Blind Devotion

by dnd4evr

While on the run from a haunting past, a half-orc warlock finds himself the chance companion of a blind elf doctor. Despite her quirks, he finds great comfort in her company, and the two make fast friends...even if their enemies are never far behind. All original characters that are HIGHLY INSPIRED by the cast of Critical Role.

21. Blood from a Crystal

Sendori Ruasar Nind Vel'uss Yewl Hermet, begrudging keeper of the truncated moniker "Sen Russar", briskly walked across Dawnfather Square in the deepening chill of the growing evening. His breath puffed into dissipating fog in the fading light, but the cold could not quell his spirit as easily as his warmth on the breeze.

The day had been a flurry of excited errands since that strange healer had visited earlier that morning. Somehow, the combination of her expert care, her healing magic, and the shards of residuum embedded in Vax'ildan's skin and eyes had heightened his own perception enough to briefly see the Weave itself, the source of all magic, as it bent around the magical objects in their laboratory. Unable to test this new sight on an actual residuum crystal, Vax'ildan had thrown himself into transcribing everything he could see around the objects for some hope of a pattern, while Sen had raced off into town to find an enchanter to make some sense of the noise.

His efforts had proved extremely fruitful, and despite delays caused by the de Rolo's pet bear, Charlie, within the park and wanting to play during his dash through, Sen felt it had been an incredibly productive day. He truly believed he and Vax'ildan could successfully invent that rechargeable battery they needed for their arcane construct.

At the very least, he felt that they were finally on the right track.

As such, he felt it was his duty to find the healer, thank her for her work, and speak to her about her need for the residuum. Vax'ildan had already given him permission to approve or reject her request upon concluding the interview, and his own curiosity had spurred him on as well. After all, when they had first spoken, he had noticed a very strange reaction between her and her green-skinned companion.

She seemed to be afraid of him.

Granted, her reaction had been during her companion's not-uncommon reaction upon seeing Sen, which he had seen from most people in Tal'Dorei (and, to be fair, quite a large swath of Exandria). Even so, normally the word "drow" was enough to get people to flinch away from him, and he was surprised to see her flinch away from her supposed assistant and protector instead.

There must have been a reason.

Finally, he stood before the entrance of the Snowdrop Requiem, a cozy place on the edge of Dawnfather Square. While he was not as deeply entrenched in the history of Whitestone as his superior and good friend, Sen was well aware snowdrops were the symbol of one of the grand protectors of the city, and he briefly hoped the implied protection would extend to him. After all, he had his concerns about that blind healer's companion, and if he was right, she would need more than vague divine protection to escape.

A little nervous, Sen straightened out his coat and hair in an effort to calm himself, and then stepped within the tavern. The warmth that washed over him was welcome, but a sudden crash in the corner caused him to flinch.

His attention was immediately pulled to the explosion of movement in the back of the tavern, where a half-orc man, wreathed in oily, blue-black flame was lunging at a human man. The half-orc's eyes sparked with gold fire as his fist cracked heavily against the other man's jaw, and it barely registered to Sen that the man had simply taken the hit while the group around the table scrambled to get between them.

Sen's mind was immediately convinced. The half-orc was clearly an abuser, and the healer was in danger. He had to find her!

He quickly scanned the room and managed to spot the healer, without her coat, ducking into the back of the tavern, completely unseen by her companions. Sen thanked the goddess Raei and shed his own coat before he dashed back out into the street, his heavy coat over his arm. If his mental math was right, the healer was heading to a back door of the tavern, and so he bolted around the corner and dashed into the back alley of the street.

The street was empty.

Sen looked left, right, any angle he could take down the alley, and beyond the boxes and clutter of the back streets, he couldn't spot anyone. His heart was pounding in his ears. He had to find her.

What was her name again? Something about a flower? Daffodil? Daisy?

Sen cleared his throat and hoped he had the right name. "Miss Dahlia?" he called out across the alley.

His internal begging for her to be nearby nearly drowned out the sound of a whimper from behind nearby crates. Cautious but hopeful, Sen slowly came up to the large wooden box of root vegetables and leaned around, peeking at the shape hiding behind it.

Huddled on the ground, holding her knees to her chest and in tears, was the short, black-haired elf he had seen earlier. Despite already being the smallest elf he had ever seen, she somehow looked even smaller as she sniffled and suppressed sobs in that tiny hiding space.

Sen kneeled down in front of her, briefly hesitating as he decided how to open a conversation. "Hey… I don't know if you remember my voice, but I'm Sen. You helped my friend earlier. Would you like me to take you somewhere safe?"

The healer, who he really hoped was actually named Dahlia, winced away from him as soon as he uttered the word, "take", and gripped herself ever tighter. Her head ducked in toward her chest, her face completely turned away.

"Here," he said softly, while he gently touched his coat to her arm. "It's cold out. You can wear my coat for now."

At first, she did not react, the silence between them palpable as he wondered if he was even heard. The momentary pause was even enough that he almost drew the coat back, but then she pushed the coat back towards him instead.

"I…I shouldn't," she whimpered, her voice struggling around her tears. "I've caused enough-"

Her will failed and she fell back into sobs, a choked sound that tugged at Sen's heart as she tried to suffocate her crying in her arms. Once again, he gently pushed the coat against her arm, which was barely guarded against the cold by a simple cotton blouse and a leather breastplate.

At least her leather armor would provide some warmth, if she refused again.

"I insist. Please, let's get you out of this cold and somewhere you can feel safe, even if it's just for a moment," Sen said gently. With a protective firmness to his voice, he continued with an assurance against her fears; "I promise no harm will come to you while in my company."

Dahlia hiccuped and dabbed away tears with the back of her arm, but she finally raised her head to face him. With a heavy, almost defeated nod, she slowly came to her feet and numbly pulled the coat around her shoulders.

Sen reached forward cautiously and settled the coat more squarely around her shoulders. "There. That's sure to feel a little better," he said with a smile. He stepped back to give her some space and spoke brightly, as he knew a distraction would greatly help her spirits. "What do you say we get something unnecessary, like a treat? When I'm having a bad day, sweets always help me."

Dahlia's face once again fell toward the ground. "You don't have to," she mumbled.

"While that's true, I do want to," Sen said with a bright smile. He already had a place in mind. He held out his arm for her to take and beamed. "Shall we?"

Dahlia nodded, an errant tear rolling down her cheek as she waited. The pause became awkward as she continued to await instruction, although she did wipe the cold moisture away.

Right, blind. Sen mentally kicked himself and shifted awkwardly to scoop up her hand to place on his arm. She flinched, clearly wary of the contact, and his heart broke for her. How many blows had she taken from her supposed protector?

Once her hand rested in the crook of his arm, as proper for a noble lady, he began to walk back to the street, her steps in sync as soon as she became used to the movement. He continued to smile, partly to help her stay calm, but mostly because of his excitement for their destination. "Do you have a preference in this city, or shall I pick?"

Dahlia shook her head. "I… I don't. I've never been here before. We had only arrived this morning."

Sen almost had a bounce in his step as he began to lead her down a nearby street. "Then I'll pick. It'll be a small place, out of the way, and I promise it's welcoming. They didn't even flinch when I first walked in."

She nodded, but otherwise did not seem quite reassured. As she did not respond, Sen bit his lip and walked in silence for a few steps before he became concerned in the quiet.

"How are you doing?" he finally asked.

Again, silence fell between them. Sen watched her expression as they walked, fog obscuring her lips as the cold air condensed her breath each time she shuddered through a mental battle. He could almost watch her anguish wash across her face.

Perhaps she had lost her voice to a similar darkness that had stolen his, once upon a time.

"Would you like to hear a silly story?" he asked, a soft smile on his face.

Unable to respond, she nodded, her face fallen.

"It was late in the day here in Whitestone," Sen began, his voice naturally light and cheery from the memory he began to recount. "I had only been here a month, and while Vax had welcomed me with open arms, many others did not. I had spent the day fighting failures in the lab and aggressive taunting, and I was exhausted. I decided to walk the streets just as the sun finished setting when I saw the fattest cat I had ever seen in my life. He looked at me, meowed, and then just sauntered off as if he owned the town! Not really thinking in my tired haze, I followed the cat.

"After a few turns, the cat entered this place with a hole in the door just his size. Curious, I opened the door as I yawned, not even realizing that there was this jovial yelling coming from inside. So I open the door, just finishing my yawn, when bam! There was a roll in my mouth!"

Sen almost burst out laughing at the memory, and struggled to finish the story through giggles. Dahlia's look of disbelief had nearly sent him over the edge. "The young lad behind the counter looked mortified. Turns out he had been jokingly throwing them at his father who was now next to me. And I just couldn't stop laughing at how ridiculous it was." Sen paused for a moment to take a deep breath and settle himself to finish the story. "Those two joined in, and I've been a regular since," he explained.

Dahlia giggled, a tired but quiet laugh, but Sen still considered it a victory over her previous demeanor.

Sen spotted the sign and quickened his step. "It's called Kitty Biscuits, and it's where we're going," he explained. "They have some of the best milk bread I've ever had, and I think a happy place will be good for us both."

Dahlia stumbled slightly as she tried to keep up. "I've…never had milk bread. What is it?"

Sen rolled his head a bit as he tried to think it over. "It's a little silkier than traditional bread. It's almost fluffier too, but Vax says I'm making that part up." He snickered at the memory of several pseudo-arguments with Vax'ildan over the months. There were quite a few to pick from.

Dahlia seemed to surface from her darkness by another step as she turned to him. "I would like to try it, please," she said hesitantly.

As they had reached the door, Sen stopped in front of the entrance and beamed at her. "You can have anything you like. I'll buy."

"I-I can pay you back," Dahlia said quickly.

"I believe you can, but think of this as a gift," Sen responded. "Welcome to Whitestone, Miss Dahlia."

Dahlia sniffed and tapped away tears from her eyes. "Thank you. And…are you… Are you really a drow?"

"Born and raised," Sen said proudly. "Never saw the sun until my 21st year. On the sunny days I still need my tinted glasses just to see," he added, a little embarrassed.

Dahlia's face fell again and she spoke softly. "How…do you get people to accept you?"

She sounded so scared.

Sen sighed and turned to face her. "It can be hard. Those who are truly good don't care, and those who can relate are the same. Everyone else…? You can either become the monster they believe you to be, or get to know them and prove you are not. Some people are lost causes, I admit, but with work it is possible to be who I am."

After a short second, he then added, "It helps having those behind you who want to protect you."

Dahlia nodded slowly, clearly internalizing the lesson. It was at that moment that Sen wished he could read minds as easily as a specialized mage.

Thankfully, they had arrived at Kitty Biscuits, the wooden sign of a fluffy gray and white cat settled in loaf shape with a set of buns arranged like a cat paw below its chin creaked gently in a soft breeze. The bright, wide windows showed a clean and comfortable interior, the color of warm baked bread in the wooden walls and lathed accents. Even from the street, a passerby could peek in and notice a strange set of shelves and baskets across the right side wall of the shop.

"And here we are!" Sen said with a smile, as he indicated the sign out of habit. "I'm going to enter first, just in case there's any more errant rolls flying through the air," he said with a wink.

Another victory, as Dahlia audibly giggled, albeit softly.

If Dahlia had any doubts about Sen's validity, it was immediately quelled by the clerk's reaction to seeing them both at the door. With a voice as bright as his smile, the clerk piped up. "Sen! It's not your usual day, but we're glad to see you! The usual?"

"Always! And whatever this lady wants!" Sen replied, just as brightly. With a softer expression, he turned to Dahlia. "Miss Dahlia, would you prefer I read you the menu, or would you like the clerk to do so?"

In response, Dahlia turned away and pulled into herself again. "C-could you, please?" she stammered, her voice quiet.

The clerk took on a look of concern and tilted his head as he looked at them both. "Is she okay?" he asked, more to the room than to Sen specifically.

Sen waved it off with a nonchalant smile. "She's perfectly fine; just a small sight issue." Without missing a beat, he then turned to Dahlia and recited, verbatim, the entire menu, although he neglected to mention he was doing so from memory as she almost drooled at the mention of various foods. Plain bread and biscuits were on offer, but so were cheesy rolls, flavored biscuits (both sweet and savory), and an eggy garlic roll that Sen ordered every time, but what grabbed Dahlia's attention was the drinks. They specialized in flavored milks, served both hot and cold, and nearly the entire list was tempting: Sweet milk had added sugar syrup; gold milk used a combination of turmeric, ginger, cinnamon, and other spices to offer a unique experience; coffee milk, for those who found Marquesian coffee to be a bit too much in the morning; midnight milk, which was mixed with lavender honey and a touch of purple yam for color; and finally, the item that nearly had her squeak in shock and joy, chocolate milk.

"...They have chocolate?" she whispered, the second she was sure she wasn't about to accidently screech in his ear in her excitement.

"That they do," Sen said, almost with a laugh in his voice as he had clearly noticed her elation. "One chocolate milk and a roll with the same sweet?"

They had bread with chocolate as well?! "Yes please!" Dahlia yelped, and then ducked her head in embarrassment.

The clerk's eyebrows wandered upward as it truly did look as if she was pledging fealty to Sen in exchange for chocolate.

Sen smiled at Dahlia. "Would you like your drink hot or cold?"

"I…don't know?" Dahlia responded, completely unsure. She wasn't aware milk could be served at any temperature beyond chilled.

Sen gave it a bit of thought before he spoke. "It's cold out, so let's use this as a chance to warm ourselves up." He turned to the clerk. "Good lad, can you add a hot chocolate milk with the sweet chip roll to my order, please?" He then blocked his mouth with his free hand and whispered, "And don't mention the costs. I brought enough," in an attempt to avoid Dahlia feeling awkward. Unfortunately for him, she heard every word, but she ignored the comment in an attempt to be polite.

The clerk, however, had obtained the wrong impression. "Is this a date?" he whispered back, a coy smile on his face.

Sen rolled his eyes and continued to whisper, his hand up to block as much of the comment as possible. "It may be something else, but it's not a date."

With a shrug, the clerk turned and walked to the shelves to begin pulling the order, and Sen took the opportunity to take Dahlia to one of the tables in that front room. This time, he was extra careful to be mindful of her blindness, and made sure she was seated comfortably before he sat himself.

