The Binds of Fate

[Cards of Fate]

It was a bright and sunny day in Raiaera. The birds were singing, the sun was shining, and the undead were being slightly less of a nuisance than usual. The road to Liderqualme had been cleared of beasts, and a trio of wagons rolled along the road undisturbed. Flanking each wagon was a pair of massive hounds, wolves green as moss, teeth sharp as daggers. Riding at the front of the small convoy was Vincent Cain, his indigo robes billowing softly in the wind, the sun gleaming in his golden hair. A smirk played across his lips, today was going to be a great day.

Behind him piles of iron, copper, and various other metals clinked noisily in each wagon. Normally such a treasure would have cost him an arm and a leg, but he just happened to own a few mines and refineries now. Joseph would chide him on his use of company resources for a Tarot project, and Vince would remind him how they’d made their money in the first place. As the train clinked and clanked along the road, Vince found himself growing more and more giddy.

Finally reaching the outskirts of the forest, Vincent dismounted and turned to greet several men emerging from the treeline. “Careful with the goods gentlemen! Not all of this is going straight to John’s forge, some of it needs to be in decent condition.” He chuckled and playfully punched one of the men in the arm.

“Where do you want us to put it when we get to the House sir?” one of the men asked chuckling.

“Set it in the workshop! You know, where lady Alyssa is always tinkering about?” Vincent stretched a bit. “Or actually…just stick it in the storageroom on the first floor. I’ll have it picked through and sorted later.” With that Vincent was off in a dead sprint, leaving a small breeze behind him.

Upon his first arrival to the Red Forest, several years ago, the scholar had begun to memorize the path from the outskirts to the clearing he called home. At first it had been a necessity, with the forest being filled with the most dangerous sorts of creatures known to the world. Then it had become a competition with himself, to see how much faster he could navigate the path each time. Now, it was just to show off. With his newfound speed and strength, Vincent could travel at blistering speeds. Something about doing so through difficult terrain seemed to be the most cathartic thing imaginable.

His footsteps slowed as he coasted into the verdant clearing he called home, letting out a sigh as he came to a stop. A storm of leaves erupted from the ground and danced around the scholar, before forming into a massive humanoid shape. It towered above the scholar and let out a rumble of rustling leaves before bowing and stepping aside. In front of the scholar, a slab of sheer white granite glowed slightly and began to shift ever so slightly, transforming from a flawless slab into a set of stairs descending into the darkness. The scholar stopped for a moment and took in a deep breath.

He was home.

He descended the steps with practiced familiarity, not fearing where he would set his feet or if he would stumble. Instead he found himself at the bottom, his vision adjusting to the dimly lit orbs above, his nose burning slightly from the slight amounts of dust the seemed to have permanently settled into the air. He did not feel buried as he stood so far beneath the ground.

He felt free.

This was his home; this was the home to his family. And he had someone he needed to see now more than ever, and he got the feeling she needed to see him. He calmly strode down the hallway, ignoring the first junction to turn right or left, and stayed the course until he had almost reached the large oaken double doors at the end. He paused for a moment, gathered his thoughts, and then turned to a door on his right.

Raising a gloved hand, the scholar bit his lip nervously before knocking thrice.

“Hey Ray? It’s Vince! You Free?

[Rayleigh]

The bed creaked, its old springs protesting despite her small figure. This was the only sound in the room, aside from the girl's own soft, uneven breaths. In a way, the heavy silence seemed to make her thoughts echo more loudly in her head, and they mingled with the tremendous thuds of her heart between her ears. An empty room. A quiet, empty room. Big, far bigger than the room over the garage she had occupied as a kid. Yet she still felt a bit like she was suffocating.

Leaning slightly, and inviting another great groan from the mattress, the brunette folded her legs beneath her. Then, carefully, she turned a small black box over and over again. Jade eyes remained on the object, but they were clouded, indicating that her mind was miles away. And the act of passing the object back and forth between her hands proved to be more absentminded than anything else. Rayleigh was not thinking about the box, though she had spent many hours doing so, and would likely spend many more. It was what the box stood for that remained with her. The mystery. The adventure. The demon.

