The stranger remembered his name; Tyrael. He remembered his purpose; to help. He remembered why he fell; because of us. Humanity.

He had spoken little on the journey to Caldeum. Restless fingers had barely left El'druin alone. For hours he had stared, the gentle glow of it's light never dimmed, but it shone that little bit more when he touched it. Visenya found it hard to look away. She always found beauty in a sword. The way the hilt curved to the wielder's hand; the way the edge of a blade sang as it met the air; the way it shone, beneath the sun, beneath the moon. But there was something more to El'druin that caused her heart to beat a little faster.

There was something more about him.

'Almost there!' called the caravan's master. 'Pack up and prepare!'

Visenya started from the sharp, loud words. All the sound that had surrounded them was the gentle breaths of Leah as she slept against Visenya's shoulder and the occasional words from Tyrael. He hadn't slept the whole journey, she was sure.

'You should get some rest when we arrive,' said Visenya as she slipped on her gauntlets, flexing her fingers as they moulded against the steel. 'We have much ahead of us.'

'I shall sleep when it is necessary,' said Tyrael, sheathing El'druin. 'The days are not long enough on Sanctuary.'

'The eternal light of heaven is preferable?' asked Visenya, buckling her bracer with a sharp tug.

Tyrael chuckled, leaning forward on his elbows, watching the Crusader prepare. Leah stirred to Visenya's movements, but she sighed, burying her face back into her cloak.

'Having an eternal day would sometimes be welcome,' said Tyrael.

'I like night,' said Visenya, nudging Leah awake. 'It's peaceful. There is beauty to be found at night.'

Tyrael listened, pointing his fingers to a peak as he smiled. His eyes never wavered as she spoke; he never looked away, or to his feet like many often did when they spoke. He held her gaze; he listened to every word. Visenya found herself looking away instead.

'I suppose it is something I will get used to,' he said, glancing to Leah. 'And I must take some tips from Leah. It seems she can sleep anywhere.'

Visenya laughed, nudging Leah off her shoulder again. 'She has youth on her side.'

'You are still young, nephalem,' he said, just as the caravan stopped.

'Please. Visenya,' she said, clutching her shield.

'My apologies, nephalem.'

Visenya tried to hide her smile.

'Can you feel his presence?' said Tyrael. He walked by Visenya's side, his eyes wide as he took in the city. Leah hung a few steps behind them, stifling a yawn.

'I cannot quite tell if it's the claws of Belial, or the stench of human depravity.' Visenya rolled her shoulder, wincing at the stretch that pulled her taut muscles; she made a note to bathe tonight.

Tyrael laughed, catching Visenya's gaze. 'Ever the optimist.'

'People are so concerned with an external evil, they forget about the darkness within.' She pushed past a throng of people, loud and inebriated. The streets were growing narrower, she thought, but as she looked around, they were just busier. It was evening, and the whole city was alive. Visenya stepped closer to Tyrael as their pathway grew smaller; arms brushed together casually. She apologised at first, but he waved her words away and set a hand on her stiff shoulder.

'If I didn't already know better, I'd think you were the fallen angel,' he said with a smile. Gloved fingers squeezed her shoulder; Visenya visibly relaxed, sighing at the release of tension his touch gave.'My apologies - do I hurt you?' he asked, withdrawing his hand at once.

'Oh. No. No,' she said, missing the touch. 'Quite the opposite. I must have slept on it funny whilst travelling.'

'Or maybe when you fell on your shield back at Tristram?' said Leah, pushing in between them.

'What?' she said, bristling at her words. 'I did no such thing.'

'You did. Shoulder first, right to the ground. Shield broke your fall, unsuccessfully,' said Leah with a laugh. 'Anyway, I'm starving. Let's go eat.'

'We do need to gain our strength for tomorrow,' said Visenya, glancing to Tyrael.

'Or you know, we could just enjoy a meal for a change, rather than just view it as a necessity.' She looked between them both as she steered them towards a nearby tavern; throngs of people lingered by the doors, half full tankards in hand, a laugh on their lips. They parted to make way for the three; a whistle lingered behind the girls as they walked past. Visenya cast a glance behind them, flexing her gloved hand; their voices stilled.

'Remind me to take you with me every night,' said Leah.

'I have faith you can cope with creatures like those, Leah. I've seen you fight,' said Visenya as they stepped inside. A thick smell of ale, of sweat, of meat met their senses. Visenya breathed deeply; it was comforting. She travelled alone for months at a time, the only contact the nameless stragglers that walked the same path, the merchants that peddled their wares, or bandits that tried their luck; but luck was never on their side.

Tyrael walked close by her side, letting her take the lead. Leah pointed at a booth in the corner, isolated and quiet and told them both to wait for her there and that she would order.

'Order what?' asked Tyrael as Leah approached the bar.

