Misu looked at Huǒ-Hè’s corpse with little regard as she hurriedly trotted over to Alvalar, not revealing the pain that her paws surely felt each time she took a step. She began to grunt and wheek softly as though she was encouraging her very own cub to take its first steps. But Alvalar refused to raise from where he laid. She then nudged his head with hers, but again nothing.

Did Huǒ-Hè kill him? Karollus thought nervously. The shame that filled his heart was relegated to the back as dread and anger took over. Was Misu too late? If only I got up—

A weak hand rose, illuminated by the moon’s glow as it caressed Misu’s chocolate fur. Karollus’ heart leaped at the sight of the hand, but he held his breathe skeptically as he watched Misu tug on the hand’s fingers.

“OW!” Alvalar groaned. “Misu, I’m alive, okay?! ¡Ya! You don’t need to pull on my hand. My left shoulder got stabbed with a sword and it hurts like hell, so stop pullin’!”

Whether it was because the calibress was skeptical like Karollus or out of sheer excitement, she tugged on her owner’s hand once more. Although weak, Alvalar sat up as though he was ready to scold her for not listening, but Misu bombarded his face with slobber. Alvalar laughed and wrapped his unhurt arm tightly around his trusty calibress’ neck.

With Inferno sheathed inside its scabbard, Alvalar soon got himself back on his feet. He was limping, but by using his sword as a cane and leaning some of the rest of his weight on Misu’s massive body, he slowly managed to climb over those pesky vines.

He stopped midway in his journey and picked up Estrella, her red shards glistening brightly in the darkness like it was acting as a lantern. It took some while for Alvalar to make it over where Karollus laid, but when he did and wrapped Karollus’ good arm around his stocky shoulders while placing a hand against his hip, the baker’s son found himself finally beginning to believe this wasn’t just a dream. He even slid Estrella into his pocket and into her leather scabbard for good measure.

Even though Alvalar was helping him to his feet with much care, the pain that coursed through Karollus’ body was still excruciating. He groaned and moaned, trying to focus and not pass out from the pain. When he finally managed to stand tall, however, the less of the pain he felt – Thank Nakoi!

Wanting to forget about the pain and get rid of the last ounce of skepticism in his heart, Karollus gently caressed his former lover’s cheek with his good hand. Alvalar turned and locked eyes with the baker’s son, smiling as though filled with pride.

With the combined force of the moon and the fire, Alvalar’s illuminated face was revealed to be covered in gashes and cuts of various sizes and severities, his curls clinging to the sticky blood that coated his skin. The lesser and smaller ones had already stopped bleeding and was now healing before Karollus’ very eyes, however, the largest gash, which ran from his right cheek all the way past his ear with some of his earlobe missing, showed no signs of immediate healing. Although no longer bleeding, the wound was still fresh and the muscles that were torn were still bright red in color.

Despite the scent of iron was invaded Karollus’ nostrils with their overpowering stench, the metalsmith apprentice was still able to move about, albeit carefully and one at a time, and he knew that meant one thing:

He was alive.

“Don’t believe I’m alive and kickin’, Karo?” Alvalar asked with a slight chuckle. His brows arched while his smile morphed into a smirk that shined brightly upon his lips. “I don’t blame you. Neither do I.”

Karollus felt a subtle pinch in his nose and his face turn hot once more as more and more tears tumbled down his cheeks, stinging the cuts they came across. “I-It’s not funny, you kava’o,” he sobbed, pulling his former lover into a tight embrace.

“Yo se,” Alvalar replied. His tenor voice was much more serious, if a bit sad, in tone as it rang in his bodyguard’s ear. The lightheartedness of his previous statement was gone as though it had faded away without a trace, like it was but a bluff. He shifted his weight a bit and slowly wrapped an arm around Karollus, holding him as tightly and as closely as he could. “Yo se.”

The baker’s son clenched the Navasarian Weapon Wielder’s work jerkin as he cried and cried. His shoulders trembled about and it was hard to gasp for air, but that slowly came to halt as did the tears. Feeling tired but also a bit cathartic, he finally released the metalsmith apprentice from his tight embrace after what felt like a good eight minutes of straight weeping.

