Everyone leapt up at once, Jo and Pavel snatching up their swords and flail, Serena’s hands igniting, Cruck’aa scrambling over the loveseat towards them. Just as quick, a single dagger sprouted out of the couch next to Serena’s leg, starting her.

“Do anything stupid,” Jarlaxle sneered, looking ridiculous in his black and gold stripped leather armor. “and the next one won’t be a miss.”

Serena froze, transfixed by the hate that seemed to pour from Jarlaxle’s narrowed eyes. Her gaze flicked over to Jo, her eyes going wide as she caught sight of another dagger, buried in the couch barely an inch away from Jo’s knee.

“That was fast.” Jo said flatly, her rapier pointed up. “Don’t think I caught that flying over here.”

“By all means, I can demonstrate again.”

“No need.” Jo lowered her weapon and gestured at all of them. “We can be civilized.”

Without hesitation, Pavel lowered his weapons behind her, his eyes never leaving Jarlaxle’s form; with hesitation, Serena extinguished her hands, fingers itching; without decency, Cruck’aa backed up until his legs hit the coffee table, clucking annoyingly with his tongue.

“I’ve yet to see a civilized person in this gods-forsaken city” He muttered.

Jarlaxle barked out a laugh. “You? Of all the things to say that?”

Cruck’aa bristled as Jarlaxle continued to laugh; Serena grimaced, then glanced back at Werond, heart beating in her chest.

All the color had drained from her face, turning it a ghastly shade of light brown; the whites of her eyes were clearly visible, and she did not react when Serena reached out to grab her arm. Her gaze never left Jarlaxle.

“Werond?” Serena whispered, tendrils of panic creeping into her chest.

She received no response.

“I must say,” Jarlaxle said. “it amuses me that you believed Graham, of all people, could keep out anyone. A geriatric. Although I suppose that doesn’t matter; Simon is such a respectable fellow, I’d be stunned if anyone kept their door shut to him. Never seemed to wonder how he got past the gate, though.”

Werond’s hands curled into fists as her body began to tremble; Serena stepped closer and released her arm, quickly signing, “It’ll be okay, I’m here.” but Werond’s gaze never left Jarlaxle. Serena, panic blossoming into fear, could do nothing but flip around and press her back into Werond, hoping in vain to quell her fear.

“Simon’s here as well?” Jo asked.

“Of course he is.” Jarlaxle snapped. “Him and half the Guard.”

“Half the guard, huh?”

“Perhaps more. Would you like to see?”

“Not really. I’d rather you’d leave if I were to be honest.”

“Leave? Ah, but the fun hasn’t even started yet.”

“What in the Nine Hells do you want with us!?” Pavel interjected, scaring Serena.

“So much! Oh, where to begin?” Jarlaxle smiled. “There’s quite a lot, actually.”

Werond’s hands wrapped around Serena’s waist, her fingers trembling as she whispered in an equally shaky voice, “I’m sorry.”

“Fill us in then.” Pavel said; Serena reached down and grasped Werond’s hands. “Because the way I see it, we’ve done nothing to you.”

“I don’t believe discovering one of my main distribution tunnels is doing ‘nothing to me’”. Jarlaxle said. “On the contrary, it’s exactly the opposite.”

“You’re working with the Dragon Cult then?”

“Them?” Jarlaxle spat the word out. “Gods no! They sometimes pay to use the tunnel but working with them?” He scoffed. “Last thing I’d do.”

“And why is that?” Jo asked.

“Oh, I’d love to answer that, but we both know we’re just wasting my time if I do.” The Drow shrugged. “After all, I still have many important errands to run after I deal with all of you.”

Werond went rigid behind Serena; Jarlaxle’s gaze snapped to them, sending a violent shiver down Serena’s spine.

“I’ve had enough of that.” Jarlaxle pointed to the corner of the room, away from the couches. “Get away from her.”

Without an ounce of hesitation, Werond untangled herself and moved around Serena; heart in her throat and terror in her chest, Serena grasped at Werond, trying to hold her back, only for Werond to pull herself out of her grip.