Visenya laughed as she motioned for Tyrael to follow. 'What most taverns serve; meat, bread, veg and gravy. There is little variety among the common folk; I find it comforting.'

They settled into the booth, Visenya enjoying the soft padding against her back; the leather was ripped and exposed the thick wool beneath. But she didn't care. She removed her gloves slowly, flexing her fingers as they met their freedom. Tyrael watched her and copied her, slipping off his steel gauntlets, unscathed. Not even a scuff tarnished the metal; the candlelight catching the gold and silver detail etched into the metal. She reached out to pick up the one he had removed, but she held his armoured hand instead.

'I-' she began, touching the rivets, the etchings in the metal, so intricate and fine. 'How are they still so...pristine?'

'I may no longer be an angel, but I fell with some of my armour. It is not of Sanctuary - it can withstand almost anything,' he said, watching her long fingers slide across his gauntlet; he wished his hand was bare.

'Almost?' she asked, setting his hand back onto the table. Her fingers lingered as she spoke.

'El'druin could pierce it; and the claws of a prime evil. But not much else,' he said, watching her pull back her hand.

'It is beautiful,' she said.

Tyrael opened his mouth to speak, but said nothing. A heavy silence lingered, interrupted with the gentle clink of his gauntlet as he slid it off, setting it by Visenya's. Hers were littered with deep scars, and scuffs of metal upon metal; her life echoed on the steel, each blow she parried, each steel she blocked.

Leah returned with three jars of ale, and their food soon followed. The girl talked for them both; excitable, unsteady words, accompanied by her gesturing hands. Visenya knew she tried hard; too hard, to push along. It had barely been a week since Cain's death and she refused to stop, to slow down; to mourn. But she let her talk. Visenya saw the pain in her eyes, she saw the slight waver in her voice when Cain was mentioned, but who was she to decide how Leah could deal with death? Visenya had her way, and Leah another.

As Leah answered a question from Tyrael - if the city was as she had remembered - Visenya wondered if Tyrael had ever dealt with death, with the loss of those he loved, and how he coped. Do angels love, she thought, do they form bonds like we do? Do they feel pain? Visenya stared at the bottom of her glass, a thousand questions in her head, on her lips, desperate to speak. But where was her right to ask such questions? Tyrael walked among mortals, as one, but she wanted to know why.

A haze of tired words followed. Leah yawned, Visenya echoed.

'I'm going to bed,' said Leah, stretching as she rose from the booth, elongating her arms to a peak.

Visenya stood. 'Let me walk you back - there are many lecherous eyes and hands tonight,' she said, slipping back on her gauntlets. 'Will you return with us, Tyrael?'

'Soon. I'll stay a while; observe the city. Sleep eludes me still sometimes. I shall put myself to use.'

Visenya simply nodded. She did not smile; she found it hard to be false before him. 'You need sleep, Tyrael. Do not fight it,' she said, buckling her gauntlet.

'I know. Thank you, nephalem.'

'Please - Visenya,' she said, catching his gaze.

'Goodnight,' he paused, glancing to his hand, remembering her touch. 'Visenya.'

Visenya stretched, enjoying the pull of her muscles as she sat at the edge of her bed. Dawn had passed; she had slept well, longer than she had wished. Chastising herself, she began to dress, buckling her gambeson ready for her armour. A prickle of sweat already lingered on her skin, and she hadn't even begun the day; she longed for the cool air of the coast, the gentle lull of the sea, the salt spray on her fair skin. She chastised herself again; there was a time for longing, for memory, for wishing for what you did not have. That time was not now. Now she had to be strong, because before her sat the fate of Sanctuary.

She thought her path was set. She thought her steps were guided, never to waver. Visenya leaned forward on her elbows, running fingers through her hair. She was tired, exhausted. A weary sigh passed her lips as she stared at the canvas that was her floor. They had insisted she had a tent of her own. She fought with Cormac and Leah; their stubborn voices echoed in her head. 'You're our leader - the Nephalem - you deserve the space,' drawled Cormac, his thick set accent elongated his words. 'Eirena is happy to share with me,' said Leah, her big bright eyes gleaming as though she were doing Visenya a favour.

She could not fault the girl. Visenya was used to a solitary life. She had spent the last ten years alone, travelling the world with one purpose; her crusade. She had been alone; not lonely. Her crusade had been her comfort, it had been her friend, the guiding light of her life and what stirred the fire inside. But now, she felt like she had lost her way. The crusade had stepped aside, making way for her status as the Nephalem, and a part of her was happy.

She stood, stretched toward the peak of her tent and headed outside. Alcarnus was their destination today, and the camp were already wide awake. Lyndon nodded as she walked by. He was re-stringing his bow, slipping the thin hairs around the lip in the wood. Eirena was at his side, laughing with Leah as the girl fastened her satchel. Cormac polished his shield; hers sat gleaming by his side. She hadn't remembered asking him to help. A chorus of morning, of hello, even a salute followed her steps. It made her walk faster.

