"--For the last time," Brey scolded, his face red with irritation, "you don't ask why, you just accept it!"

"No!" the tutor snapped, slamming his hands on the study desk. "How many times must I repeat myself? This is just how it is! Accept it, take it for granted, I don't care. But, for the Master's sake, Princess, just stop asking why!"

At that, Alena's face began to whimper, a few tears forming in her eyes. He did not have to be so harsh. It was only a simple question. Sure, maybe she did ask it somewhat frequently during these lessons but he did not have to be so--so--mean!

The young princess noticed an incredible amount of guilt start to grow inside her tutor. While the initial shock of his scolding had passed, Alena decided to take his guilt and run with it. That would teach him not to be so mean.

* * *

Alena blinked awake, staring at a thin canopy of maple and cedar trees blocking an evening sky. A cool, ethereal mist blanketed their makeshift campsite, causing the princess to involuntarily shiver in its dampness. Shifting on her side, she curled into a tight ball, hoping to contain some of her warmth.

The dream seemed to be a reoccurring one. They were now into their third night since they retrieved the golden bracelet and every time they slept, she would remember Brey's lesson about life and death.

Why did it keep cropping up? Did she fear her tutor's death was imminent as well? Every part of her mind begged for such thoughts to leave, to be forgotten and remain optimistic. After all, they had made it out of the orc forest unscathed. They did seem to be on the right track to finding their way back to Frenor. Timothy did assure them so long as they kept east, they would stumble across the Old Merchant Road in due time. Doubts should be non-existent with so much optimism present.

Alena glanced in Brey's direction. Although her childhood was almost a blur, the princess still remembered what her tutor looked like when he told her about life and death as that lesson would always be ingrained in her mind. Back then, the face had yet to see wrinkles, the back had yet to slouch, the hair had yet to see the colour white, and the scalp had yet to see daylight.

He seemed so calm and serene as he slept. While the wound had eventually stopped bleeding, the danger still was not over. His face remained pale as the loss of blood took its toll. For a man his age, it was remarkable he was still alive at all.

Probably just clinging on so he can lecture us when he wakes up, Alena thought wryly, turning on her back again. Still, if that was what it took to keep him going, so be it.

The princess was about to drift off into sleep again when she heard a light muttering over the usual twilight ambience of crickets and other nocturnal animals. Sitting up, she noticed Cristo at the other end of their camp, kneeling in his praying stance. While it was his turn at watch, to be praying so late at night seemed a little odd. Curious, and not too anxious to fall back asleep only to have the dream again, Alena made her way to her bodyguard.

"Cristo," she lightly uttered, gently touching his shoulder. In the past, the bodyguard would crossly shout at her for interrupting such a private and spiritual moment. However, he had not displayed any outward hostility for a week now and Alena doubted he would suddenly start tonight.

Indeed, Cristo merely stopped his prayer and calmly turned his head. "Yes?" he said in an emotionless voice.

Alena strolled around to kneel in front of him, placing her hands on her knees. "Why are you praying so late at night?" she asked. The bodyguard blinked, as though he did not expect the question. The princess clarified. "I mean, most of the time Zenithists pray near noon and in the evening as the sun is going down. Isn't it too late to be doing this?" She realized her conversation was probably dull but she felt the need to talk about anything right now, especially with a close friend such as Cristo.

"It doesn't matter," he replied sullenly. He looked away, apparently depressed. "Master Dragon has forsaken me."

"W--what?" stuttered Alena, her eyes wide with shock.

It was not the response she had expected. While the princess did not have any real close ties to the Zenithian religion, she knew how devoted any Zenithist was to the Master. Should the Master forsake Cristo, then his existence was meaningless. All his life was spent in constant devotion of Him; his efforts, his time, his very heart and soul put into knowing how faithfully he followed Master Dragon's ethics and laws. If the Master had abandoned him, Cristo's efforts were all for naught and his soul would be forced to wander blindly on the world until it dissipated into thin air.

Yet, that just could not be true. Alena knew only a few Zenithists but Cristo had to be the most devoted one in Santeem. Why would the Master forsake such a loyal and devoted follower? It just would not make any sense.

Shuffling beside her bodyguard, she asked, "What makes you think so?"

