The flame was turning to whispers. The power that surged through Kenan just moments ago swiftly followed the same fate. Pain thrummed in his body, each surge of agony brought him a step closer to unconsciousness. Yet the invisible grasp he had around his mind and body was firm and unmoving. He wasn’t quite done. Not yet.

But still, as he walked he took multiple stumbles and falls. No matter how much he willed it to continue, there was a point and time where a body could no longer function. So he pulled from a power beyond his own will, prayer. Not to any of the gods, or anything that could properly be named. He simply took from the hope that he could move just a bit longer.

Eventually, he found himself in a pile of rubble. Vaguely aware of the possibility that awaits for him underneath. Slowly he took one broken stone and tossed it away. Trying and hoping. Each piece of broken brick or wood he threw, the deeper his heart burrowed into his stomach. Anger and sorrow toppled each other with every passing moment.

He revealed an item. A somewhat circular shape, curved in the body. Wooden, but extremely broken and splintered. Snapped strings, and a broken neck. “No.” Noctis said. He threw the item aside. ”I can’t…”

“Sorry about that.” A voice said. Kenan’s head whipped to see a very bloody, covered in dust, Jorun. Hands covered his right side and other wounds perpetrated the bard all over. “I didn’t mean to, you know, got tail blasted to bahumets nest.” The bard smiled and laughed.

Emotion washed over Noctis. Relief mostly. Other feelings swirled too. For a bit of time, he was still. On his knees, starring. Not quite understanding the notions traveling his body. Something of his, of his territory, has returned.

Kenan stood. He balled his fists. A form of anger roiled its way to the top of his mind, a rage fueled by the inexplicable tenants of brotherly love. After some strides over there, he grabbed Jorun by the collar and pulled him hard. Just to get his attention. “What were you doing?! You could’ve gotten yourself killed!”

Confusion settled on Jorun’s face. “You were about to…”

“This isn’t about me! I - Hernie, man, think on what it would’ve done to her. To know she lost her child on the whims of another. Mine!” Kenan shook the bard.

Jorun’s face turned. His previous arched eyebrows of not understanding quickly turned into an unsettled disposition of his own. The bard grabbed his friend's hands and shoved him off. Under normal circumstances, this wouldn’t be possible. However, with them, it was easily done. “You're my one and only friend! What am I supposed to do?! Let you become wyvern food!”

“Yes! It’s not worth…” Kenan was robbed of the rest of his sentence with a hard slap.

“The promises you make to yourself mean nothing to me! Do you understand that?! The oaths you make on your own are solely yours to keep! Just like mine to you! It doesn’t matter how much trouble you are in, I will be at your side just like you did for me!”

As a knee jerk reaction. Kenan pushed Jorun. Who fell to his butt. The bard retaliated by swiftly getting up, and burrowing his shoulder into Noctis’ stomach. Tackling him. The result was the both of them fumbling down a declining slope of debris. Each gained a multitude of nicks and bruises. Once they came to a stop, they wrestled for control.

“You cannot handle what I do!” Kenan said. Struggling.

“And you can't handle what you do alone!” Jorun strained, under an equal amount of pressure.

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“I have to!”

“Only you think you have to!”

“No…”

“Look where that got you! Almost dead.”

“I had to save…”

“I know! But that doesn't give you a good enough excuse. “ Jorun got on top. Then stood quickly. “Don’t you understand! Just because you are willing to give your life to me! To Mom or Dad. To Geia! To your uncle, or to anyone else! Just because you are willing, doesn't mean we want you to!”

The two stared at each other for a while. Kenan trying his best to register Jorun’s words. While the bard tried his best to quiet the growing tempest in his chest. Jorun held out his hand, Noctis took it.

“Uh oh.” They said simultaneously. Out of mana, energy, and body pushed past the brink. Kenan let go of the hand and fell past consciousness. Jorun, feeling the most agony he had ever felt before, met the same fate.

***

He felt cold. Worse, it was freezing. So unbelievably chilled it was like everything was still. Not moving. Anything and everything was so inexplicably unmoving it was like nothing existed. Simply that, the void.

It was comfortable. Knowing nothing and feeling nothing. He felt at peace and wanted to stay like that. Yet, as the arms of Nonesthic wrapped itself around Kenan, another force pierced itself through the embrace, and into Noctis. It was alien, it was malicious.

The intent was met with a large rousing conscience. Nonesthic was waking, Kenan was waking. It, they, He was angry. Suddenly the force scurried back and disappeared. Afraid of the consequences. Inside of Noctis’ mind, an unfamiliar instinct reared its ugly head. He ripped from the clutches of his power and sped towards the intent.

He hunted with a feeling beyond physical and his mana sense. He was in Nonesthic, his realm. Kenan raged at the thought of someone invading. No, Nonesthic did. Noctis was just simply feeling its anger. Or was he? Questions for a later time.

Kenan saw a closing door standing out in the darkness. A tendril of golden cloth was slipping its way out. Noctis quickly honed in, grabbed it and tore. As the door closed, he heard a yelp. The cloth waved like it had caught wind. Bringing it up to his nose, he caught a scent. Draconic and human. A growl escaped his throat.

The instinct broke away as something bumped his legs. Furry and large. He turned to see Dion. Wagging his tail and tongue out. As if he was running. The dirus looked at his master. “What?” Kenan said. Dion barked, “Did I do something?” The dirus shook his head, and leaped away until he couldn’t be seen. Noctis knew the dirus escaped from the realm. Kenan looked back to where the door was moments ago, then to the golden cloth. He let it go. It disappeared, faded out into nothing. Noctis shrugged. The scent burned into his mind.

***

Kenan woke up with a gasp. The introduction of feeling after blissful nothing was harsh for him. Especially when all the sense in his body was forcefully taken over by pain. The muscles in his body hungered for nutrients and the wounds were shoring up. Both of the forces took out their frustration on Noctis’ nerves.

Sitting up quickly, he saw that Dion was laying at the foot of his bed. He looked at his master with a mixture of relief and anger. The dirus woofed. As if to say “Told you the plan was dumb.” Yet, for some reason. Kenan sensed Dion's vexation wasn’t about the battle with the wyvern.

“Finally, you're awake.” A voice said. Kenan turned to see Jorun. On a bed just like his own. “How do you do this? Like, my entire body hurts. I feel like my insides are going to devour the rest of my body, and just, seriously dude. Everything sucks. I bring my legs up a little bit, and they cramp. I breathe shards of glass and something is punching my gut every three seconds. “

Noctis shrugged. “You can’t feel that when you're sleeping.” He started to lay down and turn away.

“Wait hold on, we're not done talking!”

“Shut up. Little lullaby.”

“What?! How do you know that name? Kenan!” The bard threw a pillow. Kenan caught it without looking and put it under his side. Jorun mumbled something before covering himself with a blanket.