“Werond!” Serena signed at her back; her hands began to shake as Werond took her place in the corner of the room, well away from her. She turned to face them and hugged herself tightly, fingers digging into her arms.

“How easy it is to step aside.” Cruck’aa growled.

“Cruck’aa.” Jo said evenly.

“Oh, but he’s right.” Jarlaxle smiled. “Werond knows when to follow orders. It’s what makers her so invaluable. Ah,” He said, glancing towards her. “what would I do without you?”

“Don’t you talk to her like that!” Serena spat; each thunderous thud of her heart almost jerked her body, a growing heat accompanying it.

Jarlaxle rolled his eyes.

“The resemblance to your father is uncanny – you both get so worked up over the simplest things.” Jarlaxle looked over his shoulder and yelled down the foyer hallway. “Simon! I’ve had my fun.”

Jarlaxle looked back, almost bored, as Simon stepped into the room, moving to the side of him. Dressed in the steel plate mail of the City Guard, minus the red cloak, he looked no different from the average guard that walked the streets. A short sword was strapped to his waist, and his narrow face held a serious look as he regarded everyone within the room.

“As Major Captain of the Waterdeep City Guard,” He began, voice even. “every single person within this room is under arrest on suspicion of aiding in, or committing, terrorist activities. I ask that each of you surrender yourself peacefully, so that we may avoid any bloodshed. Be aware that this residence is surrounded, and any attempt to resist or escape will be met with lethal force. I ask that all of you make the right decision in –”

“Fuck you.” Serena growled, rage boiling in her chest, eyes still on Werond.

“What she said.” Pavel replied, unwinding his flail.

“I took you for an honorable man Simon,” Jo’s gestured with the tip of her rapier. “seems I was wrong.”

“There isn’t a single honorable person within this damnable city.” Cruck’aa spat.

Simon grimaced, looking crushed. Jarlaxle laughed and shook his head.

“Didn’t I say you’d be wasting your breath?” The Drow grinned.

“I had to try.” Simon said quietly.

“You didn’t. In a few hours, none of them will be a problem for you anymore.”

Werond gasped, squeezing her eyes shut; Jarlaxle’s gaze shot over to her, causing her to flinch violently, sending a sharp pain through Serena’s heart.

“A small bit of business to take care of before that.” Jarlaxle said. “They can’t be the only ones to receive punishment, now can they? After all, they learned about that tunnel from you. Am I wrong?” He grinned as Werond shook her head. “I never am. This, of course, means you’ve aided with terrorist activities – activities that ruined a part of the city, but more importantly, activates that directly impacted me. Which calls for quite the punishment.”

“Stop talking to her!” Serena hissed, as Werond ducked her head. “Bahamut’s Teeth, if –”

“I’ve quickly learned that anything a Lash has to say tends to be nothing but drivel and outright horse-shit.” Jarlaxle glared at Serena. “Keep your mouth shut when I’m talking, girl.”

Serena’s body moved on instinct, drawing upon the well of power within her, fingers twitching; before she could raise her hands, however, an arm wrapped around her chest, holding her in place.

“Don’t.” Pavel whispered as Serena’s head whipped around to glare at him; when had he gotten behind her? “Act impulsively and things might get worse.”

“Listen to goldilocks, girl.” Jarlaxle smiled; Serena shifted her glare back to him, her burning heart slamming in her chest. “Or don’t. Makes no difference to me.”

Jarlaxle reached behind his back and yanked loose a dagger, sheath and all, from his belt. He tossed it towards Werond, who watched as it clattered to the floor in front of her.

“Pick it up and unsheathe it.” Jarlaxle demanded.

Werond obeyed without hesitation, plucking the dagger from the ground; Serena shoved herself out of Pavel’s grasp and stepped forward, chest tight with panic.

