* * *

The darkness greeted him as his eyes lulled open.

Insomnia beckoned him to be alert. A shrill voice in the depths of his mind called to him and he obeyed, quietly standing upright. He turned to the door and exited, padding along the floor of Ana's home.

Beyond the barrier and into the outside, the cool night air caressed his skin. Wearing only loose pantaloons, he breathed in the evening. His nose was filled with the night's icy breath. Dark eyes drank in the ominous lights which loomed in the darkness, glowering at the denizens of Sanctuary like angels of death.

Bang.

Another attack.

Boom.

Northern bound this time.

Crack.

Wind howled as a missile tore through the air and he covered his ears instinctively.

Clamor and chaos reigned in the smithy as Ana rose only to find him in the training yard. She had seen him perform this act many times during his stay.

Gelehrter was restless. He practiced day and night to hone his skills, borrowing every book he could while Gavilis finalized his authorization to serve once again.

And yet here he stood. No purpose other than to be a Justicar, though he disguised himself as a lover and caretaker.

To Ana, he appeared to be a world away. She took a few steps closer to him and wrapped her arms around his waist.

“You've been doing this for quite some time...” She whispered.

He found no words to reply. His blade yearned to sink its teeth into vampires who now sought to drink life in the depths of night. Plans were already in motion to augment personnel to resist the massive blasts of magic.

“We're safe inside...” She murmured. “...I have you to protect me. Papa protects me, you have taught me how to fight. Please, let us—”

“I am a Justicar, Ana...” He replied finally.

“Aye, you are--”

“I cannot live this life. My purpose is to find the truth in all things and to serve my Overlord.”

He was anxious to his very core.

Crack.

“We cannot stay out here for long!” She growled and heaved him over her shoulder. Strangely, he had become accustomed to being moved about like furniture.

He found no use in struggling and he dangled limply as she carried him into her house.

Ana locked the door behind her once she placed him onto a chair in the kitchen. He lit a candle with a simple spell and focused onto her dim image as she entered once more.

She winced as she glimpsed the scarred tissue along the Blessed Star on his chest. A symbol--which bore its way into the wielder's chest to siphon and store energy away—of sacrifice and dedication. There is no known way of removing a Blessed Star once it has been bound. The flesh around the symbol seemed to crawl and seethe as he breathed. Spreading from the base of his collar, holding him like a harness, and halting near the sternum, its parasitic embrace was a true sign of a Justicar.

But to her, Gelehrter was her love. Her one and only.

Boom.

He had changed. The final letter to her from the North instructed her to be vigilant and alert the Citadel immediately. Their mission had been compromised and they needed assistance.

However, it seemed due to his lack of foresight, or otherwise, he had been subdued by the Lower Sector. Its curse loomed over him like a shadow. The man she had known was gone. He had been calm, collected, studious. Now, his aura was something far sinister. Something abnormal.

Ana could discern the type of man who dozed in front of her.

Ernald's name slipped into her mind. A man whom had united all of Sanctuary under his banner since the beginning, a cold and heartless beast. His skill in combat was unmatched. His knowledge of the world was terrifying. Magic bent to his every whim. He was dubbed Mortem in the beginning and wore the mantle of caretaker to many.

And yet she could not placed them in the same category. She had never known him, nor would she ever. Ernald was in history books and was a figure whom changed Sanctuary forever.

Boom.

Lights outside the windows flashed by and the house rattled. He jerked awake and appeared to search for his weapon. When he had discovered her, he smiled weakly.

That was the Gelehrter she knew. A man who was gentle and kind.

Who, or what, wakes him in the night?

Ominous sirens from the Citadel marked the deployment of soldiers and the deactivation of the defense matrix. A night raid had begun which was led by Justicar. Wielding their Blessed Star and magic, they were seen as an indomitable force.

Her imagination took her to the scene of battle. Crimson eyes flashed and teeth bared as they danced about. Holy magics spiraled through the air and blood soaked into the stone.

Gelehrter appeared to be wide awake now. The aura from before had returned tenfold. His eyes bore the weight of many sleepless nights and he barely had the strength to speak.

“I must go.”

“You can't.”

“I must!”

“No, you cannot!”

“You will not stop me!”

Ana reached for a hammer on a nearby counter and held it in front of her. “I will not see you disobey your orders nor will I lose you tonight!”

“When I am relieved of this, what will you do then? You will worry and seek me out. Should you do this, you will die.”

The sirens halted. A brief excursion into the night, it seemed.

Boom.

Bang.

Crack.

Crack.

The windows were illuminated from the defense matrix firing onto any malevolent intent. Friend or foe mattered not.

Reality had sunken in. She bared her teeth and slugged him across the face. He reeled back and fell onto the floor.

“Do not speak to me that way.” Ana barked. “You are possessed. We fight this every night...”

Gelehrter blinked in surprise as he regained himself. He turned to her and his expression softened.

“I do not enjoy this...” He said.

“Aye...” She held fast to the hammer. “Were it not for love, I would have bashed you to death.”

He staggered to his feet and settled into the chair once again. “He is getting weaker, you know.”

“...What do you mean?”

Gelehrter had fallen asleep and offered no sign of waking.

She sighed as she rested the weapon onto the table. Without further delay, she carried him to their room.

Ana placed him onto the bed and then crawled onto it beside him. She pulled him as close as she could. All the strength in the universe could not prepare her for the quaking fear of loss. Every fiber of her being marveled at his tenacity, his will. Gelehrter, being common born, rose from the depths of normality into a Justicar. Though the title bore merit, it offered little in the way of status. He was a soldier. She was a smith.

A craftsman and a warrior. She fashioned his tools and he wielded them.

Ana maneuvered onto his waist. Her hands rested near his head and gazed down at him.

Her hair draped over his visage as she nuzzled into his neck. His scent, his touch, she yearned for him.

He slept soundly for someone who caused her so much trouble.

Ana crept down to his chest and rested her ear against it.

Thump-thump.

Thump-thump.

Rhythmic life. Her heart fluttered as she listened.

Boom.

She drifted into slumber.

* * *