The morning was well underway, deep azure sky was visible through the treetops from the mouth of the cave, and bright sunlight dappled through the leaves to play along the floor of the entrance where Tim stood. One hand raked through his sleep tousled curls as he tried to restore some semblance of order there. Tim’s belly growled. He had slept later than usual. He looked behind him to see that Fal still slept, though Tim couldn’t tell if he really did. Often enough in the past he had thought Fal asleep and been startled by the Guardian suddenly roaring and heaving upward, his head twisting about, searching out Tim and freezing him with hard, golden eyes, huge toothed jaws open. Terrified, Tim would race from the cave, never quite knowing what Fal might do next. Apparently, it gave Fal pleasure to frighten him in this way. When Tim dared to creep into the cave several hours later, Fal would ignore him, acting as though nothing was amiss. Fal hadn’t played this little game since returning from the battle with the small Guardian, but Tim was still wary.

This morning, Tim moved quietly out of the cave and loped along his usual trail zig-zagging up the mountainside. It would take him up toward the gaping mouth of an enormous tunnel in the side of Guardian Mountain. This was a place that he had never dared to explore for fear of meeting Guardian’s even less tolerant than Fal. He usually gave the tunnel a wide berth.

His eyes had grown sharp in his time with Fal and he knew the plants whose roots made a palatable stew and the likeliest places to find them. The morning air was fresh with the scent of scrub juniper and forest pine, carried to him on the inevitable winds scouring the mountainside. He bent his head to his search. Scanning the rocky ground, he looked for the telltale signs of lace-like leaves and stubby, thick stems growing from sweet orange roots beneath. He walked for some time until he passed into a thicket of brush. A lilting melody wafting on the breeze arrested his attention. Curious, he moved through the brush and listened intently. High, thin notes wept even as he heard sobs beneath them, and he felt his heart respond, reaching out to the one who suffered.

He moved closer and with a start recognized the girl sitting on a rocky outcropping. He had met her only once before, when they stood on opposite sides of an attack that never should have happened. Halting abruptly, he stood there mute, just looking at her. She wore her brown hair in a single braid down her back and sat with arms holding slender, tanned knees to her chest. Sun sparkled off of the greystone beneath her, and shone from the wet tracks of tears on her cheeks.

Memories of Fal clawing and raking at the beautiful, small Guardian beneath him, raced through Tim’s mind. Feeling ashamed, he was about to turn away.

A tiny, green flyer, lifted into the air from the girl’s shoulder and buzzed right at his face, coming to a stop and hovering before his nose, wings whirring. It made a loud, chittering noise and shook minute fists at him. He took an inadvertent step back and lifted his hands defensively. He had to cross his eyes to get a good look at it. He was amazed to see that it was human in appearance. Angry, slanted eyes in a sharp-chinned green face, drilled through him. His brain searched for a memory and then he hit upon it. Flyer Folk. At any other time he would have been thrilled to meet this creature he’d only heard about in stories, but right now it was anything but friendly. It looked like it was about to attack him.

The girl lifted her head abruptly and looked at him, her song silenced. She made no effort to hide her tear-streaked cheeks and reddened eyes, but stared up at him, a look of recognition in her eyes.

“I…I  k…know you.”

Tim thought about running, surely nothing good could come of this, but something held him there. He kept his eyes on the angry flyer and scuffed the toe of his boot on the gravelly earth. “Uh-huh,” he said.

The girl leapt to her feet, brown eyes snapping. “You! Where is that… that creature who is no kind of Guardian?”  She planted her hands on her hips, elbows bent like the mantling wings of an enraged Guardian.

Tim brought his hands up palms out, as if to placate her and maybe fend them both off.

“He’s not here, and…and…I’m sorry.”

“Sorry! It ripped her to shreds! She almost died!”

The little flyer emphasized those words with a burst of chattering sound and made a lunge at his face.

He took a step back, hands up in front of his face.  “I know. I know. I’m sorry. He won’t hurt her again.” One help me, I hope he won’t, he thought.

