Even in the depths of despair, when it seemed as if all hope was lost, Lance never truly stopped believing Bael would rescue him. There were many moments he faltered, feeling like he didn't deserve someone to raise hell for his benefit. His captors shouted at him, injured him, and just utterly tormented him the entire time he was in their possession. They wanted information about matters he barely comprehended; his brain began to swell from the blows to his head, causing some of his recollection of their words to become muddled. The desire to see Bael's face prolonged his hold on sanity, a fact of which he had no doubt.

"You're all going to be sorry when my friend sees what you've done to me." It was a feeble attempt at intimidation, especially coming from his mangled body that lay upon death's doorstep.

His captors chuckled, brandishing their weapon for another round of abuse to try and extort secrets he simply did not have. He screwed his eyes shut and bit down on his lower lip to resist the impending pain.

Before they were able to further harm him the door swung open- banging against the wall and eliciting a gasp from his tormentors. Lance cracked open an eye (the one that was less swollen) to see what new fresh misery arrived for him.

Yet there he was, in all his magnificent, chaotic glory. Bael's eyes were maddened, feral, with teeth gritted and body covered with blood stains. When his eyes connected with Lance's, for an instant they sparked with warmth that overcame the burning anger. Lance questioned if he could dare be permitted to have hope.

As relief washed over him, Lance's grasp on reality began to falter. His eyes drooped and the tension in his body began to relax. The sounds of Bael fighting off his captors were mere white noise in the background; the blood pounding in his veins drummed on the inside of his head covering all other sounds.

Quicker than Lance would have fathomed, Bael was at his side tugging at the ropes that bound him. The careful brush of his shaking fingers against Lance's arm did wonders to soothe the ache in his broken spirit.

"Hey...Bael."

I need you to look at me. More than anything else right now.

"I stayed alive. They didn't get to kill me. I did good, right?"

No one else ever has. Will you tell me that you're proud of me?

There was so much else within his heart he wanted to say, but the fight for consciousness was one he was losing. Bael crumpled into his lap, most likely lamenting the situation Lance had once again put him through. Something about watching Bael drop his facade of strength made Lance's heart drop into his stomach. In the time that he knew the other man, all of the things they went through, he had never seen Bael deteriorate in this way. If Lance's hands were free he would run a hand through his wild hair and tell him everything would be okay now. It was going to be fine, because Bael saved him.

Lance's eyes caught a glint of iridescent gold from the darkness in the corner of the room. Pearl-white teeth shone in an ill-fittingly jovial grin. Fragmented memories from another time, another life, flashed in front of Lance's eyes. Images of the golden-eyed shadow that hunted him in the Woods of Mystery came rushing to the forefront of his thoughts. Lance's head shook as he groaned to try and get Bael's attention, but the other man was too consumed with his mourning.

A glint of metal flew across the room, reflecting the light from the candle light sconce on the wall. Swiftly, with little resistance, the blade became embedded in his neck. Given that his body was already in shock from the pain, the penetration was barely noticeable. Lance croaked, blood now flooding from his mouth as the air he breathed began leaking from the knife wound.

As his eyes closed for the last time, his final sight was the grinning golden-eyed face in the dark corner. The last thing he heard was Bael's false promises of ensuring his swift recovery.

He was in the middle of deep sleep when the phantom sensations set in. Every inch of his body ached to his bones, while his skin burned from being slashed to shreds. His eyes squinted as he failed to rouse himself, locked in sleep paralysis. There was a heavy weight pushing on his stomach but his arms would not move to push it away.

His brow began to sweat while his body started twitching involuntarily. Lance was trapped in his own body; not unlike the fragments of memories that passed behind his eyes retelling a story of imprisonment. The golden eyes reappeared, flitting from image to image. His grounding to reality faltered as his understanding of this ever present being continuously eluded him.

A feather-light touch graced his forehead and the convulsions ceased. The mental assault dispersed to be replaced by comforting thoughts. Memories of his mother's voice singing to him cast away all thoughts of isolation and darkness. His small, juvenile hands reached out to touch her own but she remained out of reach. They were deep in the heart of the forest, which was unlike any memory he could recall from before with her. Out of the corner of his eye he saw the visage of what appeared to be a young, unfamiliar child.

