Author's Notes: In a nutshell, this will be an AU in which Dezel survives and Rose is actually allowed to be mad at him for his transgressions against her. With some eventual shipping shoehorned in because I'm trash. By my estimation this'll end up being about 70K (why am I doing this to myself).

Also, if you have a sensitive stomach, you probably don't wanna be eating while you read this particular chapter. Just a small warning.

Five long years of waiting. And now, it's time to make things right.

Dezel sprinted through the cobblestoned streets of Pendrago, Sorey and Rose right behind him. The night was still, yet foreboding. Even at this hour knights should have been patrolling the streets and taverns should have been lively with music, drinking, and gambling, but the streets were empty and all windows darkened.

He heard nothing but footfalls, theirs and Lunarre's, whom they pursued. The other seraphim had opted to remain inside Sorey, but Dezel was too jittery to tolerate just sitting around. He couldn't rest, not when she was here.

Her oppressive domain, unlike any other he'd felt before, sucked all vigour from the city; all was colourless and drab. It dulled his senses, even his wind senses. He could feel her influence, but he couldn't pinpoint her actual self.

Her voice came from nowhere. "You'd better hurry, girl, or you'll lose him. Surely you won't let him get away with such a vile betrayal?"

"Stop messing around and show yourself!" Dezel shouted.

"All in due time, good seraph, all in due time. This is only the opening act, after all. Relax."

"I'll relax when you're good and dead!"

She laughed, a shrill sound that make him want to puke. He'd have recognized her by the sound of her laugh alone.

Dezel, do you know whose voice that is? Lailah asked hesitantly.

Was she really that slow to catch on? "She's the one I've been after for so long, the one who murdered my friend!"

"Murdered your friend?" Rose caught up with him, keeping pace at his side. "Dezel, what's going on?"

"You'll see."

"Oh, well, thanks. That's very helpful of you."

He said nothing. Ever since she'd consented to the Squire's Pact he'd known that, sooner or later, she'd have to learn about his past. About his sins.

Everything was necessary, he reminded himself. He had to do anything it took to prevent that manipulator from ruining more lives, and more importantly, he had to avenge Lafarga. Using some human to achieve those ends was nothing.

For five years, he'd told himself that.

Up ahead, Lunarre turned to the church square. And when they reached it, there he stood, just before the steps. The majestic shrinechurch loomed over him, a black mass in the dark of night. He shook with silent laughter.

Walls enclosed the square. He had nowhere left to run.

"Lunarre!" Rose approached him, her face flush, lip curled, daggers clenched in her fists. She took a wide stance. The others materialized around them. "I don't know what's gotten into you, but—"

She suddenly cut off as Lunarre ... transformed. That was the only word for it. One moment he had his own shape, and the next instant, an entirely new one had taken his place. The others shielded their eyes, so he must have been emitting brilliant light.

The domain disappeared. Dezel assessed Lunarre's new shape—slight, female, loosely holding a baton, and—

Dezel balled his hands into fists. "You."

"Yes, me," she said, smiling serenely. She turned to Rose. "What splendid anger you've shown me, girl. If it should blossom into hatred ... oh, but how happy he will be."

"That's cool," Rose said. "What did you say your name was again?"

"Symonne. It's a pleasure."

"The only pleasure I'll have is when you're good and dead," Dezel growled.

Meeting her again, for the first time since that day, overwhelmed him with the memory. Of waking up in a haze, unable to see; discovering Lafarga's broken body lying on the street, while oblivious humans milled around; finding the splintered remains of the disgraced Windriders, forced to go into hiding or be killed.

And the blame lay squarely on the shoulders of the one who stood before him. She who smiled slightly, slouching, lazily twirling her baton, as if her crimes were frivolities.

Her flippancy boiled his rage over. "You turn my friends into hellions and drag the name of the Windriders through the mud?! I'll kill you!" He ignored Rose's cutting look.

"Dezel, wait!" Sorey grabbed his arm. "She isn't a hellion!"

"Like I give a damn!" He lunged free of Sorey's grip, but Rose cut in front of him, blocking his path.