Dahlia was clearly flustered by the attention, but Sen knew that was a good thing; any feeling beyond crushing despair was an improvement, and meant she had surfaced from that dark pit that had stolen her voice.

He would know. It was a familiar place.

In just minutes, the food was delivered to the table, with the smells of rich, warm and velvety chocolate mingling with a pungent slap of garlic and crunchy, toasted bread. Such scents were not a pleasant pair, but what they promised individually was truly a tempting offer.

Unfortunately, both scents were impossibly intertwined, and many things had clattered to the table at once with no clear indication of which was hers. Dahlia's hands hesitated at the edge of the table, shivering as she feared she may accidentally knock into the precious chocolate and rob herself of the chance to taste it.

"Uh, would you like me to hand it to you?" Sen asked, a little flustered.

"Oh! Um, I, I could…" Dahlia's hands snapped into fists and she ducked them under the table in embarrassment. Even a child could find food on a table, but her blindness made her inept at such an easy task. She was so useless. "Can you describe where it is? Based on a clock face, preferably. 6 o'clock would be where I'm sitting."

Sen's voice took on a bright and cheery tone. "That I can do! The milk is at about 9 o'clock, and the roll is next to it on the right."

Now with direction, Dahlia gingerly tapped her fingertips across the table until she bumped the mug, and she brushed the side to try and find a handle. To her shock, it wasn't burning hot or uncomfortably cold; it was, in fact, a comfortable warmth quite similar to a friendly hug, and she almost snatched the cup to cradle it close to her chest.

"Thank you so much! It's so warm!" she said with a happy sigh. Now freed from the harsh and sharp scents of buttered and roasted garlic, the chocolate filled her nose with an almost fruity scent, deep and rich like a dark wine. She breathed deeply, then sighed and relaxed before she even realized what she had done.

Sen also breathed a sigh of relief. A smile had grown across her lips. He believed she would be ready to start the interview, or ideally breach the more pressing matter of her possible abuser, but he knew it was safer to test the waters first. "Let me know if you'd like to try mine, but just warning you, the garlic bread will make your breath strong enough to kill a vampire, as they say," he said with a wink.

Dahlia snorted a laugh into her mug and quickly suppressed it. "I-I'd rather have the chocolate," she giggled.

Sen smiled in relief. He hoped he was right and she was ready to talk. "Miss Dahlia, may I ask you about yourself? I'll admit, you're a bit of a curiosity."

Dahlia's face fell to the table, where the steam from the hot chocolate wafted around her nose. "I…can't guarantee I will respond, but you may," she said cautiously.

Sen gave a small nod, his face curious, but his demeanor hesitant. "That's fair. I was just curious if you usually heal without charging anything. Granted, you left in a hurry, but when you helped Vax you didn't ask for anything. You just delivered Durtlen's request. I found that…odd."

Dahlia shrugged, almost as if the answer was obvious. "He had almost lost his sight. He had more to worry about than compensation, and I've learned that if I extend kindness, kindness is extended in return."

"It's a gamble though," Sen added quickly. "A good one, but still a gamble. …And what about your assistant? Have you known him long?"

Dahlia's face turned away, almost as if she could feel his gaze and she wanted to avoid it. "It has…hurt me more than once… But as for Jayce, I've known him for a few months now." Although her voice had gained some confidence when she mentioned her friend's name, Sen clearly heard the threat of a sob begin to choke her. "I've gotten too close and I've caused him trouble. I…think I should leave. It'll be better that way."

It was far too easy for Sen to believe a half-orc racist was an abuser. He almost reached for her hand, but he remembered how she had flinched away before. "Do you want help to do so? I can protect you if you need it. It's been some time, but I was an adventurer myself for years."

Dahlia shook her head. "I can't impose. I'll find my way, or…just disappear. No one would miss me."

Sen nodded with sad understanding. "That's fair. We can do that now, if you'd like."

Dahlia seemed to agree, but immediately winced as she reached to her side. Tears welled up in her eyes as her face twisted in anguish.

"Are you hurt?" Sen nearly yelped, and he nearly launched himself from the table to rush to her side. Thankfully, he exercised restraint, but his hand still hovered over the table, just above his garlic bun. He was worried she had suffered a broken rib or severe bruising at the hands of her so-called companion, but overstepping his bounds may reverse any progress he had made up to that point. The risk was simply too great, so with clear impatience, he stayed his hand.

Dahlia immediately threw her hands up in panic. "No! No, I'm sorry. I, I forgot my bag, that's all," she sputtered through a few tears. "It has my brother's dagger in it. I can't-" She winced again and hardened her resolve. "I won't leave that behind."

Sen slowly settled back into his seat and nodded. "Then I'll collect it. I'll deliver a letter while I'm at it. You never have to deal with him again if you don't want to."

Dahlia tried to respond, but a war of emotions twisted across her expression. Multiple times, she tried to speak, but it took almost all she had just to keep herself from crying. Obviously ashamed, she turned away and attempted to calm herself with practiced breathing, but she made no noticeable progress.

Sen stood from his chair and shifted to kneel by hers. "Dahlia? Would…you like to be held?" he asked, his voice full of concern.

Dahlia recoiled from his voice and gripped herself, the hot chocolate clattering to the floor as the mug splattered its contents in a wide arc. Horrified, Dahlia instinctively reached for a hood, but Sen's coat had none. Instead, she buried her face in her arms and bit her sleeve to suppress a scream of anguish and rage at her own failings.

Sen immediately backpedaled and signaled to the now very worried clerk that they would need help cleaning up. With his hands up and away from her, he spoke in a soft but worried tone. "You're safe here. Take all the time you need." An idea struck him and he nearly smiled in excitement. He turned to the clerk who had retrieved a mop to clean up the spilled milk. "In fact, is Biscuit around?"

The clerk blinked twice and glanced at the strange shelves. "Oh! Yep. Up in his favorite spot, as usual," he replied, and he pointed with the mop handle to indicate the exact location.

Up on a small hammock made of tufted wool, a massive grey and white ragdoll cat lounged and snoozed away, its incredibly fluffy tail hanging over the edge like a streak of slate-grey cloud. Any form the cat may have had was completely lost in the incredible amount of fluff piled into the hammock, which made the two pointed ears especially comical as they stood as the only indication as to the location of Biscuit's head.

Sen politely excused himself from Dahlia's side and yanked over a chair to the floor just under Biscuit's hammock. As soon as he stood on it, he reached up and announced, "C'mere, fluffy!" as he attempted to scoop up the cat.

Thankfully, Biscuit was too groggy to do more than annoyedly protest, and soon Sen's chest and chin were completely hidden behind a surprisingly massive four-pawed ball of fluff with dull blue eyes and a docile demeanor. Barely able to contain his excitement, Sen fought to keep his tone even as he addressed his guest at the table.

"Dahlia, do you like cats?"

Dahlia had been repeatedly apologizing to the clerk, who had been repeatedly reassuring her that no harm was done, and the hot chocolate would be replaced for free. Distracted, she turned toward Sen's voice and cautiously dabbed away tears with her knuckle through her sleeve. "I've…only met one, but I liked that one. She's a familiar, though."

Sen's face broke out into a massive grin as he walked the cat over. "Well, I've got a bit of a big one. Hold out your hands, and I'll lay him in your lap."

Curious but nervous, Dahlia did as he instructed, and Sen gently placed the slightly more than twenty pounds of cat into her lap. True to its breed, Biscuit settled and melted into her lap, draping its long body across her legs as it began to purr.

Sen had to cover his mouth to keep from laughing at Dahlia's face of pure shock and awe, especially when she scrambled to "catch" the cat as Biscuit lounged across her lap. Disbelieving of the creature's size, Dahlia's face was one of pure confusion as she patted, tapped, and petted Biscuit all over to determine the exact dimensions of its form.

Biscuit, to its credit, was incredibly patient and calm through all of that.

"This is all one cat?!" Dahlia gasped in disbelief.

Sen successfully resisted the incredibly tempting urge to laugh. "Yes," he chuckled, "that's all one cat."

"He's huge!" Dahlia nearly shouted. "This has to be the biggest cat on Exandria!"

Biscuit's ears went flat, and the cat's face was obviously caught between exalted and wounded pride at the comment. In response, the clerk redoubled his efforts to clean in an attempt to avoid bursting out laughing himself.

"I think he might just be," Sen wheezed through another suppressed laugh.

Biscuit, deciding instead to just avoid the topic altogether, settled in more deeply and began to flex its paws, kneading the air off to the side as Dahlia continued to stroke its fur. Upon hearing the calming rumble, Dahlia also began to relax, her shoulders finally falling to a natural slope.

Sen was glad the tried and true method of Therapy Biscuit still worked and, after a quick glance to confirm they were beyond a need for assistance, sat down himself. "That's Biscuit Butter Pie IV, king of Whitestone…unofficially," he said with a playful wink.

Dahlia sputtered a short laugh and shifted to scritch Biscuit under the chin. Predictably, Biscuit loved the attention and leaned into her hand, to which Sen smiled knowingly.

"He's also a love bug, so you're stuck now," he said through a chuckle.

Dahlia smiled and sighed. "I think that's fine, for now. I'm…feeling better. Thank you for this," she said.

Sen nodded. "Of course. Kindness in kind, right?"

Dahlia nodded and smiled back.

"Then let's eat our bread, drink our drinks, and not worry about the world out there for now," Sen said brightly as he brandished his own drink. "I'm sure there's plenty about me you can ask about if you want, or we can be completely awkward in silence if that is more your cup of tea. Just to warn you, I'm a master at awkward," he added with a smirk.

Dahlia giggled, and at that point another mug of hot chocolate was delivered to the table. Finally with a chance to relax, she took the mug directly from the clerk and again breathed deeply of the velvety scent. She was briefly shocked to learn that hot chocolate had a small layer of silky foam on top of the drink, but she was undeterred and still sipped the melted chocolate in cream. Thankfully, she managed to suppress her typical reaction to hot tea, as the thicker consistency of the hot chocolate seemed kinder to her quirk. She decided she was better for it, anyway, as sipping the drink would make it last longer than if she was able to consume it like anything more typical of her usual diet.

Dahlia had politely declined all attempts to taste the garlic bun and had successfully nibbled at her own chocolate one in the following minutes, and beyond the offers, Sen was true to his word and sat in silence. Far from being awkward, the two listened to Biscuit purr and enjoyed the quiet company, at least until Dahlia's mind threatened to revive with vengeance and inundate her with guilt and shame. With a pleading tone, she asked Sen to speak, even if just of nonsense, to distract her thoughts from more recent events.

Now more confident of her stability, Sen opened his mouth to speak when the door slammed open. Neither had noticed a limber and graceful woman in purple-splattered blue robes who had spotted them through the front windows, despite the fact that she had nearly punched the glass in her panic at seeing her good friend through the glass.

"Dahlia!"

Zoe nearly tackled Dahlia from her chair, but pulled back at the last second and flailed her arms as she clearly had no idea what to do with them. "Holy shit Dahlia you scared the hell out of us! We thought you were abducted again!" she yelled.

Dahlia winced away as Zoe almost embraced her, but held her ground as her face fell. She mumbled multiple apologies and gripped Biscuit to her chest, which was the only reason why Biscuit hadn't run for the hills.

Sen stood from his seat, confused and guarded. Was this another one of Dahlia's friends? Or was she a well-rehearsed threat? "Excuse me, but who are you?" he said with remarkable restraint.

Zoe looked over, surprised that there was actually someone there as she had completely failed to register his presence once she had spotted Dahlia. "Oh! You must be that drow guy they met today. I'm Zoe," she said, and she held out a hand for a handshake to show she meant no harm. "I'm one of Dahlia's friends and travel companions."

"...A pleasure," Sen said cautiously as he shook her hand. He glanced at Dahlia, and he was relieved to notice she didn't seem threatened. If anything, she looked embarrassed, but her face was hidden, so it was difficult to know for sure.

Now more comfortable with the monk, Sen smiled at Zoe. It would be better to be pleasant anyway, as it was possible Dahlia's abuse was unknown by her other traveling companions. "Apologies if we scared you. I just wished to speak with Miss Dahlia here, and I came by just as she was leaving. It was my suggestion to eat here."

"Better than what we thought happened, that's for sure," Zoe said with a breath of relief. She turned to her friend, who was still almost hidden behind the massive fluff of Biscuit. "Dahlia, are you okay? They got…really loud, when you disappeared."

Dahlia's face twisted into anguish as she faced Zoe. "I-I'm so sorry! It was all my fault, and-!"

"Whoa whoa whoa!" Zoe yelled, more to shock Dahlia into silence than to convey heightened emotion. "Hold the fuck up! Those two being idiots has nothing to do with you!"

"But they were fighting over me!" Dahlia wailed.

"Note my previous comment about those two being idiots," Zoe said, embarrassed on her brother's behalf.

Sen's demeanor soured immediately. "I'm guessing one of them is the one with anger issues?"

Zoe slapped a hand on her face and dragged it down. "Oh yeah. And the other is my brother," she grumbled.

The silence between them grew heavy for a moment as Sen tried to size up both Zoe and the current situation. He knew very little about her, but she reminded him of another Cobalt Soul monk he had met a long time ago, in a past that was painful to remember, but still precious to him.

He sighed. "Zoe, can you do me a favor?"

Zoe gave him a side-eye and crossed her arms. "Depends," she said slowly.

Sen motioned to the door. "Could you wait outside for a moment? Technically, we were having an interview, and I would like to respect Miss Dahlia's privacy while we conclude it."

Zoe visibly loosened her grip on her arms as she looked confused. "An…interview?" she asked.

Sen nodded gravely. "Yes. After all, the residuum would be used for her case, and I have to ensure what little we have is allotted appropriately, as cruel as that sounds for a case like this."

Zoe, well aware of how Dahlia had a knack for winning people over, brightened considerably. "Oh! Yeah, sure! I'll be right outside," she said with a smile, and then flashed Dahlia an unseen thumbs-up. "Knock'im dead, Dahlia!"

Dahlia gulped and forced a smile.

Sen offered a short bow of his head. "Thank you, miss," he said kindly.

With that said, Zoe dashed outside, grabbed the doorframe to swing herself through a tight turn, and produced a childish grin as she waited on the other side of the glass. Sen cleared his throat awkwardly as it was clear Zoe was going to closely watch him the entire time, and he turned to his guest so his back was to the window.

