—Bas—

The last bubble left his lips, rising to the surface, only inches above his head. His body blazed with agony, but it was nothing compared to the primal terror of drowning he had experienced as a child.

The world faded into darkness, along with the pain. Suddenly, Bas was elsewhere, and everywhere, he could feel every shattered—there was no other was no other word for it—part of himself. Like the remnants of a dream, he could feel everything, see everything.

He was in the walls, power surging like a heartbeat, ebbing and flowing in constant motion. He was in the air, rushing around the adventurers as they carried a small gnome to the center of...

Strange... he almost recognized them... they felt familiar, but so very far...

It didn't matter.

He was everywhere, yet at the same time he was there, in the crystal that sat buried within the walls that were also him.

Until he wasn't.

The world slammed back into focus in front him, like regret after a round of sacchar. However, unlike the aftermath of the potent drink, his memories were all intact. The most vivid memory hit him hard.

He'd just died.

Bas looked down at his hands, examining the familiar tracery of veins beneath his skin, trying to confirm his existence. He had been dead. He was almost certain of it. He remembered his last moments vividly, he shouldn't be alive, he shouldn't be here.

He was nowhere near the treacherously placid stream. In fact, he was at the Dungeon's border, surrounded by swirling mist, staring out over the valley below. He took a step, and paused. He was forgetting something...

Blue!

The packs were right there. He needed that Dramal root. He had somehow survived one death, but he had no confidence that Blue would be similarly blessed.

Bas took off towards the bag and the lifesaving root within it.

His legs disappeared beneath him. Literally vanished. Slowly, the rest of his body began to dissolve away.

Where are you going, little human? Trying to run?

A soundless Voice echoed within his head, bearing an almost jaunty arrogance, if not for the the faintest undertones of a soul steeped in its own bitterness.

Bas tried to whirl from his position on the floor as the Voice spoke again, forgetting for a moment that his lower body was no longer there.

My, my. You won't even deign answer to your creator? Tsk, tsk. After all I've done for you... after all I've sacrificed. Make no mistake. You are mine. Now and forever.

Thoughts flashed through Bas' head. But all too soon, his body vanished and he was sent back to the abstract world of half-forgotten echoes and sensations. Then, once again, he found himself standing back at the mouth of the Dungeon, staring at the packs.

This time he had no interest in them. A glimmer of hope blossomed in his chest, perhaps the Voice was constrained to the Dungeon. If he was fast enough, he might be able to escape it.

Bas stood idly by, waiting until he thought the Voice might become complacent. Soon, his impatience had reached a breaking point. He lunged forwards in an explosion of motion.

With a feeling of relief he burst out of the Dungeon's mana.

Safe.

He was close to Grimheld's bag, he could almost touch it. But there was no point. He was never going back to the Dungeon and the Voice that resided there. He had just escaped them both.

Bas laughed, despite himself. The Voice laughed with him.

His body disappeared and he was back where he started.

Do you think you can run? I am forced to create you here, but even beyond the bounds of my domain I can destroy you at my leisure. I told you, Bas. You are mine.

The voice laughed again, We're going to be such good friends.

Bas barely heard him. The Voice knew his name!?

...of course it did.

"What do you want?" He stammered out. The thought of the Voice's power made him weak at the knees. He couldn't outrun it.

What a good question. I want to help you, of course. The Voice chuckled darkly.

Bas flinched back, further into the Dungeon's mouth.

The Voice sighed, I see you misunderstand. Why would I want to hurt you? You know so much, traveler from another world. I simply want to... The Voice seemed almost to lick its lips, bargain.

Bas took a step forward, his courage rallying. The Voice wanted something. That was good, it meant that Bas had something the Voice couldn't take by force.

"What is it you want from me?"

I want your mind. I already have your soul, after all. The Voice chuckled. But this is a bargain, so let me present to you my offer. You will help me grow, feed, learn. In return I will give you power. I will even save you from death, should you fall within my domain. If you die outside of my walls... well, we'll see.

Bas' mind was racing. The Voice's walls? The Voice belonged to the Dungeon. The revelation gave him confidence, if only by knowing the identity of the vaguely threatening voice. "You said this was a bargain. Yet, so far, you've been the only one to do the talking. You don't know what I want, and you're giving me no choice."

