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Through the Night

"Shit."

Matt huddled in the corner of the supply carriage while the conflagration before him crept closer to his legs.

He wished he hadn't taken this stupid job. He was tasked with transporting a bunch of contained fire elementals, but one of the Asuran containment fields had evidently not been quite as "assuredly safe" as he had been told.

Matt's vision was engulfed by red, the fire swallowing the wooden box around him. Hs lips were parched dry, and sweat drenched his face as the heat from the fire scorched his body.

He passed beyond regret now. He had already listed out his regrets in order: he regretted not mastering his attunement to water, the elementalist barely able to conjure a useful fog to hide in; he regretted sleeping behind the cargo where the wall that trapped him now had made him feel safer than sleeping by the opening of the carriage; he regretted accepting this job and doing it alone; and for the moment he even regretted joining the Durmond Priory, the organization that led him to his death in a fire.

Matt let out one last exasperated sigh before he knew he could no longer draw breath. It was a shame, he thought, to die in such a mundane way. If he'd joined the Vigil, he might've at least died in an epic battle.

He slid his hand into his pocket and grasped the sapphire stone he knew was still in there. The smooth stone assured him of nothing but a life beyond death, but he would still have to pass through the great veil.

More air entered his lungs, much to his surprise. In fact, the air was getting less ashy and vile, and for a moment he thought the Old Gods were answering his silent prayers.

A moving shape appeared through the inferno, a shape of a man. It grew larger and larger, and it felt as if the fire was becoming less thirsty for his flesh.

A voice burst through the crackling flames. "Hold on!"

It was a gruff, terribly rough voice, but it didn't matter to him. Someone was coming to save him. Matt held on to his sapphire stone and thanked Dwayna, though even he was unsure whether the god had answered him or not.

Then he felt it. He felt that curious liquid, a powerful healing elixir, which engineers most often employed in their tools. It was a fine mist, currently, but then he heard the voice yell out again.

"Overcharging!"

The mist turned to water, but Matt felt as if he had been touched by the hands of Dwayna herself. The fires around the scorched woodwork softened considerably after the blast of elixir, and then he saw the shadow reach out to him.

"Take my hand!"

The nearly unconscious human did so, and it was at the last second when he noticed that he was not reaching for a hand at all, but rather a paw.

His eyes would tell him no more, and their lids closed of their own accord. His brain promptly shut off, letting the healing elixir clear out his ash-filled lungs while he slept peacefully. The last thing he felt was the unusual sensation of being on top of someone's shoulder, hanging onto something half covered in leather armor and the other half with fur.

---

"Wake up."

Matt did. Not enthusiastically, but he did manage to force his eyelids apart.

"Do humans always sleep this long?"

The man blinked, wiping away a build-up of crust and ash, and then he saw the figure who had rescued him from the carriage fire.

He let out a little yelp of surprise when he saw a charr sitting lazily in front of him, his pale blue eyes staring out at nothing.

"Oh, umm, hi, no, umm, sorry this is somewhat unexpected," Matt said, his arms flustering as they tried to decipher what his brain wanted them to do.

"Relax," the charr said.

Matt decided that was an excellent piece of advice, so he took a deep breath and settled back down.

The man's eyes scanned the charr, and he noted that he was not wearing any mark of the Priory. His head was still rather scrambled from the fire, so he couldn't form any coherent thoughts. He did manage to sit up, at least.

"Erm, hey there," Matt said.

"Hey yourself."

"W-what happened?"

He grunted, a rough and feral sound coming from a charr. "I rescued you from a fire. Remember?"

"Yeah," Matt said. "Umm, hi. You're a charr?"

"A brilliant observation." The charr snorted. "I can see why the Priory is held in such high esteem."

"Err, well, sorry I'm still a little dazed. You're not Priory, though, I think?"

"Nope."

"So...who are you?"

"Name's Dal."

"I'm Matthew. Matt."

Dal nodded politely. "Matt."

The human fumbled as his brain was finally beginning to catch up to current events.

"Oh," he said. "Thank you."

Dal shrugged. "I hope there'll be a reward?"

Matt was almost rendered speechless by the greedy remark, but then he remembered he was still alive thanks to the charr, so he might as well acknowledge that a reward was well-deserved. By the looks of the Dal's tattered clothing, it appeared as if he needed the coin anyway.

"Sure," the human said. "I'm a Magister of the Priory, so just come with me to my base of operations and I'll make sure you get paid."

The charr simply grunted.

"So where are we?" Matt asked. "And you have no symbols upon your clothing. Are you a gladium or with the Order of Whispers?"

"I am gladium. You're in my tent. We're a few feet away from your burnt carriage."

Matt sagged his head a bit, sad that he could not call upon his Pact ties with the Order of Whispers for any favors. At least this particular gladium had not possessed the mindset of a charr from before the time of the dragons, and he counted it lucky that he had saved him at all and was even willing to talk to him. "Ah," the human said, "that means we're still a day away from base. You're willing to travel, I presume?"

"As long as gold is at the end of the road."

"So it shall, my friend."

For a few seconds after, they stared at each other, trying to fit together a profile of each other.

Matt noticed the charr's unkempt fur, the sorry state of his clothing, and the grimy color of his rather long horns. He'd definitely seen better days, the human thought, and he must've been wandering around as a gladium for a very long time.

Dal's first impression of the flummoxed human was not particularly magnificent either. The man was a scholar, but he appeared to be rather scatterbrained. His robes were slightly burnt, but they were clearly those of a high-class member of the Durmand Priory. Which meant, at the very least, that he'd be getting several silvers and maybe even a gold piece or two for saving him.

Matt cleared his throat after he thought too much time had passed. "Is First Haven still within sight?"

The charr shook his head. "No, we're far east enough now. Where are you headed?"

"A Priory camp. Quite a bit north from our main base of operations, but still in Lornar's Pass. I take it most of the cargo burned up?"

"It did. Some boxes managed to make it out unscathed, though."

"Oh, good. I'd rather not have showed up with nothing at all."

Dal shrugged, his only main concern being his reward. "Let me know when you're ready to go."

"Sure thing," Matt said. "Do you have a carriage outside?"

"No. Just a cart. We're walking."

"That'll be a chore, and it'll be rather cold once we approach the Pass. We'll walk to the nearest outpost and I'll hire us a carriage and have a dolyak pull us through."

The charr grunted apathetically. "Whatever suits you as long as you're paying."

"Okay," Matt said. "I suppose we should start walking then!"

"Yeah. Let me take down the tent and stuff everything back into my cart."

Dal crawled out of the tent and started cleaning up their campsite. Matt followed out and saw how the charr had lived so long as a gladium.

There was the cart in front of the tent, a little wagon that the charr probably used to haul all his stuff. There was plenty of stuff too, judging from what Matt could see.

The perimeter of the campsite was guarded by five rifle turrets, and there was a rocket turret set up along the three rifle turrets that faced away from the road. The charr engineer's rifle was already in the cart, and he was going around the camp to fold down the turrets to toss into it.

"Go fetch your boxes," Dal said, pointing towards the blackened carriage stuck dead on the road. "I'll clean up here and we'll be off in a pinch."