"Miss Dahlia, do you trust her?"

Dahlia was silent for an uncomfortable moment as she thought the question through. "As much as I can, for someone who has only known her for a month and change," she finally answered.

Sen nodded to himself and briefly peeked over his shoulder. "Do you want her involved with getting you out?"

Dahlia hugged herself as Biscuit hopped to the ground. "No. I'm a burden to them all. They'd be better off without me."

"Then I'll keep it to myself," Sen said gently. "Are you wanting to go now?"

Dahlia took on a look of someone tortured, her face showing a plethora of uncomfortable emotions as her grip on her arms visibly twisted her sleeves. Without warning, her head snapped up and she blurted out, "I'm not cursed!"

Sen nearly recoiled from the sudden outburst, but did not recover in time to speak before Dahlia continued.

"I'm- I'm not- I'm not cursed!" she wailed, once again fighting tears. Her emotions were so raw. "I'm soulsick! I'm so sorry! I wasted everyone's time and they deserve so much better than anything I can give!"

Sen felt the hair on the back of his neck stand on end, almost as if Zoe's glare of warning was physically affecting him. On the verge of being desperate, he hoped hearing her name would be enough to interrupt her. "Dahlia, can you do me a favor?"

Thankfully, his words reached her. "Anything," she whimpered.

Sen stepped in front of her and kneeled down, rolling up his sleeves as he did so. Gently, he scooped up her hand and paused briefly when she flinched, but then he placed her palm over his exposed wrist.

"What do you feel?" he whispered.

At first, Dahlia was confused, but her practiced sense of touch quickly picked up faded, raised scars on the inside of Sen's wrist. She took his hand in her own and carefully twisted his arm so she could trace the length and breadth of them with her fingertips. They followed diagonals across the arm, rather than straight across or along its length, indicating the method used was a long, unwieldy blade.

"The scars are even, but contain overlapping hesitation marks. Hallmark sign of self-infliction. Your technique was well informed but poorly executed, which helped increase your chances for survival," she said methodically, her voice cold and professional. Then she lifted her head just slightly to face Sen more appropriately. "You've…done it too," she gasped.

Sen nodded, tears welling in his eyes at the memory. "I lost my husband and then my brother within a month of each other. I couldn't breathe. I couldn't… My niece is why I'm alive. I've been there, and I almost didn't make it, but I did. You can beat this, Dahlia. I'm living proof."

Dahlia dropped her hands into her empty lap, her face the picture of defeat. "It's so hard, and I'm so tired…" she sighed, her voice tense and shuddering.

Sen twisted his hand around hers to clasp it in what he hoped was a calming way. She still flinched, but she didn't resist.

"I know," he said softly. "Are you okay to meet me tomorrow?"

Dahlia tried to face him as much as she could, despite only having the sound of his voice to go on. "Please don't give us any of the residuum. I'm not cursed. It won't help anything."

"I won't, but I do think we should talk again," Sen said, his voice serious but gentle. However, he then smirked and stood. "After all, I forgot my coat," he added with a shrug.

Dahlia immediately pulled her hands back and gasped in shock. "Oh! Pelor's light, I'm so sorry!"

"See you tomorrow!" Sen called as he turned and practically jogged to the door, despite Dahlia calling after him to wait after yanking off the heavy coat. As soon as he was outside, he turned to Zoe and spoke quickly, as Dahlia was rapidly gaining on him.

"Thank you for the privacy, miss. I would like to speak to her again tomorrow. Could you bring her by?" he asked Zoe.

Zoe did a double take between Sen and Dahlia, the latter of whom was trying to avoid chairs as she rushed through the cafe. "What the heck happened in there?!"

"Just confirming some things," Sen chuckled. "I'll share more if she gives me permission. See ya!"

Sen jogged away, waving over his shoulder as he disappeared around a corner. The second he was out of view, Dahlia made it to the door and called out for him.

"Don't bother, Dahlia. He's gone," Zoe huffed. "Weird guy."

"And he intentionally left his coat with me," Dahlia sighed, exhausted. "I guess we'll have to visit tomorrow, just to return it."

"I think that was his intention," Zoe giggled. "So what was all that? An interview? He took a fucking knee and held your hands! That sounds more like a proposal!"

Upon learning what Zoe had seen, Dahlia went beet red in the face and flailed her hands about to somehow wave away the wrong impression, as if it was a physical thing. "Oh gods! No! It really was an interview! I wasn't doing well, so he tried to comfort me! That's all it was!"

Zoe grimaced and one-handedly popped her knuckles as she glanced back into the cafe. What she was going to say wasn't something she could do while looking Dahlia in the eye, even if the healer literally could not return her gaze. "And yet you won't even let Jon hold your hands," she grumbled.

Dahlia felt so incredibly drained, both physically and emotionally, but she had to power through. Even though Zoe was Jonathan's brother, she was still willing to listen and follow requests, even at the cost of her own curiosity. Dahlia owed her at least some explanation, despite how desperately she wanted to crawl into bed and sleep.

"Sir Sen allowed me to be in control of the 'hand holding', and honestly it wasn't holding hands; it was a physical assessment of his wrists and forearms. He wanted to show me how he could relate to my…episodes, for lack of a better term." Dahlia, out of habit, pressed the heel of her hand to the bridge of her nose, and once she remembered that she lacked both greasepaint and blindfold, she rubbed some of the frustration off her face. "Jonathan snaps my hands up like…like a striking snake, so fast and without warning that it physically hurts. It scares me, and I don't mean to lash out, but I often react without thinking in those moments. I'm very sorry."

Dahlia then bowed her head to Zoe, almost as if she was Jonathan herself, and Zoe felt her resolve weaken at the sight. Considering what Zoe knew about Dahlia's fear of physical contact, it made perfect sense, even if the fear itself was irrational.

"I'm sorry too," Zoe sighed. She rolled her neck and rubbed the back of it awkwardly. "I should have figured there was a reason. Jon just isn't used to seeing things from a different perspective, that's all. I know that's not a damn good excuse by any stretch, but maybe it'll help."

"Zoe, I'm sorry, but I really just want to sleep," Dahlia groaned. "I don't even know where we are. I wasn't paying attention when I was led here. Ugh! And we need to find the others so they don't panic!"

Zoe almost patted her on the shoulder but thought better of it at the last second. "Hey, let me worry about that part. I'll get you to the inn and, I dunno, you can take a nap or something before everyone gets back. Believe it or not, Jayce is actually still at the inn, instead of looking for you."

Dahlia's face fell. "I guess I was just being used."

"No! No, that's not it at all," Zoe yelped. "He was knocked unconscious by Gauth when he lost it. Nobody could tell if he was going to be okay or not, so we chucked him in a room and Al ran off to find either you or a healer, and the rest of us ran off to find you specifically. We were going to regroup in…about a half hour at this point? Dammit, where's that freaking clock? I thought you could see it all over the city-!"

"Wait, Gauth knocked out Jayce? How?" Dahlia asked, a tinge of panic in her voice.

"Backhanded him so hard across the face that he dropped like a sack of potatoes," Zoe said. Although she was, in fact, worried for the half-orc, she was also quite impressed with the power Gauth had thrown into that slap.

Dahlia, on the other hand, took on a face of pure panic. "We need to get back to the inn now!"

"Uh, why? He's just unconscious," Zoe said, confused.

"Because you never strike someone in the head unless you're intending to kill them!" Dahlia yelled, her hand already gripping Zoe's arm just above the elbow. "If he's suffered a major concussion, the swelling in his brain could become severe enough to be fatal! Please, take me back immediately!"

Zoe didn't need to be told twice. After witnessing the raw power of Gauth in battle, it was no far stretch to believe Jayce was potentially in danger of a deadly invisible wound. With Dahlia holding onto her arm, Zoe sped through Whitestone, racing toward the Snowdrop Requiem with all the speed she could afford.

xXxXx

Everything felt heavy. Jayce's limbs were numb and sluggish, feeling more like they were made of lead than flesh and bone. As he slowly came to consciousness, he was aware of a growing ache in his face, one that quickly crossed the threshold to throbbing pain. Groaning, he tried to place a hand on the injury, to assess it himself and see if it was anything to worry about, but unsurprisingly his arm refused to comply.

"Hey, he's waking up!"

Jayce tried to open his eyes to match the voice to a face, but to his surprise, only one eye opened. His left eye throbbed as he tried, but his right did open and focus just enough to recognize Zoe hovering above him. For some reason, she carried a scent of sour wine strong enough to irritate his nose.

"Zoe…?" he mumbled.

Zoe, a large smirk plastered across her face, waved as she leaned over him. "Morning, sunshine. Evening, actually, but hey, congrats, you got a nap in."

"Fuck you…" Jayce wheezed. "Why can't I open my eye?"

"It's swollen shut," Dahlia said from across the room.

Jayce nearly bolted up in the bed when he heard her voice, but Zoe was well prepared for such a reaction. Her arm easily landed across his chest as she leaned all of her weight on him and pinned him down.

"Whoa there, boss. No getting up until the doc says so," Zoe grinned.

"Not. Yer. Boss," Jayce hissed as he resigned himself to his fate.

"Thankfully," Dahlia continued, "My assessment didn't reveal any major fractures in your cranium or facial structure, so once we treat the swelling and confirm you have only a minor concussion, everything should be fine."

Finally, Dahlia stepped into view. In her hand was a familiar tin that smelled faintly of mint, and she began delicately applying an oily salve to Jayce's face. Immediately, his skin began to feel cold, but the pain also began to fade.

"Zoe, can you tell me the time?"

Jayce heard Zoe head over to the window, but as soon as she was beyond his arm's reach, his vision went so blurry he couldn't focus on anything except the vague color of her person. For some reason, today it was purple.

"Uh, looks like it's…four thirty-seven," Zoe replied.

Dahlia nodded and dug through her bag for something else. "And when was Jayce struck?"

The purple blurry blob by the brighter patch of wall shifted upward slightly, likely a shrug. "Not sure. Can't have been too long, though. I was only running for a few minutes when I spotted you."

Dahlia nodded to herself and pulled out a small, dark brown glass bottle with a black rubber stopper. Once she popped it open, she gave it a sniff and nodded again. "Good. Then it's likely he was only unconscious for a handful of minutes."

Jayce snickered to himself as that reminded him of Dahlia's pun.

Dahlia noticed and poked him with her free hand as an amused smile that she tried to hide, unsuccessfully, snuck across her face. "Anyway, that means it's probably a moderate concussion." She turned to Jayce. "You should be able to recover from this without major intervention, but I don't want you doing anything strenuous for at least a full day. You will tell me the moment you feel pain, dizziness, or nausea, even if anything feels 'off' or 'strange'. Anything out of the ordinary, you will speak to me about it. Do you understand me?"

"Yes ma'm!" Jayce whimpered.

Zoe suppressed a giggle and returned to the side of the bed. "So, gotta say, purple's a nice color on you, boss."

Jayce rolled his one eye and finally managed to raise a hand to his face. The skin of his own hand felt cold against the unhurt side of his head, and he left his hand there more for the pleasant feeling than a way to deal with his frustration.

"Not yer boss, Zoe…" he grumbled. "And purple ain't bad on you, either."

"Eh, more a fan of red-"

"Actually, speaking of, Jayce, how is your vision right now?" Dahlia asked. She held a hand generally over his head with several fingers extended. "Can you tell me how many fingers I'm holding up?"

Jayce glanced up at her hand and easily counted four fingers. "Four, but I gotta admit, can't see anythin' past the foot of the bed."

Dahlia breathed a sigh of relief. "That's not ideal, but it's better than the alternative. If you had completely lost your vision, it would be more likely that you would need immediate magical intervention."

"Why not cast a spell now?" Jayce asked. Oh his head was pounding. "I'm in a fuck-ton of pain."

"Right. Tongue on the roof of your mouth, please."

Confused, Jayce did as he was told, and Dahlia used a small glass stick to deposit three very bitter drops under his tongue. He winced, but by the time Dahlia had put the bottle away, he had begun to feel lighter and more normal.

"Wow. That's some damn good stuff," Jayce said in awe. "What is it?"

"Laudanum," Dahlia said simply. "It can be habit forming, so I will keep this on my person at all times. Let me know when your pain returns, and providing enough time has passed, I'll give you another dose."

"Right…" Jayce felt the weight of the world begin to lift off his shoulders. It was wonderful feeling so light. "So, Zoe, why the fuck you purple?"

Zoe sat on the foot of the bed hard enough to make Jayce bounce a bit, and he didn't even care. "Well, how much do you remember?" she asked.

"Uh…" He thought back as far as he could. "I remember…uh, losin' my temper at Jon…?"

Zoe huffed, unsurprised by his lack of memory. "Well, it started when you burst into fucking flame and lunged at my brother, who got clocked across the face pretty hard. As soon as he stumbled back, Al and Gauth practically tossed the table to intercept, and I got between you and Jon. Despite all this, you two were still yelling bloody murder at each other, each one of you accusing the other of being a vile snake who didn't deserve anything good. I mean, the words you guys used were much more colorful, and if I wasn't trying to keep you from braining my brother, I would've been taking notes."

"That don't explain why you're pur-rrr-ple…" Jayce giggled. Rolling his Rs was fun.

Zoe suppressed a giggle of her own. "You are out of it, man."

"That would be the laudanum," Dahlia said coldly.

Zoe shrugged. "Anyway, you were on fucking fire, and based on what Al and Gauth were yelling, fucking cold as shit, too. They had to drop you or lose feeling in their hands, and it was at that point that Jon noticed Dahlia was missing.

"You immediately blamed him for it, and when you lunged at him again, Gauth grabbed the back of your armor and yanked you off balance. Unfortunately, his grip wasn't good enough to actually yank you back, so instead you slammed into a barmaid delivering wine. Nailed me good with that one."

"That explains why yer wine-y," Jayce beamed.

"You fucking asshole," Zoe giggled. "Can't even use half your face and you're cracking jokes."

"How'd that happen, anyway?" Jayce asked.