Chancing a look away from the aggressive flyer, Tim glanced at the girl’s reddened cheeks and swollen eyes.

“Is that why you’re crying?” His eyes shifted uneasily back to the flyer whirring before him.

“What?” The girl scrubbed at her cheeks with both hands. “No!”

“Is the Guardian healed?”

“Y…yes, not that you d…did anything to h…help her.”

“I did… I…I tried to stop him.” The hovering green flyer backed off a little, still chittering but more quietly now, the tone almost questioning. Figuring it would be better to show how peaceable he was, Tim dared to lower his hands and clasp them behind his back.

The girl stared at him, her lips twisting up like she was going to cry again.

“One knows, I didn’t want that to happen.”

Expressionless now, she studied him.

He looked at her hopefully. “My name’s, Tim.”

She glared, then shrugged her shoulders, eyes rolling as she canted her head back. The flyer left him and buzzed back to the girl’s shoulder, landing gently and lifting a miniature green hand to rest against the girl’s pale-skinned neck.

Tim grunted and tucked his chin, looking away. Of course, she would hate him.

He heard her let out a sharp, huffing breath. “L…Lisle.”

His eyes darted back to her face, the corners of his mouth daring a smile. She wasn’t quite looking at him, her eyes hovering somewhere to the left of his face. Figuring this was an improvement, he decided he wouldn’t try for further conversation. He gave her an opened handed wave and started back the way he had come, his feet moving easily over the rocky ground. He felt lighter knowing the small Guardian was alright. Then a surprising thought occurred to him, maybe Lisle could be a friend. I’d like a friend. He looked back over his shoulder to see her watching him, her staunch companion staring at him intently. Not too sure about that little green flyer though. His hand lifted in acknowledgment, and unable to stop himself, his lips split into a grin. An uncomfortable gurgling resounded in his belly. Still hungry, he thought, and bent his head to the task of filling his stomach. 
 
 
 
 
 

At first Fal hid within the familiar darkness, dreading the arrival of the voices that haunted him. He waited, resting in the gloom. It felt good to rest. The terrible hunger for more, more power, more domination, more control, was absent. Like a body part cut off, he kept expecting it to be there, but there was only a frozen empty space inside where there should have been burning need. It was oddly restful.

Over time, Fal accepted that icy cave within. He felt a growing curiosity and chose to enter the void and explore. The voices were silent still, seemingly allowing him this.

He floated in blue space, surrounded on all sides by frozen, translucent perfection. He felt calm and content just to be there. Gradually, his attention was drawn by a slight movement, just visible within the blue ice that was before him. He looked deep and saw a face. It was Wufn, the man who raised and abused him. The man who died for him. Then another face, the Hunter, a man whom he never met in the flesh, but who also died because of him, even as the Hunter himself was an instrument of death. Then many other faces of those who had feared him, those who revered, obeyed and died for him. He saw his boy, Tim, cringing before him, and he saw himself, raging, mindless, obsessed. Surrounding the faces and visions in the ice were countless beasts, pullers, runners, rooters, even hoppers all watching him. He knew without knowing how he knew, that these were the creatures he had hunted, unwilling and tormented they died a death unsanctified, a death for his pleasure.

Emotions long frozen trickled through cracks that appeared in the ice all around him. He felt scalding droplets where they landed hot and painful within him.  

Now another face, the girl and the faces of her companions, wandering deep within the ice then turning to look at him, one by one. He saw terror and anger in their faces. He saw the Guardian, Ell, in all her beauty, wings stretched outward, graceful neck curved, and glorious golden eyes caressing him, knowing him; and even knowing all he was, she loved him.

It was too much, the cracks in the walls split wide open and he was drowning in a flood of shame and soul-deep regret.