“Werond, you…” Serena’s signs died upon her fingertips as Werond, without a glance her way, unsheathed the dagger, dropping its scabbard to the floor. The cold steel wavered in her hands, the light from the chandelier glinting on the blade.

“You have so many things to correct, and so little time to do so. But I thought I’d be generous and let you get started tonight.” Jarlaxle said, voice sickly sweet. “To begin, we must remove your little distraction, so that your mind may be clear for the future, as well as ensuring that my list of problems becomes drastically shorter. Do that, and we may begin again on the right foot.”

A cold terror washed over Serena, stealing her breath away; Werond stared at Jarlaxle, her amber eyes wide and glassy, mouth agape.

“J-Jarlaxle…” She croaked.

“Don’t look at me,” The Drow grinned. “I’m not your distraction.”

Werond’s gaze snapped to Serena, sending a jolt through her; tears poured down her cheeks as her shoulders slumped, dagger held limp against her body.

“Werond,” Serena’s trembling fingers signed. “don’t listen to him, you don’t have to do this.”

Werond – her first and only love – shook her head. Her glassy eyes flicked about Serena, searching for something, her body leaning towards her. After one dreadful moment, though, Werond looked back to Jarlaxle, her body hunched forward, prostrating herself in such a way that Serena had never seen before.

“Please.” She croaked. “I-I can’t –”

“Oh, but you must.” Jarlaxle said. “You wouldn’t want another Tai on your hands, now would you?”

Werond flinched and halfway curled in on herself, a great racking sob tearing through her body, her knees almost giving out; Serena jerked forward once more, now almost past the couches, only to freeze in place as Jarlaxle mirrored her, his rapier half-way out its sheath; heat blossomed in her chest, coalescing with her terror, as Jarlaxle wagged a finger.

“Interfering will only make things worse, girl.” He said with a smile.

Tears began to roll down Serena’s cheeks, sizzling into steam as the flames within her chest grew; trembling, fighting against those flames that urged – pleaded – demanded her body to move, she glanced back at Pavel and Jo, looking for support, and almost screamed as she found none. Both stood with their knees bent, weapons clutched tightly, watching, but making no move, no indication that they would act. Cruck’aa, who’d gotten behind the coffee table, watched with narrowed eyes, mirroring Jo and Pavel.

Serena turned back to the still weeping Werond, the flames within her licking up her throat, drying her mouth, and burning her tongue.

“Werond, please.” Serena struggled to sign. “Y-you don’t have to do this. Please –”

“Oh, but she does.” Jarlaxle replied, still grinning. “She knows what will –”

“SHUT UP!”

Serena felt the flames burn through her skin, igniting her back and arms; Pavel cursed behind her, boots thudding on the wood as he staggered backwards; Jarlaxle cocked his head, his red eyes reflecting the light of the flames, like a pair of twin suns.

“That is a new development, though I suppose the signs always were odd.” He shook his head. “It’s a shame really – I would have loved to have gotten to know you better.”

“Fuck. You.” The flames crept down her arms and over her neck, urging her – demanding her to act.

“If I haven’t heard that one before, girl.”

Werond suddenly straightened up, startling Serena, causing the flames to flicker; her body still trembled with the aftershock of her sobs, but the dagger was now clutched tightly between her hands.

“I-I c-can’t,” Werond chocked out. “J-Jarlaxle –”

“No more whining.” Jarlaxle spat, eyes hardening. “Make your choice, girl. Either you do it, or I do.”

“Werond,” Serena pleaded, the heat within her searing her heart. “please, you don’t have to listen to him. Please!”

Werond’s gaze flicked to Serena’s; their eyes met, amber to the sea, and within them, Serena witnessed the last piece of Werond shatter.

The tremors that consumed Werond halted all at once; tears still pouring down her face, Werond went rigid, her dagger held stock still.

“Werond.” Serena’s body racked. “Please…”

“I’m sorry.” Werond whispered back.

Werond raised the blade and plunged it into her throat; she jerked once, then yanked it to the side, crimson spraying out immediately.

The inferno within Serena exploded, matched only by her scream.

