Why was she so slow! Why couldn't she run faster?! She had to get to him! There was still time!

  Her thoughts ran in circles as she clutched the god-grade healing potion, cursing at the world for being in her way.

  Until she reached him, his body slowly emptying of blood, puncture wounds too numerous to count.

  It didn't matter. Only the potion did, as she uncorked it, dousing his body with half of it, then opening his mouth and jamming the bottle within, shaking it to speed its emptying. She stared at him, waiting for the miracle to occur.

  Leandro's voice was out of sync as he spoke from her side, his tone solemn. “Girl, Niala... there is not a potion in the world that can heal him.”

  But he was wrong. Her potion could.

  She felt a hand grasp her shoulder, the veteran's voice manifesting itself again. “Stop looking at him, Niala. There is nothing-”

  His voice hung, as David's flesh began to sputter, before growing to a sizzle, a faint violet light peeking through his wounds. The tissues tightened, reconnecting, healing.

  The process accelerated. The unnatural darkness that the Fel had brought began to unravel, the sun's light shining upon them once more.

  Under everyone's stare, David's body stitched itself back pristine.

  But it remained still. It drew no breath.

  Niala's eyes remained locked upon him as she kept waiting.

  Swirling winds coalesced next to her. After a few seconds, Anaakendi spoke.

  “Child, he is gone.”

  Niala's mouth moved on its own. “No.”

  “His body is whole, but the tether is broken. It is soulless.”

  “No. It'll come back.” A tear streaked down Niala's cheek.

  “Once a soul is untethered, there are only three paths. Incarnation, Lichdom, or a return to the cycle. He has done neither of the first two.” Anaakendi said softly.

  Niala snapped her gaze upon the old woman, startling her from the determined ferocity she beheld within her eyes, even as tears traced down from them.

  “Then I'll go and bring it back.” She declared.

  She plunged a hand into her satchel, gripping the last of her mana potion.

  Without pause, she removed its cork and drank it whole, throwing the empty bottle away.

  She felt mana return to her, but her pathways, overtaxed, began rupturing, unable to contain the flood. Pain exploded all along her body, but she bit down on it.

  She clasped her hands together and began weaving. A tale of communion, of binding, of guidance.

  But she also told another story, one of release, exploration, and seeking.

  Violet flames escaped from the gaps in her hands. The pain pulled at her consciousness, her vision tunnelling. Yet she endured and put the final touch on her twin stories.

  Summoning energy from beyond her limit, she parted her hands, placing one hand on David, the other on herself, and unleashed her tales.

  Her eyelids fluttered as she was flung away, while her body slumped on top of her beloved.

  And then she was gone.

  She came to her senses.

  Everything was distorted, like a reflection from a rippling lake. Ghosts and scraps of ethereal cloth lazily floated within a forest of aquamarine lights.

  She spun around and saw a bright light close to her, and another one whose colour was wrong.

  She looked down and saw the outline of a light, its insides missing.

  On top of it was another outline, this one faintly glowing, with a tiny string tied to the emptiness within.

  She followed the string with her senses and saw that it was a part of her.

  Focusing on the empty light, she pushed her senses, sharper, more intense.

  More.

  More.

  Until she saw it, a faint glimmer in the air, like dust caught in the light.

  Looking up, she saw the dust trailing into the distance.

  She followed after it.

  Some time passed until she understood what was bothering her.

  There was no sound. Or any light, or temperature, or anything. She wasn't seeing anything, she was simply... perceiving.

  There wasn't even the sense of movement. No muscles that pulled, no skin that folded. No lungs that drew breath.

  She wasn't even sure who she was. Her thoughts were slippery, like trying to hold a fish with bare hands. They came and went, forgotten as soon as they wiggled free of her grasp.

  Except for one fish that had been nailed in place, one permanent thought that outlived everything else.

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  Find whatever left this trail of dust, and bring it back.

  She moved? Floated? Losing her way a few times, and yet always, a glint would shine and bring her back to the right path.

  She could sense other lights, most of them small, a few large ones, that travelled toward the same destination as her, their path slowly converging.

  For an instant, she felt as if a pair of eyes stared in her direction, but they were gone just as quickly, and never manifested again.

  She kept going.

  The lights accompanying her travel had multiplied, numbering in the hundreds now, all still converging.

  And then, she sensed it. An end, or maybe a beginning. Something different, up ahead, and all around her, the lights began moving faster toward it, as if dragged along the current of a quickening river.

  She could feel the pull, but found she could resist it, even as the invisible force held her within its comforting arms, lulling her to blissful sleep.

  But she couldn't. Surrendering to the lullaby meant failing her task. That was not acceptable.

  The lights around her raced ahead, as more took their places. Soon, she was a stubborn rock within a stream of dashing lights.

  And then she saw it, saw where the current was heading.

