-Elder Zeale-

Several nights passed, and yet E’letaesi still smelled of blood and death. Despite the fact that the ceremony was, by and large, a success, the fact that many walkers had died and in a brutal manner settled heavily on the minds of the elves. Though the walkers knew the risks and walked with death daily, they too were shaken by the violence of their kindred’s deaths. But the same fear that made people agree with her also made them wary of making any motions against Varia. Simply put, few were convinced they had people enough to subdue Varia long enough to kill him by any means. So far the only people willing to get close were his companions, and the only one probably capable of matching him was Maddox, who clearly had no intentions to end his life. So fear and debate festered and spread through the village while the company remain on its outskirts.

Of the elves, Viansola was the loudest in her defense of the outsiders, and the one who would be prepared and willing to fight for them. She, and others, were firmly against removing Varia from the already fragile world, and took up guarding their home. Brom and Sabre stay close as well, the Arcturian assassin seeming especially aware that Zeale intended to move on them. Maddox stay in the home, and was rarely seen by anyone except for the occasional bath and food. And Varia slept still, weary and exhausted from the binding ritual. The perfect time to kill him, without him able to fight back, without his demon waking to defend his host.

The moon was high, illuminating E’letaesi, splashing silver along Zeales bared shoulders. She strode through the quite village, barefoot and dressed in draped robes of white. Her hands clasped in front of her stomach daintily, though her eyes were set deep and cold. She crossed into a small home, one where the Walkers would eat and whisper their incantations. The moment she stepped into the place, every hair on her body stood on end, vibrating with magics. Her skin goose pimpled, and a shudder ran through her, but chin held high, she continued into the hall, and then into the foyer.

There, many other elves sat, waiting for Zeales entrance. Walkers, elders, mothers and fathers, warriors. Many were there, but Viansola’s party had just as many. Zeale bowed her head, and those sitting bent their heads further, and for longer. Once her hands unclasped, and she rose them, the eyes of her party returned to her.

“My loves. We have gathered tonight, under spells of silence, to address the demon in our midst.” She began, and a soft murmur of agreement rose from the party. “He must be killed, but even after the display during the bindings, where several of our beloved Walkers were slayed, murdered in cold blood, Viansola has rallied her party to protect the demon and his companions. We cannot allow this, we must rid the world of the darkness that plagues us now.”

Soft whispers of ‘yes’ sounded from the group, rising above the whispered spells of the Walkers who surrounded the group, their mournful sounds filling the air and nearly drowning the others out. “How will we kill him? His companions will not allow it, Viansola will not let us near them. Even if we could draw him out and away from them, he is too powerful for us, even without a demon living within him.”

“We must do it now, while he is weak.”

“How? He sleeps now, but what of Maddox? He will not allow us to do this.”

“We must kill him too.”

“And how do you propose we do that? He is powerful, as powerful as the Demon of Arcturus, and Viansola is quite fond of him. Would you face her as well?”

Zeale allowed the group to bicker among themselves for a moment before she raised her hand, silencing the others. “Endar is right, we must kill them both. Baykiq is right as well, we will not be able to do this with Viansola here. She will not leave, not until she is sure they are safe.”

“If they leave, the forest will kill them. Let the trees do this.”

“We cannot spill his blood in the Graves, it will taint our protectors and kill the forest.”

“We will not spill the Demon of Arcturus’ blood in E’letaesi. The only way we can do away with such darkness is by purifying both. We must offer Varia to the lands. He must be buried, and the roots of our forefathers will subdue the demon and remove both from our lands.” Viansola declared.

“How! With Maddox and Viansola-“

“The Guards of the Graves.” Zeale declared confidently. “The Guard will be summoned, and once the Demon and his party leave here, they will strike. They will kill Viansola’s Er Rian general, kill the Arcturian spy and the Nihalian Prince. They will then return the Demon of Arcturus to the purified lands and bury him.” Her group murmured in response to her plan, sharing looks and agreements among each other.

“The Guards have not been roused in a millennia.”

“Aye, and many have withered to dust. Others still have rooted in E’letaesi and are no longer sentient and able to protect as they used to.” Zeale gestured to one of her guards, and he dipped his head low. “There are three who have stirred when called upon. They have been provided with thoughts of Varia and Maddox, and know their scent and feel. They are prepared to find them, and know what tasks must be completed.”

“Will the Guards see them as a threat? If they haven’t woken yet… the demon is bound to Varia, and is no longer surface deep. Unless the Arcturian has the blood of elves on his hands…”

“He does.” Zeale declared and her guard stepped forward, placing a small, silk package before the others. It sat there, the rest not willing to reach over to open it. Most knew what it was before one brave man opened it.