…

Brilliant light poured over Pavel, blinding him, and for a single moment, he believed that the afterlife had come to greet him. The pain he felt a second after, however, immediately disproved that.

His body smashed against what could only have been the walls at the back of the room, pain exploding across his back, ripping a scream from out his lungs. A searing heat blasted him a moment later, burning through his skin in a heartbeat. Unable to see, Pavel howled in agony and dropped his weapons, slapping and scratching at his body in a vain attempt to extinguish the blistering flames that consumed him.

Just as quickly as they ignited, however, the pain vanished, and with it the light that blinded him. Pavel tensed up, sweat pouring down his face, as he blinked away the sunspots that clouded his vision, cursing when it finally cleared.

Werond’s house was burning.

The entire building had been engulfed in brilliant red flames, igniting the walls, burning through the ceiling, flickering across the floor – the house had been utterly consumed. The flames did not advance, however, and seemed content to rage in place, burning with a reluctance that Pavel had never seen before.

Everything else that had once stood within the room had been destroyed as well; the couches had ejected outwards, one through the walls, the other into the kitchen, both utterly ruined; fragments of the black rock table were strewn about the room, a massive chunk having gone through the now shattered windows to Pavel’s right, a now gaping hole in the walls that led to the patio; even the fireplace in the corner had been decimated, reduced to rubble.

His friends fared no better; as Pavel clambered to his feet, Cruck’aa came staggering in through the massive hole, feathers ruffled, eyes wide, while Jo emerged from the kitchen, clothing and hair a mess, a stunned express painted across her face; off towards the side, in the corner of the room farthest from him, Serena kneeled over Werond’s limp body, still shaking, hands grasping at her slick and stained purple tunic.

Serena screamed again, the flames around them surging in response.

“What –” Pavel began, mouth dry; his words died in his throat as Jarlaxle stepped back into the room from the foyer hallway. His black and gold leathers looked flawless still, and only his hat, slightly singed and askew, gave any indication that the explosion had hit him as well.

“Always a fucking surprise with them.” Jarlaxle spat, glaring at Serena’s hunched form.

Pavel’s heart smashed in his chest, fear spiking through him as he tried to understand just how Jarlaxle escaped untouched; Jo and Cruck’aa quickly stepped towards either side of him, both eyeing Jarlaxle.

“Any plans?” Cruck’aa asked.

“I…fuck.” Jo breathed as Simon staggered back into the room, armor as burned as his eyebrows. “I’ve got nothing.”

“What the hell was that anyways?”

“Something that Serena did? I –”

“Guys.” Pavel said, silencing them both; despite the fear that bleed into his heart, a coldness had descended over him, focusing his thoughts, and steadying his hands.

“We can’t go through those two.” He said evenly, watching as Simon whispered into Jarlaxle’s ear. “Need to go through the back patio instead. Probably surrounded though. Figure out a way for us to get out of here, clear a path if you need to.” Pavel reached down and plucked his sword and flail from off the floor. “I’ll buy us time.”

Rudely – though unsurprisingly – Cruck’aa flipped on his heel and dashed out onto the patio. Thankfully – though unsurprisingly – Jo hesitated, glancing towards the corner of the room.

“Serena –” She began.

“She’s not going anywhere.” Pavel said, a pang in his chest. “I’ll keep her safe. Go with Cruck’aa.”

“Are you –”

“No. But we don’t have a choice right now.”

Jo bit her lip but nodded. She turned on her heel and dashed out the hole in the wall.

After a moment’s hesitation, Pavel sucked in a deep breath, and moved towards the center of the burning room. Avoiding the odd flames, he planted himself where he thought the black rock table once sat and glared at the two men across the way from him.

Both Jarlaxle and Simon had watched the conversation without a word, and even now, the pair stared at him; a hard look had dug its way into Simon’s eyes, though Jarlaxle still looked faintly amused.