The hell from which she had retrieved the box had not left her, and she doubted that it ever would. The way the life had left the dark elf as she had fallen to her knees, hands grasping blindly at the shard that had torn through her chest. The way the flames had sprung into being, pulled from the vision that she had concocted. And the way that a twisted god from some long-forgotten time had murmured within the depths her mind. He had continued killing, Ray had concluded, based on the reports she received from Alerar. Though the demon was often the butt of her jokes, especially where Vincent was concerned, the memory still tormented her dreams, and more often, haunted her waking hours as well. Now the guilt, like a steadily tightening noose around her neck, was just as smothering as the silence.

The trio of knocks, sharp and insistent, shattered the still the woman had formed for herself. Already tensed muscles grew tenser, and her hands closed instinctively around the box as she was drug away from the underground cavern. "Uh, yeah," the girl managed weakly, before gulping a few deep breaths to steady herself. "Hang on." Her mystery item was returned to its rightful place in her trunk, buried deep under the oversized green sweater that she had worn only once, and the yellow dress from Leona that she had never worn. Then, raking her fingers through her unruly mane of hair, and swiping at the threat of tears that always came with remembering, Ray cracked open the door.

"Vince." Of course. Lately, he had been the only one who visited her, what with Tobias' departure from the Tarot, and Alyssa's adventures that kept her otherwise engaged. That was not to suggest that she was disappointed to see the scholar, who now beamed down at her. He was her best friend, and he was always so happy. He was the positive force that the mechanic needed, and despite the darkness that still swirled within her mind, she managed a crooked smile. You owe him at least that much. "I'm free. Do you need something?"

[Cards of Fate]

The scholar beamed down at the mechanic and raised a large scroll clutched carefully in his gloved hands. The ends seemed slightly charred, but aside from slight damage everything seemed intact. Across the center, holding the whole thing together was a violet stand of silk with gold edging. He could tell something was eating at her by the way her smile seemed so forced. He didn't even need to guess at the issue either, after all, it had been his fault. Maybe not directly, he had not set a raging fire demon free, he'd just put her in the situation to do it. He had been the one who'd tasked her to check out the dig site, her scars were his fault. There was nothing that he could do to stop it now, but he knew he had to keep her mind off it.

“One a scale from one to ten, how familiar are you with Aleran schematics?” The scholar’s eyes twinkled slightly as he spoke. “Because holy crap you will not believe what I managed to get my hands on this time!” He decided to spare Ray the details of his escapade; he was especially not going to tell her he had raided a secret Aleran lab, or how he had nearly died several times.

With a practiced motion he removed the silk and let the scroll unroll towards the mechanic. A myriad of diagrams and lines lay before the mechanics eyes, detailing some incredibly large machine. Along several parts Vincent had neatly scrawled comments and notes about the possible functionality and purpose of the item. Finally at the bottom, in Vince’s own handwriting, was one word.

Engine.

“I figured you’d be the best person to ask about this! If this is what I think it is, we’re standing on the cusp of a technological revolution! These things completely altered the way anything worked back on Earth! This could be the key to flight! To underwater sea travel! To space! “ The scholar took a moment to calm himself down.

“Can you help me make a prototype?”

[Rayleigh]

Like the oil through her prized machines, the desire to tinker flowed eternally through Rayleigh's veins. "The mechanic's curse," her father had once told her, chomping on a cigarette, elbow-deep in a mangled, grease-slicked project. "Like a drug. You won't be able to say no." The man had been wrong about many, many things. But this, he had been right about. Curiosity seeped through the cocoon of doubt she had spun for herself, and though the negative emotions were not stripped away entirely, there was no hesitation when the brunette responded.

"Out of ten?" Ray answered, easing the scroll away from Vince. "Depends on who you ask. Eight, probably. Nine on a good day." But as her gaze swept across the scroll, her expression hardened. She lingered on a few specific elements, concluding with Vince's handwritten note at the bottom. "You're right about it being an engine," she confirmed through a small frown. "But I can't say for sure what it powers. It isn't like anything that I've seen before." Her eyes shrunk to emerald slits as she read the smaller font. "And it looks like it needs something else. What does that bit say? Enhancement?"