Matt ran towards the remains of his delivery job and recovered a pair of unscorched boxes. The rest were too far damaged, and he knew Magister Sarag would chew him out for losing most of the cargo despite the fact that it was the shipper's failure to contain the fire elementals properly that was the real problem.

"Damnit," he said, "Asuran tech really blows things up spectacularly when they fail."

Sarag, herself being Asuran, would naturally blame him for doing something to cause the containment fields to catastrophically collapse, but Matt knew she'd go after the shipping company when he wasn't there to see her--that woman had more pride than a pure-bred charr from the heart of the Black Citadel.

He carried the two small boxes in his arms as he walked back, and he couldn't help but see the purposeless way that Dal moved, lethargy and artificial age painting his movements with sorrow. Matt thought it was likely that he had been such a charr once, proud and dutiful, but now he had lost everything that had meant anything to him.

Such gladium who did not join the Vigil, the Durmand Priory, the Order of Whispers, the Lionguard, or some other cross-race organization which replaced their Legion warband became like him, lost and wounded.

Matt felt his heart sink a little as he approached his rescuer. It was more than likely that he probably considered himself dead to his race, if his conversations with his charr friends in the Priory were accurate.

The charr had been kind enough to save him from certain death. Pity made him want to help him more than gold could. But he knew he was still charr, and it would be likely that he would not want his help, especially because he was human.

"Bah," Matt muttered to himself, "I don't even know if he's like that."

By the time he returned, Dal had already stuffed all of the turrets into his cart. Slow he might've appeared, but he was efficient.

He helped the charr take down the tent and throw it into the cart too. Folding down the tent had gotten him unusually close to his rescuer, and he couldn't help but notice how...handsome his particular lifesaver had been despite the outer layer of neglect on him.

The charr had a rather lithe build compared to the warriors or guardians he'd seen in the Priory, though he was nowhere as thin as a scholar. His eyes were a soft blue, a rare thing in contrast to the typical shades of feral orange, and his teeth were extraordinarily small for a charr--they almost weren't visible at all outside his mouth.

Gruff, tall, and handsome--Matt found himself gravitating closer towards the charr, his subconscious trying to get a feel for his fur, but his saner conscious mind pulled him back before he got too close for the charr to notice.

He saw the engineer's eyes shift, so it was a little too late.

"Fold this way," Dal said, gesturing with his part of the tent.

"Oh, right," Matt said, somewhat relieved.

When they finished packing the cart, Matt had expected his new companion to just pull it himself, but instead the charr pulled out a cube from his worn tunic's pocket.

It was purple and humming with a faint glow, a clear sign of asuran technology. He set the cube on the ground, and it unfolded in that magical asuran way, with the bits of the box reforming into a new entity. When it finished assembling itself, it turned into a golem.

"Huh," Matt said, "usually charr hate asuran technology. Especially charr engineers."

Dal shrugged. "You're not the first person I've ever rescued. I got it from an asuran I'd saved from one of their interdimensional reactors blowing."

Matt chuckled. "Another victim of asuran tech gone wrong."

The engineer grinned. "The little goblins try too hard. Charr tech is tried and true, tougher and safer."

"I'd agree. I've heard charr tanks and engineering did great things in Orr."

"And they'll do it again with the other dragons."

"No doubt."

The golem straddled itself between the pull logs on the cart and grabbed onto them. It started walking back to the path, and we followed.

"Still," Dal said, "I won't refuse any pay. It was all he could come up with, and I didn't mind."

Matt kept along with him at a steady pace. "At least it's just a golem. It's not likely to horribly explode. I'm always afraid that'll happen when I walk into an asura gate."

"You're not alone."

"Thanks."

Dal snorted. This human was more likeable than all the others he had met.

"There should be a farm about an hour east," Matt said. "Let's stop for some food before heading on east. I'll pay."

Dal raised a brow. Perhaps he would like the human. "Appreciated," he said. "I've got some apples if you're hungry now."

Matt's eyes shifted left and right. "Apples? Why do you have apples?"

"I always keep a sack in the cart. They're, well, no it's a personal reason."

"Oh. Alright."

Dal raised his other brow. He'd never gotten this kind of respect from anyone, and it was so much more unexpected coming from a human.

"If it's not too much trouble," Matt said, "I would like one."

The engineer nodded and told the golem to slow down. He walked alongside the cart while he dug into the deepest parts to pull out a rugged and sack. As he reached inside the sack for an apple, he took a few glances at Matthew and debated whether or not he'd talk with him.

Most people didn't care to even ask for his story. They'd just see a dirty charr, a worthless gladium, and they'd want him gone as soon as possible. He had to work to live, and the only generosity he'd ever received before was from a bunch of rather naïve sylvari.

The human respected him. He'd reciprocate.

Dal handed the elementalist an apple, and he took a bite out of it.

"Wow," Matt said. "It's good. No offense, but I was somewhat expecting it to be half rotten."

"It's understandable," Dal said, acknowledging the sorry state of his whole self. "The reason why I always keep a good batch in the cart is because of honor."

"Honor?"

"For an old bandmate. Before I became gladium. I do it to honor him."

"With apples?"

Dal nodded. "They were his favorite thing. Even when Meatoberfest rolled around, and everyone was busy getting drunk in Butcher's Block, he'd be having apple cider instead."

"That's so sweet," Matt said. His voice had grown lighter and weaker.

"What?"

"Your bandmate must've meant a lot to you."

"He did. He was the only one who gave two wurms about me. I'm still looking for him."

"What happened to him?"

"He became gladium. There was an accident involving an explosion, and he got booted from Iron Legion. I should've done something to help him, but I was a runt. Useless. He was the only one who'd kept me from getting too beat up by the rest of my bandmates. They booted me about a year after he was gone."

"That's awful. How long have you been looking for him?"

"Ten years."

Matt nearly choked. He couldn't imagine how terrible it must've been to search for someone for ten years and yield no result. It made him feel even worse to know that Dal was a rather nice person despite his appearance, and he wanted to help him as much as he could.

"Hey," the human said, "maybe he's joined the Priory? I can check for you when we get to camp. I might even be able to dig up a member list for all the Pact members."

"Really? That would be wonderful."

"It's the least I could do. I mean, it's nice to not be a bunch of ashes right now, and I have you to thank for that."

Dal never thought he'd ever thank a human, but he did.

---

Dal had always been a runt. In his warband, he had been the smallest and the weakest. He was constantly made fun of because of his tiny, nearly invisible fangs. Tybalt had been the only charr in all of Iron Legion to care about him. He was the only reason that he had anything to compare to at all against all the ridicule and torture his bandmates put upon him.

He wasn't even that great of an engineer. He could fix a turret, depending on how damaged it was, but there was no way he could build anything useful from scratch. Tybalt was the complete opposite. He'd made his own rifle and was respected because of his top-tier engineering skills, though he was in other aspects much like himself--neither particularly physically strong nor attractive in charr society.

Tybalt was literally one in a million, the only one in a million to ever be a friend to him.

After ten years of traveling, Dal was happy to know there were now two in a million.

Matthew had stopped at Junction Haven and rented out a carriage like he said he would, and they were on their way to his Priory camp which was now half a day away.

They were resting inside the carriage, the wooden floorboards lined with bland but utilitarian sheets which dulled most of the creaking sounds as they were pulled along by a dolyak.