“Pavel,” Simon said, stepping towards him. “you don’t have to do this, you can still –”

“Nine Hells, shut up!” Pavel roared, flicking his wrist, sending his flail whirling in a blur of grey. “I’ve no interest in whatever shit you have to say! What makes you think I even trust you in the first place?!”

“Because you don’t have a choice.”

“I’ll be the judge of that!”

Simon grimaced and shook his head. Without a word, he moved towards Pavel, his gaze flicking past him. Pavel twitched his hand, aiming the flail towards Simon’s unguarded head.

Something blurred in the air.

Pavel yelled and leapt to the side, towards the ruined kitchen and away from Simon; the tell-tale thunk of a dagger sounded behind him.

Another blurred at him, aimed at his chest; Pavel leapt again, barely avoiding the second as it flew past him.

Cursing, he glared at Jarlaxle, who stood smiling and wiggling the fingers on his left hand.

“Please excuse Simon, he has other matters to attend to.” Jarlaxle casually said; Pavel glanced over and grimaced as Simon stepped out onto the patio. “Besides, he’s already lost to you once. He wouldn’t want to fight you again.”

“He’s a coward then.” Pavel growled, slowly making his way back to the center of the burning room.

“Oh, certainty. He’s always been loath to engage someone of equal ability.”

Pavel halted, glancing around at the flames that littered the floor. “And you think yourself better?”

“I don’t ‘think’, I know.” The Drow rested his hands on his hips. “When it comes to others, there is simply no one my equal. That isn’t a boast, it’s the harsh truth. And by the end of this, you’ll have no choice but to agree with me.”

Jarlaxle blurred.

It was only by the grace of Pavel’s instincts, hammered into him over the course of his entire life, did his arm reflexively move in time to parry the rapier thrust aimed at his throat.

Pavel’s teeth ground together as the reverberation rocketed through his arm, up his shoulder, and through his chest, the pain almost forcing him to the ground.

He was going to lose.

The rapier flashed again; Pavel ducked, point flying overhead.

He thrust with his sword, too close for his flail, aiming towards Jarlaxle’s heart – it missed by a wide margin, so fast did the Drow step to the side.

The rapier came again; pain seared across Pavel’s cheek as it caught him, blood spraying from the cut.

Cursing, Pavel swung once – twice with his sword, missing both, making room as he backed towards the patio; Jarlaxle gave no quarter, and kept pace with him.

Three more thrusts – three more scores; Pavel ground his teeth together as hot pain sliced through his chest and arms, blood soaking into his clothes.

He swung again with his sword and again it passed through air as Jarlaxle leapt back – Nine Hells, all the way across the room, back towards the foyer hallway.

“I’ve seen you fight, you know. Against Simon and Harshnag.” Jarlaxle called out over the flames. “And while it pains me to compliment someone as pedestrian as yourself –”

Pavel bellowed and charged across the room, swinging his flail in a wide arc at Jarlaxle’s smug grin.

Jarlaxle’s barely twitched as his rapier directed the head away, causing it to smash into the floor next to him.

Still screaming, Pavel slashed with his sword as he drew close.

Jarlaxle moved to the side, faster than Pavel could comprehend, his sword biting the air; the Drow kicked out and caught Pavel in his stomach, sending him sprawling backwards onto the floor.

“– I will admit, you show promise.” Jarlaxle continued. “I could have used someone like yourself. Wasted potential honestly.”

Pavel shoved himself backwards and scrambled to his feet, sword and flail held at the ready, sucking in air as though he’d run a mile. Jarlaxle smiled and lowered his rapier, giving Pavel the distinct impression that he was allowed to stand up.

He cursed, that dizzying realization of imminent defeat descending upon him once.

Pavel shook his head; that didn’t matter. He had to buy time. Even if it meant impaling himself on the end of Jarlaxle’s rapier, Pavel had to stall for his friends.

A scream sounded from the corner of the room.

His eyes flicked to Serena’s trembling form, her head bowed over Werond’s body. He bit his lip, and sucked in one last deep breath, and turned his attention back to Jarlaxle, who looked back to him from Serena.

