Even disheveled and freshly woken from a deep slumber, she was beautiful. If anything, the little crust of drool at the corner of her lip made her even more endearing - that such a perfect creature could still be as mortal as he in dreams.

He felt a wave of guilt; Alder knew his wound could have at least lasted until after sunrise. It was only his own selfish neediness to see her that roused Solvi at this unspeakable hour, the world still dark around them as even the sky struggled to wake overhead.

The pain in his foreleg seemed so distant now. Just being near her was enough - the sylph's warmth extended well beyond her gentle tone and kindly expression, exuding from her very being like a much-needed salve.

He's dead.

How foreign his own voice sounded, uttering those words.

She asked how long he’d been walking - he couldn't come up with an answer. Time held no meaning since the light had died at last in his grandfather's eyes, eyes so full of hate. Full of spite. Taunting, even to the bitter end; his blood had tasted like ash in Alder's mouth.

It's not - it’s not bad, Solvi, he said, resisting the urge to pull away from her worried gaze. The guilt returned anew, and he became acutely aware of how much he hated needing things, needing others, but he couldn’t deny that in this moment he needed her more desperately than he had anything else in the world. Cypress got a good one in, I guess. Locked his jaws and wouldn't let go. Stubborn bastard.

The sky continued to lighten.

I've always wanted to believe in the gods, Alder said suddenly, his gaze fixated on the pale horizon as all the while a steady trickle of crimson wept from the open wound on his leg. I want to believe a higher power exists, and that there is a divine punishment in the end.

His jaw clenched.

If only for him.