With a shaking hand, Alvalar slowly caressed Karollus’ face, wiping away the few tears that still lingered. “Karo, show me your hand.”

Karollus felt his stomach stir when his former lover’s order had registered into his brain. His intestines were like snakes that got themselves caught and twisted into a knot and then another knot. His breathing turned heavy as he took in the sight of his hand submerged in the cloth of his shirt and the blood that was soaked deeply into the fabric.

His eyes shifted back to Alvalar. The Navasarian Weapon Wielder’s expression was a serious one, almost resembling Aureliano with those furrowed brows and lips fixed into a tight line. Altogether, it looked like he was a wearing a mask that was unyielding to any other emotions that might be bubbling about just below the surface.

“Do you need help?” Alvalar asked firmly.

Even if it was going to hurt and be a disturbing thing to witness, it was something that needed to be done. His shirt was covered with mud and if he continued to expose his wound to that, the rate of infection would surely increase and it wouldn’t just be his hand that would be taken away from him. It could be his entire forearm, or arm. Losing anything more would render him a disgrace, unfit to be an archer, but also a baker as well. “No,” Karollus replied. “I can do it.”

The Navasarian Weapon Wielder’s bodyguard felt his nervousness begin to harden as he used his good hand to slowly pull away the linen against the raw muscle and hard blood—

A sharp pang shot from his amputated limb. It felt like part of a scab had just been yanked off all in one go, and all of that hardened blood began to flow once more with the freeness of a raging river. The porcelain hue of bone peaked through as well; though it was but a nub, it was still sharp like the point of a dagger.

With his heart frantic, his eyes turned watery as he was rendered frozen as he gazed at the horrible sight.

Don’t stop, Karollus told himself, suppressing his fears as best he could. Keep going.

Breathing heavily helped ease a little of the pain that evolved in magnitude as he pulled away more and more of the bloody linen that clung to him like frosting to cake. By the time he was done, his hand was left trembling and blood gushed outward, coating his dark skin in its sticky embrace one more.

“Good job, Karollus,” Alvalar praised. He tucked Inferno under his armpit as he tug on his own long sleeve, but his strength wasn’t enough to tear it free. Biting his lips, he tried again with more force. A painful groan escaped his lips when he was finally able to rip the cloth from its stitching. Wasting no time, he promptly wrapped the Karollus’ wound in the cloth for as many rounds he was able to. It was growing tighter and more secure, but it was losing its speed. “Sorry,” he apologized. “My damn shoulder is holding me back.”

“Do you need some bandaging too?” Karollus asked. “I can help. I can tie it for you.”

“No,” the Navasarian Weapon Wielder replied. “At least not now. You are what’s most important right now.”

The baker’s son found himself smiling softly at the sweetness and sincerity of his former lover’s words. “Thanks, but you’re important too, y’know.”

Alvalar simply shook his head in disagreement as he continued bandaging, not looking up from his work.

Not this again, Karollus thought, suspiring an exasperated sigh that had the weight of a boulder behind it. Just like everyone, Alvalar had his own flaws – constantly putting himself down and then needing constant appraisal for when he did something that was honest to Nakoi impressive, like he didn’t believe in himself even though he just did it with his own two hands. This lack of confidence was tolerable at first, but even after these four years of reassurance, it always managed to rear its ugly head until it got too tiring to deal with…

Why can’t he just accept that he is important? That he is good enough? Why does he constantly have to seek out other’s approval? Out of all of the years of Karollus knew Alvalar, he could never find a clear answer to any of those questions. If he asked it was due to him constantly being bullied by Alexi and his gang, Alvalar would simply try to dodge the question and change the topic. It slowly made Karollus more and more furious. Not only at Alvalar for not trusting him, but at himself as well for not being strong enough to suffer from burned out and just breaking up with him out of the blue like that.

When Alvalar finally finished bandaging up Karollus’ wound, he looked around as though he was searching for something. His close-set eyes grew wide for a moment and he paused. He immediately tore off his work jerkin and wrapped it around the fresh bandages as tightly as he could. When it was as tight as one could make it, he clipped it closed with a few buttons. “Better?”