"Well, after I got splattered with cheap wine and you two went at it again, Gauth spun you around, oh and by the way, you were still on fire, and then backhanded you across the face hard enough to drop you to the floor," Zoe responded. She shrugged and crossed her arms. "Once you were down, Jon nearly tore out of the tavern to look for Dahlia, but I slapped him first. Not hard enough to knock him out, but enough to knock some sense into him. He finally stopped long enough to actually listen. I told him he was being a fucking moron, probably scared her off in the first place, and to get his shit together if he was going to find Dahlia. Then we all ran off, although Al yelled something about finding a healer first. Oh, and Gauth chucked you upstairs in one of the rooms."

"That all happened…?" Jayce mumbled. He managed to raise a hand enough to drop it on his face, but he got distracted when he realized he was wiggling his fingers. He giggled again. They looked like floppy green sausages.

"Uh, Dahlia? He's…more than a little loopy, right now," Zoe said, concerned for Jayce.

Dahlia shrugged and stepped away from the bed. "Like I said, it's the laudanum. There's a reason magical assistance is preferred in medical assessments; they rarely carry side effects, and are not habit forming."

"Why no magic though…?" Jayce mumbled, turning a pouting face toward her. "I hurt."

"Because I'm exhausted!" Dahlia snapped. "I'm angry, I'm embarrassed, I'm so very, incredibly tired. And you! You…! Ugh! Now that my head is clear, what you two said was awful! On top of that, getting into a fight over a woman?! How old are you?! Twelve?!"

Zoe subtly pumped her fist with a look of smug pride at Dahlia's words, silently encouraging her to continue her tirade. However, Dahlia immediately ran out of steam and clutched herself instead.

"And I clearly don't deserve any love. Everyone was arguing, and instead of helping, I ran-!"

"Hold a fucking minute!" Zoe yelped. Dahlia, startled, recoiled from her, but said nothing, so Zoe continued. "None of that was on you. Holy fuck, where did that come from?!"

Dahlia pressed her fingertips into her eyes, but whether it was to sop up forming tears or to express frustration was nearly impossible to tell. "Just…! I don't want to do this right now!"

"Okay, fair," Zoe said quietly. "Still, Jayce, long story short is you aren't getting any healing magic until at least the morning. Got it?"

"Got it…" Jayce whined. Not that it really mattered at the moment, anyway. He felt great.

"And don't you have something to say to Dahlia?" Zoe asked, her eyebrow cocked as she pointedly made eye contact with Jayce.

Based on the blank look he gave them, Zoe figured he didn't actually understand the question. With a sigh, she shifted to look directly at Jayce so she would be sure she had his full attention.

"Do you, or do you not, treat Dahlia like a damsel in distress for your own amusement?"

"What the fuck?! No!" Jayce yelped. Adrenaline surged through his system as he tried both not to panic or lash out at the monk in front of him. Somehow, his mind felt more clear than it had in quite some time, and a wave of vertigo was completely ignored as he half sat up to look Zoe in the eye. "I help her because I'm her friend, you got that?! Granted, I like how she treats me like a fuckin' living being and not some piece of trash, but that ain't the only reason I keep her around! She's kind, funny, damn fuckin' smart, and clearly I ain't that good at takin' care of myself! Look at me! I need her to treat me like the gods-damn damsel!"

Zoe stared at Jayce in utter shock as Dahlia ducked her head into her hands to avoid laughing out loud at the image of Jayce in a floofy princess dress.

"I ain't keepin' her around to feel like a hero," Jayce said to emphasize his point. "I'm stickin' around her to fuckin' stay alive!"

"Well, I can't really argue there," Zoe giggled. "I mean, half your face is pretty purple right now."

"No shit," Jayce wheezed. He was somewhat dizzy from the exertion, so he just laid his head back down and did his best to relax. Thankfully, the laudanum was still working fine, so he wasn't in any pain.

"That good for you?" Zoe asked. Jayce glanced at her in confusion for a moment before he realized she was talking to Dahlia.

Dahlia nodded. "Yes. I still need to hear Jonathan's side of things, but I'm glad that's been cleared up. Thank you."

"Anytime," Zoe said with a smile. "Anyway, you good? I'm going to run out and find the others."

Dahlia nodded. "I'm fine. I have to stay with Jayce regardless, until I can heal him. If he slips back into unconsciousness, things could complicate very quickly."

"Note to self, stay awake," Jayce mumbled.

Zoe nodded. "Fair. Okay, stay in the room, and I'll be right back," she said, motioning toward the floor as if Dahlia could see, right before she dashed out of the room with incredible speed. Dahlia, silent, wandered over to the window and leaned against it, her forehead pressed to the glass.

Jayce rolled over to his left, which thankfully was not the bruised side of his face thanks to Gauth's right-handed black-out slap, and slowly pushed himself up enough to half-sit on the bed. The world swam for a moment, and a wave of giddiness washed over him that he barely fought through to stay lucid. Dizzy, he looked over at Dahlia, still at the window.

"Are you…okay, Dahlia?" he meekly asked.

Dahlia sighed and sniffled. "No, I'm not. I caused a lot of trouble just by being…here, among you all, and I've been trying to decide if I should leave. On one hand, my mind is screaming to run away from you all, but my heart feels like it will burst if I try. I've become so fond of you all, and…and even if staying destroys me, I don't know if I could leave you."

Jayce struggled to listen, his mind wandering as any little thing seemed to grab at his attention with fervor, so he clung to the panic of Dahlia leaving his company to ground him.

"Dahlia, please don't go," Jayce said, far too distracted to use his accent. "Please, stay with us. Stay with me."

Dahlia flinched and turned slowly, her ear leaned toward Jayce. "Who…?"

It was then that Jayce realized his mistake. Cursing himself, his heart pounding in panic and his face throbbing in time with his heartbeat, he decided to charge forward with his accidental decision. "This is me, Dahlia. Jayce. My real voice. This is what I really sound like."

"Y-you sound…" Dahlia whimpered, her arms clutched around her. "You sound so different."

She looked afraid.

"Dahlia, I haven't changed. I want you to see- fuck, hear who I am. Who I really am. I won't hide from you anymore."

Perhaps he shouldn't have been surprised, but Dahlia seemed to relax when he swore at his own mistake. Calm and convinced, Dahlia turned to him with a weak and teary smile.

"Thank you, Jayce, for trusting me like this. I don't deserve it, but thank you," she whispered.

"But you do deserve it," Jayce said quickly. "You deserve…far more than I've been able to give." He winced. His head felt so foggy, but he was terrified if he stopped now, she would truly disappear. For good.

"Why?"

It was spoken so softly, so weakly, that Jayce almost wondered if he had heard wrong. Would it be better to assume, and continue speaking? Or ignore what may have been a hallucination?

Jayce rubbed his face and almost flinched when he realized half his face was greasy. Why was that? He felt as if everything was trying to distract him.

"Because you deserve it. There's no other reason. You deserve the truth from me."

He knew that sounded like rubbish. Where were the words?! Why didn't he have the words?! Thousands of books, hundreds of authors, but now, when he needed them, nothing came to mind!

Dahlia winced, tense and frustrated. "I don't understand. I told you that you were allowed to keep your secrets, and yet you're showing me a part of you that you won't even show anyone else. You're being reckless. You're addled by the laudanum." She shook her head and faced him. "You barely know me. You have no reason to trust me."

"But I do know you."

Dahlia's head tilted, a curious but cautious expression across her features. Again, the world assaulted Jayce's senses. A bird chirping outside caught his attention and nearly wrested it from Dahlia, and in his haste he spoke plainly, without forethought, before what words remained slipped away from him.

"And…I love you."

Dahlia's expression snapped into one of shock, her eyes wide even though they drifted right past him. "You…what?"

"I love you," Jayce said again, careful to enunciate in case the laudanum was numbing his tongue. "Jon was right. I…love you."

"You…! No! No, you don't!" Dahlia yelled, her hands over her face. "You can't! Please, don't say that!"

Jayce swallowed hard, anxiety forcing his heart to pound in his chest. That wasn't the reaction he was expecting.

Even though he could barely move without the world shifting in strange ways, he still reached for her. "Dahlia, what's wrong?"

As if she knew exactly where his hand was, she snatched his wrist, pulled up the edge of her blouse, and shoved his hand flat against her stomach. "This is what love did to me!" she wailed.

Jayce had to fight to understand his senses. Of course, her glamor made her skin look flawless and smooth, but under his fingers he could feel the raised edge of a thick scar. Another scar. Her grip guided his hand, allowing him to feel the length of the jagged lesion from the base of her ribs to nearly her hip. Despite his horror, his mind was briefly distracted by the sudden realization that his hand was under her blouse, and she had wanted it there.

"What happened to you?" he breathed.

"I dared to love. I dared to believe a man who said he loved me. This is my reward for my idiocy," Dahlia hissed, her face screwed up in pain brought on by vivid memory. "You say you love me, but you don't know me. Please, you and Jonathan both, feel this love to the extent of your ability, and then please, I beg you, let it go."

The parallel was hard to ignore. His own nightmare of consuming her, still haunting his memory, came back in full force and nearly blinded him. She was no stranger to monsters in human guise, and she had survived so far…but what if he was the one to destroy her? What if his dark power, his demon, his demented desire while in the thrall of its power, was her final end?

"I…am so sorry, Dahlia," Jayce said quietly. He pulled his hand away from her stomach, but he took the opportunity to draw her in for an awkward, but heartfelt hug, his head resting on the base of her sternum. "I'll try to let it go. Just, please, stay my friend. Stay with me. I promise I will never cross any line you lay, and I will keep my distance when I can. I just really don't think I can survive without you."

Dahlia paused for a moment, her hands hovering above him as if she couldn't decide if she should shove him away, or return the affection. Finally deciding on the latter, she wrapped her arms around him and cradled his head against her chest.

"I can do that much," she whispered. "Only for you."

xXxXx

Al was honestly impressed with Zoe. Somehow, the young woman had raced through Whitestone, down almost random streets, and collected every errant member of the Ceylon Seven with relative ease. Barely winded and with a spatial memory that would be the boon of any dungeon diver, she spread the good news of Dahlia's return with the level of excitement Al would normally expect from a child.

Then again, as a human, twenty years old was still practically a child, especially when compared to almost any other race on Exandria.

The decent ones, anway.

Al was one of the last to return, only because his search for a healer had sent him farther than he had intended to travel through the streets of Whitestone. With Dahlia's return, that was no longer necessary, and despite his attempts to keep up, Zoe quickly left him in the dust.

And that was how Al barely got any dinner before going to bed. Gauth, his stomach truly bottomless, had been snitching at Al's plate while everyone else got caught up at the table for dinner. Jayce, of course, didn't join them, but Al couldn't blame him; if Gauth had hit the man any harder, Al was pretty sure Jayce's neck would have snapped.

Good thing it was a backswing. Those tend to be weaker, even if only marginally.

Again, the group had ordered three rooms, and were once again split into the groups of Al and Gauth, the siblings plus Bera, and doctor and patient. Dahlia had still been in a state when he had finally sat down to eat, so she left the table early. However, when Al asked about what had happened, Zoe revealed Dahlia had been intercepted and interviewed by a dark elf in a small cafe called "Kitty Biscuits".

"And how'd the interview go?" Jonathan asked, his own plate long since clear. Puffpaw was making quite sure of that with repeated scratching licks while on the hunt for errant steak sauce.

Zoe shrugged. "Not really sure, honestly. Dahlia seemed really upset, so he actually took a knee and held her hand-"

"Aw, they'd be such a cute couple," Al huffed. He deftly avoided everyone's gaze by taking a heavy swig of beer. "She say yes?" he burped.

To his surprise, Zoe giggled. "Actually, kinda. I thought the same thing, but when I asked her, she completely freaked out. She was supposed to do some sort of assessment of his wrists, or something. Anyway, they continued to talk, she squeaked and jumped, couldn't quite catch it through the glass, and he said something with a smile and just books it without his coat. Then he tells me to make sure she stops by in the morning at the Academy."

"Why's the coat important?" Al asked around a mouthful of potatoes.

"Because he had offered it to her when she ran off without her own," Bera cut in. To give her hands something to do, she was cleaning her chanter with a long, felt-wrapped rod. "She was still wearing it when I got back, but she switched back to her own once I pointed it out."

"And, man, Jayce was out of it earlier," Zoe giggled again. "He didn't even notice her different coat the whole time! I mean, it practically looks like a noble's coat, and the one we bought Dahlia wasn't nearly that fancy."

She had a hard time suppressing her laughter as the rest of the table chuckled along. Sitting up straight and pretending to press down her own mirth to the floor, Zoe calmed herself with ease and continued talking. "Anyway, long story short, Jayce's fine, some sort of concussion, and Dahlia's too tired for magic, so he's probably gonna be purple in the face when we get up in the morning."

"Serves him right," Jonathan grumbled, his hand stroking his own jaw where he was struck. Strangely enough, the bruise felt rather cold instead of warm.

"Oh don't you get cute," Bera snapped, her expression scolding. "You provoked that fight without a second thought. I would bet gold to gippies you had that rehearsed."

Al glanced over at Gauth, and as he had expected, the goliath was quite amused by all of this. Somehow, Bera had integrated herself into the group as the camp mother over the last full day and no one seemed upset or opposed to the idea. Despite being literally the smallest person in the group, of course. Gauth always thought it was funny when traditional power structures were turned on its head, even if he didn't know the words to explain that much.

Jonathan huffed and crossed his arms. "Regardless of any prep work, it doesn't change the fact that what I said was true. He's manipulating her, and I won't stand for it. He's taking advantage of her blindness to make her dependent on him."

Zoe sighed and leaned her elbows on the table to support her head, which had apparently grown heavy with frustration. "Jon, knock it off. One, stop being so fucking jealous, and two, I talked to her about it, okay? She doesn't like you touching her because she says it comes out of nowhere and happens so suddenly it literally hurts. Jayce always starts with a question or a tap, so she knows it's coming and she can prepare. Stop being a dick."

Thoroughly cowed by his sister, Jonathan turned deep red and coughed awkwardly into his fist. Al and Gauth couldn't help but snicker a bit at his expense, and Gauth even nudged Al in his side with his elbow.

"All children and sweets, eh?" Gauth chuckled.

Al rolled his eyes and turned back to his beer. "Don't get me started."

As his beer came to rest on the tabletop, Al turned back to Gauth with a curious look. "Hey, so Jayce mentioned that whole demon thing, remember?"