Heaving a shuddering sigh, he replied, "My power. I no longer have it."

"Your power?" Alena echoed, a little confused. "You mean you got it from Him?"

"No," Cristo said, shaking his head. His voice seemed to grow weaker. "I mean the very basic of my clerical magic. I cannot even cast the very simplest of spells, as you saw for yourself. I tried to cast the spell after we left the cave and rested, thinking perhaps the trials we'd faced had exhausted my mind and body, leaving me unable to cast it properly. But when I attempted to heal my burnt palm, the same results came about. Any spell I cast ends in failure. And--and if my magic does not work, it--it can only mean th--that--Master--Dragon has--"

Alena could see the tears coming. It must be as though he lost a close member of his family. Remembering the pain she suffered when her mother died, the princess knew what her friend needed right now.

She took her bodyguard into her arms, allowing him to cry on her chest. Slowly petting his brown curls, Alena gently whispered reassuring words into his ear.

Several moments passed as Cristo's muffled weeping lightly echoing in the night's misty air. The princess felt oddly relaxed in this position. She felt as though she could remain here, gently cradling Cristo as a mother would, for the rest of the evening.

His moment of sorrow passed shortly, however, and he raised himself from Alena's arms. "I--" he lightly muttered, looking down. He paused, taking a deep shuddering breath. "I'm--afraid, Alena," he said at length.

The princess gave a small frown. Cristo needed reassurance and needed it desperately. Yet, all the reassurance Timothy gave her did very little to improve her morale. How could she give any when her own world was shrouded with hopelessness as well? She had to try, though.

"Cristo," she lightly said, "do you still sense the vipers?"

"Yes," he replied. "The evil I felt in their presence is still strong, even this far from the cave." The bodyguard faced Alena, his eyes desperate. "I know it's hard to believe. Indeed, it makes no sense for them to follow us this far and not attack. But you have to trust me! I do feel them close--"

Cristo's voice trailed off, a sudden thought coming to mind. His expression changed from melancholy to realization. "If I still feel the evil--" he absently mumbled, looking down.

"--Then your powers can't be all gone," Alena finished for him, thankful he had come to the same assumption she had. "And if that's the case, then Master Dragon hasn't forsaken you, right?"

The bodyguard was silent for a moment, his head turned down in deep thought. Suddenly, his shoulders began to bob up and down. Alena feared he was about to start to cry again but was relieved when she heard a light chuckle escape him. Cristo looked up, a smile on his face. "I've been foolish," he said, shaking his head.

Alena patted him on the shoulder reassuringly. She could not help but smile as well. Now that sounded like the Cristo she knew. Perhaps he was going to finally put an end to his odd behaviour.

The princess suddenly realized her bodyguard still had not revealed the reasoning for his behaviour since the night in Frenor. Perhaps now was the time to bring the subject up while he was displaying some of his old character. In a very forward manner, Alena asked him.

Cristo's smile faded and he looked away again. For a moment, Alena feared he had reverted because of her question, perhaps becoming even more closed off if it offended him.

However, the bodyguard eventually looked back, a serious look in his eyes. "Alena," he said evenly, "you mustn't share this with anyone, do you understand? I doubt you will believe me, as even I have difficulty believing it. But whether you do or don't is irrelevant. Timothy must not know and, if he survives, Brey must not know. Even you should not know but I feel you deserve it. So you must swear to me you will never let another soul know." He grabbed her shoulders, lightly shaking them. "Do you swear?"

"I--I swear!" Alena stuttered, raising her left hand. Cristo's actions took her by surprise. Rarely did she ever see him so adamant about anything.

He removed his hands from her shoulders. "All right." Cristo took a breath, trying to figure out the best way to describe what happened. He had gone over it many times in his head on their journey and still was without a clear answer. He was going to have to try, though, if anything, for himself.

"While I was standing watch outside the inn as you were sneaking inside," he began, "something--" He paused, uncomfortably rolling his tongue into his cheek. "Something extraordinary happened. I gazed at the constellation of Master Dragon to see a single star suddenly appear in His head. I swear it looked as though His eye opened and gazed back at me for an instant. After that, the next thing I remember was Tim shaking me as though I'd been asleep."