Karollus glanced at his wound. Despite being a bundle of cloth, it was sufficient in what it needed to do. He applied pressure to it, and despite hurting, it was no longer coated in mud or other infectant material. He turned his attention back to Alvalar and gave a slight nod.

“Good,” the metalsmith apprentice said. He smiled as though he was relieved that his plan actually worked. Then, he looked out and placed Inferno back into his hand, resuming its role as a mobility aid. He tightened his hold around Karollus’ waist. “Come on. We’ve got to get down. Little by little, okay?”

“Okay,” the baker’s son answered meekly.

Karollus glanced down at the tree’s roots and how they curved and ran along one another. If they miscalculated, they would tumble down and all that work to stop the bleeding would’ve been for nothing.

He clung to Alvalar for safety, and the Navasarian Weapon Wielder patted his hand over Karollus’, comforting his worries. Being this close to Alvalar, Karollus heard his former lover gulp down a mouthful of saliva as though he was scared for his own safety, but he didn’t show it on his face.

Misu purred a little, as though to encourage the two to take their first steps downward. “Come on you two,” she seemed to say, even pulling slightly on their pants. “Just don’t go too fast and you’ll be fine.”

Karollus let out a careful sigh as they slowly but surely descending downward. It was bumpy and a bit slippery due to all the moss that covered the surface of the roots, but in the end, Misu was right. They didn’t go too fast and they ended up just fine.

When they ended up on solid ground, Misu praised the two by weaving herself between their legs and licking their fingers. Karollus was the first one to laugh, and then Alvalar followed along.

They sighed a bit after their mirth had subsided. Alvalar turned his attention over to Esperanza. Although the fire had been extinguished, he still looked at it like it was still raging.

Karollus looked onward, eying the village of his birth with uneasiness that hit him at his very core. The smell of smoke filled his lungs as he looked at the darkness that shrouded the palenque. Not even the light of the moon could shine through it, not revealing even a glimpse of the destruction and death that occurred as though she was trying to protect him from the truth.

Are Elé and Elá safe and sound? His mind began to race. Or are they on the verge of death due to trying to protect Esperanza with the Dragon Bow and the Ice Bow? Did Elá have the baby ripped from her womb? What if Kyrah had gotten hurt trying to protect Keian? What if Granny had been burned by that blasting sand? He could feel his heart confine itself to the horrible thoughts that plagued his mind, making himself more anxious as to why laid in ahead.

With only the moon as a source of light, Alvalar returned his attention back to Karollus. Although he looked tired, any more other emotion was locked behind that mask of his, not strong enough to break free. He glanced at the ground at first, as though he was wondering about how to form his words properly, but quickly found the strength to look at Karollus in the eye. His own eyes solid with resolve. “We have to leave, Karollus.”

The declaration was like a shot through the heart. “B-but what about my family?” The baker’s son hissed. “My Elá is very pregnant, or have you forgotten?! We can’t just leave them! It’s like you think they aren’t worthy of checking on! I’m sorry, Al, but my family needs me! Aureliano needs us! He’s our best friend! Not only that, but your mother needs you too!”

“We aren’t leaving them,” Alvalar retorted.

“Oh, really? Then is ‘abandoning them’ a better word?”

“Don’t start, Karollus,” Alvalar growled. “I don’t want to have an argument about this right now.”

“I don’t want to have argument about this either, but we can’t just leave them. You might be able to, but I won’t.”

“DON’T MAKE ME OUT TO BE THE VILLAIN HERE,” Alvalar cried out, balling up his fists. Steam began to consume his palms, hotter than they’ve even been before. His brows furrowed tightly in anger like he was ready to punch him in the face, but he quickly looked away before he did anything he would regret. His eyes fell upon the darkness and the anger that consumed him in that brief moment was extinguished. His expression softened, his lips trembling despite trying to keep them under control and his eyes were not doubt watery.

Smoke… Karollus remembered.