She stood with arms akimbo, her eyes narrowed. "Wait. Dezel, what the hell is going on? What do you have to do with the Windriders?"

Symonne giggled. "Do you mean to say that the girl still doesn't know? Oh, splendid, how splendid! The perfect scene has been set." She clasped her hands together. "Dear, dear girl, let me fill you in."

"She doesn't need to know anything," Dezel quickly said, sidestepping out of Rose's path. "This is between you and me."

"Oh? And does the girl agree?"

"My name," she said, turning to Symonne, "is Rose. And if Dezel won't tell me, then—then yeah, I want you to."

Lailah touched her shoulder. "Rose, we need to be cautious about this. We can talk later, and—"

"I'm gonna hear what this all about right now, no matter who ends up telling me," Rose said, shrugging away from Lailah. "It's your choice whether it's gonna be you or not."

Silence.

Dezel stood utterly still.

Symonne spoke coolly and clearly, her voice carrying through the square. "In a desperate effort to preserve and continue the Windriders, who were his last concrete connection to—"

Dezel lashed out with his pendulum, but she nimbly dodged the strike.

"As I was saying. The Windriders were—" she dodged another "—his last concrete connection to—" and another "—his dead comrade—" and another "—and this seraph abused your remarkable resonance to—"

"Dammit, stop evading me and fight!"

"I'd appreciate it if you would stop so rudely interrupting me," she said. "I think this girl deserves to know the truth, don't you? Do you not feel any remorse for what you've done to her?"

Dezel sputtered, "You—you have no right to talk of remorse, you—"

"Dezel. Shut up."

Rose didn't even look at him as she said it. She kept her eyes trained on Symonne, her lips pressed into a slight frown. Dezel opened his mouth to speak, but found he couldn't force even one word out.

"You were saying?" Rose said.

Symonne examined her fingernails, a smirk playing about her lips. "Over the past five years, your dear wind seraph has abused your remarkable resonance to periodically commandeer your body whilst you were unconscious. Did you ever wonder how you adapted to the powers of the seraphim so quickly? It wasn't because of natural talent or ability, no," she said, finally meeting Rose's gaze. "It was because he used you."

Rose let out a short laugh. "You're kidding, right?" She turned to Dezel. "Tell me she's joking."

"R-Rose ..." He didn't know what to say.

"No joke," Symonne said. "And that's not even the end of it. He was the one who steered you and your comrades into the darkness, recreating the honourable Windriders into an assassins' guild. And, in his quest to kill me, he set his sights on the power of the armatus, using you over and over again as a vessel to enact his vengeance. It was all right, he thought. It was all to avenge his friend."

"That's right," Dezel snarled. "And to take my revenge on you, I'd do it all again in a heartbeat!" He lunged at Symonne, and this time, she didn't avoid the strike; she blocked it with her baton.

"I see how it is," she said. "If words won't make you remember—well, like I said. I'm flexible."

She transformed again, instantly filling the air with malevolence. Pustules covered the hellion's slimy body, and Dezel had to cover his mouth to keep from gagging at the putrid stench that wafted from her. How fitting that one such as her should be so fetid.

Lailah pinched her nose. "She turned into a hellion? Why?"

"More like, how?" Edna said.

"So you show your true colours at last," Dezel murmured, swinging a pendulum. He'd waited so long for this very moment.

Symonne pulsated, puffing herself up, then unleashed a surge of energy from her eye toward them. Everyone scattered.

"Lailah, we have to purify her!" Sorey said.

"Right!"

Like Dezel was gonna let that happen. But he'd let them think they could, for now.

Sorey armitized with Edna. He charged at Symonne from the side, avoiding her eye, but she swung one of her arm-like protrusions at him, forcing him back. In this state she certainly didn't look it, but she still had quick reflexes.

Dezel dashed around the square, then bombarded her back with the ends of his pendulums. With no way of protecting her rear, her only option was to clumsily shuffle her body around. But while she used her appendages to drag her body, she couldn't swipe at anyone. Their battle strategy would be simple, then: to barrage her from all sides, while avoiding her eye.