Ah, so that's what bargaining is. See. You're teaching me new things already, The Voice gave an ironic laugh. It was obvious the Voice was toying with him. It knew full well what a bargain was.

Bas clenched his fists.

Now, now. This is not the time for anger, your friends need you. What is it your friends keep repeating? Blue? What a delightful name.

Bas jerked. He had forgotten about her. He took a step towards the bags, but the Voice spoke again.

Wait.

The word was layered with compulsion, rooting him to the ground, but it was an easy feat to break free from the urge to remain still. The Voice's next words lacked the same feeling of command but stopped him in his tracks anyway.

You say that I do not know what you want? That I give you no choice? Very well, The Voice sounded amused. You may leave freely, to live out the rest of your days, however long they may be. Your life will be yours, and I will not reclaim from you what is rightfully mine. The Voice paused, before continuing in a sly tone, Or... you can help your friends. They are... occupied... and not all of them may survive without you. If you choose to help them... I will consider our bargain struck. You wanted a choice. Have it then, if it is so important to you. Choose. The Voice growled out the last word in Bas' head.

It was a cruel choice to force on someone. But it wasn't one that required a moment's thought or hesitation.

Bas darted to Grimheld's bag, scattering its contents across the grassy slope as he found what he was looking for. The Dramal root and the purplish-green chunk of tourmaline—an Arcane Focus for life mana.

Then, steeling himself, Bas ran back into the Dungeon. The mist brushed against him like an electric feather, sending involuntary shivers rippling across his skin. He clutched the precious objects tightly, one in each fist.

Left. Go left. The Voice said, words laced with command.

Bas felt his feet carry him to the side. "Will you stop that. It's bad enough having you inside my head."

Then don't run headfirst into a trap and listen when I speak.

"There aren't any more traps here. We cleared them all out."

Oh? Is that so? If I remember, you cleared one out particularly well, a truly innovative method that I am certainly hoping will catch on.

"For the love o—"

Shhh. They'll hear you talking to me. Trust me, you don't want that to happen.

"I'll talk whenever I want to." Bas said, but his voice came out hushed, regardless.

Oh, I know why you're so hostile. You don't know who I am... Luneil. Pleased to make your acqua—

"Go fuck yourself." Bas said, his voice a low growl.

Really, stop talking now. You've got company.

Bas glanced up, momentarily taking his eyes off the terrain beneath his feet. He was almost rewarded with a painful stumble and fall, but righted himself just before he plowed face first into the ground. In that brief second's glance upwards, however, he saw Kort jogging towards him and the rest of the party dragging an unconscious Blue out of the Boss room, smoke and flame billowing out from behind them.

"Where've you been, lad? You scared the shit out of us."

"Getting these," Bas held up the items he'd removed from Grimheld's bag.

For a second Kort's eyes gleamed with a strange hope. He snatched both out of Bas' hands and ran towards Blue, calling out behind him, "Sorry lad, there's nae time t' talk. Good work though." Faster than Bas would have thought possible, Kort was next to Grimheld at Blue's side. "C'mon lass, we'll get you up and walking soon."

Bas edged closer, overtaken by morbid curiosity, just as Grimheld spoke softly to Kort, "I don't think she's breathing. Smoke got her. We can't help her now."

An memory hit Bas like a truck, one of when he was resuscitated after drowning. It worked for smoke inhalation, didn't it?

Bas' walk morphed into a run and suddenly he was pushing the dwarves out of the way. He fumbled the first chest compression. And the second.

But by the third, he had found his rhythm.

One, two, three... again and again. Then he brought his mouth to Blue's.

Breathe.

One, two, three... one, two, three... breathe.

Strong hands pulled him away.

"She's dead lad."

Bas struggled, "No, I can save her."

"You can't bring someone back from the dead. When you're gone, there's nae coming back as you were. Even necromancy can nae do that." Kort spat.

It's true. A part of her Lifeforce flowed to me when she died.

"Can't you bring her back?"

Grimheld laid a hand on Bas' shoulder, even as he held him back, "There's no magic that can do that for ya."

Bas' question hadn't been addressed to him, or any of the dwarves.

No. You all saw her die. Unless you want your friends to die in her stead, there is nothing I can do. I can't reveal myself, I've already taken a risk with you.

But Bas' mind was blazing ahead at a million miles an hour. "I can bring her back, I know it. Just trust me."

Kort looked at him, "Are ya sure? This is one of those things in your book, yes?"