Matthew sat close to the opening with the drapes furled around him, half watching the road and half pondering what Dal would do after he found his friend. He'd go off looking for him, of course, but if he wasn't in the Priory then they'd have to go to their main base to access the Pact's list of members.

He was sure Sarag would let him go if he asked. Or groveled.

The weather had turned cold as soon as they had departed Junction Haven, and snow now began to fall. Matt caught a few of the flakes in his hand, the chilly powder biting into his palm. The Shiverpeaks had always been cold, but now not even the longest summer could bring a sliver of warmth to the mountains, the land frozen by Jormag.

The Pact had taken down a Claw of Jormag, but the elder dragon himself was still far from being slain. Destiny's Edge had yet to decide on their next course of action, but it was good to know that no one else who died in the war against the dragons would rise again as Zhaitan's servant.

A morbid thought crossed Matt's mind as they delved deeper into Jormag's territory. What if his friend was dead?

Dal had nowhere to go, no one to help him.

Another thought crossed his mind. He was showing a lot of affection for someone he had just met. But he did save his life, and he knew, academically, about a psychological effect where people became uncharacteristically altruistic towards someone who had saved them from certain death. Knight in shining armor syndrome, he thought it might've been nicknamed, though in his case it was an engineer in raggedy leather and fur.

Yet, his feelings were not without base. Dal was incredibly amiable, even more than the accepting charr in the Priory, a trait not often found in his species, especially those who have not devoted themselves to one of the open-minded organizations of Tyria.

He sighed, his breath forming a fine sheet of white in front of him. He didn't know what would happen after checking the Priory lists, but he had decided on one thing. He'd offer Dal a place to live if he wanted it. Heck, he could even get him membership into the Priory if the charr was willing to stay with him long-term.

That would've been really nice, he thought. He caught a large pile of snow in his hand while he imagined what Dal would look like in a brand new set of scholar robes, but soon the snow stung him too much to handle in spite of his fire attunement. He whipped his hand to throw it off, and then he decided to head back inside.

He had figured out how to program Dal's golem to take them to the coordinates of his camp, and the dolyak was following it. He hadn't trusted the dolyak, so he had watched for at least an hour to make sure the system was fully autonomous. He was now content with the intelligence of the animal, leaving it to follow the golem without his input.

Immediately upon entering the carriage, Matt reached out to hold Dal's hand.

The charr swatted it away despite his body trembling. "What are you doing?" he asked, his usual gruff voice strained.

"Sorry," Matt said. "I just assumed your fur would be enough to keep you warm. Give me your hand so I use my magic to heat you up."

"I'm not cold."

"Yes, you are. You're shivering. Heavily."

"I'm not cold."

"Dal, come on. Please let me help you."

Two in a million. "Fine."

Matt took hold of one of his paws. "By Dwayna's tears, you're freezing!"

"I'm not freezing because of a false god."

Matt frowned. Charr knew that the human gods existed, unlike the asurans or the sylvari, but they believed they were immensely powerful beings that they should strive to defeat. That was what they were taught, and Matt couldn't fault him for what he was raised to believe in.

"Maybe not," the elementalist said, "but you are freezing nonetheless. Come on, huddle up against me."

Dal was reluctant at first, but he'd let the human touch him once he felt the heat radiated by his fire attunement. "It never gets this cold in Ascalon," he said.

"You don't have to act all tough-guy to me," Matt said. "I know you can tear me up with one arm tied behind your back if you wanted to. There's nothing to prove."

Dal sighed. "Sorry. We don't like being vulnerable. Charr, I mean."

"I understand."

The engineer grunted.

Several seconds passed.

"Thank you," Dal said. "Thank you for doing all of this."

Matt smiled and let his warmth continue to flow into his friend. "You're welcome. You know, it's kind of funny. One of my ancestors was a famous monk. I think his name was Mhenlo or something. I'd always expected to be a fantastic water elementalist, but I turned out to be a fire mage."

"Your gods are a fickle bunch," Dal said. "But I don't want to argue about it if you don't."

Matt let out a shallow sigh. "It's true, though. Few humans would argue that the gods have not abandoned us. But I don't believe they'll ever desert us completely."

"That's an idealistic view."

"And a realistic view would have us kneel before the dragons like the Sons of Svanir. We shouldn't be able to defeat them, but here we are with Zhaitan slain."

"You have a point, I suppose."

Matt rubbed his hands over all four of the charr's ears. "Want to know my view?"

The charr grunted, showing his ambivalence. Most humans became really defensive when talking about their gods, but here was one that kept his head cool. It was really an oddity, but Matt had been all sorts of odd since he'd met him, and they were all the good kind.

"Well," the man said, "I think the gods have sewn their powers into the world, making them a latent part of life. Take, for example, the elixir you engineers like to use."

"What about them?" Dal asked, interested in what he had to say about one of his most useful tools.

"Hasn't it ever striked you as extraordinary that such an abundant liquid has so many healing properties? It can heal severe wounds, mend crippled bones, cure most forms of temporary blindness, and even put out fires and cure burns."

"No," Dal said, "I've never really given it a second thought. I just use it."

"Well, I think it's one of the ways Dwayna has chosen to manifest herself instead of directly through the old monks."

"Huh. I suppose you have a solid argument."

"Yeah, I know. Still an idealistic view, I guess."

"You deserve to keep it. Don't let me poison your views. I've just been gladium for far too long."

Matt rubbed his hand along the charr's back fur, making sure no part of him was left cold. "I can't imagine what I'd turn into if I was alone that long. You're doing much better than I'd be."

The charr snorted. "It's a funny thing. At first, you enjoy it. You enjoy the freedom. But soon your freedom becomes your isolation."

Dal pulled the human closer to him, and it wasn't just because he was cold.

Matt let himself sink lower into the charr's embrace, and they stayed together for warmth the rest of the way to the Priory camp, though both of them wished it was more than just a hug.

---

"That's it? Two boxes of trinkets?"

Matt waved his hands defensively. Magister Sarag could get vicious when she was angry. "I'm sorry! It wasn't my fault the containment field failed!"

"No," she yelled, "but you could've saved more than this!"

"I could've died and you wouldn't have even known until the delivery was two days late!"

The asuran frowned and placed a palm on her forehead. "Go into the command tent. Search the directory for your friend's bandmate or whatever you were going to do. I'm going to write the shipper a strongly worded letter. You're on leave until I get you a new assignment."

"Thank you, Magister," Matt said.

She was already on her way into her own tent and waved him off.

Matt gestured towards Dal and chuckled. "See? Told you she'd get mad, storm off, and point her anger at the right target."

"Yes. I thought for sure she was going to attack you, though."

"Nah, she was just being Sarag." He pointed at the barracks tent. "Come along then, let me pay you and then we can head into the command tent."

Matt had only been gone a week, but he was a bit irked when he saw that his bed and chest had been moved. It wasn't unexpected considering the temporary nature of the barracks, but it still bothered him that someone had touched his things without his permission.

Regardless, his chest was still locked and the contents were all unperturbed. He dug out a pouch of coins and handed it to his rescuer.

Dal took it gratefully.

"Should be about two gold in there." He took off his robe, threw it carelessly onto his bed, and reached into his pant's pocket to pull out a blue stone pendant. "I also want you to have this."

