His chest heaved violently as he wiped the sweat of battle off his brow.  His opponent lay dead, though its precise whereabouts were covered by the thick mist, which gently settled upon the ground, concealing all.

            His attention was swiftly pulled to his fallen partner. He knelt beside her, and heard her short gasps as her supply of precious air lessened each second. His brows furrowed as he vainly tried to heal her wound. She had taken the worst of it, and the deeply gouged claw marks across her front were evidence of it. ‘Always the brave one, weren’t you.’ His mind calmly inquired. It seemed strange, as if his whole mind and soul were detached while his body persisted uselessly in healing the fallen warrior.  It was most likely the shock...after all,  all the times she had been injured, she had always been conscious, always uttering a string of obscenities rarely known to man. However, now her eyes were closed, and her cheeks paling rapidly. Yet he did not even have the comfort of seeing her face at peace..instead it was contorted in an expression of incredible pain.  His mind instantly snapped back when her eyes opened, silver rings and darkness, engulfing him as always.

She managed a tiny smile, no more than a ghost. She reached up and hesitantly  placed her hand upon his pendant of smooth stone, weathered by the waters of time. The healer’s mark; yet at the same time so much more. He had had it since he was young, he did not even remember how he had came upon it. The memories were blurred, the edges worn away. Yet a series of memories stood out, the first one being the clearest...

            The night was bright, and it seemed to almost mock him. His anger rolled off him in great destructive waves. Of course most of it was directed at himself. Today...today had been his first close experience with death. He remembered the dying man, and how he had vainly tried to heal him, yet his powers had not been great enough, his skills not tuned, and his hands shaking. But most of all, he remembered the sharp scent of blood, and bright splotches of it everywhere. And the Elders, they had done nothing, apart from murmuring softly amongst themselves. Not one of them had stood up and helped him, and he cursed them with all his might.  Afterwards he had washed his hands, over and over, and scrubbed them raw, yet he still felt the blood clinging stubbornly. He knew the blood of a dead man would stain his hands for the rest of his life. He had been new to the school, and after merely one moon cycle they had made him partake in the test. On a sudden whim he ripped the pendant from his neck and threw it as far as he could, expecting to hear a distant splash as it collided with the dark waters. Yet he heard not a sound, and almost jumped out of his skin when he saw a girl about his age emerge from the waters, his pendant in her hand.

            She smiled lazily, “Lost something?” He was about to run for it, when he saw the same pendant hanging from her neck. She must have been from the school. Yet from her eyes, which most resembled silver orbs, and her quicksilver hair, he gathered she was not his kind.  He held out his hand and the pendant was dropped into it, cool skin and cool stone; rejoicing at the others’ touch. He knew that a healer could never push away the offered gift,  ‘The Touch’, and knew his whim to be a foolish one.  Her eyes caught his own golden ones, and held them captive for an eternity of moments. At last she turned away and weaved her way towards the tall towers that was their school.

            Afterwards he had found out she was a Guardian, companion to a Healer. Yet for all his years he spent learning, that night was forgotten, and a deep resentment grew between them. Always sparring, always mocking. He had been greatly surprised when at the end of his tuition, he had been assigned this task, as all Healers do. Not only was it a requirement to pass the last test but also it played a key role in saving their Home. She had been assigned as his Guardian. He had questioned, pleaded, raged, and begged, in that order, for another. After all, a Healer and Guardian had to get along each other, and their relationship had to be forged of infinite trust, and none of these did he feel toward her, nor vice versa.  Yet the Elders had refused, and he had unwilingly set out. Pressure, like that of battles, caused an almost begrudging trust to grow, and as the  weeks passed, their loathing grew, crossing all boundaries, even that of love. 

            He remembered stolen kisses and bruised lips,  taken  after their countless sparrings with each other, as each sought to conquer the other, even upon this unusual battlefield. 

And I'd give up forever to touch you
Cause I know that you feel me somehow
You're the closest to heaven that I'll ever be
And I don't want to go home right now

            Yet it had grown after a time, and the loathing dissipitated, reserved only for the outside world, so none would find out of these inconcievably wrong emotions that they seemed to share. A mutual agreement passed between them, and they never talked of this newfound experience. Both knew that this fragile condition could never exist in this world. After all, it was unheard of that those of different races could ever do, much less feel, this way. And so they followed what many fools had taken as their mantra: What you don’t know (speak) of can’t hurt you, nor does it necessarily exist. It was easier this way, no thinking, just feeling. Neither had ever experienced anything close to this, and both secretly cherished the newly woven tapestry of inticately woven emotions.