Ailmars hand, now gaunt and tight, clawed upwards still, the ring on his finger untouched by the wood elves. “Ailmar, and the rest, are dead. The Demon of Arcturus slew them in the caves, and returned with the elder heart. Viansola praised him for his duty, she did not decry the massacre.”

“All of them… dead? Truly?” One woman whispered, her hand clasped over her mouth and nose.

“Most. Many fled the onslaught. The eastern tribe was weakened with shadow sickness, and their numbers thin. But Ailmar was strong, young. He merely wanted to save his people, to heal them with the Elder Heart. He did not deserve to die in the manner he did.” Zeale lowered to sit, tucking her legs beneath her, now eye level with her people.

“How did he…. Was it a respectful death? A good death?” One warrior asked, voice low, as if knowing the answer already.

“No. He was locked in a cage with others of his clan, stricken with the shadow sickness. This… was all that remained.” Zeale’s voice grew softer with sorrow, her eyes downcast onto the hand between her and her party.

The group was quiet then, even the whispers of the Walkers were gone. A silent prayer was given to their cousins in the caves, whose lives, like so many others, were ended by Varia’s disregard for life. The quiet seemed like it would drag on for the rest of the night, before one of the elders spoke again.

“Awaken the Guard. Do what must be done to the Demon and his companions. Are we in agreement?”

“Yes, this is agreeable.” The others spoke in unison, and Zeale smiled to them.

“Very well. We will see it done.” She spoke, rising to her feet once more. Her guard stepped forward again, wrapping Ailmars hand back in its silk coffin, and removed it from the center of the room. Without another word, Zeale turned, hands clasped before her once more, chin high and eyes crinkled in a smile, and she strode from the hall.

-Maddox-

Varia slept for over a week. Maddox stayed at the other’s side most of that time, relieved in small bursts by Brom who would have hovered constantly if allowed. But Varia was not yet safe, nor was their party. Brom and Sabre were moved to a hut closer to Varia and Maddox, divesting them of their previous status as not, or at least less threatening than the other two. After the ceremony Zeale was on a rampage and chaos began to slowly envelope the Graves.

Maddox remained aloof and immune to the fear and hatred spreading, heedless and unconcerned with the conspiracies brewing against him and his companions. It was partially due to his belief that the elves would not come to a decision before Varia woke or they would be too afraid to make the choice they wanted. It was also due to the fact that much of that week he spent only half himself.

It was questionable whether he or She watched over Varia more during that time. They definitely switched in and out, primarily because Maddox refused to let Her familiarity with Melkor be swept under the rug. As they waited for Varia to wake Maddox grilled Her on Melkor, what she knew and remembered. She did not give him any answers, at least none he fully believed. She insisted that Demons of their caliber, their age, were always vaguely aware of others like them, near them. That all Demons would speak that way to one another. Viansola was there sometimes, recording the revelations into the book of demons. He allowed this, only because beyond his questions, he was worried for Varia.

Sometimes Maddox would curl around Varia in bed and wake to a world neither of his own making nor the Graves. The landscape didn’t always make sense, but like when he drifted away to Her, he knew where he was going by some strange intuition. He always found Varia. Sometimes as he knew him, sometimes in a more broken state, sometimes at ages and states that he had never witnessed firsthand. But he always found him and stayed close, quieting the screams and soothing the heat and pain, softening the rage and hate that threatened to consume him. He knew She was seeking out Melkor at those time, but for what purpose and end, he neither cared nor knew. The other could not escape.

On the 8th day of Varia’s slumber Viansola returned carrying a small box. Opening it revealed a ring carved from polished wood, wood Maddox recognized as from the same tree, the same Walker, that provided the sheath for his sword. Fine slots were cut into it through which spun fibers were weaved through. Viansola explained that they were fibers of various trees and plants that aided in purification and containment.

“I hear what you say, and yet all he, I, and anyone else will see is an old woman playing match-maker. Though I suppose he would not be averse to being my damsel.” Maddox said, lifting the ring from the box. Though the ring itself was light he could feel a certain heaviness coming from it. He slipped it on Varia’s right ring finger, only mildly surprised that it fit snugly.

“Hmmph, if he’s a damsel, I’m an ogre. Think of it as you will. Zeale has grown her camp and I fear they will come to a decision soon. When the moon rises I aim to take my leave. I suggest you not linger long after.” Viansola warned, rising and kissing Maddox’s temple.