"What is it?"

"A family heirloom, I guess. Passed down for generations, that kind of thing. It's supposed to be a pendant infused with Dwayna's blessing. I'd guess someone used it a long time ago already, but I want you to have it as a reminder that you'll never be alone."

"What? Shouldn't something that valuable be passed down by you?"

Matt smirked. "Nah. Not going to happen. I'm not into women."

"Oh." Dal's eyes shifted a bit, and his fur hid his skin flushing. "Well, in that case, I'd be honored to have it."

"You don't mind that it's connected to Dwayna?"

"No. It's connected to you, and that's far more important."

"I'm glad." Matt gave the pendant to him and pulled out a set of winter Priory robes, thickened with extra wool and layers. He put it on, allowing him to release his focus on fire magic, and guided Dal out to the command tent where he could get his own set of winter robes so he wouldn't have to stay near a camp fire all day.

There were no other charr in the camp at the moment, but there were a few spare robes which fit him. He put it on and followed Matt to the Priory directory. The command tent was mostly empty aside from two scholars who were performing an experiment in the far corner, and he guessed most everyone was out doing what the Priory was known to do: search for ancient artifacts.

The list was kept in a book which seemed to update by itself, words inked by some magic, and it gave a quick summary of what each member of the Priory was doing.

Dal looked over Matt's shoulder as he flipped open the book. He saw a lot of names listed as deceased, and his heart grew heavy.

"Ahem," Matt said, "what was your bandmate's name?"

"Tybalt," Dal said. "Tybalt Leftpaw."

The human's eyes furrowed. "That name sounds oddly familiar. Let me see."

Hope rose in Dal's heart.

Matt kept whispering the name to himself as he flipped through the book and looked for people named Tybalt. "Tybalt Leftpaw...Tybalt Aran, on duty, Tybalt Bolsh on standby, Tybalt Coroush deceased, Tybalt Duran on Pact duty...Tybalt Leftpaw, Tybalt Leftpaw, why does that name sound so familiar?"

Dal couldn't tell if that was a good thing or a bad thing, but he had no choice but to lean towards good. "Have you seen it before?"

"I think I have, but where? Oh! Oh, oh no no no, I'm so sorry, I'm so sorry Dal. I remember why I know his name. He was at Claw Island."

The engineer heard his tone grow grim, and his fears were realized.

Matt cleared his throat. "He was one of the three representatives of the three orders of Tyria. They all...well they all sacrificed their lives to let news reach Lion's Arch of Claw Island's demise. He died a hero."

Matt felt the charr's warmth retreat from behind him.

"I'm sorry," the man said. "I'm so sorry."

Dal walked over to a bench and sat down. Matt sat down on one opposite of him.

The charr's shoulders sagged as he stared at the ground. "Deep down," he said somberly, "I always knew this was a possibility. I never believed it would happen."

Matt had lost friends in Orr, but he couldn't fathom the overwhelming hurt the engineer must've been feeling now. His living friends had helped him cope with his loss, but Dal had nobody he could relate with, nobody to help him move on.

Nobody but him. And he couldn't come up with anything to cheer him up at the moment.

Minutes passed.

Dal hadn't moved at all.

Matt tapped his fingers on the bench and scuffed his feet on the dirt floor. "Umm, if you need anything, anything at all, just let me know, alright?"

"I-I need some time alone," Dal said.

"Okay. Anything else, just ask."

"Yeah."

Matt got up and left the charr to his thoughts.

---

Matt had left Dal alone for nearly an hour when he'd decided to try and comfort him.

When he went back into the command tent, the charr was gone. He saw a pile of things where he had been sitting and went over.

Dal had left the bag of coins. His pendant was also there, placed on top of a note. He picked it up and read it.

Dear Matthew,

Please take your items back. I won't need the gold, and you should keep your family heirloom. Thank you for showing me how generous someone can be, and I'll always remember your kindness.

Sincerely,

Dal Ironclaw

Matt didn't bother picking up his stuff and was outside looking for large footsteps in the snow before the note had even settled onto the floor after being tossed.

He found the charr's tracks, but they weren't leading to the road. He followed them before the snow could wipe them away, but as he got closer to fresher tracks he realized that he was getting close to the edge of a gorge.

Then he realized why he'd said that he wouldn't need gold anymore.

The elementalist attuned to air and ran with the wind at his back, his winter robes heavy but catching the summoned gusts like a sail.

In just a few minutes, he could see a faint line in the distance painting in the gorge. He hurried, the trail growing more and more fresh.

He wasn't too late. Dal was a few dozen feet from the edge of the ravine when he ran into earshot.

"Dal!" He screamed through the light snowfall, using his air magic to carry his voice further.

The charr turned around when he heard his voice.

Matt sighed with great relief and ran up closer until he was a respectable distance away from him, but the engineer continuously backed up until he was almost near the edge.

"Don't do this," Matt shouted.

"I have nothing left," Dal said. "Not even hope."

"Tybalt died a hero. He wouldn't want you wasting your life like this! You're not nothing! You can still fight, you can still have purpose!"

Dal looked over the edge of the cliff, and then he looked back at his two paws. He grasped them together. Two paws. Two strong arms that could still shoot a gun. Set a mine. Build a turret. He curled his mouth and shut his eyes. Tybalt had won back his honor with just one paw.

It was odd. Matt didn't want him to jump. A _human_didn't want him to jump. But he was no normal human. He had become much more to him than just a friend over their past few days together.

Funny how all the odd things he'd seen from him were good things. Maybe the world should learn how to be odd.

"Please," Matt said. "Come back."

Dal decided. He would live. He would live for him.

He stepped away from the edge.

Matt ran up to him.

Dal had been too close to doing it. His emotions bubbled against his chest, and the charr did something that would've probably gotten him booted from any Blood Legion warband.

He fell as Matt jumped to catch him, his knees completely out of strength, and he sobbed into the man's shoulder, his fluffy winterproof shoulderpads comforting him like a soft pillow would.

Matt was not caught entirely off-guard, but he was quite certain this was the first time he'd ever seen a charr cry. Feeling the engineer that had been discarded by his race weep onto his shoulder drew a tear from his own eyes.

"I know," Matt said. "I know it hurts. I've lost a lot of friends in Orr. I can't pretend to understand how much it hurts for you to lose the only person who had ever cared about you, but I want you to know someone else cares."

Dal cried for a few minutes longer, letting all the sadness he had kept bottled up because his old notions of charr pride had demanded it out into the open.

When he finished, he had only one thing to say, the same thing he had been saying for quite a while to this one and only human. "Thank you."

The man hugged him, his frizzled fur doing nothing to deter him from comforting him. "Just promise me you won't try that again."

"I won't."

"Good. Remember why Tybalt died. I had many friends who died battling Zhaitan's forces. I always remember their sacrifice. They fought to give us a chance to live. Don't waste their sacrifice."

"I will not live just for honoring my old friend," Dal said, "but also to protect the friend I have now. This I swear to you, Matthew."

"It will be a difficult task," Matt said. "There are still five Elder Dragons to take care of."

"It'll be difficult. That's why I want to join the Priory."

"I'll see it done."

They walked back to the camp together, and Dal walked with purpose for the first time in a very long time.