"You were praying, Cristo," Alena said, recalling how angry she had been when she saw her bodyguard just kneeling in the grass when she could have really used his help. Indeed, had he not been in that position, they might not even be where they were now, the kidnappers caught and her impostor saved. Still, it was all in the past. What had been done was done, and there was nothing they could do to change it.

"That's just the thing, Alena," Cristo continued. "I wasn't! I have no recollection of you passing by or praying after I saw the star appear. But when Tim woke me, a strange feeling came over me. I felt as though all the knowledge of the Texts coursed through my veins but was unattainable. I felt as though my life had new meaning, and that nothing I was currently doing mattered."

"Do you still feel that way?" the princess asked, fearing the answer she suspected.

Cristo looked away, frowning. "Yes," he quietly said at length.

He turned back, though, taking Alena's hands into his and clasping them tightly. Her eyes slightly widened, a little shocked by his action. "But you have to understand. I've gone over it time and time again. Why was a given a better understanding of the Texts? Why do I have this power to sense evil? The only reason I can think of is because--" He paused, choosing his words carefully. "Because--I believe--the Master has touched me."

"What?" Alena's eyes widened further, an incredulous expression on her face. This was more than she expected. She thought Cristo would merely say his odd behaviour was just an act, and that he was sorry for having been acting so strangely and stop. She thought he would have explained his evil-sensing powers was something brought on by his Zenithism studies, that all Zenithian clerics had this ability.

However, to claim Master Dragon had touched him? Such a statement was bold, even by Zenithian standards. No one, not even priests, would claim such a thing. To just assume the Master would grant such power to a novice of His church could almost be considered sacrilege. Alena could see why Cristo would not want her to share this statement with anyone else.

Cristo looked at the princess for long moments, studying her reaction. Eventually, he dolefully muttered, "You don't believe me, do you."

"N--no!" Alena quickly replied, shaking her head. Although his story was far-fetched, the sincerity in Cristo's voice caused indecision in the princess' mind. "I didn't--"

"It's all right if you don't," he interrupted, smiling knowingly. "I can understand if you don't." He squeezed Alena's hands tighter in his. "But, please, before you come to any conclusions, let me finish."

The bodyguard eased his grip. "When I came to that conclusion, I was faced with a new problem. Why me? Why would the Master touch me? Again, I could only find one answer, and that is I'm destined to do something grand."

"Cristo, I think you're exaggerating," Alena said, removing her hands from her bodyguard's grasp. She unconsciously moved a hand to her mouth, realizing what she just said probably stung him.

He remained silent for a moment, a blank expression on his face. However, Cristo did not look away as she expected. Nor did he continue to ask her to believe in his words. Instead, he merely smiled. "You're right," he said, "I probably am. I'm sorry. I may be looking too deep into this." Alena smiled, thankful he was not angry or upset with her.

"But I still believe I've been touched by Master Dragon," he continued. "For what reason, I do not know. I guess I will find out in due time, whenever the Master deems it appropriate." He looked down at his burned hand, gingerly clenching and unclenching it as though trying to determine the powers he held within his palm.

Alena's eyes widened slightly. She realized this was the first she had seen the burn, and perhaps it was for the best. Even in the dim light of twilight she could make out the more gruesome details of the wound. A red blister seemed to wrap across his palm, some areas already beginning to peel off. "Why don't you get that taken care of?" she asked, pointing at the wound.

Cristo gave her a pained look.

"No, I didn't mean it like that," Alena apologized, shaking her head. "I meant, why don't you bandage it? Won't it get infected if you leave it like that?"

"The worst of it is over," he replied, smiling knowingly. "What little healing magic I was able to cast on it has prevented any infections. All I can do now is let nature take its course."

"But doesn't it hurt at all?"

"Not really," Cristo stated matter-of-factly. "I haven't needed to use this hand much since we left the cave, so--" His voice trailed off as he suddenly looked around like a roe picking up the scent of a predator.

"What is it?" Alena asked, her voice involuntarily slightly quieter than normal. The last time she had seen her bodyguard react in such a manner was in the presence of orcs. If he could sense them close by now, she did not wish to give their position away.