This time Gauth rolled his eyes. "That was barely a moment ago. I do remember."

Al swirled his beer in his mug and watched what remained of the foam swirl in the liquid. "Think…we could take out all of Jayce's problems if we took out the demon?"

Gauth slowly twisted in his seat and leaned on the table to look Al in the eye. There was a moment of silence between them as Gauth cocked an eyebrow as Al started to slightly squirm. "I…do not think I understand. You want to help someone? With no money first?"

"Oh come on! Don't make me say it!" Al whined, his head dropped into his hand.

Gauth leaned down enough to be eye-level with Al and squinted a burrowing glare directly into his friend's eyes. "Say it. Remember, I do not know Tal'Dorein well, so speak with small words."

"You are gods-damned terrifying, you know that?!" Al hissed into both of his hands, as his embarrassment was intense enough to force his face to blush. "Fine! I want to sleep with Jayce, but he's got that temper problem, he's fucking short, and he's a fucking half-orc. Clearly, the demon's in charge of the temper problem, but do you think the rest might change if we cure him? De-possess him? Whatever the fuck we have to do. Ugh."

Al grabbed his mug and drained it in a single gulp as Gauth's intense glare had turned to a look of confusion.

Gauth rolled Al's questions through his mind with the same effort one might use to roll a square boulder through a muddy field. After he had finally realized what he heard was not a translation error, but indeed an actual question from his friend, he pinched the bridge of his nose and sighed in annoyance.

"Al, sex makes you stupid," Gauth grunted. "Jayce will not sleep with you, and you can't change him. Not even saving him from a demon will save him. Try Jonathan. Zoe told me he likes you."

"Hold the fuck up what?!" Al sputtered. He glanced across the table where Jonathan was in the middle of a verbal sparring match with Bera, and handily losing while Zoe crossed her arms and watched them with a smug look on her face. As soon as he confirmed the other three were sufficiently distracted, he turned back to Gauth and dropped his voice. "What the fuck are you talking about?!"

Gauth shrugged and sat up in his seat. "Zoe said Jonathan likes you, and she wanted to know if you liked men as well. She didn't want her brother to…some phrase that means to lose?"

Al, shocked to silence, slumped back in his seat and watched Jonathan across the table. But the man had been so vocal in his apparent affections for Dahlia. Was Gauth pulling his leg again?

As Jonathan, completely flustered and red in the face, gestured frantically as Zoe burst out laughing at his expense and Bera had the self-satisfied smile of the victor, Al watched him almost come into focus, as if seen through a clearer lens. It all made sense. Jonathan was so fervent in his chase of Dahlia because he was hiding his true self from the others. Dahlia was his excuse, his disguise that made him seem more acceptable. More normal. He was quite familiar with that sort of disguise, after all. He had used it once before.

Assuming what Gauth had told him was true, of course. Still, it seemed an avenue worth exploring.

It seemed less of a dead end than chasing Jayce, anyway. And Jonathan had the added bonus of being some color other than green.

xXxXx

Many drinks later, Jonathan finally conceded the verbal battle and whined his lament into the table while Zoe mercilessly, but jokingly, teased him. Bera, that smug victor's grin still plastered across her face, twiddled tunelessly along her lyre as she watched the siblings ruminate on the untimely demise of Jonathan's pride.

Thankfully, it was this levity that followed them to their rooms upstairs. Not even the innkeeper's sour look could dampen their spirits, although Bera truly did feel sorry for the damage Jayce and Jonathan's spat had caused to the tables earlier. Even so, as the room spun around many of them as they laid down in their beds, there was a sense of safety and warmth that finally lulled them to sleep.

One that was rudely interrupted some short time after midnight.

Al shot up in his bed, a dagger pulled from under his pillow as Zoe's voice echoed through the wall. A scream of alarm that included expletives of some kind.

Was she in danger? What happened?

"Everyone, please! The danger has passed!" A strange voice called through the walls. Al grumbled and rubbed at his face, the pommel of his dagger deliciously cool against his forehead. As usual, he had drunk too much with dinner, and he was still in the throes of a hangover.

"Ugh," he mumbled. His head was pounding and the room was starting to spin. "Gauth, you up?"

The giantkin groaned and grabbed the pillow of his human-sized bed to smother his own face. "Is the sun up?" he grunted through the fabric and stuffing.

Al glanced at the window. It was still quite dark out, but the angle was not preferable to see the moon. "Unfortunately, no. Wild guess, probably a prowling hour."

Gauth sighed and rolled over, the pillow moved to cover his ear as he shoved his head into the mattress. "I will sleep now-"

Thak-thak-thak!

"Al! Gauth!" Jonathan's voice was surprisingly bright through the door. "Get up! We've got a job! Let's go!"

Al felt as if the pounding was literally striking his skull and he lashed out, flinging the dagger directly at the door with all the force he could give. In his weakened state, the dagger failed to complete its rotation and slapped the door on its side, clattering to the floor uselessly.

"Leave us the fuck alone!" Al yelled. "I'm fucking hungover and I want to sleep!"

"It's a job from the de Rolos! The ruling family of Whitestone! Get out here!" Jonathan, undeterred, responded.

"Fine!" Al barked. He rubbed his head to help mitigate the pain, but he had no idea if it actually helped. "Fine. We'll be out in a bit."

He grabbed his own pillow and chucked it at Gauth, who didn't even twitch. "Come on, get up. We have work to do."

"Why…?" Gauth whined, the word drawn out in a childish why. "I am after-drunk-"

"Hungover, doofus," Al grumbled.

"Hungover. I do not fight well when I'm hungover," Gauth continued.

"It's paid work from the ruling family of Whitestone. No idea why they want us, of all people, but apparently it's a fast-track to some favors in town," Al huffed. He pulled off his tunic and started fastening his armor on top of his undershirt. "Come on, get up."

Gauth continued to gripe and groan through the pillow, but by the time Al finished donning his armor, weapons, and gear, Gauth was upright enough to pull on his boots and grab his axe. The two of them paused, glanced at each other, and then wordlessly packed up their additional gear and bags as well. After all, the innkeeper had been quite upset with them over Jayce and Jonathan's little spat, especially when Gauth's attempts to get between them ended up in a broken table. That meant there was no guarantee the room would still be theirs when they returned, so it was better to act as if they were leaving then, rather than later.

"We should tell the others," Gauth mumbled as he shouldered his bag.

"Hm?" Al was flexing his feet and testing the supple leather of his boots a final time before they left. Such a task required most of his attention, so Gauth's quiet comment had slipped by him.

"We should tell the others," Gauth said more loudly, looking at Al. "Maybe the rooms will be gone when we return."

Al shrugged and stretched his arms. "Why bother? It was their fault for getting into a fight; we're only guilty by association."

Gauth had to pause a second to allow his foggy mind the time it needed to remember what "association" meant, and that it didn't have anything to do with asses. He shook his head and rubbed another layer of sleep away from his eyes. "But the women were not fighting. They were helping. And the fight scared Dahlia away."

"And why should I care?!" Al snapped. "I'm not her damn keeper! Jayce is! If he can't keep a handle on her fucking…moods, then why are we dragging around a healer who can't even-!"

Gauth, mitigating his strength as much as he was able, slapped Al across the face and then grabbed him by the front of his shirt while he was still in shock from the strike. "She. Is. Cursed! Why do you still blame her for that?!"

Al sputtered and gasped as his world spun and his head rang with a piercing shriek. Gauth and his goddamned temper; of course he would forget that Al was still hungover. He steadied himself and, with a practically herculean effort, settled his whirling senses and glared at Gauth in his friend's dark, judgemental eyes.

"No one curses someone else without a reason," Al hissed, "and it's pretty damn clear it's a deliberate curse. Whatever the circumstances, I don't give a fuck about the how, when, or where, but gods-damn I've been fucking curious about the why."

Gauth's eyes blazed with rage for a moment, but the seed of doubt had been planted. Al's intent was clear. What if the curse was justified? Was there a point in Dahlia's life where she deserved such a curse? What if she had only recently dedicated her life to a path of redemption and mercy, and it was past sins that damned her to a life of misery? Even supposing she was cursed by a man she had healed, it was his assumption that the two events were closely linked. What if they were separate by days, months, years? If the healing had come after the curse, was it an attempt at apology? One that ultimately failed?

Al watched the fire in his friend's eyes fade as doubt sapped the strength from Gauth's fingers. Once Al was dropped back to his own feet, he cleared his throat, reset his tunic and straps, and walked over to the door in silence.

All children like sweets, but now Gauth wouldn't be counted among them.

xXxXx

Down in the common room, Al and Gauth were the last to arrive, and what waited for them was quite the strange sight. A drow in noble garb, one sleeve bloodied from shoulder nearly to wrist, scuffed with dirt and the occasional errant twig in his hair, stood in front of them with his own look of shock and surprise. Al watched him count the Ceylon Seven at least twice before he cleared his throat and prepared to speak.

Al felt his skin crawl. Being raised in Syngorn, he was practically spoon-fed the stories of evil dark elves from an early age, the legend of their historic betrayal no less familiar to him than any of a thousand nursery rhymes constantly quoted by children. In fact, it was an open secret that all dark-skinned elves, even if they were only mistaken for a drow, were shot on sight within five miles of the city limits. Al honestly could not remember if such a policy was written law or simply generally acknowledged as standard practice.

And yet, the only ones who seemed surprised, or even wary, were Bera, Gauth, and himself. Not even the innkeeper, nursing her sour mood with a deep glass of whiskey at the bar nearby, seemed even the slightest bit perturbed by the drow's presence.

Why? Why were they treating this drow as if he didn't just walk in with blue-black skin and silver-white hair?

Just before the drow began to speak, Jayce, also mostly recovered from the evening's previous events, stepped forward and extended a hand in greeting.

"First off, let me say I'm mighty sorry for startin' off on a rotten foot. I was out of line, an' I apologize," Jayce said, his voice saturated with apologetic sincerity. Al failed to resist the urge to roll his eyes, as he felt the gesture was heavy-handed.

The drow initially seemed surprised, but then took on a look of suspicion. Rather than shake Jayce's extended hand, the drow gripped his own bloodied arm defensively. "First impressions and all that," he said with a nod. "I'm sure I also caught you off guard."

Al scoffed under his breath. That was an understatement.

Jayce awkwardly took his hand back and cleared his throat with a flustered choke. Even so, Al noted Dahlia audibly sniffed at the air just before she shoved herself between the two oddly colored men, a foreign coat hugged to her stomach.

"Is the blood yours?" she said quickly, her hand already ducked into her medicine bag.

At this, the drow softened considerably, and even smiled in a gentle manner. "Rest assured, Lady Dahlia, while it is mine, I have already been tended to. I just haven't had a chance to rest or change." He paused for a moment, but when he saw Dahlia's hand was still in her bag, he continued, "I'll be fine."

"I can still help," Dahlia added, almost too quietly for Al to hear from his edge of the group.

It was then that Al understood. They knew each other already. That would explain why half of the group seemed perfectly fine with a drow standing in front of them. Of course, when they had mentioned a dark elf, they had actually meant a drow. He couldn't be lucky and just have to deal with some elf with a tan. Al's jaw went tight as he crossed his arms and looked anywhere else for a distraction from the conversation.

A sparkle of familiar silver light glimmered on the edge of his vision, and he was practically forced to look back at the strange circumstances that played out before them. Dahlia's magic cleaning spell, cast from a thin silver band on her right hand, rose as a magical ring of light from the drow's feet to over his head. Once there, it disappeared in a blast of glitter that briefly adorned the man before it faded completely. Newly refreshed and free from dirt and stain, the drow stood before them, practically a new man, despite the rips and tears his clothes had suffered in whatever misadventure that had drawn him to the Ceylon Seven.

With a bright and grateful smile, the drow gasped in delighted awe as he looked himself over. "Well now, that's a ring I wouldn't mind getting a copy of!" He looked back at Dahlia. "Thank you kindly. Now, I'm only my normal ghastly charms," he added with a wink.

On the one hand, Al was glad the man seemed aware of the social impact his particular epidural hue incurred. On the other, Al nearly gagged when he realized the man was subtly flirting.

"Children and sweets," he grunted to himself. He turned to the drow. "You are pretty startling to see at practically midnight," he said, loud enough to interrupt.

To his shock, Zoe's elbow thudded hard into his ribs, and her strike was sharp enough to partly wind him even through his concealed armor. He whipped his head around to glare at her, and he was surprised to note she was actually annoyed with him when she returned the glare in force. He internally sighed. She must know the drow too.

"Please excuse Al," Jayce sighed. "He's rude, even at the best of times."

The drow eyed Al with suspicion. "Is this the behavior I should expect on the job? Because, if so, I have no qualms finding someone else."

Jayce immediately put up his hands defensively as he attempted to deescalate the situation. "Whoa now, he may be rude, but he's a damn good rogue. Actually fielded an operation to save one 'f our own from a military fortress, an' everyone got out unharmed."

The drow's eyebrows went up in surprise. "Impressive. What have the rest of you to offer?"

A short, sharp whistle drew their attention to the inebriated innkeep, her demeanor as sour as her whiskey. With a glare that would kill if it could, she wordlessly warned them against continued conversation in her common room at just shy of one in the morning.

"Official introductions as soon as we get outside," Jayce whispered, his entire stance apologetic as he mimed tipping a hat to the lady at the bar. Not even waiting for a response, he gently took Dahlia's arm in the usual place and led her outside, prompting everyone else to follow.

As they crossed the threshold into the cold, autumn air, a chill wind blew by and caused the coatless drow to shiver. As if spurred on by the breeze, Dahlia hesitated several times in trying to hand off the coat she hugged to her stomach, but Jayce seemed too confused to connect her muttered request to an action. She then turned to Jonathan, who happened to be standing on her other side, but he also backed away, his hands up as if touching her would physically harm either of them. Instead, he nudged her toward the drow and explained something, and she hurriedly stepped forward and presented the beautiful velvet coat.

"Oh!" The drow beamed, surprised but delighted. "Thank you." He paused a moment, briefly checking its quality before he slipped it on with a smirk. "You didn't happen to find the treats I kept in there, did you?"