---

Dal had been initiated as a novice under Matt's tutelage, and their missions had been, for the most part, uneventful. Most of them had been simple deliveries like what Matt had been doing when his trainee had rescued him from his own element, though they did have to fight a marauding group of Sons of Svanir once when they were terrorizing the local trade routes in the Shiverpeaks.

Their most recent mission, however, was in a place which was the complete opposite of the Shiverpeaks.

They were supposed to pick up a new additive the sylvari had made which mixed with water to fight against the Brand's corruption of the land, but there were complications with the mixture which required further refinement, so the Priory had given them some time off in the Grove while the sylvari scientists finished working on the additive.

It wasn't often that they got paid to stay in an inn, so they relaxed as much as possible.

"This would be phenomenal," Matt said one evening a few days after they were sent. "Fighting back the Brand would let us gain a foothold over Kralkatorrik."

Dal opened the window carved into the wood of the massive hollowed tree they were staying in and sat down on the king sized bed made for Norn to be able to sleep in. "Sure, if these plants can actually get it working right before we die of old age."

Matt sat down a few feet down from him. "They can. The sylvari are really good with the nature stuff. If they can't reclaim the land, nobody can."

The charr grunted and touched the blue stone on Matt's pendant which he now wore whenever he could. "I wish your gods would come back and fix everything for us."

"I think that's the point of them leaving," Matt said. "They want us to be able to fix things ourselves. And we're doing it."

"We are. I think you've succeeded."

"At what?"

"At turning me into an idealist."

"That's a good thing, I hope?"

The charr smiled. "It is."

A melody permeated through the window, and they both turned their heads towards it.

"That voice," Matt said. "Do you hear it?"

"I do," Dal said. "What is it?"

Though shadows fall, still the stars find their way.

Matt scooted closer to him. "It's the Pale Tree. She's singing a song of hope."

Fear not this night, you will not go astray.

"It's beautiful," Dal said.

The elementalist let out a gentle chuckle. "It is. I didn't think I'd ever hear a charr call something beautiful."

"I don't think I count as a charr anymore."

"Maybe."

Matt inched closer again, this time until his pants rubbed up against Dal's. The engineer made no attempt to move away.

And you can always be strong, lift your voice with the first light of dawn.

Inspired, Matt sucked in a breath and spoke. "I have a confession," he said. "Dal, I think you're beautiful."

Before the charr could react, Matt reached an arm around him and leaned his head onto his chest.

Dal said nothing, but the sudden feeling of a furry arm wrapped around him told him all he needed to know.

Dawn's just a heartbeat away.

Matt seized the opportunity. "We've been together for a couple months now. We've grown so close since that day you rescued me. I think I love you."

Hope's just a sunrise away.

"No," Dal said. "You don't think."

Matt feared he had pushed too far and couldn't figure out what the charr had meant, but before he could say anything else, Dal's powerful arms picked him up. He kept the human firmly held while he laid himself onto his back, and then he gently dropped Matt on top of him, their heads aligned with each other's as their bodies collided.

The Pale Tree might've still been singing, but her sweet words were just background music which set the mood for their first kiss, their first embrace as more than friends.

They had to stop for breath eventually, and that was when Dal explained himself.

"You don't think," he said. "You do. And I do too."

They kissed again, and for the first time in his life, Dal was happy that his fangs weren't long enough to accidentally gouge anything. He was happy, and if other charr didn't agree with him loving a human, then they could all go burn themselves for all he cared. Matt could help them with that too.

The man's hand wandered everywhere around his head, brushing his golden brown fur everywhere they glided. Even he had forgotten what color his fur was until he had a proper bath with actual soap, and it was a wonder when he looked at a mirror after his first wash.

He laid there and enjoyed the sensation of being loved, a feeling he had long lost any recollection of. Matt was gentle, his kissing slow and sensual, while his hand sought out all of his pleasure zones, most of which he didn't even know he had.

He loved it. He loved when he rubbed his ears. He loved when he kneaded the skin at the base of his horns. He loved when he caressed his muzzle. He loved it all.

When Matt lifted his head to breath, he smiled delightfully and his face was slightly flushed red. "So," he said, "do you, you know, want to do it?"

Dal squeezed the man's butt cheeks. "Do that?"

Matt grinned like a dope. "Yeah."

"Only if you want to."

"I do."

"Let's get these pesky clothes off, shall we?"

Dal agreed.

They probably could've made an entry for the world's record speed to strip.

Once they were completely nude, they both took a moment to stare at each other's bodies.

Dal may have been small for a charr, but he was big compared to the human, the gap made even larger by the fact that Matt was a scholar and had the build of one, slimmed even further by his use of magic. The charr had no distinct pattern to his fur, though there were patches of brighter brass that almost seemed orange compared to the rest of his golden brown fur. His black horns, shiny after all the grime was cleaned off, and blue eyes, fuller and brighter than they were before, were the only great contrast in terms of color, and the tip of his tail had a small white fluff.

Matt had an almost uniformly lightly tanned body with his face slightly darker. Wearing Priory robes most of the time had given him that benefit, but he hadn't the bulk of someone who wore iron and steel all day. Regardless, he was still handsome in his own way, and it was appealing even to the charr engineer who hadn't given much thought to other species' appearance since he'd ended his time as gladium.

Both of their loins stirred as they watched.

"Umm," Matt said, "you look lovely. You look like you could wrestle down a pack bull all by yourself."

"Heh." Dal stepped up to him and wrapped his paws around the human's stomach, feeling the soft skin that offered almost no protection to him. "You look, umm, nice. For a human. Not strong, but that's okay." He pointed at his head, retracting his claws and making sure only his finger touched him. "But you're strong up here."

"Thanks," the man said. "I think?"

Dal repositioned his finger so that it was pointing at his heart. "I love you for what you are inside," he said. "It doesn't matter what you look like outside."

"Mm."

The heat growing between their bodies was egging them on, fueling lustier thoughts to flow to their minds. Before long, there were two hard poles battling between their hips.

Matt looked down first and let out a rather loud yip.

The charr chuckled, understanding what the man was worried about.

"Uhh, I don't think I could take you without some practice first," Matt said.

Dal shook his head and hugged the human closer. "You don't have to. I want you to have me."

Matt's head jerked ever so slightly at the unexpected submissiveness of his rather towering charr love, and the motion was noticed despite its miniscule labor.

"I want to feel it," Dal said. "I want to feel how it's supposed to feel. When it's not just a cock trying to please itself, when it's not just a piece of meat attached to someone I despise."

Memories flooded back to the gladium, and he remembered how nearly every other male in his warband had used his hole for their pleasure. None of them really cared about him at all, and the only bandmate who ever did would never have taken advantage of him that way.

Matt could see then how he'd been hurt through the windows of his pale blue eyes, and he wanted nothing else than to heal that hurt.

"Okay," the elementalist said. The prospect of delving where no human had ever gone excited him, and his cock grew harder than it ever had before.

Dal tugged him towards the bed, and then he let go and dropped onto it, his legs bending over the edge. He lifted them up, inviting the human to take him. "Make love to me."