  It was a hole, massive, plunging forward, and on the other end, there were massive concentric golden loops, spinning in all directions like a crazed gyroscope. The loops ground against each other, acting like a millstone for the unending flood of lights flinging themselves into its maw, crushed into a glowing liquid that dripped down into a vast ocean beneath.

  The dust trail kept going forward, toward oblivion. Unease gripped her. Was she too late?

  No! There, at the edge of the hole, there was one light that floated, unmoving, as if observing the grim spectacle in front of it, waiting...

  She approached that light. It felt familiar, warm, desirable. The dust led up to it and stopped.

  This was her target, but it didn't react to her. How did she bring it back? She tried reaching out, but realized she had no hands, nor did she have a voice to shout with.

  So she did the only thing she could. She touched it with her own body.

  As soon as their boundaries touched, like soap bubbles, they began merging, almost too quick to realize what was happening.

  And then they were gone.

  Niala grunted and sat up, holding her aching head.

  She was on the floor of her living room, except it was also her bedroom and her kitchen, with all the furniture mixed in.

  What was she doing? She was...

  Her eyes went wide. “David!”

  She swivelled her head around, finding him passed out next to her. With a relieved sigh, she rolled and crawled over to him, climbing on top of his chest.

  His heaving chest. She could hear the blessed sound of his breathing.

  She remained there, gazing upon his features, until he stirred, groaning, and explored the thing that was pressing down on him with a hand, finding a body, and opening one eye to investigate.

  He was met with Niala's loving smile, which he returned instinctively.

  At this point, just looking at her made his mouth curl up, even if he didn't want to.

  His voice was raspy. “Hey.”

  “Hi,” she replied.

  He moved his head around, observing his surroundings, before returning his attention to her. “Where are we?”

  “Something like home.” She guessed.

  “Hmm. It feels like home... especially with you here. What happened?”

  She blinked, the question stirring her memory, as her smile faded. “I... I think you died.”

  “Oh.” He said, round-eyed. He poked himself with his other hand. “I don't feel dead.”

  “What's the last thing you remember?”

  He thought for a second. “A really pretty catkin running toward me.”

  “And after that?”

  His face scrunched up. “I'm not sure. It's not really a memory, more of a... thought. I was thinking I had to stop. That I shouldn't take another step, because it led away from... something very important. Something I was very scared of losing... What was it...”

  His face loosened as a singular name came to his mind. He stared at her, a radiant smile appearing on his face.

  “I was scared of losing Niala. Of losing you.”

  His smile infected her as she touched the tip of his nose. “Good answer. I'm totally worth keeping around.”

  “You are.” He agreed.

  Their gazes locked. Silence and time passed.

  He spoke. “What happens now?”

  “I guess... we go home? To our real home.”

  “How?”

  “Let's get up first, and then we'll find the door, and then we'll go, together, one step at a time.” She offered.

  He nodded, and she rolled off of him. They helped each other up.

  The only door was where their bedroom's would have been. They approached it, looked at each other, their hands finding each other's, interlacing tightly.

  They weren't going to lose each other.

  She opened the door into a land of aquamarine and saw a thin line leading away from this place.

  Leading back home.

  They followed it.

  They returned to where the string was tied to.

  In front of them, two empty outlines, each waiting for a light to come back.

  They tried parting, trying to fill the space meant for them.

  But they couldn't separate. There was something between them, a sort of tether.

  They sensed at each other, and thought of a smile on each other's face.

  Their vessels were so close to each other anyway. They could just slip into them at the same time.

  Jordo startled, his eye flaring bright. His sensors had picked up a pulse. He bent his head down toward his two masters.

  And saw them draw breath, at the same time.

  “They are back.” He said.

  “What?!” Leandro exclaimed, spinning toward the golem.

  Anaakendi reformed her body near the two lovers, peering at them, before her eyes went wide. “Impossible...”

  Jordo stepped forward, bent down, and rested Niala on top of David, picking both of them up as if they were newborn infants.

  The golem turned toward their home and began marching.

  Leandro and Anaakendi shared a stunned look before darting after the departing majordomo.

  It was two days before they regained consciousness, tucked in one of their portable shacks' beds.

  Leandro welcomed them back, his tone hiding the tiniest of tremors.

  Stiff and groggy, they ate a bit and promptly passed out once more.

  The next morning found them in much better health, being able to get up and walk about. David changed out of his destroyed clothes, and they took the day to rest properly. They talked about the encounter and the ensuing fight, placated Leandro's questions about Niala's potions, and did their best to put the events behind them.

  There was, however, something that felt different.

  Deep within him, David could feel Niala's presence, as if a sixth sense was letting him know where she was, and a general sense of what she was doing.

  The way they kept looking at each other at the exact same time, how they smiled in sync, told him that she was feeling the same thing.

  They were bound to each other.

  And they were more than fine with this.

  Because they were together.