“Take care of yourself, child. Every time I see you more burdens have been added to your back. Just do not forget that She too is a demon. Keep to your own desires.” Maddox glanced down at Varia’s hand in his, the ring he had placed there. As if his and Her desires could be different. “They are different.” She said aloud, as if she could read his thoughts. “Even if the actions taken are the same.”

She left soon after, leaving Maddox with much to think about. Varia continued to sleep, but his lips grew pink once more, and the little color he had in his face joined shortly after. Shallow breaths became deeper, more stable, and the shifting and pained groans lessened. Maddox passed time the next several days alone besides the occasional visit from Sabre. Naturally, Sabre noticed the ring and cracked a few jokes, though something about the way his golden eyes sharpened told Maddox that for a brief moment, he was panicked by the idea that… Varia would ever marry Maddox. He couldn’t, he wouldn’t anyway. And neither would live long enough for Maddox to even consider such a notion, and Maddox assured his friend that he would indeed spend the rest of his life alone.

Finally, when the moon was high one evening, a shuddered breath left Varia. His breathing became less deep, quicker, panicked, and lighter than it had been. His brows twitched, and he shifted in the bed. Maddox lifted his gaze up from where he was reading, a grin pulling at his lips. Varia rolled away from him, or the light of the window rather, and soon the shudder in his breath was gone, his shoulders heaving as he sighed. He shifted, and Maddox watched his hand jerk towards his face, fingers stretching out while he no doubt took in the ring.

“What the fuck is that?” Varia’s voice was hoarse, small. It sounded exactly like one would imagine it would after napping for nearly 10 days.

“It’s called a ring, obviously. A lot of things happened while you’ve been napping.” Maddox said with a sideways grin, moving to sit on the bed next to the other. He picked up Varia’s hand, turning it over as if admiring the circle of polished wood. His fingers stroked over it as he gave Varia a considering look, his lips suggesting humor though his eyes were less playful. "You don’t like it? I can get you another one when we get to the coast.”

Not that it meant this one would be removed. Even so, it did not mean that Maddox couldn’t have a little fun with the little demon and perhaps make him blush. The thought of Varia blushing over the comment made Maddox grin even wider, as he was sure all it inspired in the other was loathing.

Varia’s scowl lifted briefly, but was back before Maddox could even react. “It’s for Dor’Goth then? What does it do?”

Maddox sighed, reaching over to the small table besides the bed and pouring Varia water from the phial he kept nearby. He wished Varia would play along… for once. Arcturus took many things from Varia, but a sense of humor was almost the most tragic one of all. “The rings function is to help contain and control the Demon. Much like Cithrel, it will temper his powers once he wakes, and he will be easier to live with.”

Varia greedily took the water, shifting to sit properly on the bed, gazing down at the bandages wrapped around his arms, hands and torso. He didn’t seem surprised, which was probably a good thing. It meant he at least remembered some things. Though, it could mean that Varia was just so used to being wounded he was no longer surprised by waking to bandages and pain.

While Varia drank, Maddox took his free hand, turning it over and pushing the bandages to the side. He had many wounds, all superficial, but his hand was burned terribly. Dor’Goth touched the barrier, and though Varia was human, the magic reacted violently. They were concerned, for a moment, that Varia would be unable to wield a sword, but Maddox and Brom quickly reminded Viansola and Sabre that Varia could wield his sword with either hand. This would not cripple him, not in the least.

“Now that you are awake we will leave at sunrise. Things have grown hostile here and the longer we delay, the more likely the elves will be less than peaceable. We have overstayed their hospitality.” Maddox said, taking the cup once more to fill it. Their travel packs were already packed by the door, had been for days now. Maddox had wanted to waste no time between Varia’s waking and their departure.

“Brom and Sabre scouted ahead. We’ll head towards the coast and follow it to port where we will sail for Nihal’s eastern border. There we can regroup before looking to the coast. We will attempt to connect with those from our faction along the way, figure out what is happening and who is still friend, who has become foe. I imagine we will cross a few Arcturian raiding parties that you can either try to escape or persuade to our side. I leave that to you.” Maddox said.

“Your faction… I thought they would much rather leash me than allow me to walk by your side.” Varia responded, before he sighed, his eyebrow twitching in obviously annoyance at something, who knew what this time. He remained quiet for a long moment, and Maddox allowed him to work out whatever he was thinking of. Finally, Varia placed the emptied cup on the table, and rolled his shoulders to crack his back.

