I rose in and out of consciousness several times over the next few hours. I was never awake enough to have a conversation or catch more than snippets of the waking world, but I paid attention where I could. I saw the waterfall coming from the cliff overhead, and the tops of turrets and the palace's outer wall on the cliff's edge, as though it had come with us into the real world. I caught conversations from the others, most of them seemingly centred around Arthur. I heard words like "anemic" and "catatonic" several times. I felt cold droplets of rain begin to come down, filling the glade with chilling vapour.

Then I was awake for good, after night had fallen. I still felt a little dizzy, but the pain from my injuries had mostly gone, only leaving me with an itchy leg. I had been shifted to lay more comfortably on the grass, a little farther from the pond where I had emerged. It was still raining, but the others had pulled some tree branches down to make a shelter for a fire a little ways away. I could see Griffin, also back in their dragon form, laying nearby where most of the humans were huddled, but I didn't see Arthur anywhere.

I felt a pit open in my stomach. Oh, he didn't die, did he? Please tell me he's alive.

It took some remembering how this body worked to get all four legs underneath me, but then I heard a bubble of foreign thoughts rise in my mind and it suddenly felt natural again. A pang of regret went through me. The Fiend was still here. Why couldn't I have cut my own cord? If that choice had come back in front of me right then, I would have cut it in a heartbeat. Whatever the palace had done to me, it must have been an immensely powerful manipulation.

For that matter, why did I resign myself to death so easily? If Grace ever found out that I had just been willing to let myself die instead of fighting all the way back to her, she would be rightly horrified. I couldn't even put myself in that mindset again if I tried. The thought process felt so…alien to me now.

My legs were shaky, but I had the strength to walk over to the fire beside everyone else. I could now see that they were huddled around Arthur's body. He was human again, fully human, with no signs of any dragon features anywhere on his body. I feared that he was dead, but like his Fiend in the palace, his eyes were open and he was breathing, even though he was unresponsive. Emrys was taking a close look at his face and feeling his neck and chest, but by the speed he was examining Arthur, it seemed like he had already done this and was only doing it again to assuage someone.

That someone was probably Rosalie, who was giving me a truly baleful glare as I approached the fire. Beside her, Grace jumped to her feet, leaping over the flames to wrap her arms around my neck.

"Thank the saints," she said. "You're alive."

I let out a rumbling, confident growl. «Of course,» I said. «I was just injured was all.» I turned my eyes to Arthur. «But what about him?»

Emrys sighed, running his fingers through his hair. "He's in a state of shock," he said. "He came out of the Pool screaming, and then went completely catatonic, and has been like this since. He won't respond to anything. He's still breathing, but he's lost a lot of blood."

That part shocked me. «Lost blood?» I repeated. «How? He doesn't look injured.»

"You tell us," growled Rosalie.

"Not the time," Emrys hissed at her before taking a clarifying breath. "I don't know. It must be magic, because you're right. He hasn't been bleeding. Just losing blood. And by 'a lot', I mean…nearly all of it. I don't know how he's still alive in the first place. As soon as I realised he was almost bone dry, I gave him some tonic, but he seized up and almost died. I've never seen anything like this before."

"What happened to him?" asked Rosalie. "Griffin already told us everything they remember, but they said Arthur wasn't like this before they left. What happened?"

«I…severed his Fiend from him…» I said. I was terrified. Was it really my fault? Had I done something wrong by cutting that demon out of him? «He was about to give in to it. I could hear him. We had to fight to get him out of the cage he didn't want to leave, and then he talked to the Fiend instead of getting out. I didn't have a choice. I had to get it out of him.»

"So it was you," said Rosalie.

«How was I supposed to know this would happen!?» I shouted, my guilt boiling over into anger, both at Rosalie for her accusations and at myself for failing Arthur. «Would the alternative have been better? Would you have preferred for him to turn into a demon and just kill people and hoard treasure until someone put him down? At least now if he dies, he dies himself.»

Rosalie shot to her feet, her eyes full of fire. "Dies!? Dies!? Do you understand the finality of that? What is wrong with you? If he lost his mind, then we can help him get it back! If he messed up, we can help him fix his mistake! If he felt alone, we could all be there to help him see he isn't! But if he dies, he dies! That's it! He's gone! Forever!"