The others seemed to have reached the same conclusion. Sorey and Lailah attacked her from opposite sides, so no matter which direction she lumbered in, she was getting hit.

Dezel smiled. They all worked well together. He'd appreciated that, these past few months—fighting with people were actually competent.

"L-Luzrov Rulay!" Rose stammered, a few feet away.

She and Mikleo united, but only for a moment. Rose heaved, her hands on her knees, but when Mikleo approached her she swatted him away. "I'm fine. Go help the others."

"But—"

"I said I'm fine."

Mikleo nodded reluctantly and left. Rose stayed there, shoulders hunched, her entire body tensed as if waiting for a blow. Dezel smothered a pang of guilt. It's better this way, he told himself. Better to know than to live in darkness. Besides, he couldn't waste any thoughts on her right now.

He continued to strike the hellion with his pendulums. Maybe seraphic artes would have been more effective, but physically, violently attacking her felt better. Symonne was slowly, but surely, going down. After all this buildup, it almost seemed too easy.

"That the best you got?" Dezel shouted.

Symonne spoke calmly, despite her injuries. "Try to remember. How and why did you lose your friend? After killing a hellion, what happens to its malevolence? Are you really so sure you want this to be your vengeance?"

Of course he should have expected nothing but nonsense from her. "Shut up! I've had enough of your crap!"

"My, my, you really are lost, aren't you. It's quite pitiful, really. Though I do understand how you got this way—ignorance is bliss, and all."

"I said shut UP!" He whipped her with the wind, tearing a huge gash in her side. Thick, noxious pus oozed from it. Symonne flinched from the pain, but still made no cry.

Sorey, armitized with Lailah, said, "Lailah, let's get ready to purify her!"

Now. Dezel dispelled his physical form. He'd have to be quick about this, so Lailah would have no time to use her right as Prime Lord to restrain him.

Rose leaned against a nearby pillar, hugging herself. Dezel slipped into her, like a sword in its sheath. Her consciousness nudged his own, and he quickly suppressed it. "Dezel," she mumbled, closing her eyes.

He opened them. A familiar power flowed through Rose's body. No more worrying about morality; he couldn't tolerate anything that would weaken his resolve.

This is what I have to do.

"Wait, Dezel!" Sorey shouted.

Dezel was vaguely aware of the others being held up across the square—another of Symonne's tricks, no doubt. Pity for her that she hadn't caught him up in it, too.

With his and Rose's power combined, he forged a flurry of wind daggers, ready to slash her revolting flesh.

Symonne closed her eye, perhaps in anticipation of death. Dezel faced her head-on, utterly unafraid. He'd spent five years searching for her, five years of frustration, desperation, and grit. And now, that time was at an end.

Good riddance.

"Any final words?" he asked her, mockingly.

"Just a few," she said.

Her eye opened. And in its pupil, Lafarga's face.

"How—" Dizziness and nausea washed over Dezel, breaking his concentration. His daggers disappeared.

He fell to his knees.

Nothingness.

Visions materialized before him. Visions he saw, actually saw. The colours, the shapes, the movement—they momentarily overwhelmed him. He pressed his palms to his eyes, and tightly gripped his forelocks. Having his sight so suddenly restored to him should have been a euphoric occasion, but instead, he was overcome by dread.

"Windriders, out!"

Dezel raised his head. The Windriders marched towards Pendrago between fields of golden wheat dancing in the gentle breeze, with Brad and Rose at the helm. He remembered this day as his last happy, untainted memory of the Windriders. The day before everything went to hell.

With a jolt, he realized Lafarga stood right beside him. His mouth fell open.

Lafarga smiled, unaware of Dezel's inner turmoil, and beckoned him. "Come on, we don't want to fall behind." Lafarga was the shorter of the two of them, but with his hat on, they were of about the same height.

The vision shifted. Just before Pendrago Castle, surrounded by knights and Windriders alike, Prince Konan proposed to Rose. The beginning of the end. Rose smiled at Konan, twirling an auburn strand of hair between her fingers.