Just as he registered the stranger, his eyes flew open.

Sitting atop his forehead was Nyx, gently fluttering her wings as she used her fairy magic on him once again to calm his nerves. He carefully lifted a finger to rub atop her head, eliciting a small sigh from her in the process.

Lance then realized that despite the dream having ended, the weight on him was still present. Casting his eyes downward he saw that, much to his surprise, it was Bael. His upper body was laid across Lance's torso with his arms folded making a pillow to rest on. For the first time since they met, Lance was seeing Bael while asleep. Typically Bael was extremely expressive, always smirking or frowning as it fit his mood. Here, however, he was the picture of serenity. His mouth was opened slightly which resulted in a puddle of saliva dripping onto Lance's stomach. Typically this would have disgusted him, but in all honesty Lance was just happy to see his savior at ease.

It was only after this assessment that Lance realized he was not, in fact, laying in his bed at home. On the contrary, he was laid out on the forest edge with the fire crackling faintly beside him. It was this observation that made him spring up and look from side to side in a panic.

Of course, those using him as their resting place were not fond of this movement. Nyx whined as she was flung forward into the air, forced to catch herself or go tumbling onto the ground. Bael ended up getting flipped onto his back on Lance's lap as he awoke with a start.

Bael's eyes opened wide as his arms flung out in alarm. One of these said arms ended up pushing Lance back down, resulting in an embarrassing display of two grown men flailing their limbs at each other.

"Bael- cut it out!" Lance gritted, the heel of Bael's foot pressing into his chin holding him down. Lance's hands struggled to push Bael's legs away from his head, while his own legs were wrapped around Bael's torso trying to wrestle him into submission.

As if the weight of a Giant was pulled off Lance, Bael finally pulled away to separate himself from the other man entirely. The fear dropped from his eyes to be replaced with realization. He looked upwards at Lance apologetically, but Lance couldn't understand where such an expression would come from.

"Are you- are you okay?" Bael blurted.

Lance blinked before stretching out his arms to take a look at himself. Other than being uncomfortable he was in his night clothes around another person he felt normal. "Aside from a few bruises just now, yeah I think I'm okay."

Bael's lips quivered as he shook his head, eyes narrowed intently when he focused on Lance once more. "No- I-" He visibly struggled to say whatever thought plagued his mind.

It was tempting to offer a comforting hand to rest on Bael's knee but Lance resisted. Flashes of confusing feelings welled up in his stomach that he failed to comprehend. Each time his eyes alighted on Bael his insides would roll.

"Those people did awful things to you, Lance," Bael whispered, eyes looking beyond Lance into the distance. "I don't know how much you remember, but it was horrific."

Truth be told, Lance couldn't remember much. The last thing he vividly remembered happening was talking to Bael the night before. They had agreed to be open with one another and ease up on the antagonism. Yet flashes of Romani Ranch, Clock Town, and Ikana City teased at the edge of his mind. It appeared a lot had transpired before he died in the last sequence of time.

"I remember" -Lance paused as Bael visibly tensed- "that we had a big fight," he recounted, brows furrowed as he painstakingly plucked at the scattered pieces of memory. "We had an argument, but made up later. You took me to see the stalfos in the woods."

Bael watched Lance, befuddled by this recollection but making no motion to interrupt it.

"Then we went home and then to Ikana sometime after. I don't- I don't really remember much about what happened at home. Except you yelled at my dad" -he smiled while imagining it- "and I kicked your ass in a spar."

"After that we went to Ikana City where…" Lance's voice trailed off as his eyes widened.

Bael's arms wrapped around his knees as he curled up to hide his face. His nails dug into his skin, threatening to cause injury. "I'm sorry- I'm so fucking sorry, Lance. It was my fault any of that happened."

After several heavy, silent seconds passed Bael eventually raised his head to look up when Lance did not speak or even move. What he saw was Lance's face bloomed into a vibrant red, with both hands covering his mouth as he stared fervently at the ground.

"You- you k-kissed me," Lance finally stuttered, incomprehensible underneath his hands.

