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"Wonderful view, isn't it?" Haley beamed, gazing at the verdant expanse of plains from the balcony. "We should totally go into the city and look for quests. I bet they give amazing rewards here – this place is practically made of money."

Vaarsuvius was cleaning his circlet, using gold polish borrowed from (who else?) Haley. "I hear they have an impressive library."

Haley had resumed counting her gold on the floor. "You know, you should buy some new clothes and up your Charisma a little. Goodness knows it wouldn't kill you to wear something other than red once in a while."

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How had this happened?

It had started with a noncommittal shrug at Haley's suggestion, and the next thing she knew, she was dragging him through the shops of the city.

Her friend was rambling on about sartorial decisions. "I mean, like, if you want to keep up the whole androgynous act – but I really think it's starting to get old, y'know? – we'd have to get you robes or breeches or something. I was thinking you could drop the ambiguous gender for a while. It's really limiting your fashion choices and –"

"Haley," Vaarsuvius snapped. "I do not require new robes."

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"I certainly do not appreciate looking like a more intelligent version of Elan, especially at my own expense." Vaarsuvius was annoyed. He felt silly – and very uncomfortable – in these human clothes. "And these trousers are too tight. It would be too easy for the rest of the party to satisfy their curiosity about my gender."

"Oh, come on! You look fabulous." Haley gave Vaarsuvius the once-over. "Skinny jeans are the rage now. Isn't that right?"

The sales assistant agreed enthusiastically with everything Haley said. She was going to get a very healthy commission out of this if the sale proceeded.

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The cries of the Azurean watchmen still lingered in Vaarsuvius' mind, haunting his dreams, taunting her without end.

—Please! Save us!

With a gasp, Vaarsuvius awoke trembling from yet another nightmare.

No. I must not waste time on such meaningless revision of memories.

He closed her eyes again, taking deep, calming breaths like his master had taught her so many years ago. But even then he could not find respite from the endless doubts that came like waves breaking on the shore. You acted unwisely. No, his actions had not been foolish. I did what I had to. For the greater good. For my friends.

Friends. Such a long forgotten word. Where were they now, she wondered. Alive? He stifled a soft sob even as more misgivings came hurtling at her. How will I save them now? The answers came swiftly, as did the rain. Drop by drop, stabbing into the Elf's heart.

—You cannot. You are nothing, powerless.

Stop this madness! The Elf cried out. I am not nothing. I am Vaarsuvius.

Vaarsuvius the proud, Vaarsuvius the mighty, Vaarsuvius the infallible. No one would have recognized the decrepit figure hunched on the ground, silent tears streaming down his face.

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The deed was done. I tasted victory.

I tasted failure as well, complete and utter failure as a parent.

I looked at my children again, saw them lying on the ground with their broken little legs. For a moment I felt a wave of nausea, then guilt wash over me. They were only twenty-six. I had heard nary a cry nor whimper from either of them. My brave children did not deserve to bear witness to the atrocities I had committed.

I had to call off the splice immediately, and then I –

Can't leave it at that now, can we?

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"Suvie..."

Silence stretched out between the elves.

"...you're back at last."

Vaarsuvius nodded numbly, unsure of what to do next. He had so many things to tell Inkyrius. So many apologies. So many wrongs to right.

The mage gradually became aware of Inkyrius saying something. She forced herself to look up.

"Why did you go, Suvie?"
"I - I didn't mean to -"
"Six years..."

There was a distant look on Inkyrius' face, as though the elf was in great sorrow. Vaarsuvius reached for his mate's hand and squeezed it tightly. The sadness slowly vanished from the baker's face, replaced by a small smile.

That smile. The reason she had fallen in love in the first place.

He found himself unable to speak.

"But you're back now," the other elf whispered, drawing Vaarsuvius into a tight embrace. "You'll never leave again, right?"

She could not reply. The breath had been forced out of her lungs. Next came a dull pain between the shoulder-blades, and then the sensation of warm blood trickling down his back. How ironic. Her black robes had turned red once more.

"It's all right, Suvie."

Arms still around the mage, Inkyrius sighed contentedly.

"You'll never leave again."

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A few candles wink at me from beyond the door as I step past the threshold. The aroma of sandalwood lingers within Aarindarius' study. Trying to be as surreptitious as possible, I take several deep breaths. No matter how much I may feign otherwise, something deep inside me still knows that it feels wonderful to be back here.

In part, at least. Emotions are such troublesome things. With each breath I take happy memories flood my mind, only to be drained away by pain and sorrow in the next.

"You don't have to pretend you're not thrilled to be back, Vaarsuvius," my master – no, my former master observes wryly, leaning against the door frame. "I can read you like a book."

I stay silent. He can read me like a book, he says? Then he would have thrown me out of the tower a long time ago.

I loved him once, when I was young. Looking at him now, hearing his voice again, I feel a spark of the old flame stir within me. Then I remember what he did to me, and the fire turns ashen-cold once more.

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Stretching out luxuriantly on the bed, Vaarsuvius closes her eyes and takes a short break from reading. Elan's father plainly has bad things planned for them in time to come, but for now, just enjoying the library and guest suite that comes with the title of 'diplomat' is good enough for him.

Her mind drifts, as it invariably does, to the Order's ridiculously slow progress. He hadn't banked on this when she first agreed to accompany Haley on her adventures many years ago. Every time they seem to make some headway, they encounter another stumbling block that slows them to a standstill for weeks. It's easy to get annoyed at the Order's general idiocy and inefficiency, and there are days when Vaarsuvius just wants to call it quits and return to his little cottage in Ivyleaf, studying to his heart's content.

…Ivyleaf. Her heart beats uncomfortably fast when he thinks about it a second time. It's still too close, the memories too raw. Best to return to the present. She forces his eyes open and sees Haley in the doorway, already kitted out in slave-freeing gear.

"Sorry, did I wake you? Anyway, d'you wanna– "

Then comes a sudden rush of love for his friend, and gratitude for said friend's impeccable timing. He sits up, and simply smiles at her in silence. Haley's not very used to this, apparently, and raises an eyebrow. " – uh, go rescue some – "

Vaarsuvius chuckles inwardly at her discomfort. "Lead the way, Miss Starshine."

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“Dear Inkyrius,” the letter began innocuously enough. As Kyrie read further their throat started getting dry. Several times they put the paper down, closed their eyes, and just imagined if Suvie were there now, the violet hair, those thin wrists, these things they were writing about doing with magic in the cursive script on the page - ah, gods, why had they fallen in love with an adventurer instead of the nice half-elf who worked at the baking supply store half an hour away? A small voice in the back of their mind protested that this didn’t sound like the Suvie they knew, but another equally fervent voice replied optimistically that perhaps adventuring had shown the elf...new things.