The flood bore him up and out of that inner space, and he floated once again in the comforting darkness. Now, surely the voices would take him and he would be lost within that roiling greed. But no voices came, and the dark held him. He was reminded of the feeling he knew before hatching, curled within his shell, safe, warm and cared for. The memory was so strong, he almost felt that delicate protection surrounding him, could nearly see the translucent green light filtering through. He felt once again what it was like to be an unhatched Guardian of the One, the unwavering trust, the sure knowledge of his place on the Pathways and the deep understanding of his purpose. He wanted that again, with all that was within him.

Fal made his choice, he closed his inner eyes and fell into the eternal embrace of the One.

When once again he became aware of himself, he opened inner eyes to see darkness surrounding him. It was lit with dim pathways of white light, just barely perceptible. With joy, he recognized the Pathways of the One. It had been so long since he had turned his back on the One, he didn’t deserve this. Still, Fal dove deep and the Pathways grew brighter.

It was the outer world that was a shadow to him now, the only reality for Fal was here, tracing the Pathways. Here was freedom. The voices no longer haunted him. The void of the One so dark before, was now filled with light. He reveled in his liberty and wanted nothing more than to stay, a sparkling point of light moving, exploring, playing among countless other sparks.

Occasionally his mind touched upon a question, and then leapt away again as if from a sharp pain. Did he really deserve such joy? Perhaps not, most assuredly not, but he would accept this delight, allow it and seek more of it. He was a creature of the One again. He had chosen and the One welcomed him.

During the short periods of time in which Fal was aware of the shadow outer world he felt his boy there beside him. Though he never opened his eyes, he felt the devotion of that heart holding him. He wondered how it could be so. Surely, he never earned such devotion. When one night he felt the warm presence of the boy curl up next to him in sleep, he didn’t drive him away as he might have in the past, but allowed that small familiarity. Waking fully, Fal raised his head and curling his neck backward, looked at the boy, seeing his long legs tucked up beneath him, arms clutched about his thin chest. For the first time, Fal thought love to his boy.  Then, with sudden realization, Fal knew peace. Resting his head on the ground beside his boy, his Contracted, he slept.

*****
Tim had no idea how to help Fal. As far as Tim could see Fal needed nothing from him, lost as he was in his inner world. But Tim loved Fal. One only knows why, thought Tim. So, Tim did what he could, which was to watch over his Guardian.

 As the days passed, he left Fal’s cave for only short periods of time. Fal didn’t need to eat but Tim did, and he would scavenge as quickly as possible, bringing what he found back to the cave and resuming his vigil.

When night fell, Tim curled up in the corner of the cave in his usual spot, but the air flowing in from the cave mouth was chilling and Tim’s thin body shivered. The heat radiating off of the Guardian’s scaled hide was irresistible and he dared to move closer to Fal. Tim had tried this in the past and been forced away with a hard thrust of Fal’s powerful tail. But maybe now, when Fal seemed to be so unaware. Maybe just a little bit of warmth, he thought. Walking his hands and knees along the cave floor, Tim quietly crept closer, close enough to rest against Fal’s enormous side. He felt the Guardian’s heat flow into him, soothing his shivering muscles. It was a joy to allow himself such closeness with his Guardian, even for just a few stolen moments. He pillowed his head on the warm surface meaning to move away again before Fal woke. But the deep, wooshing sound of the great Guardian’s breath lulled him to sleep.

He dreamt. He was a small younger held in the warmth of his mother’s arms. The sound of her breathing comforted him as he rested his head against her softly lifting chest. He felt love surround and fill him with a glorious, rose-hued light, and he slept more deeply, more restfully than he had for a very long time.

​Lisle reached to hold Ell’s head with both hands and leaned down to kiss the smooth, scaled muzzle. Ell gazed lovingly at her, gold eyes soft, then turned and floated to the other side of the pool, paddling with her great, hind legs on the rocky bottom. Lisle watched her, admiring the graceful curve of carmine tipped spinal ridges and tail snaking through the water. Then she resolutely walked back to Gareth’s tiny room.

​Standing outside the curtained doorway she announced herself and pushed the curtain aside. A small amount of light from the torches in the hallway shone on Gareth’s back. He lay in the shadows, just as before, shoulders hunched within his much-rumpled tunic, bandaged leg resting bent kneed, his face turned to the wall. He said nothing.

