Pain overtook Jahora’s senses as Aria faded from view. Every inch of her felt as if it was aflame, and her body’s response was to scream with every bit of its strength. Her mind followed, the frustration that overflowed from its depth only magnifying the despair that echoed through the field. Her chest felt as if it was being stabbed over and over, like Erik was still there driving his dagger not only to her heart, but her very soul as well. He might as well have been.

She was gone.

Aria was gone.

Her voice faded as the scream continued, a soundless screech escaping from her twisted expression as she no longer had any air in her lungs to give. Her instinct was to breathe, but it was one that could not be followed as the fire across her skin continued to blaze. What might have only been seconds felt like an eternity, and as darkness started to encroach upon her vision she could only believe that the pain would continue to carry on this way.

Her mind told her that she deserved it.

A muffled voice pushed through the dulled faculties of her hearing, and soon she saw Helbram looking down at her. His helmet’s visor was raised, and she could see the clear panic in his eyes as he looked her up and down. Leaf and Elly soon followed, sharing in the fear that their companion could not hide.

“The potion wasn’t enough,” Helbram said, the despair in his voice somehow more pronounced even though it sounded like it was spoken underwater, “We need to take her to Ren.”

The other’s nodded, and in that moment panic surged through Jahora’s body. The girl’s smile flared in her mind, one meant for comfort.

One fueled by anguish.

Her hand shook as she raised it, but her fingers grasped Helbram’s arm with a grip as hard as iron. Her friend looked at her as she did so, meeting the desperation in Jahora’s eyes as a brief moment of lucidity took over her.

“Ar…ia,” she forced from her lips.

She fell to the ground the moment that the word left her, darkness reducing her vision to a small tunnel that only allowed her to see the faces of her companions. Helbram looked to Leaf, and when the archer’s eyes met his, they shared a brief nod before he disappeared from view. Elly moved to follow after him, but Helbram grabbed her arm.

“I need you to find the Black Cloaks,” Helbram told her, “tell them to meet us at The Wandering Fowl.”

“We can’t just send him-”

“Elly, please.”

The Weaver paused, then grabbed Helbram’s hand, “Alright.”

Green Aether enveloped her as she disappeared from Jahora’s sight.

Her vision narrowed again, leaving just enough for her to see the tremble in Helbram’s lip as he lifted her from the ground. The pain that coursed through her washed away any sensation of her companion’s touch, and though they started to move, it was as if she was floating in place..

“Not again,” Helbram said, “please, not again.”

Her body shook as he ran, and she could only see her friend clenching his jaw as he looked ahead. Before her vision went black, she could see Helbram’s panicked eyes looking down at her.

“Hold on Jahora, just hold on.”

---

Aria stared at the ground as she walked, the leaves of the forest floor a repeating pattern that barely registered to her eyes as night fell over them. They could have been walking for hours, minutes, or even days and she would not have known the difference, for the only thing that she could think about was the sights she saw before walking amongst the trees.

The cold look to Erik’s eyes as he loomed over Leaf and Elly, traces of the kindness she’d grown so used to gone as he was ready to take their lives.

The rage that Cora held as she battered Helbram to the ground, the spite in her voice drowning out the once gentle tone it used to hold.

The pained… desperate look in Jahora’s eyes as she clutched to Aria so tightly, so concerned for her safety even as the blood poured from her chest.

Shel could still hear an echo of the woman’s scream, of the pain in her voice that still clawed at Aria’s back. Every time Aria tried to push it away her senses grew duller.

The chill on her skin grew more pronounced.

“Just you wait,” Cora said, “when you meet the others you’ll understand why we had to do what we did,” her voice had returned to its calm tone from before, but Aria could now feel the claws that hid behind it.

A lie… was it all a lie?

Aria’s hand was held by Erik, and though she could feel that he held her with the same tenderness he always had, she could only think about the dagger it held just a short while ago. Of how it drove the blade into Jahora’s chest.

Did they care? Had they ever cared?