"What?" Bael asked, flabbergasted.

With immense dread Lance peeled his fingers apart, knowing full well how much he desperately did not want to broach this topic. "At the clinic in Ikana you kissed me. I don't remember why but you did," Lance finished, shooting an accusatory look at Bael. His eyes tried to convey anger, but his face was still flushed.

"That- that's what you remember?" Bael half-shouted, flaring up in exasperation.

"How could I not?! Who just kisses someone they barely know out of the blue?"

"Oh for the love of- look, I feel like a broken record at this point. I wanted to drive it home to Rachel that you weren't interested in her girl, okay? That. Is. All."

"That's it?" Lance's hands dropped to his lap as the color seeped from his face.

"Simple as that. I don't understand why such a big deal had to be made of it." As Bael said this, his eyes shot up to Nyx sitting on Lance's head before sticking out his tongue.

"That's...it. Huh." Lance grew quiet as his understanding of the situation deepened. He recalled going to the clinic and Bael pretending to be his lover (his stomach flipped at the thought) in order to get Rachel's cooperation. Which he failed to get, so it was all just a waste of their time. Clearly his punishment was to suffer these persistent, intrusive images of Bael pulling Lance towards himself. Pressing his soft, alluring lips against Lance's own. His heart, which was once consumed with reflections of platonic intimacies with his best friend, was now plagued with new, jarring emotions.

As it had become a recurring theme of his life, he found himself obsessing over the affections of those who did not want him in that way.

Bael paid Lance's lapse into heated fantasy no mind, as he immediately proceeded into the next topic at hand. "After that, when they took you from- when they took you, did they give any inclination as to why?"

Lance paused for several moments in contemplation. A large portion of the time was spent willing his fervently drumming heart to return to normal. Once the emotions were suppressed, a skill he was not adept at, his mind reflected on the dark blot in his fragmented memory. Two men hounded him for information relentlessly, but the reason was fleeting. Mentions of true intentions in Ikana came to mind, but rest he was forced to grasp at near aimlessly.

"They wanted to know what the both of us were doing in Ikana." His hand balled into a fist as it pressed into his forehead with a grimace. "That we were suspicious. Like we had something to do with a problem that was cropping up in the city recently."

"Did they mention Twinmold, by chance?"

With eyes fluttering, Lance eagerly nodded his head as that particular word unlocked the seal hiding the rest of his memory. Unfortunately, this came with the additional baggage of further recalling the extent of his torture. His palms grew clammy and his mouth dry. The balled fist unfurled to clench at his hair.

"Yes, yes they did mention Twinmold. They wanted to know if we were in possession of Aka. I don't know what Aka means and they would never explain it. The fact that you knew the remains at the Stone Tower were fake made us suspicious to them."

Bael took a deep sigh, looking despondent. "It was written on one of the signs at the museum, but the twin insects have their own names given by the people. Aka is the red one, and Ao is the blue one. What you tell me leads me to believe that the body of Aka is missing. An impressive feat for the corpse of an old god the size of Clock Town."

"They also accused us of using Aka to spread the blight around town. That lately people had started acting weird, attacking anybody in their vicinity," Lance elaborated, slowly as the memories came back to him.

"Remember in their history how Twinmold was responsible for the curse of the undead on Ikana Kingdom?"

"Yeah, I do," Lance answered with uncertainty.

"If one of the twins is missing and people are starting to act weird, think you might understand what they're getting at here?"

"Oh. Oh."

Bael rose from the ground and casually stretched his upper body. "The sun will be rising soon. I'm going to check on the grove. Nyx, stay here with him."

Nyx's voice began to rise, but he stifled whatever she might have said with a single look.

"Juji will probably be coming before I can get back and then we can go to Clock Town." Bael cast a gentle look down towards Lance, having been pointedly looking away from him up until now. "We can have a nice breakfast in the city, if you'd like."

Lance nodded. That sounded like a dream.

The sun did indeed begin to rise shortly after Bael's departure. With it also came the torrential downpour, extinguishing their campfire leaving the two of them in the chilled dusk.