"I sense them," he replied, looking around the camp's perimeter. "I can feel the orcs' presence over the vipers'."

"You mean it's stronger?" the princess said, a little intrigued by her bodyguard's ability.

"No," he clarified, "it's a different sensation. The vipers have an overbearing and ambient presence within my soul. The orcs are more like points of recognition within my mind."

"Can you tell how far away they are?"

Cristo shook his head. "I only know they are there. I have no way of knowing how close." He reached for his sword that was lying a short distance from him and stood up. "It would be best if we wake Timothy and move to a safe place before they appear." Alena nodded in agreement and stood up as well, hastily making her way to the thief.

"Tim," she whispered into his ear, lightly shaking him.

He mumbled for a moment, disorientated. Since he was the first to take the watch this night, the first thing he expected upon wakening was sunlight. Seeing it was still night would allow for some confusion.

However, his instincts were quick to realize something was amiss and he soon bolted up. "What's wrong?" he asked, grabbing his heavier garments that were too uncomfortable to sleep in.

"Orcs, I think," Alena replied. "Cristo said he sensed something, so--"

"You don't need to go into details, dear," the thief said, tucking in his travelling jacket. He then strode off to help the bodyguard with Brey.

Alena stared at him for a moment as he took off, a stunned look in her eyes. She did not know if his voice had been unintentionally harsh or not. After all, he had just woken up, and most people were usually very moody in such a state. However, the princess could not shake a nagging sensation within her mind that it was more than that; that Timothy might not be as loving and caring towards her as that one night not even a week ago.

No. Her heart refused to believe this. The affection they shared by the misty pool could not have been only a moment. There was true love felt there. It must be the stress mounting. She had seen her father and Brey display similar actions, so why could Timothy not be the same?

"Alena!" his voice called out, interrupting her disjointing thoughts. "We need your help! Get over here!" Again, the harsh voice; accidental, surely, but harsh nonetheless.

"Yes?" she said, walking over to her companions.

"We've got a problem," the thief said, staring down at the unconscious tutor. "We can hide easily enough, as there are plenty of climbable trees to do the trick. Unfortunately, James is another story." He looked up, his eyes falling on the princess sympathetically. "There's just no place around here to hide him adequately, I'm afraid."

"What do you suggest then?" Alena asked. Timothy looked at her for a moment, as though he was about to ask the same question. It was not exactly the best thing for morale.

"The way I see it," he replied at length as he rubbed his chin, "we have two options. The first one is to try to run while carrying Brey. The other--"

A rustling from the surrounding forest interrupted the thief and all three of the travellers brought their weapons up defensively. "Scratch the first option," Timothy remarked dryly.

The bush continued to grow with activity, the orcs making their presence known even without Cristo's abilities. This confused Alena a bit, remembering how the raiders would rely on surprise tactics before forward rushes. Could Cristo have sensed something other than orcs, something so menacing no traveller would have been unable to report it?

Letting your imagination run wild, Alena she scolded herself, lightly moving her head to shake any fear aside. After all, what could be worse than orcs in this world?

The monsters finally burst through the forest and the travellers braced themselves for the initial onslaught. However, for long moments, there were no shrieking battle cries, no clashing of weapons, and no shouts of agony as both parties fought to the bitter end. The orcs, more than half a dozen strong and clearly more than a match for the travellers, stared at their opponents the moment they burst into the campsite. A confused expression was etched on the face of every single one.

While the surprise of both parties seemed to last forever, only a few seconds after the orcs had entered the campsite had passed before Alena instinctively reacted. Her whip snapped forward, a thin spray of orc blood following its path as it slashed across the face of one of her enemies. The raider stumbled backwards, the blow catching everyone off-guard.

Alena had drawn the first blood, somewhat by accident, but at least her opponents now knew they were serious should blows start to fall. Yet, seeing the raging fire growing in the eyes of the orcs, the princess wondered if this all could have been avoided had she not struck out.

It was too late for that now, though. The hatred she saw beginning to take over the orcs clearly outlined their course of action.

Save two of the whole mass, the orcs rushed forward, revenge foremost on their minds. The travellers tried to fend off the attackers but the force was too overwhelming and they were knocked to the ground where they could do little more than feebly block blow after blow. The raiders did not even reach for their weapons, so bent on hurting the travellers their fists seemed more than adequate to vent their rage.