Still, she could not let go of Erik’s hand. Faint images of the monsters they were before flashed through her mind whenever she had the impulse to do so, staying her grip. More than that, however, was the acceptance that the moment she let go was the moment she would stop moving. She could not allow that, she had to keep going.

To keep them safe.

It was what she told herself, but with each step her feet grew heavier, with each breath her senses grew duller, and with each passing memory she grew colder. Yet still she would think of them.

Of Leaf as he taught her how to brush Bessie.

Of Elly as she gave her the name she so treasured.

Of Helbram, and the promise she made to him under the moons.

Of Jahora, and the warmth of her touch, her smile, her voice as she spoke the words she didn’t know she needed to hear.

Thank you Aria, thank you for being alive.

Her vision blurred, and she let go of Erik’s hand.

“Anastasia? Wha-” Cora asked.

“Seria,” Erik cut in, “tha-”

“That’s not my name,” Aria said in a trembled voice.

Though all else was dulled, the pain in her chest burned hotter with each passing moment. No matter how hard she tried to hold them back, her tears kept flowing. She wanted them to stop, for the pain to go away. The girl wanted to be brave, wanted to face whatever it was that awaited her. She wanted to keep the people she cared about safe.

But she wasn’t strong enough.

Her tears didn’t stop even as she fell into The Cold’s embrace.

---

Leaf was silent as he glided across the forest floor. His eyes remained fixed to his feet, ensuring that each step would place itself on a soft part of dirt, dampening the sound that his footfalls made. At the same time, Ether was suffused across his skin, granting him an increased awareness about his environment. Without even looking, he was able to tell when a branch was going to brush up against him, when a clump of snow would fall from the leaves, allowing him to twist and step to the side to avoid making as much noise as possible.

The feeling, however, made the pain in his shoulder all the more pronounced. A dull ache throbbed from the wound as Ether flowed through it, healing it enough to stop the bleeding, but the pain felt as intense as before. He ignored it as best he could and focused instead on remaining as silent as possible. It was not so severe that he could not deal with it, but he knew the memory it brought would break his concentration.

A memory of Jahora laying on the ground, blood pouring from her chest.

Was she ok?

Was she alive?

He stopped and shook his head, taking in a deep breath as he reigned in the hollowness that gnawed at his heart. He was given a task, and dwelling on anything other than that would only hinder him. His eyes scanned the darkened forest, noting a few broken branches that were at his height. It was possible that it was due to animals, but the breaks were consistent with the trail he had followed for the better part of a day. Erik and Cora were moving quickly, but their pace could only go so fast with the presence of Aria.

If they were treating her gently, that is.

Leaf clenched his jaw and continued forward, making an effort to not disturb any of the forest around him. He did not know how enhanced the senses of Shades were, and despite every fiber of his being telling him to rush forward, he held himself back. He could not risk being spotted by the two, for his sake and Aria’s. To that end he fell back on the teachings of his father. The man was small and stocky, but could shift through the trees like no other even if he wasn’t an Awoken, and Leaf did his best to mimic the man’s movements, using his own power to assist him.

Tracking takes patience and consistency. Running in like a bloody bull will only get your arse mauled by a scared animal.

Leaf snorted and knelt down as he pulled out his dagger. He scraped the tip of the blade against the lowest part of a tree’s trunk, carving the shape of a circle with a triangle sitting on top of it, pointing towards his intended path. It was a small carving, one that most wouldn’t notice were they not looking for it, but he knew that the others would know what to search for. They had developed this system together, after all, and would know how to follow it.

He sheathed his dagger and continued to track Erik and Cora, walking for another few hours and leaving the markings behind him. The pain of his wound gradually lessened as Ether accelerated its healing, but he could feel the energy was growing thin from continued use. The pulse of his Core was faint now, but he pulled from it just the same. He could not afford to stop, not now, not ever.

Then the Cold struck him.

He’d managed to ignore most of Winter’s bite with the assistance of Ether, but even with its boon this new wave of cold instantly turned his skin to gooseflesh. It swept over him like a wave, the force pushing him back a few feet as he tried to right himself. Shivers trailed up from his fingers and it took him a minute to realize that his teeth were chattering. He drew his bow out of instinct and ducked behind a tree after the initial blast was over.