In a pattern Lance could only compare to nervous pacing, Nyx flew in circles around their camp. She let out an aggravated whine every so often as she shook the build up of moisture that accumulated on her small body.

"Nyx, do you know why time reset to this day?" Lance asked, his drenched mane obscuring his eyes that followed her every move.

"What?" she barked. Her tone must have surprised her, as she repeated the question once more softly.

He repeated the question once more and she tersely replied, "I don't know."

"Not that I wanted to end up dying again, but I had hoped in the back of my mind if I did I would get another chance to save Kuthro." When he first awoke from his nightmares acknowledging that time reset to a new point hadn't occurred to him. Once Bael reminded him Juji would be coming by it crushed his fleeting hope.

"I know you have a lot of regrets about that, but it's really not your fault. Words can only do so much, I get that. Just- forgive yourself for making it out alive, okay?" she consoled him, her anxious flying abated.

"Thanks Nyx. You really do know the right things to say, huh?" he asked with a smile.

"Let's just say I've got a few years on you. And don't even think about asking about my age," she teased. She settled into place in the crook of Lance's elbow to seek cover from the rain. Lance could feel her snuggling in against his body, which brought him an inordinate amount of comfort.

The morning sun began to peek through the forest canopy, altering the dreary rainy atmosphere into a brighter sunshower. In the same way that he could depend on the morning sun rising at the usual time, so too did Prince Juji arrive as expected.

The young prince's face was composed as he gracefully navigated through the overgrowth. His illuminated eyes alighted on Lance, to which he responded with a small grin on his protruding snout. As he drew near his eyes cast around in search of something, looking perplexed as he did so.

"Good morning, Your Highness. I don't know if I ever told you my name; I'm Lance Wisteria," he announced over the percussion of the rain.

Prince Juji looked up upon being addressed. "Hello again, Lance. Is Master Bael not here?" he queried, focusing back on Lance.

Lance shook his head. "He had some business to attend to in the forest."

"Oh." Juji's posture slacked as his head turned downward. "I wanted to come thank the both of you, but I can't stay for long."

"Your brother's funeral is today, isn't it?"

The prince nodded as he crept forward until he was within mere inches from Lance who was seated on the ground. The leaves that decorated his head were pressed flat against his head due to the torrential rain, making him appear even tinier than Lance thought he had previously.

"Thank you, I-" Prince Juji choked as the features of his face began to quiver. "I saw that you tried to harm yourself in grief when you found my dead brother. I also saw how valiantly you fought to save Master Bael."

Lance's breath hitched. He did not expect the exchange with Juji to happen like this and it was throwing him off completely. From what he vaguely remembered it was formal and brief, but this was beginning to tie his stomach into knots.

"You're our hero," Prince Juji cried. "You saved not only myself but the Lord of the Woods as well. If something were to happen to Master Bael, the world as we know it would come to an end. Mother is angry, I know, but if my brother was here he would tell you that his life meant nothing compared to his."

His heart began to race as Juji looked up at him in despair. A tentative hand reached out to pat the young deku prince on the head, which made him rush forward and wrap his small arms around as much of Lance's torso as he could.

"Odolwa killed Kuthro. He claimed his right of sacrifice to protect this land. The royal family cannot remain bitter over this fact," Juji mumbled with his head burrowed into Lance's stomach.

Much of what the young prince was saying was ignored by Lance. Once again he was fixated on trying to understand just who Bael was. What was his role in the affairs of all of Termina?

"Your Highness, if I may be so inclined to ask." Lance's mouth felt dry, heart throbbing against his chest while his hand shook atop Juji's head. "What has Ba- Master Bael done to earn your people's reverence?"

Prince Juji looked up perplexed. "You mean you do not know? As his retainer I would have thought you knew of his importance."

Instead of arguing with his assumption, Lance merely shook his head.

"As my family was formerly the protectors of the Woods of Mystery, I am privy to some of its secrets. Not all of them, however, given its name that alludes to its uncertain nature. There is a darkness, lurking in the woods. One that many did not live to recount the tale of. Master Bael sealed that darkness away. Without him, I do believe it would have escaped one day and killed us all."