“Perhaps avoiding Arcturian raiding parties would be best. The moment they realize we’re not only alive, but together, we will have much larger concerns to worry about.” he said, shifting his legs to the side of the bed, wincing at the stiffness in his joints.

Seeing Varia reel in what was undoubtedly dark thoughts, seeing that small, lithe body, still bared and worn from battling a fucking demon… Maddox wanted to ravage Varia right then and there. But he could not, not now. Perhaps on the road…

Maddox caught his thoughts, pondering them. He had not really given much conscious thought to how long this thing between them would last or even the nature of it. He knew it was real, unique, and something as indispensable as breathing, but that did not mean he had thought about what that implied. Now he was talking about on the road, planning a future for it amidst the uncertainty and violence that was his and Varia’s life. But was not turned off by that thought, nor did he find it strange, which was strange. By all logic, this between them should end soon after they left the graves, when Varia was no longer in danger of possession and had more access to his allies. But Varia didn’t want to leave, it seemed. He wasn’t going to put up a fight about staying with Maddox, being allies.

There was of course the chance that Varia was lying, biding his time until he had the upper hand. But it didn’t seem that way and Maddox had not known the other to be very good at dissembling.

“The only leash they will have confidence in is one that keeps you at my side. Sabre’s reaction to you is the common one. I’m the only one crazy enough to trust you and to hold you to that trust.” Maddox said, standing and holding out a hand for the other, helping him steady himself and encouraging him to take several steps, to work up his strength. Once they left, they would need to be fast. The hostility in the graves was growing, and they would need to be swift when they left this place.

“You do not trust me.” Varia grumbled, his gaze shooting towards the window. Beyond the trees somewhere, the sun would rise soon. Already the darkened sky to the east was lightening to a deep blue. Varia knew he would need to gain his bearings quickly, and he allowed Maddox to lead him around the small home.

“I do. You are many things, Varia, but you are not a liar. I trust that you’ll do what you’ve always done, that you will continue on, to fight. To watch me with caution, to make certain I am acting to whatever standards you may have.” Maddox leaned into Varia, despite his groan of protest. “I trust that you will always challenge me, and that you will bring hell down upon those who wronged you.”

“That includes you, foul beast.” Varia hissed, though a twinkle in his eye told Maddox that if Varia was even capable of smiling, he would have in that moment. “Bring me hell, then.” Maddox whispered, allowing his lips to dip lower, brushing against Varia’s. “So long as you are there.” He teased, shifting his lips to press against the mess of hair atop of Varia’s head.

Varia would have responded something fierce and angry, Maddox was sure, but a splitting, deep roar tore through the forest and echoed around them, stopping any venom that may have left Varia. Birds flew from tops of trees, and the ground seemed to quiver. Varia turned his gaze to the window, his hand grasping Maddox’s arm painfully. “What was that?” He whispered, a long moment after the roar died down to dark silence once more.

Maddox joined Varia in looking out the window, his brow creasing briefly. He could recall stories, his time here growing up, but nothing in this forest was large enough to make that sound. Only ancient stories of demons long ago, and most were slumbering or dead. He was certain, though, that Zeale was behind the sound.

“I do not know. But I would bet whatever made that sound is waiting for us. I just hope it doesn’t get Brom and Sabre before we reach them.”

Maddox sent them ahead to scout, but also to create distance between the two and himself and Varia. They were not a threat to the elves alone, the elves would only target Varia, and Maddox by default.

“Should we leave now, then? So that whatever that was doesn’t have time to trap us?” Varia inquired, flexing his wounded hand in anticipation.

“No. If you were able to use your abilities in the forest, then I would agree that now would be best. But we won’t be able to navigate the forest in the dark, much less see whatever is hunting us. We should wait for dawn, and you should get your strength back.”

Whatever was waiting for them was a problem. Viansola warned him against something from Elven lore, the Old Guard of the Forest, but he was not sure what that was, what it meant. The forest itself was dangerous as it were, anything additional would be quite a challenge.

Maddox tore his eyes from the window, moving instead to Varias clothes and picking through them. “Viansola returned our weapons and armor.” He said, grasping the hilt of the old short sword that Varia now owned. “Are you able to grasp your sword, commander?”

That dark look Maddox had come to recognize as foul memories flashed through Varias gaze, but instead of speaking on it, as usual, Varia stepped forward. Maddox turned the sword, grasping the sheathed and extending the hilt towards him instead. He almost smiled when Varia closed his wounded hand around the blade, pulling it from its scabbard. The ring glistened against his raw flesh, and Varia looked more beautiful than he ever had.

Always the warrior.

Behind him, the shadows on the wall twitched.