Bas nodded. It was a barefaced lie, but Kort would accept it.

Kort sighed, "Let him go Grim." He gestured to the rest of the team, "All of you as well, give him some space."

Once again, Bas knelt over the gnome's body. He didn't know how long she'd been like this, but it didn't matter. He had to try. Hopefully she hadn't been dead too long.

"Please let this work," Bas whispered as he brought his mouth to Blue's. This time he would do things differently.

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Mana exploded out of his mouth, and for a sickening moment he could see, feel and even taste Blue's trachea. He gagged, despite himself, but pushed on. His mana burst into the gnome's lungs, even pushing slightly through her inert tissues, immediately coming into contact with the particles of smoke that had killed her. Bas was momentarily at a loss. He knew how to resuscitate someone, no person who'd ever drowned wouldn't. But this...

And then it came to him. Smoke, just like pollen, was comprised of particles, albeit much smaller. If Bas could clear pollen out of his breathing supply, there was no reason he couldn't clear smoke out of someone else's.

Small puffs of clinging smoke lifted out of Blue's lungs, travelling up her throat. Bas coughed and spat, choking back the urge to vomit. He couldn't stop now. He repeated the procedure, once, twice, three times. And then he was satisfied.

He changed the action of his mana. Instead of forcing things out, he imparted momentum to the air around him, forcing it into Blue, inflating her lungs like fleshy bellows. Blue's chest lifted to the rhythm of his mana and breath.

It felt natural, it was as easy as breathing. Because it was.

But still Blue's heart failed to beat.

What was mana? In the end it was energy. Or he hoped so, anyway.

A small aspect of mana's function was altering kinetic energy. Giving it to an object, taking it away. But what if there was more? Thermal energy, light energy, even electrical energy.

Bas didn't know how to manipulate it to such an extent. But if mana was so vital to life, then it logically followed that all life was able to utilize it on a cellular level. Mana's natural acceleration of healing proved that. What Blue needed was a constant source of mana. Lifeforce.

Breathe.

The ball of electric energy that existed within Bas flickered and began to break apart into streamers of gold and blue. It was an irritating feeling, like an itch that couldn't be scratched.

Breathe.

Mana and Lifeforce spiraled out of him, passing into Blue.

Breathe.

A pulse burst into being beneath his fingertips and Blue took a faltering breath.

With that breath, the drain of energy on Bas magnified tenfold. He couldn't stop it. It didn't matter anyway, the world was peaceful. It was like he was back home, just after his mother had taken a tray of chocolate cookies out of the oven. It was all going to be okay. He took a labored breath, savoring the smell of oranges, so vivid he could feel it on his tongue.

Blue's eyes fluttered open even as Bas' own vision began to darken.

Breathe. But it was just too difficult.

Fascinating. Luneil's voice haunted the edges of his mind like a distant echo.

And all the world was black and electric gold.

—Luneil—

Luneil watched as Bas' aura flickered and faltered, even as Blue's surged outwards from her prone form. His momentary fascination by Bas' actions was overcome by a flash of worry passing through his consciousness. The surge of euphoria from receiving Blue's Lifeforce had turned sour. Bas was dying, his aura was waning, even as Blue's rekindled.

Luneil reprimanded himself, he had been too impulsive. He should have let the dwarves be, but he just didn't know when to stop. Now, a potential asset to his cause was in danger. Even worse, Blue's fears regarding Luneil would, in her mind, be vindicated. If she labelled him a rogue Dungeon and those in authority listened... he would have to leave, fly away somewhere safe and leave all of his work behind.

Desperately, he forced Lifeforce past Blue's weak aura and into Bas. The dwarves rushed forwards as they saw Bas collapse, their auras cancelling out Luneil's efforts, mere seconds after he started.

Cursing himself, Luneil thought back over the events.

***

"Fuck, she should have been waiting with..." Kort trailed off, worry rising to his face. "Where's Bas?"

Luneil felt a flash of surprise. Where had the human gone?

His consciousness homed in on Bas' exact position. The stream was flowing peacefully, marred only by the sight of Bas' final breath bursting against the surface.

Lifeforce flowed into him in absurd quantities. So this was how much energy he could obtain from adventurers. It was immense, breathtaking... bitter. There was no joy or bliss in this, there was no euphoria to drown out what had just happened.