Lance found himself lost in contemplation. Was this darkness the thing that attacked him the first night he supposedly met Bael? That wasn't what he would consider a creature under control. Was the darkness trying to escape now, and that's why they were going to all these different lands? Every time he sought answers, it felt like he walked away with more questions.

Prince Juji pulled away and rubbed the sleeve of his regalia across his snout. "I have to be going now. Mother must be frantic wondering where I am. Thank you again, Lance. For what you've done and what you're continuing to do. Your actions will impact us and our descendants for the rest of all time." Without sparing time for farewells the young prince departed. His shoulders squared with his chin held high as he walked back towards the palace of the Deku Kingdom.

"Nyx, did you know about all that?" Lance blurted, desperate to somehow quell his frantic heart.

"Yes. I would say only part of what he said is true," she replied bluntly.

"Which part?"

"Trust me when I say this, Lance, but you're already entangled in these matters enough as it is. There are some things you're better off not knowing about."

He didn't know what he expected to learn, but this did nothing to settle his worries.

After another hour passed Bael eventually returned from his trip into the woods. The rain was beginning to let up as they packed what little belongings they had and returned to Clock Town on horseback. Lance had to push down the persistent temptation to interrogate Bael on what Juji said; his rationale was too skilled at making competent arguments about why that would be an atrocious idea. The primary one being that Bael was beginning to act exceptionally distant towards him. They rode in unsettling silence all the way from the swamp to the city proper, and no matter how many times Lance tried to broach a topic it was met with little more than grunts.

Bael had promised him a nice breakfast in town, and all things be damned Lance was going to have that much. He brought the pair of them to a quaint bruncheon cafe that was a favorite of his. It had been the kind of place he only visited with his mother before she was bed ridden in the hospital given it was not the place one could easily bring an assortment of male friends. Since his life was turned completely upside down, Lance had little regard for societal norms anymore. If he wanted to drag a non-female friend here for sandwiches and crepes after killing a god, then he felt entitled to that privilege.

It would have been wiser to visit his home first and clean up, but he was hungry and anxious. He was only going to put up with one of those emotions for much longer and the anxiety wasn't going away anytime soon. The two of them sat outside away from the majority of the patrons, yet many of them still felt comfortable shooting them disapproving glances. Image was something Lance had spent all his life worrying about so he didn't make his father look bad, but today his well of damns to give was dry.

Quickly a waitress came over to take their order, all smiles and flirtatious lines. He couldn't overlook the crinkle of her nose as she got closer to hand them menus and either caught sight or a whiff of something unpleasant. Old Lance would have been embarrassed, today Lance didn't think anything of it.

After the waitress took Lance's order and switched to Bael, who was overwhelmed by the options, Lance felt a firm hand on his shoulder. This caused him to jolt out of his seat making his knee slam into the table's underside. He hissed as his head spun around to see who was responsible.

"You look like you've seen better days, Lance."

Lance quickly relaxed but not before shooting a dirty look at the owner of the voice.

"Would you mind not scaring the daylights out of me, Orwen?" he growled.

Orwen smirked before promptly dropping it as he looked across the table. "I thought we usually kept the same company, yet here I see you with someone I've never met. A relative of yours, by chance?"

"Ah, no. This is a friend of mine from out of town you've never met. We just got back into town after a bit of traveling, so you'll have to forgive the state of our dress," Lance answered with a nervous laugh.

“Is that so?" Orwen asked, teeth gritted.

The hand on his shoulder squeezed tighter, earning a wince from Lance as Orwen’s fingers dug into bruises he acquired either from Odolwa or Bael. As his mind shifted from old friend to new, Lance caught a glimpse of Bael locked in an apprehensive stare at Orwen. Apparently Orwen was equally matching it.

“Mind if I join you two?” Orwen’s smile was strained, and his eyes expressed an opposing emotion.

“Well, we’re not planning to stay for long-”

Orwen was already pulling up a chair and seating himself close to Lance’s side. Lance shot an apologetic look across the table to Bael, but found the other man focusing on a glass of water he was stirring spoonfuls of sugar into. His eyebrows were knitted together and the corners of his mouth turned down.