Lisle hooked the curtain open. Then she took her courage in hand and faced Gareth squarely, hand on her hips, legs spread wide. She glared at his back and took a deep breath, “G…Gareth, e…enough. Y…you can’t j…just d…die. You’re d…doing n…nothing to h…h…” She stamped her foot on the floor in her frustration to get the words out, “help yourself. D…Delorin s…says you’re g…going to l…l…lose your leg i…if y…you don’t try t…to get well.”

Feeling exhausted from the effort of pushing so many words out, Lisle felt frustration and fear engulf her. Her eyes watered up, and she tightened her lips as if that might hold in the tears.

Gareth turned slowly over, grimacing with the pain from his inflamed and swollen leg.

“What do you care what happens to me? I let everyone down.”

Eyebrows pinching, mouth turned down in frustration, Lisle watched Gareth.

“I couldn’t do my job. I couldn’t protect anyone.” Gareth’s eyes fell to the floor. “You don’t understand. I’ve always been strong. I’ve always been the leader. I was the one everyone looked up to. I wish I’d never met that Guardian…” His voice trailed off. He closed his eyes and lay back.

Heat flooded Lisle’s cheeks. A tear overflowed, running down the side of her face and she brushed it away impatiently. How dare he lay there and let himself die just because he felt sorry for himself? 

“You, you self-important, puffed-up, strutting, ground flier! You let yourself get sicker and sicker just because you weren’t the one to save Ell?”

Gareth looked up at her, a shocked expression on his face.

“Just because things worked out the way they did and Terris was able to save Ell, you feel like it shoulda’ been you? What about the rest of us, all worried sick about you?”

Lisle stomped about the tiny room, arms flailing at the air.

As she ranted, color came back into Gareth’s pale face. What could have been a smile began to play about his cracked, dry lips as his eyes tracked her movements.

“I don’t care that you weren’t the one who jumped off that cliff. I’m glad you weren’t. It was awful seeing Terris…” Lisle gulped back a sob that threatened and more words poured out of her mouth. “But you aren’t thinking about that are you? No! No, you’re just thinking about how you aren’t the big protector saving Ell every time there’s trouble! You’re just thinking about yourself!”

Gareth’s dark eyes narrowed, hardened. The corners of his mouth turned down. Gritting his teeth, he pushed himself to a sitting position, back braced against the wall.

The motion caught Lisle’s attention and she stopped her tirade. Scuffling her feet, color suffusing cheeks already pink with agitation, she looked down, away from Gareth.
​
 “Get out.”

Lisle froze, mouth slightly open, eyes wide, then she turned and ran from the room.

Gareth’s eyelids fluttered shut, and he leaned his head back against the wall.

You’re pathetic Gareth, he thought. Now you’re scaring little girls. What is the matter with you?

His thoughts took a darker turn.  I’m nothing, nobody, that’s what. Nothing matters anymore. It’s that Guardian’s fault. If only I hadn’t found her that day in the woods.

Gareth knew there was something wrong with the logic of this line of thought. It didn’t  really make sense. It wasn’t the Guardian’s fault. He thought. It wasn’t even my fault. Things happened the way they did and it was lucky for all of us that Terris and Moss were there.  Gareth’s eyes blinked open. The dark thoughts that had been gripping him now seemed a little ridiculous.

I’m better than this. He thought. So, maybe I wasn’t the big protector like I wanted to be. Maybe I don’t have to be the one everyone looks up to all the time. The thought brought an unexpected sense of relief. His felt his lips curve upward. With a self-deprecating laugh, he shook his head.  Lisle’s right. I’ve been doing nothing but feeling sorry for myself. He resolved to do better. He owed Lisle an apology, but first he’d have to get back on his feet.