The attack did not last long, though, as an ear-piercing shriek interrupted the orcs' melee. The raiders stopped and turned, staring at one of the orcs which had not rushed forward. Through a dazed vision, Alena was able to make out the curious actions of the orc, seemingly barking out hoarse commands and waving the others off. A few, disgruntled moans escaped a few of the attackers but they did as they were commanded.

Alena, Cristo, and Timothy were forced into a kneeling position with three orcs keeping their rusty swords on them at all time. Two more of the raiders went to the unconscious form of Brey, kicking and screeching into his ears as they thought the old tutor was merely sleeping.

Alena felt a sickening sensation grow within her gut as she could do no more than watch her tutor being abused in such a manner. She wished she could stand and rush to his aid, taking out the orcs in a single motion. The princess knew the moment she moved in any attempt to get away, though, she would find a rusty blade embedded in her chest. Besides, after the beating she just took, the princess did not know if she even had the strength to fight back.

The orcs seemed to finally give up on Brey and began to rummage through their meagre supplies. Alena began to worry whether they might find the golden bracelet, making their journey all for naught. She looked at Timothy, as he was the last person she had seen with the treasure. The thief gave her a reassuring grin, as though he had read her very worries. Still, Alena would not stop worrying until the danger was past.

Having found nothing more substantial than food in their possession, the orc in command gave out a harsh barking noise. The rest of the raiders slugged the travellers a little more, then disappeared into the forest, their rustling echoing in the dark night.

Once the enemy was gone, Alena could do little more than ungracefully collapse on the damp ground, her companions following in similar fashion. All she wanted was to lie on the ground, let the numb pain that persisted within her body subside as a blissful unconsciousness began to sweep over her.

No! her mind stubbornly shouted at her. They spared you once but they could be back, and with no mercy in their foul hearts. We have to get out of here, and fast.

Her body groaning in protest as she did, the princess wearily pushed herself up, getting a better idea of how her companions were doing. "Tim--" she weakly said, "Cristo--? Are you all right?" Both her companions were groggily recovering as well. Bruises covered their bodies, trickles of blood leaking from numerous cuts. It could have been worse but Alena had to wonder how it could get any worse.

Although he managed to display a stoic expression, Cristo's pain was still evident. His breathing was haggard and the support his arms supplied as he pushed himself up was shaky. She also noticed the bodyguard's mouth was slightly moving, as though a silent prayer was being uttered. It was not hard to understand the reasoning for it, though. Again in desperate time of need, the Master had failed to assist His follower. Cristo's mind was undoubtedly reeling in confusion and despair in a similar fashion from earlier in the night.

However, he had come out of the state of depression easily enough before, so he should have little trouble dealing with the turmoil on his own. Right now, Alena's heart directed her elsewhere.

Timothy was rolling slowly on the ground, moaning as he clutched his chest in pain. Although it was nothing more serious than internal bruising, Alena's immediate thoughts were injuries as severe as broken ribs, punctured lungs, internal bleeding, and any other ailments her panicked mind could conjure.

She was no more than ten feet away, yet the distance seemed like a giant chasm before her. She tried to crawl to him, to perhaps provide some comfort in his agony, but every movement sent flashes of numbing pain. She was determined to be with him, though, and no amount of pain was going to stop her.

"Tim," she lightly called out, her lungs heaving as the numb pain seemed to even strain her voice. Her hands moved forward sluggishly but steadily.

The thief did not respond as he persisted to moan.

Alena continued to lightly call out, moving forward as fast as her tortured body would allow. It did not take as long as she thought to reach her beloved and she gingerly reached out a shaking hand to touch him, perhaps even to cradle him as she did Cristo as their wounds healed together. Her fingers brushed across his back as she started to ask whether he was all right. A rather stupid question, since the pain Timothy suffered was blatantly apparent. The princess still felt a need to say it, though; if anything, to let him know she was close and ready to nurse him back to health.

She was interrupted, however. Timothy cut her off before she had a chance to finish her sentence. Alena somewhat expected this, as she knew the thief, like any man, was probably too proud to admit he was hurt more than the truth told. A gruff, "I'm fine!" would not leave a stunned expression on the princess' face.