No. This was a waste. All that knowledge. Gone. Bas' tale of steam engines and of railways had captivated him, tantalized him. They were quite literally otherworldly. And now they were sitting at the bottom of a streambed, crushed by a Ropewood trap.

He absorbed the body along with the hatchet, both sunken at the bottom of the shallow stream, there was no point in letting them go to waste. Drinking in Bas' pattern and power, Luneil no longer marveled at the complexity of the information, nor at the sheer volume of Lifeforce he received. It was a dissatisfying death.

With a spiteful feeling growing in his center he turned back to his Boss room.

Kort was cursing by the entrance, seeing no sign of Bas in the first room. Luneil's spite blossomed into rage, unfurling within him like a crimson flower.

Dance.

The Ropewood branches that lined the edges of the room began to writhe, flicking up and slamming down, sending all the adventurers in range flying through the air once again.

Kort turned, words dying on his lips as he saw the chaos that had been unleashed. His body glowed blue and he powered through the thrashing Ropewood like a steel-plated juggernaut. Now that he'd built up momentum he was unstoppable, branches reached out to trip him, but Kort plowed through them, reducing the grasping limbs to splinters. "Get t' the center," he roared, scooping up Blue in one hand and continuing on towards an off-balance Ola. Placing an arm behind her back he shoved her forwards, into the safe grassy area in the middle of the room.

Except it should have been safe. After all, in the turmoil, none of the dwarves had noticed the vivid spots of yellow patterning the grass' stems. Firecoil.

Luneil watched as Kort dumped Blue unceremoniously on the ground. Nearby, Grimheld's mana wrapped around Dirri and Gern. With a mighty rush of wind, the mana cloud pulsed and the three dwarves were sent tumbling through the air where they landed in an unceremonious heap in the middle of the Firecoil meadow.

Luneil felt a resentful surge of satisfaction fill him. Perfect.

Disoriented and harried as they were, it was no surprise they didn't spot the first wisp of flame. Or the second.

The dwarves all cast a worried look towards Blue.

As if waiting for such a signal, the nearby blades of Firecoil lunged forwards, intent on making contact with their prey. They burst into flame, igniting themselves and neighboring stalks of flammable grass.

In seconds, the small field of grass at the center of the room was ablaze, tongues of fire licking at the thrashing Ropewood branches.

Smoke billowed outwards and the adventuring team began to realize their mistake.

Scooping up Blue, Kort once again rushed towards the exit.

But this time, his vision was clouded with smoke and, in his haste, he forgot to use his mana.

With vituperative glee Luneil directed a branch of Ropewood to slam into his stomach, sending Kort staggering backwards and the gnome flying out of his hands, spinning through the air.

Fortuitously, she landed in the center of the room. The Firecoil burned fiercely, but firewood it was not. And so, by the time she landed in a tangle of twitching limbs, there was little left but embers, ash and smoke.

The smoke was what got her in the end. In her unconscious state, she took a breath, then another. A vein pulsed in her neck, faster and faster as her breathing became more and more frantic. Her eyes opened for a second, filled with terror at the sight before her dying gaze. Then, all too quickly, she stilled.

Lifeforce filled Luneil, confirming the gnome's death. But before he could absorb her body, Grimheld's mana blasted outwards, driving away the smoke from the center of the room and impairing Luneil's ability to affect her.

Kort was moving slowly now, partly because of the large dent in his breastplate and partly because Grimheld had made the area more safe.

With a sigh, Luneil ordered the branches to stop moving. It was over. There was no bringing Blue back to li...

Zeph? You said intelligent beings are hard to control. Why is that?

"It's because they can sometimes retain memories from their previous life. A bit like you, in fact. If, for example..." Zeph's form turned jagged, and she enunciated clearly, "Don't you dare, Luneil."

Uh... What do you mean? Can't talk now. Busy.

Zeph growled in frustration. Luneil ignored her, delving into the Lifeforce within his body, seeking out a specific pattern.

He hurriedly created a framework of mana at the entrance of the Dungeon, absentmindedly adding Lifeforce into it until Bas' body coalesced.

Luneil's mind was spinning. He needed a way to control Bas, to convince him that he was utterly dependent on Luneil for his existence.

Luneil's mind went to back to testing the limits of his gaseous mana, remembering how his influence extended five feet beyond it. If he played it right, he could make it seem that he could destroy Bas whenever and wherever he wanted to. Luneil would instill a healthy sense of fear into Bas' very marrow.