"Enchantment," Vincent corrected. The moment he noticed her eyes widen, and the anger that flashed within them, he spoke again. "But don't worry about that, Ray. I already have that figured out."

"Vince," she cautioned, voice low. "Enchantment sounds a lot like magic."

The boy's grin grew a bit sheepish. "It is." His gloved hands rose, palms outstretched in the universal symbol for calm down. "Like I said, I have it covered. You won't have to do a thing."

"That's not really what I'm worried about," she replied, slowly rolling up the scroll. "I don't like mixing machines and magic. You know that. You'll have to find someone else to finish the project for you."

This let some of the air out of the taller man's sails. "Well yeah, but it has been a while. I thought maybe you had changed your mind."

"I haven't."

Rayleigh offered the scholar the scroll, but he merely shook his head. "You're the only one I want working on it." The words struck Ray in a way she had not expected. Over her months with Tarot, the blonde had grown to be her best friend. She had come to depend on him for both guidance and moral support. Could it be true that he had come to depend on her as well? So the pair stood in silence for a moment, in the doorway of the girl's bedroom. Her gaze remained on the parchment in her hand, and his searched her expression for a change of heart. He was rewarded with a heavy sigh.

"I'll look at it. But I don't want any part in the magic stuff."

Vincent's grin returned, so strong and wide that it was as if it had never wavered. "Deal!" he countered excitedly, clapping the mousy woman on the shoulder. "Rayleigh and Vince, off on another adventure! It will be just like old times!"

This prompted the smile from his partner that Vince had been hoping for. "Yeah," she echoed. "Like old times."

[Cards of Fate]

After the blonde mechanic’s agreement Vince ushered her across the hall into the room they had set aside as a tinkering laboratory. With one hand wrapped around her shoulder, the other hand opened the door in a fluid motion. Practically sweeping the woman off her feet, Vince twirled into the lab and in the same motion sent several pieces of scrap careening from a worktable onto the ground. Disengaging from the mechanic, Vince blinked away in a flash of blue to the other side of the table and kicked the offending pieces of scrap into a corner, where the rest of the unused junk was piled up waiting to be cleaned up.

“Here!” Vince grunted tossing her the schematics. “Give that a glance and tell me what parts we’re gonna need to fine craft, and what I can outsource to John.” Vince paced around the empty room clearing things out of their way and pushing tables together. Roughly thirty feet by thirty feet, the tinkering lab was actually two residential rooms combined. Several long rectangular tables were randomly strewn about the room, with the occasional chair to sit at. In theory the lab was for any sort of handy work, be it sewing, leatherworking, or enchanting, but its close vicinity to the two mechanics had unofficially dubbed it the tinkering lab.

Whilst Rayleigh looked over the document, Vincent vanished once more into a cloud of blue sparks, this time leaving the room entirely. After several moments the mechanic looked up to find herself alone.

“Vince…?” she asked cocking her head to one side. “Where did you…”

Before she could finish a large circular portal of blue energy erupted into existence in the center of the room with a loud CRRRRACK. It stood menacingly for several minutes before several boxes were seemingly flung through, and landed with a loud metallic clank. After five or so very heavy chests, Vince strode through wiping sweat from his brow. With a snap he closed the portal and turned to the mechanic.

“Sorry ‘bout that, I needed to grab our materials!” He gestured wildly at the boxes. “Mined and refined by the RCC, gifted courtesy of some handsome motherfucker named…” The scholar pretended to check imaginary notes for a moment. “Me! Of course!” He cackled slightly and disappeared in a flash of sparks, appearing once more behind Rayleigh. Resting his head in between her shoulder and her neck the scholar glanced down at the paper before them, resting his hands on the table,

“Where do we start, doc?”

