of us. Today, you will be complete.'

Tassadar leant into Zeratul's touch, his crest shimmering violet. 'I already am.'

Zeratul was pulled from his trance with a start; he could hear a call. Tassadar's call. But it was intelligible, the words were staggered and frantic, and fuelled by fear. He stood, shifted to the shadows and left his room. The lights of the corridor were dim; they reacted to the presence of the protoss as was necessary, and they could not sense Zeratul.

The call was louder as he approached; it pained him.

I come, Tassadar. Be still, I come for you.

Zeratul pressed a hand on Tassadar's door and it opened to his touch. Still cloaked, he stepped inside as the door hissed shut. He searched for Tassadar, unsure of what to expect. The templar was sat upright, shaking, both hands pressed tight to his crest which shifted colour, from red to almost black, unsteady, wavering, like his mind.

'Zeratul,' cried Tassadar extending a hand to the air. The Nerazim shifted from the shadows, kneeling before his lover on the bed. He clasped his hand, placing it on his face, letting Tassadar begin to ground himself, just like that night on Gith.

'I am here,' said Zeratul as Tassadar clung to the Dark Templar. His hands slid across Zeratul's skin, still bare from his meditation. He hadn't retracted his claws, and they nicked his flesh, but Zeratul didn't care.

'It - it was all over. Aiur was gone, Shakuras destroyed. We - we were no more - you were dead - we were all dead. There was nothing. Nothing.' He spoke frantic, broken words. Zeratul listened and held Tassadar close, giving his lover the comfort he needed. Soon, they would hear. Soon, they would come.

'It was a dream is all,' said Zeratul, wrapping a hand around the tip of Tassadar's tendrils. The High Templar felt a wave of tension fall from his shoulders from Zeratul's hold. It was one of the most intimate moments between two protoss; only those they love, those they trust implicitly held their appendages as Zeratul did. Zeratul knew he didn't have to ask; Tassadar's skin, mind, eyes emanated the desire for his touch, and Zeratul obliged. Tassadar's trembling subsided, and he shifted, pressing his forehead against the Nerazim's.

'Just a dream,' said Tassadar. 'But I know dreams. This - this - was more. A premonition. A warning.'

Zeratul glanced at the door. There was nowhere else he wanted to be, but it was the last place that he should be.'They are coming to you, are they not?'

Tassadar shook his head. 'I told them not to come.'

'Even in your frantic state?' asked Zeratul, his hand still holding the tip of his tendrils.

'I only called for you.'

'Your strength… is unique,' said Zeratul, his crest glowing a faint yellow with pride, with happiness, with love.

Tassadar, his composure slowly returning, took Zeratul's hand with his, their fingertips touching in unison. A faint hue of blue and green began to glow between their hands as their foreheads touched once more. 'I would not be who I am today without you, Zeratul.'

'All I have done is guide your path. You have taken the steps,' he said as he felt Tassadar slide a hand along his thigh. 'And you have demonstrated such power, such resolve I had not seen in all my years, Tassadar. You are unique. You might be the one to save us all.'

Tassadar drew his hand back up Zeratul's bare thigh, and down, and up. 'I do not want to bear this burden all myself.' He paused, sinking his fingers into Zeratul's taut skin. 'Whatever lies before us, will we face it together?'

Zeratul pushed Tassadar gently back onto the decadent bed. He fell back with a soft thud, his eyes flickering with anticipation.

'My life for Aiur,' said Zeratul, leaning down close as he straddled Tassadar. 'My life for you.'