But that wasn't enough. Fear was only a good motivator in the short term. What could he offer Bas in return for his compliance?

Hmm. Eternal life?

"What's that?" Zeph had heard him muttering, she sounded alarmed.

Oh, nothing you need to worry about. Luneil chuckled. Eternal life it was. That seemed like a decent motivator, and it would also have the added bonus of frustrating Zeph.

—Bas—

It was dark when Bas opened his eyes, although he could see the campfire flickering through the flap of the tent he was in. The firelight killed his night vision and he found himself shading his eyes with one hand as he looked around. His few possessions, his physics textbook and his borrowed hatchet, lay off by his side, barely visible by their outlines in the shadows of the tent.

Where had the hatchet come from?

Bas reached for it, bringing it closer and turning it over in his hands. He could have sworn that this was sitting at the bottom of the stream in Luneil's Dungeon. He shivered at the memory, then screamed when a previously unnoticed 'something' shifted in a darkened corner of his tent.

"Ah, you left that by the packs. You should nae have done that, you've got t' hold ont' your weapon at all times. Though I do nae blame you, given the situation. You did well, all things considered."

Bas looked at the hatchet one more time. He'd definitely not left it anywhere near where Kort claimed he did. Which meant that Luneil must have been covering for him, or more accurately, himself. With a snort, he tossed it lightly to one side and sat up, turning to face Kort.

"Shit." His body ached in every imaginable place in every unimaginable way. He settled back down with a relieved groan.

Kort chuckled, "That's what you get for trying t' do something without testing it out first."

Bas shot a scathing look at him, but it was hidden in the darkness. Unable to come up with a suitably biting reply in time, his gaze fell to the small object that Kort seemed to be fidgeting with.

Illuminated in golden tones by the flickers of firelight outside, it seemed a jumble of white gears and metal plates.

"What's that?"

"Oh, you mean this?" Kort rested the device in a meaty hand and held it out, but even with the reflected firelight it was still too dark to make it out properly. "Ah, sorry, lad. Let me help with that."

Kort's hand glowed blue with mana, revealing an intricate clockwork mechanism fashioned out of a white metal in the shape of a dragon. Its gears were arranged in an exquisite fashion, each tiny cog forming a perfect tiny scale that overlapped along its body in interlocking ridges. Its wings were tucked along its body, yet they seemed to be made of the same white metal, beaten to an impossibly thin sheet.

"Beautiful, isn't it." Kort whispered, "It's a Cogwork Dragon, created by the Anolin, though these Dragons are nae truly alive like them. They're made for carrying messages t' a recipient. They're expensive, but it's nae possible t' lug a scrying-link out with you when you're adventuring, so we make do with the added cost." Kort covered his hands, letting loose a wracking cough that sounded suspiciously like 'fuckers'.

Bas reached out, but stopped his hand a fraction of an inch before he touched the magnificent device. "May I?"

"Be my guest. Try nae t' touch the wings."

Bas picked it up, feeling the faint tickle of the gears beneath his hands. The Cogwork Dragon was extraordinarily light, like holding a hollow metal butterfly. With each motion of his hands, the gears shifted ever so slightly, giving the impression that he had a handful of fine powder instead of the strange contraption. "What's it made of?"

"White iron. Interesting metal, but useless for weapons and armor." Kort edged his hand forward, "Pass it back now, lad. I need t' send this soon."

Bas handed over the Cogwork Dragon. "Where's it going?"

"Dwarven Council in Ilae." Kort scratched his nose, "I wanted to notify them about the Dungeon right away, but it was more important t' make sure you were alright first."

"Uhh, thanks."

Pinching the Cogwork Dragon between a thumb and forefinger, Kort pressed its tail. The Dragon's tail swung down on a hidden hinge, revealing a small compartment within its body cavity. With untypical delicacy Kort carefully slotted a rolled up piece of parchment in and pushed the tail back up, nodding at the quiet clicking noise.

From his pocket, the dwarf pulled out a series of small white keys, fastened on a metal ring. Taking a moment to select the right one, Kort inserted one in between the Dragon's jaws and rotated it twice.

