“Ack!” Lirem’s free hand grabbed Xyra’s wrist.

Xyra began to rise. She wasn’t much shorter than Lirem, and at full height she lifted the bandit until her feet dangled in the air. Metal glinted. Xyra slapped the blade aside with ease.

“Why?” she asked.

Lirem said nothing, her only sounds those of a woman struggling for air. She brought her blade to bear, stabbing at Xyra’s stomach.

This time Xyra grabbed the blade. Anger blossomed.

Snap!

She dropped the sword’s broken blade. Soon Lirem’s hilt followed. Her grip on Xyra’s wrist lessened until both arms hung by her side.

Xyra threw her into the grass.

Lirem coughed and sputtered. Xyra ignored the heaving of air as she rushed past her to where Volsten lay, red screaming from his stomach. Beneath strands of long golden hair was a face too pale.

It started on its own. A swelling in her tummy, that spread up through her chest, cooling as it went, until it reached her arms. She kneeled at his side, then clasped her hands together. Blue light, soft and quiet, enveloped them. Crystal clear water sprung forth and seeped down into Volsten’s wound.

As the water touched, the wound closed, ending the noise of red that had once been and letting the rush of her heart fill the silence it left.

She hoped that it wasn’t too late.

*

Volsten was cool. The heat and agony of his insides had fallen away, replaced by a slick coolness that made him…happy? That was an odd feeling.

He was dead. He knew that much. Yet, he couldn’t recall a time where he’d felt so calm and safe. The world was still black, but he was rushing towards something. His spirit or mind or whatever had carried over drug him forward. Was this heaven? There was little said about Inera’s plans for the dead beyond hoping by temple priestesses. The Sacreds said nothing of it.

Volsten figured that, if Inera did call those she deemed worthy up to the Heavens to gaze on her for all time, he’d be the last. Sooner would the elves bind his soul to one of their abominations, or a demon drag him to the Narrows to wander endlessly.

It terrified him, and that calmness now seemed treacherous, and that light a gateway to horror. He reached it, and if he was capable of screaming, he would. The light led to more darkness. His eyes opened to soft blue light and the same coolness that had dragged him forward.

This was heaven. The woman before him could be none other than Inera. What else could be so beautiful, so pleasant to behold? Eyes of the sun, a face full of worried tears for him…perhaps she would send him to the Narrows for such boldness, but he reached for her. She shrank back for a moment, but she stopped, and allowed him this one pleasantry.

Her cheek was a bit rougher than he imagined.

Strength returned. His vision focused. Deep blue, with giant puffs of white.

The...sky?

The smell of fresh spring air. The feel of grass and warm sun on skin. A light breeze that blew at his hair.

He brought a hand to his face. There it was, caked in blood, but…he lived?

“Volsten?” called a small voice.

Volsten sat up. He touched at his stomach, feeling for the wound that was sure to be there. All that remained was a bloody hole in his tunic.

He looked to Inera, questions dancing on his lips, but there was only a sad Xyra, eyes daring not to look at his, taking comfort in his touch.

He ripped away. Xyra jumped, and the blue light faded.

“Did…did you save me?” There was a gash on his arm. He remembered that. Vanished. The burning cut on his back no longer pained him.

Xyra’s head tilted back and forth in a slow nod. When it came forward again, she cried. Truly, she cried. These weren’t the silent tears of before. Her small body shook with sobs, and her face twisted with grief. “I…I choked her, Volsten…I hurt her so badly…”

Her? Volsten’s gaze shifted to Lirem. She sat in the grass, hugging her knees. Visions of a girl filled with hatred came to him, staring venom as his life ebbed. None of it remained. She peered at a world unknown to them.

“She was going to kill you. There’s nothing wrong with defending yourself, Xyra.” He gave her a smile, but he was never particularly good at smiles meant to comfort.

As such, Xyra looked unconvinced. She wiped her eyes and nose with a sleeve, then ran to Lirem. “I-I’m sorry! I wasn’t myself…I didn’t want to hurt you.”

Lirem blinked. That was all.

“W-what’s wrong with her, Volsten?”

His hand bumped against something. He looked to see his sword, still spotted with Alin’s blood. He grabbed the hilt-there was still unfinished business to attend to.

He stood. “Move, Xyra,” he said. Most of him had recovered from the shock of death, but walking was strange.

Xyra turned to him. Her eyes widened when she saw the blade. “Volsten, wait! Can’t you see that she’s done now? We can just leave her.”

“She would have killed me if…” He found that he’d rather swallow the words than say them. “Don’t you remember the last time you said that? I ended up a half-step from the grave!”

“But you’re here now!”

Volsten sighed. “The point is that she tried to kill me. Then she tried to kill me. Then she tried to kill you. I can’t let her live.”

Xyra stood between them again, arms stretched out in front her. “This is pointless! We could just leave…”

“Pointless? We aren’t the only ones traveling this way, Xyra. She couldn’t kill us, but what’s to stop her from killing someone else?”

“I can’t just watch you kill her!”

“Then close your eyes.” He shoved her to the side. Xyra yelped and fell.

Lirem didn’t move when Volsten raised his blade. She mouthed something he couldn’t understand, closed her eyes against the world, but sat rigid.

Light and heat burst. Volsten grunted as his sword’s hilt ripped through his fingers. He watched as it careened into the trees.