“So where have you been gallivanting off to? Your father has pestered both Thane and myself nonstop. I think he believes we might be stowing you away or something to that effect.” Orwen’s eyes cut back to look at Bael. “Having a mental lapse, are you? This gentleman looks more like he belongs in the Shadow Market than carousing about normal society,” he commented low under his breath.

“He’s not a bad person, if that’s your worry. We became quick friends and decided to travel to the nearby regions. You know, a celebration of the last of my youth and all that.”

“Ah, yes. Your ‘farce’ of a ceremony. Don’t play coy with me; you know I know better than that.” Orwen’s face darkened as his hair fell in front of his eyes, dropping his head lower to better obscure his voice. As he spoke, his face displayed a range of emotions, varying from displeasure to mild amusement.

“Shh, you know I don’t like talking about it in public. It doesn’t need finding its way back to Mr. Romani or my father,” Lance hissed, voice matching Orwen’s low volume.

“Poor, pitiful Lance. Always overextending yourself for other people without receiving half as much consideration in return,” he commented with a self-righteous smirk. “Is that what’s happening here, too? Have you promised to help reform a ruffian, so you’re entertaining yourself by wallowing in filth with ilk like him?”

The table shifted with a loud bang, shocking the two of them with the sudden noise. They both cast their eyes over to Bael whose expression was fuming at best.

“Instead of whispering under your breath, why don’t you say out loud whatever it is you want to say about me?” Bael seethed.

Orwen chuckled. “Of course, where are my manners? I don’t know you in any capacity, but I don’t need to. You’re the type of low class riffraff that Lance should be mortified to show himself around. Yet here you’ve dragged him down to your level and he’s forgotten himself. That’s what I have to say to you.”

Lance gawked to hear all these things come out of Orwen’s mouth. Sure, the man had always been the prickly sort that had trouble making friends, but this was going too far. His eyes swapped between the two of them as his mouth flapped, failing to produce words.

Bael simply blinked, shrugging his shoulders as he sipped his water turned sugar syrup. “I see. You don’t mince words, I can respect that in a person.”

Unsettling silence now reigned over the table, meanwhile Lance was regretting every single little decision that led him up to this particular moment. He was never coming to this cafe for the rest of his life even if this timeline became eradicated.

The waitress returned with their respective orders, her customer service training preventing her from acknowledging the heavy atmosphere that had settled in around the table. Lance eyed his cucumber sandwiches and crepes with assorted fruits in syrup with desperation and greed. Bael gratefully accepted his platter of fried meats and a specially ordered bowl of fruit drizzled with honey.

“Excuse me, miss? I see you’re carrying a pot of coffee. Might you leave that here?” Bael asked in an overly pleasant voice, sounding much unlike his previously irritated tone.

The waitress was surprised by his request, but in an effort to please she obliged with a kind nod. While Lance occupied himself with eating and Orwen watched in silence. Bael pulled a mug from a stack on the table and poured himself a cup with liberally added cream and sugar. Curiously, he lifted the lid off of the pot and peered at the contents.

“Tsk, I can’t believe it. I think there’s a bug in this coffee.” Bael lifted his head up. “Hey, you. You look like you’ve got good eyes, can you look in here to tell me if this is a bug or not?” he asked Orwen.

Orwen clicked his tongue and scooted his chair over to look into the coffee pot as well. “Some of your muck must have gotten into your eyes, because there’s not a speck of anything but coffee in this pot.”

“Really? Take a closer look then.” As he said this, Bael quickly lifted his hand and twisted, pouring the remaining scalding hot coffee on top of Orwen’s head.

Immediately Orwen fell back in his chair and landed on the floor of the patio. His hands flew up to his face in a sorry attempt to prevent searing liquid from scorching his flesh. Passersby began to stare, with wait staff from the cafe rushing over at the sound of commotion.

Bael, in the meantime, took a sip from his own mug then gnawed on a piece of bacon. “Fuck you, you pompous shitstain.”

Lance was reduced to blinking in confusion at what just played out. His food lay forgotten on his plate as he stared daggers at Bael across the table. He was met with not a single ounce of shame in the other man’s eyes.

He could really use one of those spontaneous unexpected deaths right about now.