“Tell me.” Jarlaxle said. “What’s going on in that mind of yours? I see you thinking. I rarely get to hear the thoughts of one about to die.”

“Fuck you.” Pavel growled.

“Do better.” Jarlaxle sneered.

Pavel bellowed and swung with his flail, head arcing towards Jarlaxle’s face; the Drow flicked his rapier up, ready in an instant to parry it away.

As the tip made contact, the head of the flail detonated into silver flames.

Pavel yelled and leapt back as the Drow was flung backwards, smashing into the frame of the foyer hallway; fury lit Jarlaxle’s eyes, burning shades of red, the leathers along his arm thoroughly burned.

“Always something new with you people.” He growled.

Pavel glanced down at his flail, eyes wide; for the first time, he found himself agreeing with Jarlaxle.

Another blur.

Pavel yelled and instinctively dodged back, though he knew he was too late; the tip of Jarlaxle’s rapier bit into his cheek, drawing another gout of blood.

Grimacing, he swung a backhand with his sword; sparks trailed off the blade like stars as the sword ignited the air around it, pulling forth a burst of flames that missed Jarlaxle by inches.

The Drow leapt back again, breathing deep, wide eyes boring a hole through Pavel.

Pavel grinned; he hadn’t a clue what was happening, but he wasn’t about to question the gift so thoughtfully deposited into his hands.

He raised his flail arm and flicked his wrist, sending it whirling above his head; silver flames erupted over him like a fiery halo, catching and igniting the ceiling as he swung the burning head at Jarlaxle, the flail seemingly longer than it was before.

The Drow cursed and dodged towards the side to Pavel’s left; Pavel kept up the fiery assault, silver flames flying as Jarlaxle bobbed and weaved around the room, inching towards the patio.

The head smashed into Jarlaxle’s arm, igniting it, causing him to scream; Pavel laughed, pulled the flail back, and dashed at Jarlaxle, swinging with his sword.

Jarlaxle, arm still burning, ducked under the wave of flame that burned over his head, flying past him into the courtyard; for a single moment, it lit up the night, giving Pavel a brief glimpse at Jo and Simon outside, locked in a duel.

Jarlaxle suddenly leapt up and into Pavel, tackling him to the ground; Pavel grunted as the flail slipped from his grip.

He bellowed and swung his sword into Jarlaxle’s side; it ignited, biting into his leathers, burning his side, but halted as though Pavel had struck stone.

Jarlaxle’s face contorted in pain, sweat glistening off his forehead; with his freehand, he punched Pavel square in the jaw.

It was like a hammer; Pavel’s scream turned to a gurgle as he felt his teeth snap and his jaw crack; brilliant pain flared through his head, sending stars into his vision once more.

Jarlaxle pulled back his fist and punched him again; Pavel’s vision went black from the pain.

Still gripping his sword tightly, Pavel flailed with his other hand until it found purchase; a brilliant, painless heat erupted from it, causing him to grin as Jarlaxle screamed.

Pavel blinked rapidly, his vision blurring back into reality; he could barely make out Jarlaxle over him, a stream of silver flames pouring over him; in his peripherals, Pavel made out seven grey shapes rushing past them towards the patio.

As his vision fully cleared, Jarlaxle slapped Pavel’s hand away, looking only slightly singed. To his side, the flames that engulfed his sword had flickered out.

Grimacing, Pavel ripped the sword away from Jarlaxle and swung it again, the flames reigniting instantly.

Jarlaxle twisted his rapier over his body and parried the blow; a dagger flicked into existence in his left hand – from seemingly thin air – and he drove it into Pavel’s chest.

Pavel jerked and reflexively gasped, sword falling from his grip, extinguished, as pain exploded across his chest; Jarlaxle grinned savagely and twisted the dagger, tearing a scream from Pavel’s lungs.

“Those stupid flames of yours made me miss your heart,” Jarlaxle jeered as Pavel grasped his arms, trying in vain to shove him away. “but it doesn’t matter. It’s poisoned all the same.”