With an whirring sneeze, the Cogwork Dragon came alive, coughing out the key as it flexed its graceful white neck. Sapphire blue eyes blinked open, fixing Kort with its gaze. Its wings trembled and unfolded, testing the air as its body twisted, tiny claw tipped legs scrabbling for purchase on Kort's thumb.

The Dragon twisted its body out of the dwarf's loose grip, tottering up onto the back of his hand. It threw its head back, flaring its wings and let out a chirping metallic roar. With a final glance in Kort's direction it launched itself into the air aiming towards the tent flap. It banked at the final moment, its extended wings turning almost vertical.

And then it was gone.

Bas lay there, staring at the tent flap, amazed by the uncanny realism of the clockwork creature. Miniaturized as it was, it had the feeling of a real living breathing creature. "How is it able to do that with only clockwork?"

Kort laughed, "Anolin. They're strange creatures. Really reclusive, but they have a knack for anything mechanized." The dwarf leaned closer, voice taking on a conspiratory whisper, "I've heard they don't even have Lifeforce. Just gears, gears and more gears."

The mention of Lifeforce brought back strange memories. "How's Blue?"

Kort wrung his hands, "Alive. The rest you ought t' see for yourself. Uh... I was meaning t' ask you about, uh... what you did." Kort's fidgeting intensified, "Is it possible t' do that for anyone? You know. Stop death. Come back from being stabbed"

Bas paused, thinking hard on both the question and his own situation, "I don't think so. I don't know much about resuscitation apart from the basics, but it doesn't work like that."

Kort nodded, "Do you want t' see Blue? If you're feeling up t' it."

"Sure." Bas levered himself up on one arm, his aching body hating every moment of it. He glanced down, noticing that his clothes had been cleaned. He cast a quick look at Kort, who immediately held up his hands.

"Don't look at me like that, lad. It was Ola, not me." The dwarf then walked out of the tent, "You coming?"

Bas scrambled after him, gasping at the especially sharp twinges of pain. Somehow, he made it out of his tent and over to Blue's. His hand began to tingle as it neared the flap and pushed it to one side.

Kort stood to one side, looking slightly unnerved. Meanwhile, Blue was sitting up, covered in a hole-ridden blanket, and generally looking better than Bas felt. As if guessing his thoughts, she answered, "Quick healing. Liquid mana eases recovery."

Bas said nothing, wondering what Kort had meant by 'you ought t' see for yourself'.

Another strange tingling sensation crawled over his body, as Blue answered, "Ah. That. Let's just say I gained some things and lost others." In a flash, her hand moved, driving a dagger into her left leg.

Bas shouted in surprise, but Blue tutted, a smile on her lips. "No feeling down there anymore," her face took on a mix between a grin and a grimace. "Also, as I said," She pointed to her leg, where the wound was already closing up, "quick healing."

"Oh." Bas was at odds over how to respond. He felt an irrational guilt over what had happened, but—

"No need to feel bad about it. Can't change the past. If anything, I should thank you. I'm alive, and things are... different." She smiled, "You're going to ask me if there's anything you can do. The answer is no. Then you're going to ask me if I'm reading your mind. Also no." She tilted her head in Kort's direction, "And beardy over there is wondering whether I know that he sent a Cogwork Dragon out, just now."

Kort swore, "Stop playing games, lass."

Blue simply smiled, "Playing games is all I can do. No legs remember." She drove the dagger into her leg once again, adding another hole to her covering blanket.

"And can you stop doing that. You're going t' ruin a good blanket."

Blue tapped her chin, "Well... when you put it like that..." She pulled out the blade, casually flicking blood off the tip.

Bas shuddered at Blue's nonchalant attitude. He found the entire situation eerie. To his consternation Blue seemed to detect the motion, cocking an eyebrow in such a way that he found himself almost forced to respond. "H—How?"

Blue frowned, her tone turning serious, "I don't know. It's like I'm constantly running liquid mana through my head at low levels, except without any side effects," she laughed darkly, "or legs."

Kort took a step forward, but Blue silenced him with a glare. "Save it Kort, I know you just want to know if I'm going to report your precious Dungeon. No, I won't. Mainly because the Dungeon hasn't gone rogue, even if it is a freak." She glanced at Bas, "And thank you, once again, for my life. Even if Heaven's Parapets themselves are ground to dust before I'll ever walk again."

Never. She meant never. Bas shook his head and silently departed, experiencing a guilty feeling of relief as the unsettling aura that pervaded Blue fell away.