Alvalar let out a hoarse breath, hot and humid. Trying to pull the rein in on his emotions, he wiped his eyes and took a deep breath. “I know it sounds heartless, but it’s got to be done. We must leave, at least for the night. I promise we’ll come back in the morning. Those people who are in league with Huǒ-Hè Zhuó, those people who wear the identical snake-mask as her, are after me. That’s the only reason as to why they’re here in the first place. If we leave, they’ll leave everyone else alone.”

“But what if your plan doesn’t work? What if they don’t leave and start using their blasting sand again, hurting more and more people? Have you forgotten that everything surround Esperanza is foliage, perfect for kindling a fire and keeping it going?”

“AND YOU DON’T THINK I DON’T KNOW THAT?!” Alvalar shot back in almost explosion-like anger. His attempt to calm himself had gone awry. He balled up his fists once again, but didn’t do anything with them as he continued to speak, “I CARE ABOUT ALL OF THEM, BUT CAN WE ABANDON EVERYTHING AND BECOME RASH IF IT MEANS THAT WE CAN PROTECT A FEW PEOPLE?! NO! IT’S A FUTILE EFFORT AND I WON’T STAND FOR IT. I ESPECIALLY WON’T ALLOW YOU TO THROW AWAY YOUR LIFE INTO A SUICIDE MISSION.”

“AND WHY NOT?” Karollus yelled b, all fired up and angry from being yelled at. “IT’S MY LIFE, AND I GET TO DO WHAT I WANT WITH IT!”

“BECAUSE YOU MEAN EVERYTHING TO ME!” Then there was a long pause as though Alvalar finally got out what he wanted to say, and he looked downward. His shoulders shook as he sniffled and cried.

It took a few minutes for Karollus to calm down. He was still pumped, but after he took a deep breath and thought carefully about Alvalar’s words, he decided that fighting like this was stupid and more likely turned them into a pair of sitting pufferfish-geese.

Now that he was calmer, the sounds of Alvalar’s weeping became much louder. Being free of anger allowed him to hear things clearly with an equally clear mind, and he didn’t like what he was hearing. Not one bit.

Karollus gestured the Navasarian Weapon Wielder to look up at him. When the two locked gazes, the baker’s son found that the gash on his cheek was deeper than it previously seemed, having the whites of his upper teeth peak through. With all that crisp air seeping into his wound, it would have been painful to just speak, let alone scream and shout. It was amazing that Alvalar was able to endure all of it. But that was nothing compared to that glassy look that found themselves unshakable from those chocolate irises of his. When Alvalar’s tears swelled and cascaded down his cheeks, getting Karollus’ own fingers wet, he felt his heart breaking.

I caused this, he lamented as he caressed his former lover’s cheek, careful as to not touch the giant cut. Me and my big, stubborn mouth.

Misu tried to comfort her owner by lick his fingers again, hoping that’ll make him laugh like before, but it didn’t work. Calibers didn’t like feeling powerless, especially the females. The calibress size-shifted down to her false form and leaped onto her owner’s shoulder, licking away the tears as they came.

Alvalar’s tawny complexion turned a tinge red while those trails of tears grew more and more, even faster than Misu could contend with. Seemingly finding his calibress’ persistent licks annoying in a time like this, he placed Misu down on the floor, but quickly gave her a pat before returning his attention back to Karollus. “Just…” his tenor voice was wispy and sob-like as though he was begging with all of his being. “Just listen to me. I know that it’s hard for you to accept something as extreme as this, and I would agree with your sentiment on any other day, but… but I don’t want to lose you like I lost my dad. I don’t know if I can take that all in one day. If we stay and help, there is no telling what will happen. If those snake-mask people are laying there in the darkness, we’ll just be falling into their trap.” Not caring as to the pain that his left shoulder brought with each subtle movement his corresponding arm made, Alvalar interwove his fingers with the hand that Karollus caressed his cheek with, holding it tight in his grasp. He then brought Karollus’ hand to his lips and placed a gentle yet meaningful kiss upon it. “You’re the last person I want dead, Karollus. Yo te amo.”

Rue contorted Karollus’ face, and his heart was no different. It was like he was stabbed with a razor-sharp knife multiple times. He wrapped his arms around Alvalar’s stocky frame, holding him as tight and as close as one could. Tears swelled and slid down his cheek. “I don’t want to lose you too, Alvalar,” he confessed into the other’s ear. “I’m going to protect you, but I’m going to see to it that my family is safe as well.”