When the thief's head turned, his face was flared with anger and his words drenched in venom. "You moron!"

Alena's senses went numb. She could not hear the mild, nocturnal noises of the forest, she could not see Timothy's body lying before her, she could not even feel the numb pain that remained within her body.

All she could feel was a piercing, rusty, dull blade slice through her chest and twist savagely into the bottom of her gut.

"W--what?" was all she managed to utter in response.

"You heard me!" the thief angrily shot, slowly raising onto his knees. He still clutched his chest but he did not seem to display anymore pain through the ire in his eyes. "This didn't have to happen! Couldn't you tell they weren't raiders?"

Alena stared forward but was unable to focus on anything. "No--" she mumbled.

"Well, they weren't!" He coughed a bit, groaning as every one sent flaming spasms through his chest. "They were as surprised to see us as we were to see them. We could have easily just backed away, disappeared into the woods, and they wouldn't have given us a second thought, carrying on whatever business they had in this area. But, no! You have to go and attack one of them, and--"

Timothy paused, his eyes finally falling onto Alena's face. He saw tears lightly trickle down, her shoulders lightly bobbing as she sniffed back a few sobs. Perhaps before he would have apologized and hugged her sympathetically. However, his patients were growing thin with her. Too many times she had displayed the inexperience of a spoiled girl, expecting everything to be fixed with an apology. Whatever respect he had left for her was rapidly diminishing.

"Ah--" he grumbled. Waving her away as he turned from her, the thief took off into the perimeter of the woods.

"Tim--" she uttered. Alena watched him get up and move to an area of their camp the orcs did not search, her sight blurred by tears. She so much wanted to cry but the pain, both physical and emotional, made it impossible.

"Alena," she heard Cristo's distant voice.

She did not want to deal with anything else right now, though. She did not want to hear counselling from her bodyguard. She just wanted to be left alone and let the sorrow trapped within to flow freely from her soul.

"It's Brey--"

So what? What does it matter? Who cares about Brey right now? Can't you see I'm the one who needs help? Why can't Tim see that? Why did he have to be so harsh? So maybe I did make a mistake. At least we're all still--

"He's dead."

Alena's lungs choked in mid-breath.

No! Her mind raced furiously. No! Anything but that! He has to be alive. Cristo must be wrong! Oh, Master, please let him be wrong!

The princess spun around, her emotional distress with Timothy pushed into the back of her mind. She crawled forward, her gaze upon the huddled form of Cristo over the peaceful form of Brey. Too peaceful--

"He can't be!" Alena cried, her voice cracking. She reached her old tutor and lightly touched his balding head with shaking hands. His body was warm but that could prove nothing. She looked at his chest and saw it was no longer slowly moving up and down.

No breath, no life--no hope--

She grabbed her bodyguard's shoulders, roughly shaking him. "Cristo!" she wailed, her pleading eyes brimming with tears. "Heal him! Oh, Master, you just have to be able to!"

He looked away, as though ashamed to face the princess. "I--I've already tried," he said, his voice shaky, "but my magic fails me, just as before."

Absolute despair befell Alena's face. This could not be happening right now. It all had to be some sort of terrible, ongoing dream. Her only desire was to be back home, to forget her whole stupid quest, to resume her dull routine and leave danger and excitement behind. Her mind scolded her this was all her fault and her heart believed every word. Had she not thrown the boomerang, had she actually put some effort into learning how to use the stupid thing, Brey might have stood a chance against the viper.

"There was nothing you could have done," she heard Cristo gently say.

Only then did Alena realize her thoughts were being spoken out loud and a mild burst of embarrassment let the despair subside for a brief moment. It was not enough to calm her chaotic mind, though.

"The viper would have had him whether you threw it or not," the bodyguard continued, his voice unemotional but reassuring. "You probably did him a favour by knocking him out, saving him from the pain such an injury."

Alena looked at him for a moment, her face stunned as a few tears of despair slid down her cheeks. "Th--that isn't a good thing, Cristo," she cried.