The peak of the tower was empty. Quietly, she slipped passed the morning throng of people and ascended the steps two at a time. She padded across the stone until she met the edge. Jutting stone, the edges broken with age rose to her chest. She leant forward, draping her arms over the ledge, enjoying the whip of the breeze against her skin. It was still warm, but welcome.

Below, the city bustled. People skipped through the streets, lined with merchants, with entertainers, with women peddling not just their wares, but themselves. It's barely noon, she thought, glancing at a woman wearing just a bustier and sheer skirt.

'I sense a discomfort in you.'

Visenya started, touching her breast to still her heart. She did not scare; she did not frighten. What is wrong with me, she cursed herself, silently. 'Hello still works,' she said, turning back to face the city.

'My apologies,' said Tyrael, joining her side. 'I did not mean to disturb you.'

She gave him a brief smile. 'There is much that disturbs me these days - but not you.'

'What troubles you?' he pressed, turning to face her.

Visenya pushed back her messy braid as she tried to voice an answer. She knew the discomfort in her heart, the trouble that kept her awake; but what were the right words? They lingered on her lips, silent, unspoken. 'I-' she started, but swore, turning away from Tyrael. 'My personal struggles are not important, Tyrael. Not at least until all of this is over.' She tried to speak with conviction, with the voice of a Crusader; but her words were weary.

He touched her shoulder, like he had last night. 'Do not push aside the woman just because the warrior is needed; one does not exist without the other.'

Visenya stared at his hand. 'Such wisdom. I thought you were the angel of justice,' she said, turning back to stare at the city.

Tyrael chuckled. 'I don't pretend to know how you feel, Visenya, but I am here for you, if you ever want to talk, or simply need me to listen.'

She tapped her fingers against the stone. 'Why?' she said at last.

'Why?' asked Tyrael, his brows tight with confusion. 'Isn't that what friends do?' His hand slid off her shoulder, fingertips glancing across her arm.

'Friends. Aren't I just a pawn in this, your battle?' she said, pushing herself off the wall.

'We all have sacrifices to make for reasons far beyond ourselves,' he said,touching the hilt of El'druin.

'What would you know of sacrifice?' she said with a bitter tongue.

Tyrael stayed quiet for a while. The voices below, of her comrades, of their camp, carried up with the breeze in an eerie accompaniment to their breathless silence. Visenya turned to leave, but the other halted her with a touch; warm fingers clutched her own.

Imperius stepped back, the tips of his red wings flitting up and down, in echo of a mortal's erratic heart. 'You put humanity before your brethren? Our laws forbid us to interfere with humanity. Yet you have done so, brazenly. You bring shame to me, to us; to yourself.'

'The only thing I am guilty of, is bringing justice to this world.,' said Tyrael.

The slew of heavens light danced between the angels as they met, steel on steel. Their wings whipped out, steadying their armoured bodies, gripping the gleaming pillars of heaven as they fought. A twang of metal sang through the air, a brittle note compared to the songs of heaven. They parted, with force. Tyrael stood, catching Imperius's fallen weapon, his wings wild.

'You cannot judge me. I am justice itself!'

Imperius stepped forward, mocking the tip of the blade.

'We were meant for more than this,' continued Tyrael. 'To protect the innocent - to protect humanity.'

Imperius took another step closer; Tyrael halted him as he pushed forward the blade and continued to speak. 'But if our precious laws bind you all to inaction... then I will no longer stand as your brother.'

Tyrael sank the blade into the floor, shattering the crystal path of heaven. Tyrael clutched his shoulders with armoured hands as his wings slid from his back, falling to heavens floor, the light extinguishing as he dropped to his knees. Heaven parted beneath him, the edges turning liquid, to molten light as he fell.

Tyrael let go of her hand; Visenya staggered, catching the ledge of the tower with a shaking hand.

'You chose to become one of us,' she breathed, staring at the angel; at the man.

'Humanity needed me, so I fell...willingly.' He stepped closer to Visenya, taking back her hand. She expected another vision; she breathed deeply, she breathed sharp, but it never came. 'Humanity needs us. If it means you need to take that step you didn't see, or didn't want to take - then that is how it must be. I chose to become mortal - and I would do it again.'

'Forgive me,' she breathed, feeling her words stick in her throat.

'There is nothing to forgive,' he said, squeezing her hand. 'I shouldn't keep you any longer, it's time to leave.'

'You're not coming?' she asked.

'I'm staying with Leah. She requested my help,' he said, letting their hold linger.

'Of course.,' she said, stepping away from him. 'Stay safe. And again, forgive me. I was out of line.'

'Your apology is not necessary, Visenya. You never asked for this - but you take it in your stride. You give me hope we can win this.'

She paused at the top of the steps, glancing back to Tyrael. She pushed aside her braid. 'I was going to say the same to you.'

And she left.