Matt tuned to his weakest element, water, and focused on conjuring what he'd need to make sure his lover would enjoy it. A fine mist appeared around his hard cock, his hands directing the summoning, and then it liquefied into a suitable lube. He then guided his hands over to Dal's tailhole which he also coated with lube.

Once he was done, he released all of his magic and began. Before he inserted his cock, however, he rubbed down the charr one more time, focusing on his pecs and muscles hidden under his trimmed fur. His ministrations steadily went lower and lower until he had reached his pelvis, drawing light moans from the charr the entire way, and then he grasped his cock. He gave the feline shaft a few pumps, feeling the little squishy barbs on it, and used his thumb to press them as if they were little buttons. After he finished caressing the charr's cock, he moved down to feel his furry balls, the hefty pair no less than twice the size of his own.

The human's delicate touch reassured Dal that he was a special person, better than any of his former bandmates, and equal only to Tybalt. Matt was not going to use him as a meat sleeve for only his own sexual pleasure, and he was looking forward to the experience to come.

After gently caressing the powerful male's genitals, Matt aligned himself with the charr's tailhole. He pushed forward and spread open his anal ring slowly, the abused charr's hole having retightened after not being used that way in many years.

The elementalist's lube worked wonders, however, and the human's flared head plopped in with a little effort. Just knowing that the flesh inside him belonged to someone who loved him was enough to bring Dal to new heights of pleasure he'd never felt before, and he encouraged the man to keep going by wiggling his hips down a bit.

Matt took the hint and pushed a little harder, sliding his well-lubed cock all the way in without requiring any painful effort. Fur bristled against his thighs as he hilted his lover, and he felt the charr's thinly haired tail curl up against his back.

"Are you good?" Matt asked.

"Yeah," the charr replied. "Go at your own pace, I can take anything."

The human nodded and gripped the charr's engorged cock. "Okay, but you're coming along with me."

Dal smiled, the experience of mutual pleasure--and real love--foreign to him until now.

Matt thrust back and forth, pistoning firmly but gently against the charr's active hips, both contributing to their shared desires. They grew steadily faster and faster, though a couple times the human slipped entirely out of the charr by accident.

By the third time, however, Dal coughed. "I like it when your head pops in and out," he said.

The man replied with a firm pump along his feline shaft, and then he did what the charr wanted. The pressed his cock inside until only the head was in, and then he pulled it all the way out. The process repeated until he felt his sensitive crown begin to induce his orgasm, and then he resumed his full thrusts into his furry lover.

Despite the overstimulation of his most sensitive part, Matt did not ejaculate first. The anal and prostate stimulation combined with the constant palm around his feline cock made Dal erupt first, spilling his seed all over his lighter fur along his belly. His tail stiffened as he came with a muffled roar, the thin appendage pressing tightly against his lover's back and forcing him to stay in place while his anal contractions milked out the last sensations necessary to make him release.

The warmth filling his insides didn't make Dal feel dirty. It didn't make him feel used. It made him feel loved.

The soft arms that wrapped around him afterwards only cemented that feeling.

---

After they'd woken up, washed up, and performed their morning routines, Matt and Dal noticed a piece of mail had been delivered under their door. Matt picked it up and tore off the Priory seal on it.

Emergency Order from Steward Gixx URGENT

Magister Matthew Rion, you and your novice trainee are to immediately report to Magister Ryker at First Haven. Take the asura gate in the Grove to LA and then to Divinity's Reach. Included in this letter is a voucher for one free waypoint use to from the Palace waypoint to First Haven.

Upon completion of this mission, your novice will attain the rank of Explorer.

"Well," Matt said, "it looks like we're going back to where we met."

"Shame," Dal said. "I was enjoying my time off too."

Traveling was easy when they had nothing to carry besides what they could fit in their pockets. Dal had left his cart and golem in storage at the Priory headquarters and only carried his rifle with him on a sling while Matt wielded a staff which doubled as a walking stick. Without any unnecessary burdens, they reached First Haven before noon.

Magister Ryker's robes made him easy to spot amongst the Lionguard soldiers around him. The sylvari greeted them as they approached.

"Magister!" The pale green sylvari waved at them and bowed. "It's good you came so quickly, there is little time to spare."

"What's going on?" Matt asked. "I've never received direct orders from Gixx before."

"You and your novice were the only ones close to a Lion's Arch gate and available. We have a dire situation here." The sylvari huffed in some air. "Risen have been spotted in the Lawen Ponds."

Matt's face lost a few shades of color. "How is that possible?"

"We don't know exactly, but the working theory is that the first dragon crystal we encountered was there."

"But it was destroyed, wasn't it?"

"Yes, but there lies the issue. The Priory had formed a solution to destroy it, but that first experimental batch was not as refined as future versions. It is possible the original mixture did not completely eradicate the crystal's matter."

Matt stepped back. "Oh gods. This is bad, then."

Ryker nodded, his leafy hair swaying loosely with his head. "Indeed. I've made a new batch of refined solution to use on the fractured crystal, but we'll have to fight through the swamp to reach where it hopefully still is."

Matt gripped his carved wooden staff because he found it hard to balance without it. "I'm ready to do my part."

Dal unslung his rifle and tapped the stock against the ground. "As am I."

Ryker unsheathed his sword. "Good. I wish Firstborn Trahearne were here, but he and Destiny's Edge are occupied with Jormag. We mustn't fail, or we risk Risen overrunning the area before they can turn their attention back here."

"We won't fail," Matt said.

The sylvari nodded firmly. "Lionguard, let's move out."

They entered the swamp, and the nasty stench of death had infected the area. Zhaitan's influence was clearly alive and well despite the dragon's defeat, but Matt found comfort in the numbers they had.

There were twelve in the company, and they progressed through the swamp with Magister Ryker at the lead. Matt followed behind, with Dal watching his back.

It was eerily quiet the entire way, and Ryker led them uneventfully to the cave where the first dragon crystal had been presumed to have been destroyed. As it turned out, the crystal hadn't, and it was in fact regrowing.

"Okay," Ryker said. "No mistakes this time. I'll apply the solution to the entirety of the crystal to make sure it is completely destroyed."

"Better make it quick," one of the Lionguard said. "We've got incoming."

Matt and Dal readied themselves behind the warriors of the Lionguard. They stood next to an archer and another rifleman, their eleven against an unknown number through the swamp's mist.

One appeared off their right, but the rifleman's first shot was true. It smacked the Risen human right in the head, and a follow-up fireball from Matt ensured it would not fight again.

Another appeared on their left, and the ranger shot off an arrow that embedded itself into the undead man's torso, but it didn't stop it from lumbering towards them. The follow-up shot from Dal's rifle, on the other hand, did.

Then the silhoulettes in front of them filled with color, revealing at least a dozen Risen and an abomination.

Matt didn't bother saying how potentially screwed they were. People were going to die here, and that was that.

The Lionguard went to work, the warriors up front charging with all their might. Matt stayed behind and began summoning a meteor storm while his lover stayed by his side and sniped down whatever he could aim at.

The fight up front was not going well. One warrior was knocked dead into the air by the abomination, his armor crushed like a tin can. The rest were holding but steadily retreating from the horde, the three projectile slingers in the back doing their best to relieve the pressure.