The bodyguard rubbed the back of his neck uncomfortably. "I guess it didn't come out the way I meant," he apologized. "I meant Brey--"

"I knew they wouldn't find it," Timothy interrupted as he re-entered the campsite, unaware of Brey's condition. He was lightly tossing the golden bracelet up and down, treating the valuable artifact as nothing more significant than a child's toy. "Those orcs aren't bright enough to search other places than a--oh!"

The thief let out a mild gasp upon witnessing the scene before him. Judging from Alena's grief-stricken face, Cristo's melancholy expression, and Brey's prone form, he did not have to guess what had happened.

However, instead of providing comfort to his companions, Timothy merely looked away. His frown was not that of sympathy but almost cocky, as though he had expected this to happen. Alena could not believe he would do such a thing.

She crawled on her hands and knees, grabbing his leg pitifully. "Tim!" she wailed. "H--he's dead! H--how can he be dead? This can't be happening! Can't you do something?"

"What could I possibly do?" the thief shot angrily, turning down on the princess as he lightly kicked her away. "Cristo's the healer here, not me!"

He turned to the bodyguard with an accusing glare. "Let me guess, Cris," he said. "You tried to call upon your powers, only to have the Master not answer your prayers, am I right?" Cristo nodded sullenly.

"I gather you did not even try to breathe life into the old man, right?" Timothy added. At that, Cristo looked curiously at the thief.

Timothy shook his head, a tiny smirk finding its way to his mouth. "It's just like you Zenithists," he said, an almost contempt tone in his voice. "Always thinking Zenithian magic is the only way to save someone's life."

"W--what do you mean?" Alena quickly asked, a glimmer of hope sparkling in her tear-drenched eyes.

The thief sighed. "Fine," he grumbled, making his way over to Brey. "I'll show you what I mean, if anything to teach you two something about surviving out in the wild."

Timothy knelt beside the old tutor's body and tilted his calm head slightly up. "Just remember," the thief added before he began, "this isn't a guarantee it will save his life, but if this doesn't work, I don't know of anything else that will." His companions nodded grimly and prayed to Master Dragon this technique of "breathing life" would work.

Timothy placed his hands on Brey's chest and began to press down onto it in a series of quick, violent motions. After several of these, the thief gently grabbed Brey's head and held it steady. He then bent over and placed his mouth to Brey's.

Alena's eyes widened with shock as it appeared Timothy was kissing her tutor. However, upon seeing the thief's cheeks slightly bulge out, she quickly realized he was blowing air into him; no, breathing the life into him! Once Timothy expelled all of his air into Brey, the thief continued to press into his chest before breathing into the old tutor again.

He repeated this cycle for long moments, his face always grim and determined. Such was a side of the thief Alena had never seen before. He had displayed light-hearted kindness and passionate fury in many cases but seriousness still seemed a foreign concept to Timothy. There was indeed more to this man than the princess was first attracted to but could these various personalities change her perspective of him? Despite the reservations her mind continued to bombard Alena with, her heart's interpretation of him remained unchanged, and that was all that mattered.

Eventually, Brey's body violently jerked forward, a muffled cough escaping his mouth. Timothy backed away, smiling at the satisfaction of an accomplished task. "He should be all right," he said, holding back the urge to add, "--For now."

Brey's recovery may have only delayed the inevitable as the wound he had suffered was still life threatening without proper medical attention. Still, any form of adverse information would not be good for morale with all that had happened this night.

No, seeing Alena's face break out into pure, undulated joy, not even the Ruler of Evil would want to have such an expression tarnished. It was best to let her enjoy it while she could.

The princess' tears of happiness washed away her tears of despair upon seeing her tutor slowly raise. Brey rubbed his head, blinking as the disorientation of unconsciousness wore off. He groaned lightly as the numb pain in his shoulder finally became apparent. As he massaged the slowly healing wound, he gazed around, his eyes meeting Alena's. The old tutor blinked a few times, perplexed as to why she was crying. "What--happened--?" he managed to ask.

All Alena could do was wrap her arms around Brey, her tears of joy falling on her old tutor's shoulders. "You--you're alive!" she cried, squeezing him tightly. "Oh, thank the Master! You're alive!"

Despite confusion and wincing pain in his shoulder, Brey smiled and returned her hug, gently patting the princess' back in comfort.