As if on cue, Pavel’s chest began to burn viciously, poison working its way through him; he screamed again, not as loud though, as he felt his strength failing him, his arms losing their will to work.

“It’s easier if you just let it happen.” Jarlaxle spat, leaning onto the blade, his grin deepening as Pavel’s eyes went wide.

“Fuck. You!” Pavel said through gritted teeth.

“What a pair of last words.”

Pavel spat in the Drow’s face, a thick glob of blood and mucus smacking against his cheek; Jarlaxle flinched, his grin dropping.

“Fuck off!” Pavel roared.

As though he had spoken some crude command, his hands, still wrapped around the Drow’s arms, ignited with silver flames.

Jarlaxle cursed and tried to pull away; Pavel grinned as he tightened his grip, refusing to let go.

“You want better last words?!” He gasped, black slowly creeping back into his vision. “Fine! Let’s see which one of us gets to hell first!”

The flames around his hands flared fiendishly, blinding him, driving out the black with a brilliant white light; Jarlaxle screamed just as they exploded, and it was the last sound that Pavel heard.

…

No – No – Bahamut’s Teeth, please no, please no, please –

The dagger came out with a wet sound, slipping from Serena’s slick hands and clattering to the floor. By then, it was –

Serena gasped, her body jerking, her own dagger shoved through her heart.

The light from her hands illuminated the ruined neck. Serena pressed them against the wound, almost in it, ignoring the blood – so much blood, how?! – that continued to spill – it kept coming, it kept coming, oh Bahamut’s Teeth it wouldn’t stop! The cut was almost perfect, it was too much, she couldn’t fix it – she couldn’t –

Her body folded in on itself as a horrible sob racked her body; cold fear crushed her chest, cut off her breath, she couldn’t breath – her hands slipped down and Serena braced herself against –

The last bit of air was pushed out of Werond’s lungs, a gentle sigh through the gash in her throat.

Serena gasped and snatched her hands away, trembling, and stared with wide, blurry eyes at the bloody handprints they left behind.

How was there so much blood?! How?! She couldn’t get it back in, her healing, her magic, none of it worked, none of it worked!

How do you stem a river of blood!? How do put it back!? Could she put it back, what – what was she – she couldn’t –

Serena’s gaze traveled up. Flecks of lifeless amber stared through her, framed with a halo of red.

Dagger twisting in her heart, Serena’s hands fell and clasped Werond’s face – that angular face that she loved more than herself – as light come flooding back into them, illuminating the husk of her love.

It did nothing.

Serena screamed – screamed until her throat bled, yet those two pieces of amber gave her no response.

She pressed her forehead against Werond’s – now growing cold – gasping, choking on her tears, dying from the blade driven so deep within her.

Serena was alone. Alone with no one to hold, no one to comfort her. For the second time in her life, Serena had been left behind – abandoned.

Her tears fell from her face, mixing with the blood that stained the wood as another sob racked her body, tearing her soul away, leaving her with the gaping realization that she had utterly failed the one person who needed her the most.

Serena’s eyes flung open as a brilliant heat flooded through her chest; she couldn’t do it. She refused to believe it. She couldn’t live like this again!

She pushed herself away, tears streaming, chest ablaze, hands trembling – there had to be something, Bahamut’s Teeth please – anything, there had to be something –

She withdrew her hands, silver light streaming from them, casting a horrible glow over Werond’s body. And as they shook and trembled, as Serena’s world continued to come burning down around her, a glint of light reflected just to the side of that horrible gash.

Serena snatched at it – snatched at it again as it slipped from her hands – and clutched the necklace that was almost forgotten, treasured no more.

The gaping hole within her burning, Serena pressed the diamonds to her mouth – tasted the blood that coated them – and leaned back over Werond’s body, held up only by the weight of her conviction.

Praying – pleading – beseeching, Serena took her god into her hands, her pray the single word that burned within her:

“Please.”