A lone tree branch snapped in the distance. Against the quietness of night, it was as clear as day.

Growling with a sense of suspicion, Misu grew ten-times her size and was ready to chase after whatever, or whoever, made that sound. Karollus released his hold on his former lover who quickly raised his hand and his calibress obeyed. Not yet, Alvalar told her with just a glance. Look and listen before you recklessly attack someone.

“…see him, Safyre?” a male voice with a wispy Tilithian accent mumbled softly. The first part of his question was beyond the reach of sound, but the second and most important part was a little clearer and closer.

“No,” Safyre replied, her voice thick with a softer Athaese accent that sounded like she hailed from Ethlah just like Elé and Elá. It was like the ocean’s tide ran gently against the southern beaches of Athesan before harshly recoiling back into the sea. “But you can never too safe, Kerl. You must go out and check every possibility for yourself.”

In the midst of all that chatter, Alvalar quickly wiped away his tears and grabbed Karollus’ arm. His grip was tight. He was not going to let go no matter what. His eyes moved from Karollus to Misu and back again. Then, he pursed his lips and jutted his chin out. Get on, he said through the gesturing and let go of his arm.

Not wanting to start another argument and give away their position, the baker’s son begrudgingly climbed atop Misu’s back. Alvalar got on behind him, making sure he had no avenue of escape. He weaved Inferno around Karollus’ shoulder and placed it in his bodyguard’s left hand – his good, yet non-dominant hand.

“Keep her safe,” the Metalsmith Apprentice whispered in Karollus’ ear with a softer, gentler tone than the baker’s son had initially expected.

As soon as the Weapon Wielder of Navasar grabbed ahold of his calibress’ fur on the side of her neck and made a subtle clicking noise with his tongue, Misu was off and ran south, farther into the dark zahrah jungle.

Zahrah phased through Karollus one after another, keeping him constantly cold. He hated it. No matter how much he shivered, it did not help. Even his hairy arms didn’t aid him all that much. Not to mention that the roots that Misu either leaped over entirely or climbed over made the ride bumpier.

Ugh! Vomit rose from deep within the baker’s son’s gut and up his esophagus, however, he shook off the urge and forced it back down.

Not now.

Despite all his complaints, however, Alvalar kept Karollus from falling out from either side, his well-built arms acted like reigns on a cheetah-horse that kept the rider within the saddle. Each time their arms touched, it brought warmth back to Karollus’ body and made him feel safe.

How nostalgic…

However, the delight that consumed his heart did not last for long. He sighed and his heart began to ache once again, unsure as to whether he made the right decision about the breakup, about following along and not staying back to protect his family, about everything…

It’s for the best, his brain told him. But what if you were wrong? His heart almost immediately responded. What if all your relationships, all your loved ones, are as good as dead thanks to you? What about the baby? What about Elá? Elé? What if you just made the biggest mistake of your life? Will you truly be able to live it down?

I don’t need this right now! Karollus’s own thoughts broke through. He shook his head and shoved the other, more taxing thoughts away.

His grip on Inferno tightened and he looked over Alvalar’s shoulder. Everything was pitch-black, not even the moon managed to shine its orange glow through the jungle’s thick foliage. It was strange how Misu even knew where she was going. Even the subtle light that the zahrah gave off as they rode the wind was not enough for him to make out his hometown. But the smell of smoke still lingered in the air, however fading, as though signaling to him that he was on the right track.

He glanced at his left hand, where his golden Ul’dalir beads laid, then back at Esperanza’s general direction.

What I need right now is prayer.

Hope.

Even if he did not own her beads or regularly present offerings to her, Karollus still called upon the Patron Ancestor of Family anyway. “Eridesi, I realize that I do not have the privilege of speaking to you, but I humbly ask for your audience anyway,” he mumbled below his breathe. “I ask for you to look after my family, the whole eight of them, including Kesh and the baby, and protect them in my stead until the sun raises on the morrow.”