Had they found him?

Taking in a deep breath, he calmed the trembling in his jaw and pushed the chill over him to the furthest reaches of his mind. It still nipped at him, evidenced by his still shaking hands as he pulled an arrow from his quiver, but he managed to maintain enough focus to search the area around him. Even if the power that Erik and Cora control was not visible, that did not leave it immune to leaving some disturbance around it.

At least, he hoped it didn’t.

When he could see, or hear, no sign of movement, Leaf let his arms fall and let out a small sigh. The fog it produced was almost pure white, and as his senses relaxed he realized there was only one person that could produce this effect.

Aria.

It was similar to the intense chill that settled around her shack, but somehow to an even more severe degree. The fact that he was feeling it told him that he was close, but the sheer bite of the cold also told him that the chill could be spread over a much larger area than it had the shack. Regardless, the fact that it was here meant only one thing.

Aria was in danger.

…p….me.

The voice brought a twitch to his ears, yet it was not a sound carried by the winds. No, this was internal, a cry from the soul. Leaf moved from his cover and leaned in towards the cold.

Help me…

He moved subconsciously, his body carrying him multiple strides before his mind could catch up. When it did, Leaf stopped himself, though he could feel instinct fighting him all the while. Every part of him, even his mind, told him that he needed to keep moving, to help Aria no matter what, but a small sliver held him in place.

He would go to her, but then what?

The Seal was most likely broken, and if her power could carry this far, what help would he be in that moment?

He would have to face not only Erik, who’d bested him with ease, but also Cora, who was just as strong. What hope did he have against them?

Still he twitched forward, instinct telling him that he needed to ignore such thoughts.

Aria was in danger, and he had to help.

He stepped back. Yes, she needed help, needed him, but what could he even do?

A creak echoed through the forest, and it took him a minute to realize that it had come from his bow, from the way that his hand gripped it, like it was trying to strangle the very life out of it. He had to act, but if he did and - in the most likely outcome - was killed, the others wouldn’t be able to follow him to Aria. In addition to this, Erik and Cora would try to cover their tracks even more, and would never be found.

If he went on his own, she would be lost.

He had to wait, had to be patient.

Leaf fell to his knees and dropped his bow at his side. He raised a fist to strike the ground but stopped himself from even doing that, for he couldn’t compromise his position even further. The cold around him was suffocating, but though it swirled around him it did not grow distant. Whatever it was that was happening was keeping Aria in place.

At least, he prayed that is what it meant.

He picked up his bow and moved behind a tree, wrapping his cloak around him as trickled through the canopy above. His Ether was thin, but he could feel it grow hot with hate.

Hate for the pain that Aria was in.

Hate for Erik and Cora, for their betrayal.

But more than any of that was the hate he had for himself. The one who could hear the cries of a lost girl’s soul.

But could do nothing about it.

---

Helbram lay face down in the void, the figures of Cora and Erik looming over him.

“You know this to be impossible,” Erik said, but in Helbram’s own voice.

The warrior pushed himself to his knees. The clothes under his armor were damp with sweat, and every inch of his body ached from the blows that had struck him for may have been an eternity.

Scratches compared to the knife that stabbed his heart.

He stood up and readied his sword and shield, their warped and shattered state shifting back to their unbroken forms, “Again.”

“Erik” pressed his lips thin, and without warning a blow struck Helbram at the side of his head. He tried to maintain his footing, but his legs gave out and he collapsed to the ground again. “Erik” walked over to him, the image of Cora disappearing as his own form shifted into one resembling Helbram, though this one was without his armor, instead choosing to wear a simple white shirt and dark brown pants as he took a seat in a chair that materialized with a snap of his fingers. Though The Figure was so clearly a part of himself, not a shred of pain or turmoil rested on his features.

“There is no point in trying to train against something that is both random and unseen,” The Figure said, “And you didn’t even fight Erik long enough to know the true breadth of his capabilities,” he crossed his arms, "It’s useless to try.”

