“Willem!” Kat cried out, coughing with a scorched throat full of blisters and dust. Pain shot through her muscles as she tried to roll over, tried to rouse him. Yet she could do no more than turn on the ground, her bruised body incapable of any further movement. Falling back on the ground with a huff and a racing heart, her weakness made unconsciousness creep over her wearily.

Not yet. She was lucid in her dreaming, aware of her state. Not yet, I need to wake up. Yet her mind felt like it was restrained, like there was a heavy force pulling her back where she wanted to stride forward. Frustration seized her, an utter inability to act even in this time of greatest need. Wake! Blood and bones, wake up!

As if at her urging, she felt a sudden strength pour in through her arms, a clarity and vitality that seemed to sweep away the pain and leave behind only throbbing aches. She drew in a ragged breath, the air cool and cold against her lungs. Slowly, she winced as her eyes opened, the faint light in the room too much for her. Yet that light was not the orange-red of the torch. Rather, it was a purple glow—magic.

Kat found her gaze drawn to the figure standing over her, a figure that she faintly recognized as Norus. She was confused until she realized that his upper body was bare, shirtless. The scar on his throat continued down his chest—something that she had never realized. It curved and swirled on his chest, scars carved into his flesh and lining his torso down to his wrists. It was And they were glowing.

Those scars pulsed with a faint light, glowing with dim purple. He clasped her hands in his own, threads of purple coiling out from his scars and worming into her own battered body. They were nowhere near as thick or numerous as the Willem’s, but they were enough to cleanse the fatigue and pains from her body. She exhaled slowly, her heart beat calming as he slowly released her from his grasp. Settling back, he sat down carefully, his face and chest covered with sweat.

“H-how…” she stammered out, watching as the glow of magic faded from his scars. He looked up to meet her eyes, his own almost lifeless and dull. A faint twitch tugged the corner of his mouth into a smile before he fell back, utterly weary. Weary, she realized. All this time, she had never seen Norus show any sign of tiring. He had taken first watch every night; he had even carried Willem down the ladder. Yet he had never seemed out of breath.

And his arm—the limb that had just been half-devoured by skal’va and the burnt by flame just moments before. She had seen it happen with her own eyes, and yet she could see quite clearly that it was unharmed. “What...are you?” she asked slowly, something like dread rising up inside her. All this time she had traveled alongside him, yet not once had she considered he might be something other than human.

Sitting up and breathing hard, he blinked slowly before pulling out his sword from his side. Kat flinched instinctively, tensing in reflex only to watch in surprise as he drew the length of metal along one of the scars on his arm. He showed no sign of flinching at the pain, setting the sword down on the metal floor before peeling the lips of the wound apart with his fingers.

Underneath that pink flesh glowed purple magic, the ribbons pulsing like worms as they writhed and twitched underneath his skin. A mixture of awe and horror filled her as she watched, looking up to see his face tiredly smiling. “A monster.” he replied, pushing the flaps of skin back together. She saw threads of magic lash out through the skin, stitching the cut until it fully healed without even a trace of former injury.

“Your body—” she began, but he cut her off, shaking his head.

“Not mine.” he gestured to his neck, turning so that she could see. The scar along his throat ran diagonally through his neck, from the center of his throat at the front and ending level with his shoulders at the back. It was a single wound, as if he had been decapitated with a sole blade. A fluttering sensation in her stomach made her realize that statement may have been closer to truth than she expected.

He gestured to his body, gazing down at his fingers. “My mind. My soul. This body—” He waved at everything from his neck down, tracing the swirling scars carefully. “—an experiment.”

“But you can use magic.” Kat breathed, her eyes growing wide at the thought. “Like Willem. Like a channeler. Why—why didn’t you use it earlier?” she asked, remembering how he had healed her. Yet his shaking head once more stifled the excitement in her heart before it could take root.

“My magic weak. Keeps me alive, no more. My fire is just a spark.” He gestured at her wounds, and she saw that they were not truly healed. “I cleansed fatigue. You are still injured.” he explained, slowly rising to his feet. As if in agreement, her body failed her when she tried to stand up as well, a stab of pain shooting up her leg. Holding an arm out, Norus helped pull her up before turning to face Willem.

The boy was resting on the ground against the metal, blood trickling out the corner of his mouth from the force of the magic that he had used. Gently, Kat tried to pull him up, his body heavy despite his small figure. He was utterly asleep, his chest rising slowly as he tossed and groaned softly. “Blood and bones.” she gasped out, her abused body unable to do much more.

Norus was off to the side, holding the smoldering remains of the torch aloft to provide some form of illumination. The light shone over the metal walls of the room where he was standing, and he gestured to what seemed to be a dial protruding from its surroundings. Kat strode over hurriedly, her curiosity getting the better of her.