Setting his jaw against the pain he knew would follow, he pushed himself upright and stood on one leg, hand braced against the rough rock of the wall. Red streaks of lightning pain shot out from the wound in his thigh, almost overwhelming him. He grabbed at the wall to support himself and then reached out blindly, grasping for the crutch which Healer Delorin had left for him near his pallet, and which he had ignored up until this point. Then taking a deep, steadying breath, he hobbled one painful step forward and then another. Slowly, he made his way out of the shadowed space behind him. The light of the hallway glinted at him from countless sparkling facets in the walls, and he squinted against the brightness. Leaning heavily on his crutch, he made his way slowly down the hall to find Lisle.

Lisle trailed her hand along the greystone wall beside her as she almost floated through the tunnel deep within Guardian Mountain. The craggy surface tickled her fingers. She watched as the crystalline structure of the rock winked sparkles of light at her, reflecting from the torch sconces hanging along the tunnel wall. Being here filled her with joy and energy. She felt cleansed and renewed.  It was as if all the exhausting weeks of traveling and the terrors of pursuit dropped away from her. She reveled in the feeling of the roughened surface beneath her feet, loving the hide slippers she’d been given. The air smelled fresh and clean, despite the fact that no breath of wind disturbed the tranquility of the pathway.
​
Since their arrival, Lisle had lost count of how many suns had risen and set, she and Ell were immersed in training, learning of their paired role as Guardian and Voice and their place in the Plan of the One. Their teacher was the huge Guardian that Lisle had first encountered when she entered the Cavern of the Guardians. She was Gran Bryl, Eldress and dame of Ell. Gran Bryl communicated with them through her Voice and Contracted, Bryllint, a small woman, brown haired and brown eyed like Lisle. But there the resemblance ended. Bryllint was a powerhouse of energy, striding about the room on her short legs, practically bouncing off the walls in her excitement to communicate all that flowed through her. Lisle loved to watch and listen to her. She was riveted by the connection between Bryllint and Gran Bryl. The two functioned almost as one. Gran Bryl the wisdom and guidance, Bryllint the hands and voice.

Lisle wanted to be this for Ell with a depth of wanting that felt like an unquenchable thirst. Yet, how could she? She struggled to spit words out. It was a battle to say even a short sentence. The only time she could speak plainly was when she was angry. Then the words poured out of her mouth like a river. But that’s no help to me. She thought. I can’t be angry all the time!

In the rare quiet moments, when she and Ell could sit together and share the Pathways, Ell assured Lisle that it would all work out, and that she, herself, already knew everything that was being taught to them. Lisle wondered if it was so, Ell was a very young Guardian, and Lisle wondered how it could all work out. But she trusted Ell with all that was in her. The ways of Guardians were a mystery to Lisle, perhaps Ell really did know.

Lisle often found her new life overwhelming. She sought refuge outside, among the rocks and tundra on the mountain. There, she had a favorite spot overlooking the surrounding countryside, sun-warmed and wind swept. Or she would walk, the scrubby growth of the alpine tundra crunching beneath her feet. It cleared her mind just to be there, allowing the steady breath of the mountainside to wash over her, cleansing away her fears.  

Between the teaching, quiet time with Ell and restorative walks, she hadn’t spent as much time as she would have liked with Terris and Moss and especially Gareth, though she knew he was in good hands with the healer, Delorin.  

Lisle's lips twitched upward, as she thought of Terris, reveling in his new life here, increasingly in demand in the kitchens as his prowess with a cooking pot became common knowledge. He was kept busy morning till night, chopping, stirring, tasting and hunting his beloved herbs about the countryside.

Moss had adapted to life in Guardian Mountain with ease, and had a following of adoring flier folk. They were fascinated by her dramatic, aerial reenactments of the companion’s adventuresome journey. A journey in which Moss always played the starring role, protecting Ell, and guiding her safely to Guardian Mountain.

Today, Terris and Lisle met in the tunnel, both on their way to see Gareth and glad enough to go together. They entered the room to find Gareth lying upon his pallet, facing the wall.

“Content as a croaker on a log, I see,” said Terris, touching Gareth gently on the shoulder. Gareth gave no reply, only lifting his shoulder away, turning further into the wall.