The same old feelings welled up within him—anger, despair, the barest resignation that the happiest time of his life was suddenly at its end. In only a few short days, he'd gone from a joyous life to a purposeless one. And he'd felt even worse at seeing how well Lafarga had taken it.

Another shift. Konan, burning with malevolence, ordered a squadron of knights away. Dezel recognized this, too, as the prelude to the worst memory of his life.

Rose approached Konan, her blue eyes wide and fearful. He gloatingly told her of Brad's capture. "That snake," Lafarga said. "What brought this on?"

"Don't you understand?" Symonne suddenly appeared beside them, and hatred surged in Dezel. "It's all because Prince Konan became a hellion, and at the urging of his hellion greed, he sought to eliminate all hindrances. And by now I imagine you've guessed what turned him into one, have you not?"

"Hm?" Lafarga looked at her with narrowed eyes.

She only smiled and inclined her head toward the scene before them, as if to say, Just watch.

Rose sunk to her knees, weeping for the loss of the man she'd always thought of as a father. Dezel wanted to tear his eyes away, but he couldn't. Konan watched her impassively, and Dezel's fingers itched with the desire to throttle the bastard.

Konan made an offer of leniency—just for her. Rose lifted her chin, glowering at him with utter contempt. He then crouched before her, a slimy smirk on his face, and swept a tear from her cheek. His hand lingered.

Rose placed her hands on his chest and pushed him, hard. He snarled at her as he fell. She scrambled to her feet, pulling her daggers from their sheaths.

Dezel froze. He knew he should do something—anything—but he could only watch slack-jawed as Konan, still on his back, amassed concentrated malevolence on the palm of his hand to throw at Rose.

Lafarga was the one to dive in front of her. He was the one who took the blow for her, just in time.

It should've been me.

Dezel knew what came next. Then, as Lafarga knelt had there, panting, badly hurt but not yet dying, Symonne had come and—

Rose lunged at Konan and stabbed him, right in the heart, killing him almost instantly. Her first murder.

Malevolence erupted from his corpse, and shot straight for the nearest living being: Rose.

Lafarga, his reflexes lightning-quick, dove in front of her again. The malevolence hit him directly in the chest, and he crumpled.

Dead.

Dezel's knees buckled. No. This can't ... this isn't what happened, it's all a lie, she—

"Behold!" Symonne said triumphantly. "This is the fruit of your blessing. Do you have any idea what people call those with this kind of power?"

No—

"Angels of death."

She cackled. It drowned out everything else, that screeching laughter, reverberated in his skull, crawled under his skin and tore him to shreds. He huddled, hyperventilating, burying his face in his hands. He remembered, now—her laughter, that's what he'd fixated on, willing himself to seal everything else from his mind.

Only later did he pick up the pieces. But by then, he didn't know the puzzle was yet incomplete.

Blackness, again. The black of blindness.

"Looks like someone finally remembers his past."

The hellion stabbed him with a tendril of malevolence. Pain flooded through him, and he no longer had the strength nor concentration to hold the bond between himself and Rose.

He suddenly lay face down, his nose pressed against the cold, dirty street. Rose was beside him, but not for long; the hellion swallowed her up.

But not him.

Rose ...

"Rose! Dezel!" Sorey's shouts echoed through the square.

"And now the real fun begins," Symonne said. "Shepherd. Pay close attention."

Someone raised Dezel by his armpits, flipping him over, pulling him away. Mikleo? Dezel struggled to shake him off—he wanted to fight too, to help save Rose—but he didn't even have the strength to free himself from the grip of some puny water seraph.

Mikleo lay him down gently. "Dezel, don't move. Got it?"

He wasn't ever one for following orders. As soon as Mikleo turned away, he strained to pull himself up. His body was aflame with pain, every nerve screaming at him to stop and rest, but he slowly, laboriously sat up.

"You mustn't!" Lailah shrieked, across the square. "Even if you purify the malevolence, she doesn't have the strength to handle the burden. If you do, Rose will surely—"

"But if we don't do anything, she'll become a hellion!" Mikleo said.

Edna shook her head. "Except her wounds will kill her even before that happens."

All my fault. All my fault.