I felt the crests on my neck flex instinctively as I bared my teeth. «Please, none of you listen to her if I go insane,» I snarled. «What would you have done if we couldn't get him back at the cathedral? If he had killed my sister!? Do you think we'd be able to "fix" that mistake? Even if he did come back after that, do you think he would want to live that way?»

"All you're saying is 'imagine if things were worse!'" said Rosalie

«No, I'm saying that you can't see the reality right in front of your face! If Arthur gives in, a lot more than one person could die because of it!»

"Then that's a risk worth taking!"

«It absolutely is not! He wouldn't even want us to take it!»

"Of course he wouldn't! He hates it whenever anyone takes on any kind of burden for him, but that doesn't mean it's what's actually best! You'd know that if you ever talked to him!"

«I do! I'm his friend too!»

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Rosalie snorted. "I doubt that, now."

I took a sharp breath. That was just the right button to push to make me furious. «I'm also captain of this flight!» I roared.

"Then you're a shit captain!" Rosalie retorted.

"Enough!" shouted Grace, jumping to her feet and standing between the two of us. "That's enough screaming, both of you! Rosa, he's not dead yet, stop panicking about the worst case scenario until it gets here. Bel, calm down. If you want to be captain, you'd better get more used to people questioning you than this."

Rosalie glared at her for several moments before storming off towards the Pool. I sat down and stared into the fire, forcing the anger back down where it belonged. It was probably the Fiend again, making me shout at my friends. She didn't deserve it, not really. I understood how scary it was to see a loved one in such an awful state, or worse, dead. If it had been Grace on the ground, I could only imagine how angry I would be.

"Good," said Grace, and went back to her seat. "So. We can talk about things calmly."

"What more is there to discuss?" asked Ingo. "It seems simple to me. The Fiend took some crucial part of him with it. Like the wound left when you cut a vise beetle out of your arm."

The metaphor was lost on me, but I understood what he meant. «Maybe it's somehow present in our blood,» I said. «If the blood is what it took when it was cut out.»

"If that were true, it would be useful to know," said Emrys. "It may bring us closer to a…less risky cure." He glanced down at Arthur's pallid, unmoving face. "That said, I find it odd that removing the Fiend appears to have removed all of his draconic features with it. I wouldn't have thought it to be a necessary part of his condition."

Brand snorted, clearing her throat to speak. "We all have one," she said. "Makes sense losing it would kill the dragon in him."

"I suppose…" said Emrys. "Perhaps that is why dragon's blood is toxic. If the Fiend dwells within it, its influence might be pernicious enough to create that kind of danger."

Brand shrugged. "Maybe."

We all sat in silence for several minutes, listening to the rain. Distantly, I heard thunder rumble. It sounded a little strange to me in that moment, like there was a scream concealed beneath the sound. Judging by how Griffin's ears flicked forward, they must have heard it too, so I couldn't just chalk it up to stress.

«Did you hear that?» I asked.

"Hear what?" said Grace.

«I did,» confirmed Griffin. «It didn't sound good.»

"What didn't sound good?" said Grace.

«The thunder,» I clarified. «I could hear…. It sounded like…like there was a—»

I was interrupted as Arthur suddenly shot up with a loud gasp. Everyone jumped at the noise. He sat there barely moving like he was still unconscious, only now his breathing was uneven, and he was furiously blinking his eyes. Rosalie was suddenly at his side, helping to prop him up and hurriedly saying grateful prayers and asking him a tidal wave of questions.

He still didn't respond until his blinking slowed down. By then, his eyes had become wet with tears. "Why am I…" he whispered, feeling his face. "No…."

"Shh, shh, Arthur it's okay, you're okay," said Rosalie. "You're fine. You're normal again."

"No, no, no," he said through tears and oncoming sobs. "I'm not normal, I'm not normal at all. It's gone, I'm gone."

"Are you talking about the Fiend?" asked Rosalie. "It's good that it's gone, this way it can't hurt you."

"I can't hurt you…" said Arthur.