Then the meteors fell. Molten rocks smashed against Risen, splattering rotting flesh as they crashed into the murky waters of the swamp. Matt's fury thinned their numbers drastically, but the abomination was still charging. The warriors dodged, but another was torn apart by Risen before he could roll away in time.

Their front line broke, and Risen funneled through to take down the ranged defenders. Matt let off on the meteors and switched to air magic. He formed a static field in the gap between them and their tanks, stunning the undead that entered and buying them some time.

Without any backup, the warriors were surrounded. They took down most of the Risen before they fell.

The rear guard killed all the Risen caught in the static field, but then the abomination charged right through it. They dodged out of the way, but the Lionguard rifleman was a second too late, and he was crushed under the massive undead bulk.

Furious, Matt switched back to using fire, his focus entirely on the abomination now. He ignited the wretched monstrosity, but it turned around and shrugged off the flames engulfing it. Dal tried to shoot it to redirect its attention, but it ignored the holes the charr was making and charged once more at the elementalist.

Matt rolled out of the way again, this time leaving a wall of fire in his wake, but the abomination trotted through the flames as if it were a fire imp. The elementalist took the opportunity to hurl a few more fistfuls of fireballs, but the bullheaded creature righted itself after only a few seconds.

At the same time, a handful of Risen appeared which forced Matt to take on the abomination solo. Dal wished he had brought his cart full of turrets, but there had been no time, and he had to rely only on his rifle now.

The archer fought alongside Dal, pushing back the new Risen, but they were also strafing back to the cave to gain distance between them. Meanwhile, Matt switched his attunement to earth and smote the burning abomination with the power of the ground.

The towering undead was falling apart now, but it made one last charge before its flesh failed. Matt was out of energy and couldn't dodge, but he managed to wreath himself in armor drawn from the earth, his skin protected by rock. The abomination struck him, sending him flying into the cave.

Matt screamed, but he knew he would live. The impact wasn't as strong as if the abomination was at full strength, but he still flew rather high from the blow and his staff was knocked out of his hand. The monster was extinguished as his burning flames finally fully consumed its flesh, and Dal was left to fight off the last of the undead with the Lionguard ranger.

As Matt reached the peak of his flight, he realized that he was flying into the cave. He rolled his eyeballs as much as he could and saw that he was going to slam right into Magister Ryker.

The sylvari was concentrated on demolishing the dragon crystal and didn't notice the hunk of stone hardened human flying at him. There was a loud crunch as Matt crashed against him, and they both went down.

The crystal had been whittled down to the size of a pearl, and it got knocked out of Ryker's hand as the elementalist landed on top of him. His other hand--whole arm, actually--fared worse. Matt's body crushed the sylvari's left arm, and they were both too dazed to get up.

Outside, Dal and the ranger were able to finish off the last of the Risen. Dal had seen his mate knocked into the air and wasted no time running into the cave while the ranger stayed at the mouth as lookout. He let out a heavy sigh of relief when he saw the elementalist's earthen armor crumble into dust, revealing him to be mostly unharmed.

He picked him up, garnering groans from both the magisters. The man leaned against him, grasping at his fur and somewhat dizzy, but he assured his lover that he'd be fine. Magister Ryker had the wind knocked out of him, so the charr helped him up after he was sure Matt was actually okay.

The sylvari clutched his bad arm with his good one, and then he noticed that the dragon crystal was on the floor, and the bottle with the solution had been shattered. "Oh, oh no, that is not good."

"What can we do?" Dal asked.

Ryker picked up the dragon crystal in his working hand. "I have more of the solution in First Haven. We need to get back as soon as possible."

"I'm sorry," Matt said. "Are you going to be alright with that arm?"

"It'll be fine. Might take a few years to regrow, but we have to move now."

The ranger turned around. "I've sighted a few more, three or so shadows in the mist."

"Could easily be more," Dal said.

"I can't focus anymore," Matt said. "I'll be useless in a fight."

"Then take the crystal," Ryker said. "I can still fight with one arm."

"Okay," Matt said. He took the dragon crystal from him, and then the sylvari drew out his sword.

"Run," Ryker said. "Full sprint to First Haven. Go!"

The four survivors made a mad dash out of the cave, weapons armed and ready. Dal and the Lionguard ranger shot at any shape in the mists while they ran, and Ryker led the charge at front. The two projectile slingers did their job well, and Ryker only had to swing his blade once to decapitate a Risen that had been crippled by a glancing shot from Dal.

They made it to the safety of First Haven's walls without any more casualties, but the other Lionguard soldiers in the Haven looked upon them grimly knowing that only four of a dozen had returned.

Dal shook the ranger's hand before he followed Matt and Ryker to his quarters. The sylvari broke several bottles and vials on his alchemy table before finding the potion to destroy the crystal, and he poured it all over Matt's hand to make sure it would be completely eradicated.

Once it disappeared, Ryker sat down onto his bed. "Phew," he said, "that should be it then. Now Zhaitan is truly gone from this world."

"Good riddance," Matt said. Exhaustion finally caught up to him, and he fell into Dal's arms. "Hey, help me make it to my bed, Explorer Ironclaw."

"Explorer?"

"Yep."

"Lovely title."

"Bed, before I pass out in your arms, please."

The charr grinned and guided his mate to their room.

Once Matt was asleep, Dal unslung his rifle and set it down on a table. With his new rank and the success of their mission, he supposed the Priory might begin sending them on more of these types of dangerous missions. He was excited but worried at the same time, the charr's upbringing battling with his desire to see Matt safe.

As it turned out, they weren't quite of the danger yet.

Matt woke up screaming an hour later and caused Dal to drop his rifle which he was only halfway done cleaning.

The charr went to his side and kneeled down to bed level. "Matt! What is it? Are you alright?"

Matt grabbed the collar of the engineer's coat. "No! Oh gods, no!"

The charr's blue eyes turned wide and pale. "What's wrong?"

"He's here! He's here! Oh cold Grenth, he's here! I don't know how long I can-"

Before Matt could finish, he fell unconscious again, falling back to the bed into slumber.

Dal ran for Magister Ryker.

The sylvari came and checked up on his lover. He face grew grim as his good hand felt around the human's skin.

"He's turning," Ryker said. "But he's not wounded. I don't understand, I've never seen this happen before."

"Turning?" Dal asked, his voice full of concern. "What do you mean?"

"Into a Risen."

"You have to help him!"

"I-I don't know how. The crystal was known to turn people into Risen, but they had to hold on to it for several days at least! This is beyond my skill to heal."

"But you have to do something!"

"I'll send a message to Trahearne, he's the only one who could help. Matthew is fighting the corruption still, but I don't know if he can resist long enough."

Dal frowned. "He will. I know he can."

"Keep a watch on him." The sylvari tilted his head towards the engineer's rifle on the table. "Use it if you have to."

No more words were said, and Ryker went to send his urgent letter.

Dal felt cold as he watched over his mate for several hours. He'd finally found someone who loved him, and they'd only spent a few months together before fortune wanted to tear them apart. He trembled often, feeling awful and feared that he'd have to kill him if he turned.

He even held the pendant Matt had given him and prayed to Dwayna.

Matt regained consciousness a few minutes after the prayer, giving the charr hope. But the human was still rabid and sweating.

"He's here!" Matt screamed.

"Who?"

"Zhaitan! He's fighting for control over my body, oh gods, Dal, please, he's winning."