[Rayleigh]

Doc? The strange title left her only momentarily puzzled, before she shrugged it off, the way she did with most of Vince's unusual tendencies. For the longest time, he had paused to explain to her what strange meaning everything that he said or did had back on Earth. But as time had passed, she had eventually let these comments slip over her head, especially when she had more important matters to attend to. In that moment, she did.

"You're a handsome motherfucker with no concept of personal space," she grumbled, nose now only inches from the parchment as she studied it more closely. Despite her words, she did not move to put more space between herself and Vincent; just as she had become used to his Earthly references, she had grown comfortable being in close proximity. He was a bit of a hugger, after all, and she had learned quickly that he rarely took no for an answer. When she finally rounded on him, brow furrowed with thought, his breath on her neck was the last thing on her mind.

"Whatever it is," Ray continued, striding past the taller man to browse the raw materials, "it's not that big. We aren't talking about a ship."

"Damn," came his answer, and the brunette swore she heard true disappointment in his tone.

She offered him a small, encouraging smile. "But, good news is that I think I can figure it out. Materials was my main concern, and you seem to have that taken care of." Her fingertips gently kissed the cold steel of the first trunk, and she traced its shape with quiet appreciation. When she flipped the first heavy lid, and her wide eyes reflected the fortune that rest before her, quiet appreciation turned to less attractive gaping. "Gods, Vince, this would have cost me a fortune, and probably weeks of searching. How the hell did you manage that?"

"Magic. But you don't like magic, so I won't be quick to do it again." Her lips pursed, but only for the briefest moment. Her thoughts, and both hands, were buried deep within the pile of gears. Amused, and more than a bit satisfied by his jab, Vince was content to watch the mousy woman root through the parts, on her knees beside the large chest. Occasionally, she would pluck one from the pile with a soft ooh or ahh, grinning to herself, before setting it aside in a series of small piles. The sight comforted him somehow. The odds and ends bits of metal and copper meant nothing to him, but Rayleigh handled them with such knowledge and precision. Though he had many skills of his own, the scholar was not above appreciating someone who was good at her own craft.

And that was how she found him, when she turned back after nearly ten full minutes - watching her, with a faint, lopsided smile. Too engrossed in her own excitement, Rayleigh hardly noticed. "If the other trunks are like this," she announced, climbing to her feet, "we'll be set."

"So you'll build it for me?" he asked, one final time.

"I said I would, didn't I?" Her eyes danced, and her pale cheeks were flushed with excitement. "And I bet you won't find someone better."

Now Vincent's smile grew, matching hers in eagerness. When was the last time he had seen such life breathed into Rayleigh Aston? "That's for sure."

[Cards of Fate]

A project that would have taken an advanced team of Aleran mechanics a month, or maybe more, took a matter of two weeks of feverish working. Rayleigh had thrown herself at it with such fanatic zeal, it reminded Vincent of when he had locked himself in the Tarot library and read a lifetime’s worth of text in a matter of months. Not being good with his hands, Vince had come to help Ray in his own odd ways. He would occasionally tear her away from her work for a home cooked meal, or force her to go to bed while she was stuck waiting for John Cromwell to smith her parts. Some nights when she’d fallen asleep at her desk, he would carry her back to her room and tuck her in, as others had done for him when he’d been burning the midnight oil.

The end result of Vincent’s machinations had been a pump, more or less. As far as the mechanic could tell it simply sucked up fluid and piped it to…something. She wasn’t sure of the details, and Vince was being incredibly tightlipped to the machines actual purpose. When she wasn’t completely engrossed in her work, she was busy trying to see what Vincent was up to. A fair portion of the materials were designated for his half of the machine, an odd contraption that she’d only seen once when Vince was making sure it fit to where her part of the project met his. It only seemed to be a pipe of sorts, but all of the enchantments he’d scrawled on a series of rings that were wrapped around it meant that he could be up to anything.

It wasn’t like she didn’t trust Vincent, the young man was one of her closest friends and she knew he’d go to hell and back to help her with anything but…his silence was worrying. Normally he’d be bragging about all of the cool magic he was up to, or boasting about how important the task they were doing was. This time he seemed to keep to idle chatter, steering the conversation expertly away from his work whenever possible.