Rosalie seemed hesitant to agree with that twist on her own claim. "Y-yeah, you can't. That's good, right?"

"It's good," said Arthur. He wiped away some of the tears. "I'm going to die."

"What!?" said Rosalie. "No, no you're not, you're not going to die. See?" She held his arm up, her finger on his wrist as though she was trying to show him his pulse. Her confident façade faltered when, presumably, she felt nothing. "You're alive! You shouldn't be, but you are."

Arthur shook his head. "It can't last," he muttered. "It's okay. It's better this way, anyway."

"It—no, it isn't! What are you saying?" Rosalie started to cry too as she took Arthur's head in her hands and looked deep into his eyes, as though they would reflect an answer to her question.

Arthur smiled and put his hand on her shoulder. She flinched away. "You know that's true," he said. "I'm happy."

Rosalie stared at him, her face morphing between disbelief, sorrow, and rage. She glared at me. "He's like a completely different person," she mumbled. She turned back to him. "What damage did you take that made you this way? Please. Tell me."

"There's no damage," said Arthur. "I'm free now. That's what's changed. Free to give whatever I want to give."

"You sound like you're broken, not free," said Rosalie. "We won't let you die. We'll get whatever medicine you need, do whatever it takes…."

Arthur shook his head. "That's not a choice you get to make," he said. "I'm sorry. I wish that it could be easier for you. It'd be best if you started letting go now. That way it'll hurt less when the time comes."

Rosalie sat completely still. I saw her fist ball up at her side, and I really thought she was just going to punch Arthur and storm off again, but instead she pulled her knees tight to her chest and started crying ugly, painful tears.

Guilt had returned to me, coming in waves each time Arthur spoke. Rosalie was right. He was barely recognisable, and so resigned to death. What he said reminded me of how I'd felt on the altar after cutting his cord. I'd been so ready for the end to come, and it was because…because….

Gah! I should be able to remember! It was me up there. Or, it felt like it had been. If I could remember why I felt like that, maybe I could talk Arthur out of this weird pit he was stuck in. But I couldn't. All I knew was that the thought of dying had brought me some joy, a feeling I never should have had in the face of a nearly completely pointless death.

Arthur glanced between the rest of his, his expression horrifyingly tranquil. "I'm sorry to you all, too," he said. "For making you worry. That was cruel of me."

"It's not your fault you got put into shock, Arthur," said Grace. Her voice cracked as she spoke. I could feel her complicated emotions radiating through our bond. It was enough to make me want to cry too, if only I could. "You had no way of stopping that from happening."

"That's no excuse," he said. "Please. I'm sorry."

The apology hung in the air as another peal of thunder rang out. Eventually, I ended the silence, and said, «We accept your apology, even though it's unnecessary.»

Emrys sighed, letting his face fall into his hands. "Looks like we have a new problem to fix. And unlike the last one, I don't even know where to start here."

"Please don't fix anything," said Arthur. "I'm really okay. I promise. I can do this. I have to."

"You don't have to," said Rosalie. "Please don't say that, Arthur, please. I don't want to be here again. It's just like before, with the rot. Please."

Even Rosalie's desperate pleading couldn't wipe the eerie calm from his face. "I'm sorry again," he said. "There just isn't anything I can do. It's just how it is. I wish I could give you more peace with this. But there's only so much I can do. You have to be the one to accept things, I can't ever make you do it. I don't even want to make you do it. But if you really care, could you please try? For me? It would make this easier for all of us."

I frowned at the manipulative way he phrased that, but Rosalie just nodded. After that, I wasn't convinced that this new Fiend-free persona didn't have some kind of malicious motivation. I'd have to keep an eye on him in the coming days. Whatever had changed, it definitely wasn't good, no matter how much "he" tried to convince us otherwise.

Thunder rumbled once again, and this time, in the reflection of the pool, I saw the arcs of lightning streak across the sky, their glow as red as blood, and the wailing now loud enough that everyone seemed to hear it. Emrys bit his lip in nervousness as he looked out at the storm.

"That can't be good," he whispered.

«No,» I agreed. I got the feeling that it had to do with the vicar's ritual. His preparations must be nearing completion by now. It was almost time.

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