Helbram grit his teeth and stood up again, but as he raised his arms his other self snapped his fingers again. A chair jut from the darkness and clipped the back of Helbram’s knees, forcing him to fall into the seat, which slid across the void until he was right in front of The Figure.

“You couldn’t even see that coming.”

“Shut up.”

“Also impossible, so long as that other voice inside you keeps crying about how powerless you are.”

Helbram closed his eyes and sat back, “Is it lying?”

The Figure rolled his eyes, “Only if you let it keep yammering on,” he leaned forward in his chair, “having me knock you senseless means nothing if you’re just going to keep beating yourself up from the inside. Did you not call to me in order to build yourself up?”

“If I recall, you first came to me in my self loathing,” Helbram muttered.

“That I did, and if I remember correctly neither one of us was having a particularly good time of it,” he scoffed, “Hells we didn’t even have a conversation until the end of that little excursion.”

“How I wish things were how they were before.”

The Figure shrugged, “The fault is all yours. I am merely a reflection of you, after all,” he pushed Helbram’s head up, peering at his eyes through his visor. It was the first time The Figure had gotten so close, and the first time that Helbram noticed his other self had green eyes instead of blue.

“Self loathing will not save her,” he said.

Helbram’s jaw twinged as his teeth clenched, but he let it fall slack as he sighed, “You are right. What should I do?”

“Trust in what you have already set in motion,” The Figure said, “Trust in your companions, and for once, trust in yourself. It doesn’t matter if you think you aren’t strong enough.”

“I have to be.”

The Figure gave a firm nod, “Exactly, and the most prudent thing for you to do is to rest.”

Helbram returned a nod of his own, but as he stood up he remembered one last thing that gave him caution.

When he’d told the Black Cloaks what happened, it was brief. Ren had exhausted himself from healing Jahora from the brink of death, and needed to retire to rest. Helbram had relayed most of what had happened, what their plans were, but the entire time he could not help but notice the look on Leon’s face. It was dark, one that did not belong to a man that was ready to save, but one that had set himself to do his duty.

No matter what that entailed.

“There is one last opponent I must test myself against,” Helbram looked over to the Figure, “And I’m sure you know who that is.”

His other self gave him a grim look before standing up, and shifted into the form of Leon, his sword at the ready.

“You will need to bring you all against him,’ The Figure said, “Ready?”

Helbram held up his weapons, “Ready.”

Night had fallen by the time he emerged from the dream, wincing at the twinge in his neck as he rose from the tavern table. The Wandering Fowl enshrouded by darkness, with only the faintest hints of moonlight shining in from the thick clouds above. Helbram could see a slow, but steady snowfall outside the window. An idyllic scene, one that could not be further from the turmoil that raged within him. Within all of them. He considered letting himself get lost within the sight, to forget about everything for just a moment, but pulled himself away before temptation turned to action and made his way upstairs.

His body ached, but more from the echoes of pain rather than the direct blows that he’d suffered in the dream. Though they told him it was not necessary, Ren had also healed his and Elly’s injuries, and as Helbram passed by the Cleric’s room he offered him a small prayer of thanks. As he did, his attention was drawn to the sound of a door opening.

Elly emerged from her and Jahora’s room. The Weaver was told to get some rest while Ren recovered, but it was clear from her worn expression that she was unable to do so. Her gaze was directed to the floor, and she jumped slightly when Helbram put a hand on her shoulder.

“How is she?” he asked.

“Still asleep, but better,” Elly let out a small laugh, “I know the healing magics of Cleric’s to be potent, but some tales I’d thought to be fiction,” she grabbed Helbram’s hand and squeezed, “how glad am I to be wrong,” a tremble broke her voice.

Helbram wrapped an arm around Elly and brought her close. She rested her head against his chest. Her breathing was heavy, and the shake to her shoulders only worsened in his hold.