“What’s this?” asked Terris, and looked at Lisle.

“G…Gareth, d…does y…your leg p…p…pain you?” Lisle moved closer, bending over him.

“Go away,” said Gareth.

Lisle stood up and looked in bewilderment at Terris. Her stomach clenched and she felt a roiling, burning sensation within. Anger, and fear. What does Gareth have to be afraid of? She thought. Lisle moved away from the bedside to stand beside Terris.

Terris shrugged. “Come on, he’ll likely feel more like comp’ny later.”

The next day, feeling reticent and worried, Lisle found Terris and bade him accompany her to see Gareth again. The response from Gareth was the same, except this time with his back turned, face to the wall, he said nothing. They left him wrapped in silence.

Lisle was hurt and confused by his response, or lack of it. She was afraid she must have done something to anger him, but what could she have done? She felt afraid for him, afraid of losing him. He wasn’t getting better.

Lisle sought out the healer, Delorin. The healer just shook her head. “It should have been healing by now. I don’t know what else we can do. Until that young man wants to heal, I can’t help him.”

Disturbed, Lisle found a quiet spot and closed her eyes. Feeling within, she sought Ell, sending her awareness down into the heart area of her chest, and turning slowly. There, she felt the pull, the happy feeling she knew would lead her to Ell. Lisle followed the twisting turns of tunnels, always taking the turn in the direction of where she felt that tingling joy that was Ell. She entered a deep cavern. It housed the hot pools, hidden away within the depths of Guardian Mountain. The air smelled of eggs, but Lisle didn’t find it unpleasant. Through the warm steam rising from the pool and fogging the air, she saw Ell, floating lazily, all but her eyes, nostrils and spinal ridge under the bubbling surface. Lisle sat on the greystone ledge at the side of the pool and draped her hand into the water beside Ell. It was hot, too hot. She pulled her hand out quickly, blowing on reddened fingers.

Ell raised her head and nuzzled Lisle’s fingers. Then she looked up into Lisle’s eyes, gold meeting brown. Lisle felt a tingling sensation wash up and over her, love welling up within her and overflowing. Taking in a deep, grateful breath, she reached down to scratch Ell behind the ear opening at the side of her head. Ell’s scaly hide felt warm and flexible under Lisle’s fingers, and Ell leaned her head into Lisle’s hand.

Haltingly, Lisle told Ell of her concern about Gareth, her fear of losing him, the fact that he wasn’t allowing himself to heal, and her worry that he was somehow angry with her. She put it all into words, slowly and without rushing herself.

Ell listened patiently, floating in the steaming water beside her. Lisle felt her loving presence gratefully, even as she struggled to form all those words.

She took a deep breath as her words ran down and the need behind them finally released. Then she looked up, eyes wide. Lisle knew what she needed to do and she needed to do it now.
 
 

​Fal felt as though his chest was cracking open like the skull of the runner from his meal that morning, which he so easily crushed in his jaws. His chest hurt, red hot pain radiating outward from the center, burning lightning into his shoulders, up into his throat and all the way down to his gut. His throat was parched. He badly needed water to drink, or blood. At the thought of blood, sudden, flooding nausea threatened to overwhelm him. He lost his balance and veered off, his wings tipping sideways in the air.
 
He felt tipsy like a morning flier drunk on old berries. It was all he could do to stay in the air, even as his wings flapped desperately. He couldn’t find his center. The balance so natural to him in flight was gone. His tail turned frantic circles in a futile effort to regain the equilibrium lost to him.
 
His nostrils were filled with the spicy, floral scent of her, mixed with the coppery tang of the smaller Guardian's blood. It was an enticing combination. She was so beautiful, so delicate. Even in his rage he had seen that. Nausea flooded over him at the thought, and he lurched off in the wrong direction, feeling as though he might at any moment empty the contents of his stomach.  
 
An enormous tree loomed up before him and he just barely negotiated his way around the shaggy, grey trunk by tilting his wings wildly and careening off in another direction entirely. He had to backtrack then, circling around to head back toward his cave.
 