"What can I do? Tell me what I can do!"

"Live, love. Live." He screamed horribly again, the dragon wracking his mind with pain. "D-don't blame yourself!"

"What?"

"Shoot! You have to shoot me before it's too late!"

"Matt..."

The man's demeanor changed, and his body stiffened. "These feelings he has for you are disgusting," he said in an awfully monotone voice.

Dal frowned at put on hand on his rifle out of reflex, but he restrained himself from picking it up. "Zhaitan," he muttered.

"Your victory will be short. I will be reborn using his body."

"I'll kill you," Dal said, but there was no conviction in his tone.

"No, you won't."

Matt's body relaxed, but his fingers began to fervently grip the bed sheets. "Please, Dal, I can't fight him off for long. You have to-"

Another spine shattering scream erupted from the human's mouth before he fell unconscious again.

Dal's mind refused to process what had happened. He refused to believe that his mate was going to die either by Zhaitan's hand or his own.

He knew the logical choice was to pick up his rifle and shoot him. The other parts of his mind were cluttered with chaos, and his brain chose to follow the only clear path.

He picked up his rifle nearly without thought, but his hands trembled as his subconscious told him to put it down.

He didn't know what to do.

He remembered Tybalt's advice to him.

Do everything you can to save those you love.

His old bandmate had practiced what he'd preached. He had done everything in his power to give his friends a way to escape Claw Island, even surrendering his life.

Dal put his rifle down. He would not shoot the only person he cared about, not while he was still fighting against Zhaitan's corruption.

Instead, he cried and sobbed onto the table. Any charr that might see and judge him could all die in a dragon's maw for all he cared.

He wept for nearly ten minutes before he pulled off the pendant around his neck. He used a claw to prick at the stone, a supposed link to the air goddess.

"Why?" the charr whimpered. "Why have you left us to fight them alone? Why are you letting them take him away from me?"

His eyes furrowed, still leaking tears, and he prepared to smash the stone against the wall. But he couldn't bring himself to do it. He couldn't destroy something Matt had given him that he had thought was precious.

Instead, he grasped the stone tightly in his paws and cried onto his knuckles, his eyes clenched shut.

He didn't notice when the air turned distinctly cooler.

"We are sorry," a soothing angelic voice said. "We are so sorry."

Dal opened his eyes. Light flooded his vision, but he adapted to it in a few seconds. He felt that he was still sitting on a stool, but the table holding his rifle was gone. The entire room, in fact, had turned into a mass of white and blue colors.

He turned his head and saw a human woman. He looked all around the place and saw two more women. All of them glowed like an angel, though each glowed with a different color, and he could tell they were wondrous by human standards.

"Where am I?" Dal asked. "What's happening?"

The woman glowing sky blue answered. "You are in a sanctum of the human gods. I am Dwayna."

The charr looked at her with skepticism. "You are the healing goddess?"

"I am. You are looking at an avatar of me, as mortals would be blinded by our true forms. Some are even maddened like Malchor had been."

There was only one question Dal wanted to ask. He didn't care about anything else, not even why he was in the presence of the human gods. "Will you save my Matthew?"

Dwayna's avatar's face remained expressionless. She turned her face towards the woman glowing purple. "Lyssa, what say you now? Shall we answer true or through riddle?"

The purple woman smiled. "The world has suffered enough from the dragons. Let him know the truth without deception."

Dwayna also smiled, hers an infectious one that made Dal feel better immediately. "Matthew will be alright," she said. "I am sorry, but we could not act until now."

"Why?" Dal asked.

"We are not of this world," Dwayna said, "but the Dragons are. As long as they are on Tyria, they are more powerful than we are."

The woman glowing green spoke. "But we have tried to help anyway we can. The dragons feed on magic, and we would only feed their hunger if we were to fight them directly."

"How?"

Dwayna answered. "We have been subtle, but we have done what we can. Melandru, for example, encouraged the growth of the sylvari and blessed them with immunity to the dragons' corruptions."

Dal nodded his head slowly. "But you can help now?"

Dwayna nodded. "You've defeated Zhaitan. His body is broken, so we were then free to drag his spirit away once his last tie to Tyria was destroyed. Except he still had a tether to the world that had been overlooked, preventing us from imprisoning him."

"The crystal?"

"Precisely," Dwayna said. "We seeded humans on Tyria to flourish on this world, so Zhaitan's possession of Matthew's body did not create another link to Tyria since he too did not, using a loose definition of the word, originate from this world."

Melandru nodded. "Balthazar is on his way right now to drag Zhaitan out of your mate and into the Realm of Torment. Abaddon's old cell should be happy to have a new prisoner."

"So he would've been cured without this talk?" Dal asked.

"Yes," Dwayna replied.

"Then you must have a reason for speaking with me."

"Indeed," Dwayna said. "We wanted to encourage you to fight. Go where the Pact goes. Go where Destiny's Edge goes. The charr respect strength and achievements in battle, and we want you and Matthew to show them that humanity can be at peace with the charr."

Melandru added, "We fear that the current alliances will crumble after the dragons are defeated. The charr must be at peace with humans, and there is no better way to cement such peace than with a shining example."

Dwayna nodded. "We were blind, but now we understand the nature of the charr." She sighed. "And we were foolish. We thought humanity would have a positive relationship with the charr, but we were wrong. Well, we were right, but it took several fallen kingdoms, centuries of atrocities, and great cataclysms to finally bring about a fragile peace. You and Matthew will improve this relationship."

"Because we cannot wait any longer for Rytlock and Logan," Lyssa added. "Mortals wait so long for such short lives they own. I fear they will never reveal their true feelings for each other, not until they pass on."

Dal raised an eyebrow at the insinuation Lyssa was making about two of the members of Destiny's Edge.

"Go back," Dwayna said. "You can tell people what you think they should know about us, but try to leave Rytlock and Logan to grow themselves."

"Okay," Dal said. "Thank you."

The last Dal saw of the three goddesses was Lyssa's grin. He heard her voice fade into a distant echo, but he made out most of it. "Who knows?" she said, "maybe seeing another charr-human couple would finally get them to open up to each other."

The light of the gods' realm faded, and he slipped into a familiar darkness.

When Dal woke up, he found himself lying in bed next to his lover. The human was sleeping peacefully, his face devoid of strain or torture. His paw was still grasping something, and he opened it to find the blue stone pendant still there.

He put the pendant back on and rubbed his paw against it. "Thank you," he whispered.

Matt woke up a minute later, his arms stretching wide as he yawned rather loudly. "Dal," he said, "what's going on? I thought we were fighting in a swamp."

"We were," the charr said. "You don't remember?"

"I remember a sylvari. Oh yeah, Magister Ryker. You were there. Nothing much after though. Where are we?"

"First Haven."

"Oh," Matt said, "did the Magister destroy the dragon crystal?"

"Yeah," Dal said. "He did."

The charr turned to his side, retracted his claws, and pulled the human close to him. He kissed him, tasting the man's mouth once more.

"I love you so much," Dal said.

"Mm," Matt said, struggling to speak against the charr's tongue assault. "Me too, Dal, me too."

Life was going to be more dangerous from here on out, but Dal knew one thing: he would protect the one he loved with his life.