Dahlia waved her hands about frantically in front of her face as she almost recoiled from the man. "No! I didn't look through any of the pockets. I mean, the journal was hard to miss, but it's not like I can read it anyway, and rifling through pockets like that would be ru-"

"I'm only teasing!" the drow laughed. He reached into an inner pocket and pulled out a small pouch tied shut with a golden silk cord. "Want one? They're cinnamon."

Gauth perked up as if he was a dog that had just heard the dinner bell. "You have candy?" he asked with a stupid grin plastered across his face.

"Names first," Jayce chuckled. "You know that I'm Jayce, an' that's Dahlia, but the rest of us are Zoe, fast of fist and fleet of foot-"

Unsurprisingly, Zoe felt obligated to pump her fist in victory for obtaining a cool title.

"-an' her brother, Jonathan, spellcaster, and his familiar's Puffpaw."

Jonathan quickly nodded to the drow, but seemed annoyed that his introduction seemed truncated in comparison to his sister. Puffpaw, draped across his shoulders like usual, was annoyed on her master's behalf.

Jayce motioned to Bera, who had shoved her way to the front of the group just to be able to see what was going on. "Bera, bard supreme."

With such an opportunity presented, Bera bowed with a flourish, her stance in the perfect angles for a performance bow. Al briefly wondered if she had ever practiced gymnastics, like he had.

"Al, rogue and catpaw."

Al was nearly caught off guard when Jayce turned to him, as he had been distracted with his thoughts. Rather than reveal his distraction, he huffed in annoyance and again crossed his arms, refusing to look the drow in the eye as if he wasn't even there.

"And the literal muscle of the group, the mighty, unstoppable Gauth!"

Proud of the title, Gauth hammed it up by flexing as he stood, the muscles in his neck bulging as he took on an almost insane look of bloodlust. While it was all fake, the drow did seem partly taken off guard by the display.

The drow nodded and stood up straight, then bowed with an arm behind his back and an open palm against his heart. "A pleasure to meet you all. My name is Sendori Rausar Nind Vel'uss Yewl Hermet, the Undying Gunslinger, previous leader of the Heralds of the Storm, at your service." He straightened up and winced, his free hand nearly twitching toward the once-bloodied arm, but he tamped down the urge easily. "Well, actually, I'm hoping you'll be of service to me," he added after an awkward second.

Jonathan waved the comment away. "I already explained. So, how can we help?"

Sen nodded and launched into his tale. "Just prior to midnight tonight, the de Rolo lab at the Academy was robbed by a completely concealed dwarf, so I have no way to identify him. He used poison gas and spells to make his escape, but I did manage to do considerable damage to him, hoping to slow him down. He was pursued to the outside edge of the city to the east, where we found their hideout. There were six riflemen and one sniper. As of right now, I can confirm one of them is dead and at least one of the rifles is damaged beyond repair."

Sendori paused a moment and rubbed at his shoulder, his expression dark as recent memories flooded back. With a wince, he steeled himself and continued. "Beyond that, I don't know what we'll be heading into. Is this a task you're all willing to take? You will be compensated by the de Rolo family fairly for your service."

Al immediately latched on to what he believed was a very important detail. "Hang on, you want us to go up against the infamous de Rolo weapons?!"

Sendori huffed and turned toward him. "I've been shot by de Rolo weapons before, and these are imitations at best. That, and the failure rate I witnessed told me that they were of poor quality. If anything, the one shooter has a quality weapon, but I'm not confident the rest are."

"Still fucking deadly!" Al hissed under his breath.

"And if it helps!" Sendori cut in. He ducked his hand into his coat for a brief moment before revealing a beautiful pistol with a carved wooden handle adorned with flourishes of flowers, the barrel pointed upward. "You'll be working with one as well."

Zoe, clearly familiar with the infamous weapons, had a look of giddy awe that would be more at home on a child than a grown woman as she spied the weapon in Sendori's hand.

"Oh. Well, that's encouraging," Bera said, nervous enough that her emotion came through her voice.

"I...think it's safe to assume he's holding one of those weapons?" Dahlia asked awkwardly.

"Yep. Yeah, he is," Jayce gulped.

"I believe in our team," Jonathan announced suddenly. "We can handle this job."

Al sighed to himself. Jonathan was probably pitching in before anyone could verbally refuse the work, as it was clear the mage was interested in gaining the favor of the de Rolos. Al had to admit, favors in high places were always useful, but they were going to be facing off with literal rifles, the deadliest mundane weapons known to the world of Exandria. That, and they would be working for a drow with a ridiculously long, pretentious drow name. It didn't matter if the man cut a fine and noble figure, or had a pleasant face; he was still a sworn enemy of his hometown, and that was more baggage than a hungover rogue on three hours of sleep was willing to deal with.

Sendori holstered the pistol under his coat and glanced at the others. "Does he speak for you? Is this a quest you'll all accept?"

The others glanced among themselves, and Al felt incredibly defensive when nearly all of them looked at him at once. With a frustrated grunt, he nodded his agreement and turned away from them all before he could regret his decision and change his mind.

Jayce turned back to Sendori and smiled. "Looks like you've got yerself a team."

"Looks like I do," Sendori smiled. "Do any of you have a map of Whitestone on you?"

Zoe's face broke into a massive grin and she jumped forward. "Practically don't need it," she bragged, her chest puffed out in pride. "I ran a lot of the streets trying to find everybody earlier, so I got most of the city memorized!"

Sendori nodded. "Perfect. To the east there is a small gate, along the outer wall and just down the street from the Grey Hunt Manor." To aid in Zoe's mental map of Whitestone, Sendori explained in detail the exact directions to reach the manor from their current location. "I'll meet you all there. I'm not heading in there again without my armor this time."

"You got it. We're off!" Zoe announced, already marching away with a visible bounce to her step. While the others raced off to catch up with her, Al hung back a step to watch the drow walk away. To his surprise, the man paused, turned to look over his shoulder, and locked eyes with Al.

After a second of obviously sizing each other up, Sendori winked with a coy smile, then tugged his coat on his shoulders and turned to walk away in the wind. Al stared after him, nearly completely disbelieving of what he just saw. Did Sendori just flirt with him? And wasn't the man just flirting with Dahlia?

Then again, even if he was a drow, Al had to admit it would feel good to steal someone's attention from Dahlia. He raced down the street to catch up with the others and subtly smiled to himself.

It definitely wouldn't hurt to try.

xXxXx

Jayce's face was beyond sore and slowly throbbed with an aching, dull pain. Once again, he had to mentally stop himself from rubbing his jaw, as he knew that greasy salve was still on his cheek, and it was hard enough to wash off his hands the first time.

Even so, he refused to ask Dahlia for healing magic, as he still felt guilty for confessing his feelings to her. He had no idea she had been so badly wounded by a previous foray into love, and based on what he managed to glean from the touch of that scar, she had nearly died in the process. An axe strike to her face, and something more grievous to her stomach. Just what trauma had she dealt with in her long, nearly two centuries worth of life?

And all the while, chased by that shadow in her mind. How did she survive?

Jayce shifted slightly, but enough that a tug on his arm reminded him that Dahlia was still holding on to his elbow. He looked at her, his heart filled with admiration for her. Despite her darkness, she had held on, she had fought her own desires for death for so long, and as far as he knew, she had done so mostly alone.

He wished he could be half as strong as her.

The small gate Sendori had mentioned was, indeed, quite small as it was barely more than a large, heavily reinforced wooden door in the stone wall. A Pale Guard stood at attention, an older man with a humorous smile that almost seemed to break into giggles whenever they asked him about the damaged lock that had been replaced just a few moments after their arrival. The new lock, clearly brand new and gleaming with polished steel in the eerie green lantern light of the outer wall beacons, was noticeably larger than its predecessor, and had required some creative installation as it did not initially fit into the required space.

After that distraction was exhausted, everyone except Al began whispering among themselves about possible threats they might have to face, and how to counter them. It was already established that Bera would once again ride on Gauth's shoulder or back, as the situation required, to mitigate the issues her small stature made when trying to keep up with the other members of the team. Other topics of note included the possibility of sending Puffpaw ahead to scout, or if utilizing torches to accommodate the half of the team that were unable to see in near darkness was an acceptable risk.

Thankfully, Sendori arrived soon after they had nearly exhausted their conversation options. After his earlier introduction, no one was surprised to see him arrive in reinforced leather armor, a more rugged coat, a sword on his hip, and a rifle slung across his back. The previously presented pistol was also upon his person, tucked into a holster under his right arm.

What struck them, however, was not the well-adventured guise the noble now took, but the exceptionally wide-brimmed leather hat that shaded his features. Should the day have been a brighter, morning hour, the shadow of the hat alone would have completely dwarfed his natural shadow, turning his dark reflection into nothing more than a dark circle on the ground. Zoe barely restrained a laugh as he jogged toward them, the edges of the hat flapping like some demented bird that had nested on his head.

"Hail!" Sendori called out jovially, his wave angled at the Pale Guard at the gate. "The lock fixed?"

The guard smiled and nearly giggled when he spoke. "Yes, sir! And the multiple bullet holes in the old one have been noted," he added with a wink.

Sendori flushed as the guard couldn't take it anymore and nearly folded over in a spat of laughter. Once the drow had cleared his throat to salvage a bit of his composure, he found he had to do so a second time just to regain the guard's attention.

"You wouldn't happen to have a key this time, would you?" Sendori asked the guard. "These adventurers and I will be following up on the attack that happened just this hour."

Jonathan nearly did a double take between Sendori and the giggling guard and then turned to Jayce. "Wait, did he face off with the attackers outside the city by himself?"

Jayce shrugged. "No idea. It'd explain the bloody sleeve, though."

"I thought that was from the attack at the lab," Jonathan mumbled. He turned to Sendori. "Apparently, you have more to you than you originally let on, sir."

Sendori looked over himself, briefly confused before he came to his own conclusion. "Oh, this? I was in an adventuring party for a few years. These are just some things I found that work better than silks and linen," he said with a shrug.

Al snickered and added, "And the hat is…a choice."

Gauth nudged him this time, hard enough to cause Al to have to catch his step before he was thrown off balance. Zoe nodded her approval from Al's other side.

Thankfully, Sendori took it in stride. "That it is," he said with a chuckle. "However, it used to drive an old friend of mine nuts, so… It's more for the memory now." An idea struck him, and he looked to Al specifically. "Tell you what, if you like it that much, play nice and I may just give it to you."

The added wink and knowing smile prompted a coy grin from Al in return, which was unseen as Dahlia's request for clarification allowed Jayce to add some levity with a creative description of the hat. The way Jayce described it, Dahlia clearly had the amused impression that it was designed by a mercurial milliner.

Sendori settled his hat and checked his weapon belts, a chuckle under his breath playing across his face at Jayce's description. "We all ready?"

While the others believed they were good to go, Jayce realized an important question and stepped forward. "For the sake of our healer, there anythin' we should know about the path there'n back? Better to avoid surprises, an' all that."

Jonathan flushed in embarrassment that he didn't think of it first, and Puffpaw, her ears down, her head low, and her eyes apologetic, mimicked her master's temperament.

"Oh! Of course," Sendori said with a nod. He also seemed a little flustered over his oversight of Dahlia's limitations. "It's thin and a little rough. There's also a point where we'll need to climb a slope, and if needed I can mark a path up to help." He turned specifically to Dahlia. "For a case like this, Lady Dahlia, how can we best assist you?"

Gauth answered for his teacher. "I can put her on my back."

"But there will still be room for us both, right?" Bera asked, fluttering her eyelashes at Gauth behind her.

Gauth lips went tight in a mixture of embarrassment and annoyance. "...We will see," he eventually added.

"Aw," Bera grumbled.

Dahlia gripped her arms, uncomfortable with the whole thing. "I…don't know if-!" But then she winced, took a breath, and stood up tall. She briefly shook her head before she continued. "Nevermind. Gauth, I would be honored. Thank you."

Gauth smiled, but forgot to verbally confirm his feelings on the matter for Dahlia's sake.

"Then we're ready," Sendori said with a nod of his own. He turned to the Pale Guard at the door. "If you would, sir?"

The guard gave a nod of acknowledgement and pulled a hidden key from his hip to open the small gate. The new lock worked like a charm, its tumblers whisper-quiet as the key turned inside it, and the door swung open on old, but well maintained hinges. Just beyond, the northern reaches of the Parchwood Timberland, within which Whitestone was nestled, loomed in the darkness of the waning night like dark bones reaching for the sky.

With only a brief hesitation to glance at something to their left, Sendori took the lead, leading the group through the forest along a small, nearly invisible path that had been forged by beings that clearly wished to remain unseen. The light of the green beacons had no hope to reach them in the shadows of the Parchwood, so Al offered his hooded lantern to keep the light they needed on the path ahead, and to hopefully mitigate any possible errant radiance that could be seen from a distance.

In that way, the density of the brush worked in their favor, as the branches tangled above them made even spotting the sky from between the boughs a chore. Even so, if the stars struggled to send their light to those below the branches, any suspicious eyes above would be hard pressed to spot their directed light from Al's lantern, but such a feat would not be impossible.

Sooner than anyone expected, Sendori motioned for the group to halt, and indicated a deeply dark patch on the ground. It was a wide puddle, a nearly black liquid in the muted light of Al's lantern, with clear drag marks giving it a long, streaked tail on the far side. Gauth kneeled down and dipped his fingers in the fluid, rubbing his fingertips together to feel the texture. Based on the thickness and viscosity, he had no doubt it was coagulated blood.

"Two hours. Not that long ago," he growled darkly. He was on the hunt for a wounded creature, one that had collapsed and nearly bled out some time ago. Even with the lack of light, Gauth caught the edge of footprints along the drag marks, the tell-tale hard edges of man-made boots. He was dragged away by a humanoid, likely an ally, and he shared his assessment with the others.

Sendori nodded in agreement. "Pretty sure that was the dwarf who actually pulled the robbery. Okay, just past this point we have to climb. We caved in their hideout, but at least two…maybe three people were outside when we did." He turned to the group. "Zoe and… vith, catpaw? I'm sorry, I lost your name."

Al rolled his eyes and braced a hand on his hip. "Al. Want me to scout ahead?"

Sendori nodded again, and pointed to the sloping cliff tangled and choked with branches and thick roots jutting out from the hidden ground behind it. "Please. If you both could. I don't want you getting jumped on your own." He huffed and subtly nodded to his recently-injured arm. "Tried that already. It doesn't work."