The dial was a circular wheel made from steel, polished utterly smooth to the point that she could see her distorted reflection on the surface. Five depressions in the dial seemed to match her hand, and she instinctively reached out her hand to fit her fingers into the matching impressions. There was nothing at first, and she tried to pull them back dissapointedly. Yet before she could, there was a sudden searing heat in her fingertips, and she drew them back sharply. Steam billowed from her fingertips, the skin burnt and already beginning to blister. Five and three curses, she thought dimly, gasping through the pain as she clutched her wrist.

She watched silently as Norus slowly extended his fingers to fit them into the sockets, half-distracted by her own pain and unable to stop him. There was a faint hum as he did so, the scars on his body glowing a dim purple. Smoke plumed out of his mouth, his body beginning to shake, yet the moment was gone almost as quickly as it had come. Before she knew it, he was collapsed on the ground, white smoke curling from his fingertips. The dial remained unmoved, unchanged apart from a slight glow in the metal.

“Are you alright?” she asked hurriedly, kneeling by his side as he drew in a bracing breath. His chest heaved erratically, his scars pulsing with a distant light before slowly returning to normal. Gradually he seemed to collect himself, sitting up and wincing as he shook his fingers.

“Not enough.” he grunted, his voice oddly disconnected. His gaze focused on the dial, its material still casting a faint glow in the dark room. The torch on the ground was beginning to gutter out, making the dial’s faint radiance more visible.

“Not enough? Of what?” she asked, her eyes trying to focus on the dial. It was as if there were symbols carved into the surface, but they were far too faint to hope to make out. Even as she watched, they seemed to pulse on the edge of visibility, winking out just after she noticed them.

“Magic.” Norus responded, and he rose up to his feet only to stride over to where Willem lay in the corner.

Kat blinked in surprise, hurriedly moving over to help him as he began to drag the boy over. “Are you sure?” she asked nervously, yet Norus gave no response as he placed Willem in front of the dial, grabbing his arm and carefully planting each finger in the corresponding depression.

There was a hum once more, but this time there was a trembling sensation that filled the air, a vibration that made the walls quiver and her jaw rattle. Kat watched as some unseen force threw the boy’s head back, the Maes on his face glowing with purple. Ribbons and sparks of magic danced from his fingers in the air, erratic and ecstatic with their movements. Similar lines of purple began to glow on the dial itself, those symbols that she had seen before now clearly glowing on the surface. As always, they seemed to change the longer she stared, shifting into obscurity despite her best attempts.

That trembling in the walls continued to grow, the air growing hot. Kat could not help but cough as dust filled her lungs, dust that billowed into the air in a blinding cloud. It was like sand and grit that filled her mouth, each cough forcing her to drag in another aggravating breath. The space surrounding her continued to grow more and more scorching until the air near the metal walls were rippling and distorted. She found it difficult to draw breath, the air dense and packed with debris.

Yet that trembling grew stronger still, the humming in the air growing louder until she had to clap her hands over her ears. The walls continued to shake, the motions throwing up more and more dust until finally they almost seemed to melt before her. The air around them twisted and warped until the metal appeared almost liquid. Bit by bit, it fell away from her, light peeking in from outside. Sunlight, she realized, as it threw back the shadows and cast light upon the dark metal room.

More and more of the wall fell away, a sharp keening sound filling her head as the dial continued to glow. Then, abruptly, it stopped—a sensation like a taut cord cut clean through with a knife. The thrumming and the trembling ended, the heat quickly falling away from the air. Steam billowed from the ground, filling her vision and scalding her skin at the touch. Where there were once smooth walls, there was now nothing—the metal had dripped slowly into the earth. In its place, she could see the grass and sky from outside, a view that she had only enjoyed previously at the top of the Gates.

An exit, she realized jubilantly, as soon as her thoughts had gathered. The dial had fallen silent once more, the runes and all signs of magic disappearing from its surface. Willem’s hand had fallen to the ground, smoke curling from the Maes on his face, sparks and energy crackling in the air around him from the presence of magic.

“Norus!” Kat cried out, gesturing to the rugged, half-hidden path that continued outward. From the angle of the shadows, she knew that it led north. The Kingsroad, she remembered faintly. Back to Revan and the camp. This crow-cursed mission, the damnable skal’va, they were so close to leaving them behind. “We can get back, Norus!” she cried out, waving to the no-longer-man who lay crouched over Willem’s sleeping form.

Closer now, she thought with jubilation. Closer to safety, and home, and leaving all this behind. The sunlight shining down on her body was like a warm embrace, shedding away an eternity of despondence and despair. It’s almost over, Kat reminded herself with irrepressible enthusiasm, seeing the grass and road before her.

She could not hear the carrion birds that cawed above, nor the buzzing that was faint in the distance.