Did she throw fire at me? “What in the goddess’s name is wrong with you?” Volsten shouted. Xyra flinched from his anger. “That’s a damn expensive sword!”

Of course, she stared at the ground. She was no better than a child.

“What did that accomplish, anyway?” Volsten asked, shaking his head. “There are two others blades somewhere in the grass. I could kill her just as easily by taking that knife from her belt. You’ve done nothing but delay!”

When Xyra spoke, it was a whisper. “I didn’t save you,” she shut her eyes hard for a few seconds, “so you could kill more people…”

Volsten swiped at bothersome strands of hair. “Whatever. Let’s go.”

“Really? Alright!” She sighed in relief as she stood, dusting at various places grass and dirt had stuck.

What an absolute child she is, Volsten thought with annoyance. He found the horse, skittish with all the commotion, still securely tied to its tree. Volsten freed it.

“Grab that blanket, Xyra.”

Xyra did as he told. She started for the horse, and Volsten waited for her as he guided the creature out to the dirt road.

They still had a long journey to Tregar. Another few days, perhaps, if they pushed. Volsten mounted the horse. Xyra had yet to come. He looked to see just what she was doing, and saw that she had taken an altogether different path. She knelt beside Dees’s body. Her hands were blue, and water poured forth into his wound.

What is this fool doing?

When it was clear that Dees would never move again, he watched in stunned silence as she hurried to Alin. Water came forth into his opened neck. Just as Dees before, Alin remained still.

Xyra returned with a wet blanket, which she stuffed into the sack. She looked up at him with deep wells of sorrow. Volsten cared not for the dead bandits, but by the goddess, her eyes! Why must she look at him like that?

Volsten offered a hand, and she took it as she mounted behind him.

“They were gone,” she sniffed.

He spurred the horse into movement. Before they left the clearing, Lirem was alive again. She had waited for Xyra to move far away before she dared move. Head bent, she wailed into Dees’s chest.

Good riddance, Volsten thought. He turned his attention to the brightly lit road before him.

*

Day dwindled. The sun sank toward nightly oblivion, its cascade of orange serving as a warning to all that it would soon disappear. Volsten trotted the horse along a darkening path, thoughts swimming in his mind. Before long they would see the White Tower rising in the distance, signaling their closeness to Tregar.

Closeness to Vora. Volsten shifted on the saddle, and Xyra adjusted her grip on him. He hadn’t seen her in months, and he was curious which culture she favored now. She had a thing for that. Every visit was a different woman. The last time he saw her she was obsessed with the Westland. He could only wonder how much she spent on emeriond for that. It wasn’t a style that suited her, really, given the robustness of Westland women, but that hardly ever stopped Lady Chamiret.

It helped that she could never be anything less than mesmerizing.

A clearing came up. Xyra rustled behind him.

“Berries!” One would think she’d found lost treasure with the excitement in her voice.

Volsten saw the trees. They were in full bloom on the edge of the clearing, their branches laden with ripe berries. Volsten pulled towards them.

“We’ve still a long way to Tregar. Pick as many as you like.”

Xyra’s small hand reached towards the tree and plucked quite a few of the tiny blue things. “Should I get enough for you, too?”

“I don’t really like berries.”

“Oh. Well, more for me!”

Volsten patted the stallion’s fine, ebony mane. “How greedy.”

“G-greedy? I’ve only had two apples since yesterday.” Xyra pulled her berry handful back from the tree.

“You’re absolutely delighted that I won’t be eating any berries.”

“You said that you didn’t want any!”

Volsten raised his voice, ever so slightly. He wanted her to feel the fake pain she caused him. “But you didn’t have to be so damn happy about it!”

“I didn’t mean it like that!” Xyra said, soft as a scolded child. “You don’t have to be so loud…”

“I forget how sensitive you are.” Volsten laughed. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s…fine.”

“You don’t sound very convincing, dragon.”

Xyra was quiet. Volsten assumed she had a mouthful of berries, but that didn’t make him feel any less annoyed.

Volsten spurred the horse into motion. “So, why don’t you eat meat?”

“It was once a living creature,” she said, “and I can’t live with that thought.”

“Why is that? Everything dies. You might as well take advantage of it.”

“But no one waits until they die. They kill and hurt. I prefer fruits and vegetables to the taste of meat anyway.”

“Ah ha!” Volsten snapped. “So you have eaten meat!”

“One or twice, when I was a youngling…”

“You raise a good point, dragon. Let’s say I fall over and die. No one killed me, there was no foul play. Could you eat me?”

“No!”

“Do I not look good enough to eat?” Volsten feigned offense.

“I don’t like meat at all. I hate the taste, I told you…”

Volsten turned to look at her. “Come on. Just a nibble. I wouldn’t mind.”

“You want me to bite you?” she asked. If not for the scales on her cheeks, Volsten wondered if he would see a blush.

“If I was dead? Sure.”

“No thank you!” she said.

“You’d just let me rot in the open?”

“I could bury you or something.”

“Well, I’d prefer to be eaten.” Volsten turned back to the road. “Make use of this pointless beauty!”

Xyra’s words were lost for a moment. “…What kind of preference is that?”

“Volsten’s.”

“Well I’d prefer a map, but I’m not getting one of those, am I?” Xyra said with surprising sharpness.

“Pray tell what you’d do with a map.”

“Go home!” Xyra said. Her grip around his waist grew all the tighter.

He could tell her the impossibility of such a thing, but he had no desire to be crushed by her sadness.