His cave was all he wanted now, dark, comforting and safe. Whatever was happening to him he could deal with there, if only he could get back. He flapped his wings, lost his balance and crashed hard into the ground. His neck crumpled underneath, as his body rolled over onto his back and he lay there, stunned.
 
Slewing himself over onto his stomach, he promptly retched up his recent meal in an undignified series of undulating neck movements and stomach heavings. Then he pushed himself up onto his legs and began the laborious process of shuffling his way back to his cave, even as another wave of crippling pain shot through his chest.
 
*****
 
Tim ran, tears streaming down his cheeks. All he could see was that small, exquisite Guardian, ripped and bleeding. Sobs tore from his throat, wheezing through his chest. Still he ran. His body guiding him, knowing the way, his heart and mind still on the mountainside grieving over the dying Guardian. It was all his fault. He never should have hired the Hunter. He should have warned that Guardian to stay far away. He never should have let it come near the Fallen. And what about the Fallen? He had seen the way Fal flew away, haphazardly, dangerously unbalanced, making for his cave. Was Fal injured? He might not be able to do anything for that small Guardian… at this thought, Tim sobbed harder, but he could and would help Fal. His legs moved faster, leaping over stones, roots and branches in his way, carrying him back around the base of Guardian Mountain, toward Fal’s cave.
 
He careened around the side of the cave, one hand catching hold of the rough stone edge, and all but fell into the opening. The cave was dark and silent. Regaining his balance, he took several steps in, allowing his eyes to adjust. There was no looming, deeper shadow within. No sound of rocks grating beneath huge claws. No bellows-like breath. Fal was not there. Where could he be?
 
Tim went back outside and stood looking frantically in one direction then another. He heard a crashing from the woods off to his right, as of a great creature moving unsteadily through the trees. Fal! Tim followed the sounds of cracking branches and pushed his way through a patch of scrub growth. There he found Fal. The great Guardian labored, one step at a time, breasting through the undergrowth. His tail dragged the ground, wings dangled unevenly off the sides of his back, his head hung down, jaws agape and tongue lolling. His breath moving in and out in gasping heaves.
 
“Fal!” Tim rushed to his side, “are you alright?”
 
Golden eyes rolled upward at Tim, then Fal took in a shuddering breath and collapsed against him, bearing both of them to the ground.
 
*****
 
“Fal! Get up Fal!”
 
Fal felt something pushing at him, something else being pulled from underneath him. He opened his eyes. Tim was beside him, no, mostly under him.
 
Unwilling to squash the boy just yet, Fal dragged himself into a sitting position. He was aware that his wings and tail sprawled inelegantly and he didn’t care. It was enough that he was upright.
 
“Fal, are you hurt?” Tim touched his side, running gentle hands over his back, wings and legs, looking for signs of injury. The tender hands felt good. Fal leaned into them. Not because he needed such attentions, but because the boy needed to feel useful.
 
“Why did you do it Fal?” The words whimpered out of the boy as if unwilling, and unwilling Fal’s mind was pulled back to the scene on the mountainside.
 
The question, Fal thought, was not why I did it, but why did I stop? Nausea threatened to consume him and he felt retching waves move up his neck. Dizziness caused his balance to waver, and he spread his forelegs wide to stabilize himself.
 
Such thoughts were better left alone.
 
Fal cast an eye over the boy. He saw a bedraggled and gangly younger, part-man, part-boy, all human. Dirt streaked his face in tracks down his cheeks beneath red-rimmed eyes. Curly, black hair stuck out in clumps, stuck here and there with twigs and bits of leaves. His tunic was rumpled and hung askew on his thin frame.
 
Fal felt his chest expand as if something inside filled a space suddenly grown too small. It hurt, the pressure building. On a gasping intake of breath, he realized he felt something for this boy, his boy. Unwilling to pursue that or any thought further, Fal turned his head away, lunged to his feet, and made his way to the beckoning womb of his cave, Tim trailing behind.