“I could only watch,” she whispered, “No spell, no words even came to mind as they took her away,” he could feel his shirt grow wet, “With all the dangers we’ve faced, I thought I’d be able to think of something, anything, but all I could think of was how hopeless it all was. All that time, Aria was thinking of us, thinking of protecting us.”

Elly looked up at him, the streaks of her tears still glistening in the darkness, “We have to save her, Helbram.”

Helbram held her close and pressed his forehead against hers, “We will, I swear it.”

Elly wrapped her hands around him and gave him a firm hug before they let go of each other.

“I think I need to take a walk,” she said as she wiped her eyes, “clear my head when I still have the chance.”

“A good idea,” Helbram said with a smile, “I’ll keep watch over Jahora in the meantime.”

She flashed him a thankful smile as she walked towards the stairs. He watched her until she was out of sight before turning to Jahora’s door. As he reached for the handle, he paused. He knew that she was alright, but a paranoia at the back of his mind kept telling him to expect the worst. He shook his head and gripped the handle.

He couldn’t afford to be distracted by such thoughts.

---

Jahora woke to the sound of a door opening. Her vision started to clear as the last of the aged wood’s creaking ceased, allowing her to see Helbram in front of the door. His eyes met hers, but he looked away as he closed the door behind him.

“The potion stopped the wound from taking you, but only for so long,” he said as he crossed the room, still unable to meet her eyes, “Ren was able to handle the rest, but he needs some time to recover,” he approached the nightstand near Elly’s bed and picked up the pitcher that rested on top of it. He was silent as he poured water into one of the cups on the stand, and as he set down the pitcher he could only look outside.

Jahora pushed herself up, wincing at the soreness in her chest. She ignored the pain and forced herself out of bed, only for her legs to buckle from under her. Helbram crossed the room and caught her before she fell, but she pushed him away.

“Where’s Aria?” she asked.

She already knew the answer.

“Jahora I-”

“Where is she?!” she whipped her head at him, her eyes flaring as the fury in her chest exploded.

Helbram knelt down and met her gaze, “Taken, Jahora. Leaf went after them and-”

“Why aren’t you with him?!” she punched Helbram in the chest, “Why did you let her get taken?! You stupid bastard!”

Jahora struck him again as tears poured down her face. He did nothing to stop her as she kept striking him.

She knew it was unfair.

Knew that he’d been given an impossible choice, that he tried everything he could to save both her and Aria, but still she kept punching. For if she stopped, her heart would burst. Any words that she wanted to say only collapsed into screams as her hands hammered against her companion’s chest, and she could feel herself grow weaker with each blow. Her strength faded, and she fell forward. Helbram caught her against his shoulder, and she clutched against him as she cried with all that she had.

“I failed her, Helbram.”

Helbram’s arms wrapped around her and he squeezed her close. He said nothing as she continued to cry, to scream at a pain in her chest that refused to go away even as her eyes grew dry.

Her body shook with every breath, and if Helbram had not held her then she knew she would collapse then and there. She clung to him, burying her face into his shoulder.

“I’m sorry,” she whimpered.

Helbram ran a hand through her hair, “It is fine, Jahora. I understand. We are here for you.”

She nuzzled against him further, “And yet all I can do is scream at you. I’m awful.”

Her friend grabbed her shoulders and looked her in the eyes. There was pain in his, but more than that was determination.

“More than anyone, you do not deserve such words,” he said, “Self loathing will not help us, not now. I know you’ve just woken up, but I need you to stand tall.”

Jahora wiped her eyes and planted her feet. She knew what Helbram was about to say, and spoke the words first.

“We’re going to save her.”

His hand squeezed her shoulder, “With all of our might.”

---

Author's note: Emotions ran high in this chapter and I swapped a lot of character perspectives here, but I wanted to write this to really get into the headspace of the party. There hasn't been a moment in the story so far where they failed quite so badly, and I think taking a moment to see how this is reflecting on them is important especially as things come to a head in the coming chapters.

Let me know how it is though! Was it too melodramatic or out of character? Or should I have spent some more time on what they were feeling?

Till next time people, have yourselves a wonderful week!