Sendori looked up past the branches and then turned back to Zoe and Al, who had moved to stand at the front of the group. "It's practically straight up from here, and the thick branches here are how I got up the first time."

Al and Zoe both nodded, glanced at each other, and Zoe's look of competitive drive was infectious. Both dashed toward the branches and roots, easily finding foot- and handholds to clamber up the side with ease, and quickly disappeared among the higher branches they could see.

Jonathan whimpered slightly, clearly worried for his sister. Unlike Al, she did not have the ability to see in low light, and what little light they did carry was left behind with the group. On top of that, Jonathan easily remembered the multiple times Zoe had suffered nearly fatal wounds, only to be saved simply by her proximity to a healer. In this moment, she was racing away, far from Dahlia or anyone else that could help, into practically true darkness.

Kra-KOW!

A crackling blast of sound, one that thudded into their chests like thunder, faded on the wind nearly as quickly as it appeared. Sendori's gaze snapped up the slope and he leapt forward, hissing, "Vithe is still here!", under his breath.

To his shock, someone had a handful of the back of his coat.

"Stop!"

The quiet was deafening as he turned to see Dahlia, of all people, holding him in place with a lucky fistful of fabric. Her head was tilted in the silence, her eyes drifting as they wandered sightlessly past him.

"Why?" he whispered, his voice tense with worry.

"The sniper is currently looking for targets," Dahlia said quietly, her voice strong despite her uncertainty of the shooter's title. "Both Al and Zoe have ways to avoid being hit, and they can disappear if they need to, but rushing in and giving him more to shoot at will convince the shooter that there are more things to shoot! Be calm!"

Clearly, Sendori wasn't the only one who wanted to leap in and react to the noise, but Dahlia's words were wise, and her counsel was clearly trusted by the others. He holstered his half-drawn pistol, grumbled about waiting, and then drew the pistol again anyway to check it was fully loaded and ready to fire.

The seconds passed in tense silence, one so absolute that even Jonathan, who was not familiar with the wilds beyond city walls, noted the lack of sound normally caused by nocturnal fauna. The creak of Gauth's axe handle, the leather straining as he twisted his grip in worry, was audible even to the least perceptive of them.

A crackle of branches, the strain of wooden roots against unfamiliar weight…

Al then Zoe, almost simultaneously, dropped into view as they leapt from the slope and landed easily, their steps muffled from practice and expert balance. Al, in the orange light of the lantern, looked particularly cartoonish as his pallor had more easily adopted the color of the firelight. Zoe huffed and calmed herself to breathe as Al stepped forward, his hands shaking as he counted through his comment.

"So, good news, bad news. Good news, the cave is still sealed off. Bad news, we may have tipped off the sniper. Holy shit those rifle things are terrifying."

Sendori winced in empathy. "Yeah, feeling one of those shots whiz by is not a fun feeling. You both okay?"

Zoe blew off the comment with false bravado. "Pfft. Oh yeah. He missed me by a mile," she grinned.

"And he missed me close enough to shave!" Al hissed.

Sure enough, Al had a small nick on the tip of his bluntly pointed ear. It was hard to notice in the poor light, but Bera clearly saw it and prayed to the Wildmother that the group would continue to keep her blessing in one of her many forests.

Sendori immediately turned the conversation back to business. "Did you get a heading? Any clue where he may be holed up?" he asked, holstering the pistol to switch to his rifle.

To their surprise and Sendori's delight, Al nodded. "I'm mostly sure that he's firing from a ledge up and left from the pile of rubble we reached. I managed to see the flash of light right before the boom."

Sendori nodded and leaned to look past him, up the slope and beyond as well as he could with his more focused darkvision. "If I climb around there, I think I can get a good shot," he mumbled, his hands moving from muscle memory alone to draw and prepare the rifle from his back to fire. He turned back to the Ceylon Seven. "Think you can cause some chaos without showing where you are?"

There was a hesitation between them as quick plans were fielded in quiet conversations. Bera quickly mentioned her silent illusion spell, but it was unlikely it would be noticed unless it was particularly gaudy and bright. Inspired, Jonathan immediately had an idea and whirled around to face Sendori. "Are you familiar with Prestidigitation?" he asked with a giddy grin.

The drow leaned back a bit and looked at the wizard with suspicion. "I am," he said slowly. "What's the plan?"

"I can layer the magic of Prestidigitation to send sparks and high pitched whistles up through the branches, away from my position, and it will easily grab anyone's attention." Jonathan was struck by a second facet of the plan and continued. "I can even keep the light just below the leaves, to look like shifting lantern light."

"Provided you do it right," Zoe mumbled, rubbing her chin in thought. It sounded like it would work!

Sendori agreed. "That's a good start. Uh, Candyman? You're a tracker, right?"

The group snickered momentarily as they tried to parse through who, exactly, Sendori meant. Remembering the moment Sendori had brought forth his small bag of candy, Gauth pointed at himself and cocked an eyebrow. "Me?"

"Still learning names," Sendori smiled awkwardly. "But yes, you."

Gauth snickered and tapped his chest. "Gauth. I am a hunter."

Sendori nodded his acknowledgement. "When we go loud, at least one is going to try and sneak around. They have military training, so I would be surprised if this didn't happen. I think it would be best if they find you sooner than they were expecting. You agree?"

Sendori cocked and loaded his rifle with a mischievous grin, one that appealed to Gauth, but his own limitations were already at the front of his mind. "I cannot see without the lantern," Gauth growled.

"And it's very likely they don't have that limitation," Jonathan cut in.

"I'll take care of it," Al said with a mischievous smirk of his own. "I don't have that limitation either."

"Then we have the start," Sendori said, confident in their plan. He turned to the others. "The rest of you, ready to dive in when it gets loud?"

Jayce appreciated someone else taking the lead, for once. It was not a position he enjoyed, and being able to step back and rely on someone else's plans helped him feel light and confident again. Or that may have been the laudenum. It was hard to tell at this point.

"We're ready," Jayce said, his voice strong. He felt like he could take on the world! But then Dahlia's grip squeezed his arm. She was nervous, and remembering how little of the world she could experience, and how much she had to navigate regardless, reminded him to mitigate his own excitement.

He had promised to protect her, and whether or not she returned his feelings, she was his friend, and one stupid little rejection wasn't going to change that. He tapped his fingertips against her hand to comfort her, and in the small language they had developed together, she nodded her understanding and spared him a thankful smile.

Sendori, impatient to start, looked at Jonathan. "Give us a moment to get in position, then let all hell break loose."

Jonathan nodded to both Sendori, and then his sister, and Zoe dashed into the thick brush, her brother closely following. Even though they lit their way with Jonathan's magical lights, the orbs were dim at best, and quickly disappeared in the tangle of thick, irregular trees.

Jayce, grounded by Dahlia's palpable concern for them, watched them go with his own look of worry. "Here's hopin' they make it back," he mumbled.

Sendori caught the comment and gave Jayce a curious look. "You don't trust your companions?"

Had Jayce been paying closer attention to Sendori's voice, he may have noticed the venom that slipped between the words, the bitter distrust of a man who still believed Dahlia was abused and manipulated by a cruel, racist keeper. However, oblivious, Jayce shrugged and sighed.

"Let's just say luck ain't been a good friend lately," Jayce answered.

"Then make your own," Sendori huffed. He turned and began to ascend the twisted boughs that provided the path upward. As darkness enveloped him, he disappeared completely and quietly called out, "See you on the other side."

Then he was gone.

They moved quickly. Dahlia climbed onto Gauth's back with Bera's instruction to help her hang on, and thankfully there was room for them both to hang on the giantkin's axe harness. Gauth took a moment to wish Al good luck before the rogue slipped into the shadows around them, and with an anxious haste in their steps, those that remained began to climb.

The branches and roots groaned and protested mightily under Gauth's considerable weight, made more exceptional with the addition of two others upon his back. Jayce led the way, but even with him pointing out the thicker, more solid boughs to use, the entangled trees made for slow going as Gauth carefully tried to test each branch before he progressed.

Dahlia tensed on his back, her voice choked in the barest moment before speech could pass her lips, but it was too little, too late. A dry limb splintered in his hand as he pulled his full weight past it, and before he could register what happened, he was weightless, Bera screaming despite the need for stealth.

Thankfully, the cliff face was not sheer, but that was a cold comfort as his fingers failed to find any purchase as he failed to save himself and his charges. Desperate, he twisted and braced himself, ready to land first and break the fall of both Bera and Dahlia. The ground sloped under him and he struck the knotted branches, his axe flying from his hands as his arm was shocked to numbness from the blow. Gauth's remaining arm flashed out, twisting through several thick roots in the split second he was close enough to grab them, and tensed every muscle in his body to draw them all close to the tangled wall. By some miracle, both Bera and Dahlia managed to hang on, and were still clinging to his weapon harness when his body finally came to a bruised stop against the vegetation.

Of course, Gauth had suffered far worse injuries in his life, and he was able to quickly revive his numb arm by shaking it out. His first priority was to anchor himself to the wall, as he was now functionally blind; Jayce, who had the lantern, was far enough above him that whatever light fell down to Gauth's eyes merely highlighted strange shapes in black voids.

"Mother's mercy mawrkin ey dove…!" Bera whimpered to herself, her voice choked with panicked tears. She continued to mutter a prayer of nonsense that was quickly interrupted by Dahlia.

"Are you both okay?" Dahlia whispered, her voice worried and tense. Gauth grunted as his chest and arm twinged with pain, but he pushed through it.

"I am fine. Are you?" he asked.

"I-I'm okay," Bera wheezed. "But we're in pitch blackness! I can't see anything!"

"It's a good thing I'm used to that," Dahlia said with a strange confidence that caught them both off guard. "Gauth, I can't give you much, but I can lead you to the larger roots. Are you ready?"

"I am," Gauth said, his confusion causing a slight hesitation in his answer.

With Gauth's confirmation spurring her on, Dahlia began to release strange clicks from her throat, a relatively quiet noise that soon became lost in sudden rapid explosions, rifle fire, that began to assail their ears from both above and to their right. After each click, Dahlia gave simple comments, basic directions based on the face of a clock, that thankfully Gauth knew enough about to follow with relative ease.

The explosions above continued to crack and echo through the trees around them, but such sounds were suddenly accompanied by the softer, but no less deadly, sound of flame bursting through the barriers of air between its origin and target. Dahlia instantly knew Jayce had reached the ledge above and was evening the odds, but before she could speak, Gauth hissed and tensed under her grip.

"Gauth! What happened?!" she yelped.

"No! Lead me!" Gauth yelled, forcing his voice to form words instead of cries of pain. A bullet from the sniper had found him on the cliff face, despite the darkness, and pierced the thick muscle of his thigh. Through sheer luck, the steep angle had missed the rest of them and his other limbs, but he knew the luck wouldn't hold. The next shot could be the one to kill any of them. Using his pain to fuel his rage against their attackers, Gauth pumped his muscles with vigor, almost jumping several feet up the tangled cliff without waiting for direction as searing pain spasmed his leg.

He just had to reach the top. Once he was there, he could direct that fury towards a deserving target. Something between his hands to crush. Something to mangle and maim. Something to destroy. That's all he needed. To taste their blood and fear.

The air around him began to audibly crackle and pop, a pong of ozone assailing his passengers' nostrils as Dahlia's directions became choked and strained. His nails, thick and jagged from repeated fistfights and a lack of care, gouged branch and root indiscriminately, and when he finally slammed his fingertips into stone, he barely registered the pain as Gauth ripped himself over the edge and bodily threw Dahlia and Bera to the floor.

His breath had grown hot with the boiling fury in his blood, steaming the cold night air as he hunted for a target. There, ahead, a wounded rifleman, his cloak burning with a slick, oily flame, panicked and brought up his weapon.

Too little, too late.

For Gauth, the world was in the throws of groggy sluggishness, with all movement obvious and weak. Without a second of hesitation, Gauth, enraged that someone would dare to even try to harm those he cared for, charged forward and grabbed the man's head in his massive hand. With a shove that bodily lifted his enemy from his feet, Gauth slammed the man's skull into the tumbled rocks, collapsing more than half of it as churned gore splattered out any orifice that offered little resistance. Finally. The air had that intoxicating taste.

More.

He needed more.

As Gauth threw himself at the collapsed stones, barely visible in the dying light of a torch left behind by the thieves, Bera scrambled to Dahlia's side. The blind healer was fumbling about for her tools, as her bag had been jostled enough to pop its latch and fling open at the worst possible time.

"Dahlia! Are you alright?!" Bera cried, her fear carried audibly in her voice.

"I-I'm fine," Dahlia gulped. She finally closed her fingers around her surgery kit and shoved it back in her bag. "Where are we?"

"Gauth's lost it!" Bera wailed. "He's tearing at the rocks-"

"Cover your ears!"

Krak-ow!

A rifle fire exploded far too close, but the called command was just enough. Bera and Dahlia had guarded their ears just before the shot harmed their hearing, and Sen, still leaning over the edge of the cliff ledge with his rifle aimed along the ground, his strange hat somehow missing from his head, glanced past the resulting smoke at a limp body between them and the mess at the rocks.

Before Bera could protest, the body's finger's released a partially aimed rifle, one that would have fired directly at Gauth's skull, should it have been allowed to fire. It was clearly obvious to the bard that the man had played dead, but not well enough to avoid Sen's notice.

With that obvious question out of the way, Sen scrambled up to flat ground, hissing through a wound of his own that had soaked one pantleg below the knee. "Are you two okay?!" he urgently asked both women.

Bera, practically dizzy from the emotions, fear, loud noises, and smell of gunpowder, shook her head to try and clear it before she spoke. She failed. "Feelin' a wee bit deaf and a mite thistled," she wheezed, "but so far, unharmed!"

She offered a weak thumbs up as well, but neither Sen or Dahlia noticed.

Dahlia, gripping at her chest, fought to breathe. Her world had been so loud, and then suddenly so quiet. She couldn't sense the edges. She felt lost. The only things that remained were the shape of her amulet and the ground beneath her. She had to ground herself. She had to convince herself that she wasn't about to fall into the abyss of darkness that surrounded her senses.