"A Shepherd is faced with difficult choices sometimes, isn't that right?" Symonne said, pacing around them. "Better decide quickly, Shepherd. Your darling comedian doesn't have long."

Dezel couldn't let her die. He couldn't.

"Sorey!" he rasped. The exertion made him groan in pain, but no one heard him, since he was too far away. He spoke again, but this time he imbued his words with the wind, so that they carried to the others. "Everyone, get back for a moment. I have a plan."

"Didn't I tell you to take it easy?" Mikleo said.

"Just come. She doesn't have long," Dezel said, his speech punctuated with a cough. He didn't seem to have long, either.

Lailah cast a barrier between themselves and Symonne and her pet hellion. And Rose. It took enormous power and effort to do that, so it wouldn't last long. He'd have to explain quickly.

Symonne looked unruffled. "Oh, Shepherd, do quit your desperate flailing about. You risk making a mess of the grand stage I spent all this time preparing."

Dezel couldn't afford to pay her any attention, now. "Sorey, listen—" He flinched at a sudden pain that shot through his middle.

"Hey, don't push yourself," Sorey said gently, kneeling beside him.

"Just listen to me," he said through gritted teeth. "We have to ... sever the bond between Rose and the hellion."

"Even for the Shepherd, that would be nothing short of a miracle," Lailah said.

Why wouldn't they just listen? "Give me that gun you got from Zaveid. It can fire strength itself, right? Then I shall be that strength. I ... shall be your attack." He breathed raggedly, clutching his side.

Sorey's brow furrowed. "What do you mean?"

Edna, bless her, explained. "Even as he's absorbed into the hellion, he'll become an attack with a will of its own. He'll find the bond between Rose and the hellion, and sever it without hurting her body. At least, that's what I assume he means."

Dezel nodded.

"But that's just suicide!" Mikleo said.

I don't care, Dezel thought, and he smiled. "If I can summon up the last reserves of my strength and merge them with the power stored in that one remaining bullet ... then I can stay myself long enough to break the bond, while leaving Rose untouched."

None of them looked convinced.

Dezel sighed exasperatedly. "Sorey. Neither Rose nor I can afford to waste any more time. You understand that, don't you?"

Still, he hesitated. "There has to be another way. If we can just—"

Enough. The gun was still holstered at Sorey's hip. Dezel grabbed it, and before Sorey could swipe it back, aimed it at his head and pulled the trigger. He immediately dissipated.

"Dezel, no!"

Without physical form, nothing hurt anymore. A new power, even stronger than that of the armatus, coursed through Dezel's entire being.

For what would be the last time, he found refuge inside Sorey. I'm counting on you, he said. Don't mess this up!

Lailah's barrier shattered.

Sorey slowly stood, then turned to face the hellion.

"Lukeim Yurlin!"

They bonded. Sorey raised the gun and focused Dezel into it.

I have to save her. Then, and only then, am I allowed to—

Sorey pulled the trigger.

Dezel barrelled into the hellion. Malevolence muddled his senses and suffocated him, but he found Rose immediately: she was a shining beacon in the darkness.

With one quick slice, he severed the bond between her and the hellion.

Rose, I'm—

He winked out.

A moment later he awoke, lying on his back. Not dead, unless this was hell. Judging from the pain, it could very well be.

He heard voices nearby, those of his comrades. He reached out with the wind; the effort made him dizzy, but he needed to see.

Sorey, armitized with Mikleo, healed an unconscious Rose. Good—that meant she was alive. Hurt, but alive. At least I did something right.

Lailah and Edna stood to the side, talking quietly. He couldn't hear what they were saying, but he could feel the shapes of their words with the wind.

"... with Mikleo's healing, she should fully recover," Lailah said.

"Physically, at least." Edna propped her parasol up against her shoulder.

Lailah pursed her lips. Her eyes roved over the church square, and eventually, settled on Dezel. Her mouth fell open. "Dezel? Dezel!" She began to run over.

He wasn't in the mood to talk right now. He was barely holding on to consciousness, anyway. Letting go was a relief, one he didn't deserve.

Darkness overtook him.