            His attention was pulled out of his nostalgic thoughts as her hand gently roamed to find its place right above his heart. He was suddenly filled with a sudden yearning that he had never felt before. He wished that it could have been yesterday, or perhaps that today had never ocurred, he wished that this would not be over…

And all I can taste is this moment
And all I can breathe is your life
Cause sooner or later it's over
I just don't want to miss you tonight

            …yet he knew destruction and death were inevitable. He had learned a long time ago that death and destruction were vital parts to life, both went hand in hand with life and creation, neither  capable of survival without the other. He placed his hands above her own sluggish heart, attempting to speed it up, to regain its energy, and failing miserably. His lips opened of his own accord to inform of the sad news, yet her softly calloused fingers shushed him; She knew. An understanding such as never before passed between them, and both remorsefully wished for this moment never to end. He leaned in, and his lips softly brushed across her cheeks, a trace of feathery kisses. For the first time, they were not stealen, only given, and they bruised not, for not even the slightest mark was left in their wake.  He took in her scent, and all he could feel was her life slowly ebbing away.

And I don't want the world to see me
Cause I don't think that they'd understand
When everything's made to be broken
I just want you to know who I am

            He remembered how they had carefully tucked away their feelings, knowing others wouldn’t understand, wouldn’t approve.  Sometimes, in the dead of the night he would ponder while listening to her even breathing; How they would condemn them if they ever found out. He knew they would be punished, and both would fall greatly in the eyes of those dear to them.

And you can't fight the tears that ain't coming
Or the moment of truth in your lies
When everything feels like the movies
Yeah you bleed just to know you're alive

            The morning’s argument sharply imprinted itself on the back of his eyelids, cruelly replaying their harsh words. Though he loathed to admit it, it had been his fault. He had breached their agreement, he had spoken of the Unspokable. He remembered his jeering words, as he had asked her, „What after this? After our task? Where will you go? Where will this go?” She had refused to answer, yet he had persisted, until she had been unable to take it and had lunged at him, fists first. Both bruised and bloody, they had continued on, in a stony silence. She had always been the more secretive and naive of the two. He doubted that she had ever thought of the future, of what would happen when this journey was completed. At the beginning no doubt both had thought that safely locking it away in a cupboard would do, but the emotions had escalated until it was a tumultous mass of chaos. He could not help but wonder, although he knew that there was no other way, it would have to be stopped, it had to.

            He came back to harsh reality once more; saw fresh blood blossoming brightly from her wound, welling up in thick rich rivulets, as it squeezed past his fingers, desperately trying to staunch the flow. Blood. Such an interesting phenomenon. He had always been fascinated by it, and he recalled clearly, so had she. Perhaps now it seemed logical why they had always sparred physically, the winner the one who first drew blood. Always a dizzying experience for him, as he numbly gazed at blood oozing through the wound made by the winner of the fight. Whenever he had lost, it had seemed as if all his anger seemed to flow within his veins, especially concentrated on his particular battlewound. Strangely to say, he felt alive. The school had long beaten any feelings that could hinder work out of each of its students. Yet she had succeeded from the beginning to make him feel alive as no one ever had, even if it was through anger.

And I don't want the world to see me
Cause I don't think that they'd understand
When everything's made to be broken
I just want you to know who I am

Her eyes dimmed, and somewhere inside, unaware even by him, a light dimmed and was then extinguished violently. He stood, holding her in his arms as he strode through the rapidly dissolving mist to the cliff he knew must be ahead of him. He stood, and gazed across the vast waters. He knew what he must do, he had been trained in this as well. Why he could almost hear his tutor’s raspy voice echo across the silent hall, „Should a Guardian perish, The Saviour must leave him or her close to a water source. Remember what you have learned, they are born from the union of water and air, and so must be placed in those surroundings. Just as we are born of the union of blood,earth and fire.” Yet he could not bring himself to simply leave her here, atop the deserted cliff with the stars and moon her only light. Ironically, both had craved solitude, yet now he found himself depending upon her presence. He briefly wondered about casting himself into the sea. Simply letting the cool waters envelope him and let fate work its toll. However, he knew that he must finish his task, they all depended on him, he could not let them down.

And I don't want the world to see me
Cause I don't think that they'd understand
When everything's made to be broken
I just want you to know who I am
And I don't want the world to see me

            Uninvited, thoughts of her flooded his mind, as well as a multitude of „what ifs”. He saw the world uncondemning, almost friendly; her laughing, really laughing, something both had not done a long time. He saw her seeing him, as he really was, and immediately doubted that anything would have worked, even if she had been alive. If she saw…no, never. She would have never accepted him. She had only truly glimpsed him this morning, when even his contempt had been unguarded, and improvised, without any careful planning of words and impact. She had not reacted well. A voice inside questioned though, ’Had he not shown her his real side during all those years of hate?’ his logical voice quickly retorted with a negative, yet the small voice persisted, and the  logical voice was forced to pummel the small voice into the ground. Not even worrying whether multiple voices, one with violent tendencies and the other using third person to be precise, were a sane occurence; he gazed up at the sky, letting the wind bring momentary calm to him.

Cause I don't think that they'd understand
When everything's made to be broken
I just want you to know who I am

He was quite startled and speechless when a soothing hand fleetingly stroked his cheek, and as he peered down, he was once again met with silver pools of moonlight, powerful as always. A small smile, then-

I just want you to know who I am
I just want you to know who I am
I just want you to know who I am

“I always knew who you were...”

            And the light was rekindled.