Immediately aware of Dahlia's panic attack, Sen, careful to avoid his injured knee, pulled himself over to her side and pulled out his candy bag. "Dahlia, I need you to focus. Here. I'm holding my candy pouch in front of your face, about 8 o'clock." With a practiced twist, he pulled the drawstring pouch fully open. "Take one and suck on it. Focus on the taste."

Magically, Sen's words managed to find Dahlia's mind, and her shaking hand reached for the bag. Although the moment felt like minutes, a scant second passed before Dahlia's fingers brushed the edge of the pouch opening, ducked inside, and found a small, red, hard candy. Unfortunately, she pinched too hard, and it popped right out from between her fingers and disappeared into the darkness as she squeaked in alarm. Slightly amused, Sen opened his mouth to speak, but he had scarcely breathed in to form the words before she had snatched another candy and popped it in her mouth, as if to avoid the embarrassment.

She immediately winced as spicy cinnamon flooded her mouth, but she did as she was directed. Dahlia focused on the taste, as unpleasant as it was, until the sweetness of sugar finally began to peek through. Simultaneously, she felt her heartbeat calm, and her breathing return to normal.

"Th-thank you," she whispered, visibly relieved as her shoulders fell.

Clattering stones, bouncing and cracking through boughs as they were chucked from the ledge, rang out past them as Gauth continued to assault the collapsed entrance to the cavern. Bera gulped and turned to Sen.

"May I please have a candy?" she asked as sweetly as she could.

"Please help yourself," Sen said with a smile as he handed her the bag. He almost chuckled as Bera immediately nabbed her own piece of candy and popped it in her mouth, only for her eyes to nearly bug out of her skull. She coughed and recovered, less than gracefully, but nonetheless with a smile.

Sen glanced at Gauth as the giantkin fought with a large, almost torso-sized slab of jagged rock from the pile. "The cave inside is too small for a large group," he said specifically to Bera, "so can you and Dahlia stay out here in case we need you?"

Bera nodded emphatically. "You don't need to tell me twice! I'll keep an eye on her."

Sen nodded in response and turned to the blind healer. "Dahlia, one last thing: Do you have the Spiritual Weapon spell that battle clerics use?"

Dahlia, her face still fighting the particular flavor of the candy, could only nod in his direction.

Despite her blindness, Sen waved his hands about in a rough approximation of the dimensions he needed as he talked. "I need you to make a tower shield, no wider than me or yourself, and as tall as you are. Can you do that?"

Dahlia had to blink in surprised shock. Was it actually possible to change the shape of a divine weapon? And if that was possible, could it become something that wasn't strictly a weapon?

She jolted her attention back to the current moment and swallowed the final speck of candy before she spoke. "I-I think I can, but it's not strictly…corporeal, I think. I can control its movement, but because of my will to do so, not by a physical touch."

Sen waved off the comment. "I'll make it work. When you hear me call out, throw it at my voice like a spear. Okay? As hard as you can."

Dahlia gulped nervously but nodded toward him. "It only lasts a minute, so choose your minute carefully."

With an expression that was so serious it bled into his voice, Sen confirmed he would need her spell within moments and rushed off to Gauth's side, his injured knee nearly causing him to stumble in the process. Nearly the same second he arrived at the rubble, Gauth finally succeeded in ripping away a significant boulder, which caused half of the pile to collapse and resettle upon the ledge.

However, in the chaos of dust and debris, both Gauth and Sen managed to dash inside, disappearing into the cloud of grit that had been kicked up in the giantkin's struggle. While the opening was now much larger, it was still a tough squeeze for Gauth to enter the cavern due to his immense size.

As soon as Sen slipped into the familiar darkness of the cave, his eyes automatically adjusted to the inky shadows that choked the passage. Just hours before, full of the fear of failing his good friend and his patron family, he had stormed the cavern and faced off with the counterfeit Grey Hunters. Through sheer luck, their inferior weapons, barely copies of the actual rifles that made the Grey Hunters an infamous force of reckoning among the underbelly of society, continuously misfired. Several of the weapons had even jammed or destroyed themselves during a backfire, but his luck was not perfect. As he passed a splatter of blood on the wall, he grimaced with grim recognition; the drying blood was his own, the result of a nearly-lethal bullet tearing through his arm.

It was at that point Sen decided reinforcements were prudent, but upon bolting away from the literal den of thieves and almost diving down the root covered ledge, he stumbled right into the presence of Lady Vex'ahlia de Rolo, the Baroness of the Third House of Whitestone, Grand Mistress of the Grey Hunt, Champion of Pelor. Her white dragonscale armor was practically radiant as a glowing arrow from Fenthras, her legendary bow and a Vestige of Divergence, fired into the chaos above with deadly accuracy and a scream of thunder. With destruction on par with any explosive Sen had yet encountered, the mountainside collapsed upon the cave entrance, sealing the thieves inside.

Unfortunately, upon hearing the Grey Hunters had been compromised, Lady Vex'ahlia de Rolo entrusted Sen with finishing the hunt of the thieves, and raced off to confirm the integrity of her special forces. Sen had to laugh to himself; if he hadn't stopped by Castle Whitestone to beg for the use of Charlie, the family bear, to follow the scent of the thief he gravely wounded in the lab, such a miracle may have never found him, and his body would have been discovered in the woods far too late to find the culprits.

Sen shook the daydream from his head and pressed on. Just as he came to the end of his knowledge, he had to pause, despite the sounds of a raging goliath quickly gaining behind him. The sounds of battle, rifle fire and magical beams, were still echoing and far away. He peeked around the corner, and his suspicions were confirmed; The landslide had managed to crack open a wall at the back of the small cave, and beyond it was a yawning chasm with a multitude of ledges and crags to hide in.

Barely ducking out of the way as Gauth charged by, Sen called back, "Hold off, Dahlia! There's a turn!" before rushing in behind the raging barbarian. To his shock, just beyond the crack in the wall was less than five feet of a ledge, but Gauth did not even slow down. Instead, the giantkin launched himself off the edge, roaring with primal fury as he miraculously avoided broken, jagged boulders before slamming into the ground in front of a terrified bandit who had only barely managed to avoid being flattened. The darkness was stifling, especially to those without his more sensitive sight, but the constant flashes from the rifles created a surreal, almost strobing light effect that gave Gauth just enough sense to see.

Sen winced in horror and disgust as Gauth slammed the bandit's head into the rocks hard enough to shatter the man's skull. His more sensitive eyes easily noted Gauth seemed to revel in the death and destruction, and watched him spin and hunt for another target. "Vith uns'aa, he's insane…" he mumbled, completely in awe of the fearlessness of the grey-skinned barbarian.

But Gauth was on the right track, and Sen needed to get his head back in the game. Glancing over the edge, Sen immediately spotted Jayce, pinned behind a cracked boulder that was only just big enough to give him cover, and while he was completely unable to find Al, he did see a second thief ducking out from behind a vertical slate to fire right into Gauth's face. In a motion made fluid and instant from decades of practice, Sen brandished, aimed, and fired his own rifle three times a fraction of a breath before the new enemy could squeeze the trigger on hers.

Two of the bullets missed, mostly because Sen intentionally fired wide to avoid striking Gauth by accident, but the middle shot pierced the woman's chest, right between her ribs. Her gasp in pain was enough for Gauth to clock her position, but his blindness in the darkness was enough for her to dodge his attack. Her look of fury made it clear she didn't find Gauth a threat, and she wheezed as she pointed her rifle back at Sen.

More bullets were flying in the room, bolts of blue-black flame, small torches glinting off random pockets of mica and the lead shot, and as such it was impossible to tell where the errant shots landed, as they had clearly missed their target. In a motion that would be on par with any Grey Hunter's reload, Sen dropped a custom clip out of the rifle and retrieved another, snapping it into place in less than a second. A whistle of a bullet whispered by his ear, completely lost in the cacophonous explosions, as he aimed and again fired three times on Gauth's aggressor.

Again, he aimed wide, trying to fire around Gauth in an attempt to avoid hitting his ally. Then, in a stroke of luck, the thief dodged backward, right into the path of the bullets Sen fired. Two still missed, but the third buried itself deeply into the woman's eye. She dropped to the ground, dead before she struck the stone at her feet.

Another scream echoed among the gunfire, the pauses between the shots noticeably growing as further targets were killed in the natural tectonic shaft, and then a familiar voice called out in pain. Jayce suffered a successful strike from one of the riflemen below them, but the roar turned from one of injury to one of anger.

Sen had to even the odds. Ducking down, he yanked over his pack and pulled out a quick-light torch, easily sparked to life by smacking the head against the ground. Once lit, he called out, "Garth! Catch!"

The misremembered name was close enough, as Gauth saw the flying torch and easily caught it. Now armed with light, Gauth pounced off the ledge, roaring with primal rage as his target, another thief, screamed in terror before their voice was permanently silenced.

"Shoulda left a fucking earring with them," Sen mumbled to himself. He turned and yelled into the original cavern, "Dahlia, Bera! Jayce is hurt and needs assistance!" as he pulled out a rope and deftly tied an anchor around a thick stalagmite on the ledge.

Just as Sen stood back up, Zoe zipped past him, deftly leaping and hopping from ledge to ledge as she descended, easily catching up to the goliath down below. Jonathan, panting, arrived as well, but more slowly made his way down by the thin path that barely jutted out to the right of the ledge. Bera and Dahlia made the tail end of this impromptu procession, with Bera immediately regretting her decision to follow and Dahlia almost dashing for the tiny, barely foot-wide path that Jonathan was attempting to navigate in the poor light.

Sen threw out an arm to stop Dahlia, as he knew from their previous meeting that actively grabbing her would not go over well. Once she bumped into it, she flinched back and turned in his direction, confused and anxious.

"It's steep here," he explained. "I've set up a rappel to get down, and I know it will hold." He turned to Jonathan and Bera. "Who here knows how to use a communication charm?"

Jonathan winced as more muzzle fire below continued to echo and pop in deafening volume. "I-I can cast Message whenever you need it. I don't see anybody out of range," he yelped, hoping to be heard.

Sen shifted over and pressed an earring into Jonathan's palm. "Telepathic earring. We may get split up, so who should take this? I don't know your team. You know best what to expect next."

Jonathan took the earring and put it on. "I'm familiar with the magic involved, so I can use this most effectively."

Bera scoffed, but she was unheard as Gauth, once again, roared below them.

Sen nodded and gestured to Dahlia. "I'll take Dahlia down this shaft. The others are already down there, and be careful. That path looks treacherous, and you can actually see it. Stay safe how you can."

"Not ideal, but it's better'n having our healer take a pipper's trip," Bera wheezed. Jonathan, despite being confused at Bera's choice of words, nodded his agreement and led the way down, slowly and carefully with an orb of magical light in his palm.

Sen turned to explain his plan to Dahlia as she ducked past him, heading for the thin path both the thieves and their allies had taken before. Once again, Sen blocked her path with just an arm, and once again, she flinch back, almost as if she had touched a red hot rod instead of Sen's limb.

"Dahlia, are you comfortable taking that path?" he asked, his voice full of concern. "It's thinner than your foot in places. I can rappel the two of us down. That way, I can guarantee your safety."

Even with her blindness, Dahlia avoided his gaze, her face a picture of embarrassment. However, in the darkness, Sen was unable to tell if she was embarrassed at the notion of asking for help, or at the thought of rappelling down the wall, cradled in his arms like a whimpering child. Before he could come to a conclusion, Dahlia spoke.

"What if they shoot at us? I can map out most of the cavern from the small explosions, so I'm actually well aware of how thin the route is," she said quickly.

Sen blinked in shock. She could echolocate with that much accuracy? That was impressive. Even so, he had already thought of her concern. "They'll have to shoot through me," he explained. "I'll have you hold on to my front, and I'll lean back. It would be impossible to hit you until you let go."

Another explosion, the fire of a rifle, accompanied a scream below them. Dahlia shuddered and her resolve left her. "Fine. Let's go. Now!" she yelled.

Sen nodded and picked up the rope. "Arms around my neck, and you'll lock your legs around my waist. If you ever feel us go into freefall, tuck your knees to your side and brace your arms around your head. I'll take care of the rest."

Of course, this was to guarantee Sen would end up completely beneath her if they fell, but in reality, it may not matter if the worst came to pass. When Sen had glanced over the edge earlier, his sensitive sight, far more used to the inky blackness of shadows and darkness, could not determine the bottom of the natural shaft. He knew that meant it was far deeper than one-hundred-fifty feet, and by then, even with a body to cushion her, their velocity would be terminal in more ways than one.

Dahlia had to physically force herself to comply, and Sen almost regretted his plan as he felt her shudder against him. Even so, the rifle fire was well spaced out now, only a shot or two every few seconds, and Jonathan had moved ahead with a light in his palm; hopefully, the wizard and bard made a more tempting target than Sen and Dahlia, who moved along an unexpected path and with no light to reveal them.

Once Dahlia was braced against him, Sen leaned back and stepped down, one step, two, his body nearly parallel with the flat surface of the ledge that was now five feet above them. Another crack, the concussive sound of the rifles below, startled Dahlia enough that he twitched and accidently twisted his foot, which caused his footing to slip out from between them and the wall.

With a thud, Dahlia squeaked in shock and discomfort, as she had ended up being the cushion between Sen and the wall. He apologized quietly, but thoroughly, as he struggled to regain his footing when he heard a strange sound. A thick thwup of a sound, like something cylindrical being gently fired out of a tube.

In a panic, he twisted hard, just in time to see a smoking canister sail past him. It flew up, arched above them, and disappeared beyond the ledge where his rope had been anchored.

Sen knew that was a grenade. He knew what was about to happen. He knew how powerless he was to stop it.

"Shu! Brace!" he yelled.

Dahlia clutched onto him with all her might as a real explosion, one from an actual bomb, rocked the cavern above them. Debris and shrapnel rained down and, for the briefest of moments, they were floating.

Weightless.

Falling.

Dahlia was lost. Her mind was drowning in terror, her limbs locked up in fear. The air began to whistle past them, then it howled, then it screamed. There were no edges. She was beyond them. She knew she was about to die.

Their shape, a dark shadow of tangled bodies, hurtled past Jayce. In that moment, his magic flared, and the alien light of his oily, blue-black flame illuminated the face of Dahlia, her expression one of terror and despair.

And then she was gone.