Finally the day when they’d completed their project had arrived.

Ray wiped some oil from her hands with an old rag and surveyed her work. The pump was nothing large, perhaps the size of a dresser. Instead of running on fuel, Vince had help the mechanic set it up so it ran on ambient magical energy in the air. In essence, this engine could run anywhere as long as there was enough Tap energy around. When turned on it would make a light humming sound as the gears whirred almost silently, a testament to the woman’s skill. Glancing around, the woman found that Vincent was missing. Normally he’d be within eyeshot, fiddling with some gears attempting to be busy while watching her work with some goofy grin on his face.

Instead he was missing…

A creaking behind her drew her attention, and she turned to find Vincent and John entering the room with a massive length of pipe on their shoulders. The twenty foot long tube had about five rings attatched at various points, each humming with an electric crackle as their enchantments hissed slightly.

“All done?” Vince asked cocking his head to the side. It was clear he already knew given that he had his half with him, but the mechanic humored him with a response.

“Yep! You have your pump!” A grin spread across her lips as she spoke. Vincent was visibly impressed, a rare phenomenon nowadays.

“Excelent!” He exclaimed grinning. “We just need to prep the machine for transport!” The Giant and the Scholar set the pipe down and turned to face each other for a moment, as if they were having a silent conversation. Without speaking John exited the room. Raising an eyebrow the mechanic turned to face her friend, determined to get an answer finally.

“So, what is this pumping exactly?” She asked, hands on her hips. She’d patiently waited for two weeks, she was not going to be denied this time. “Some sort of fuel for a larger machine?”

“It’s a secret.” Vince replied waggling his fingers mysteriously at her. “You’ll see when we get there…”

[Rayleigh]

"Vincent." If the use of his full name was not enough, her tone carried a warning of thinning patience. The smile fled her lips. "I have been working on this project for you for two weeks."

"Mhmm." He was not paying attention to her. Rather, he had turned to crouch over his new toy, fingertips delicately kissing the markings that he had left there. They glowed faintly beneath his touch, a trapped energy that never failed to make Rayleigh uncomfortable.

Her lips tightened into a thin, white line, disapproval tugging them down at the corners. Magic never did anything to improve her mood. Aside from the strong reservations that her father had instilled within her, the scholar's use of and obsession with magic had also grown a tad annoying. On more than one occasion, her best friend had neglected her for some new enchantment, or promising sorcery. This instance, it seemed, was no different.

Frustration mingled with already present exhaustion, and her emerald eyes grew darker. "Why won't you tell me?"

Still, he did not turn to her. "Because you don't need to know." Now, his hands busied themselves tightening cords and checking knots, securing the piece for transport. Her hands clenched into fists.

The intended tone, and the reason for his flippant response, were difficult to determine. Or, at least, they might have been if Rayleigh had bothered to try; it was difficult to see clearly through the fiery red haze his matter-of-fact dismissal had caused.

"Is that so?" she snarled, just under her breath. The words hissed past her lips like a curse, and with just as much spite. Like being brushed aside in favor of some new gadget, the mechanic had also grown accustomed to being left out of the loop. Before, it had hardly phased her - she was not a member of the "big three," and so decisions were left to those above her pay-grade. Yet now, given the circumstances, it stung her like salt in a wound.

There was an undeniable urge to confront Vincent there and then. He certainly had the size advantage, but the brunette suspected she could land a jab or two with surprise on her side. Or, if she was quick enough, she might be able to grab his neck and throttle him from behind.

She was imagining just that, and working out the mechanics of her attack in her mind, when the scholar finally turned back to her. "Ready to go?"

"No," came her answer, as sharp as the daggers in her eyes.

Vincent was not entirely oblivious to her foul mood. On the contrary, he was painfully aware of it. Every part of her, from speech to posture, was etched in stone, and cold as ice. He was not immune to the chill, and a heavy weight settled in the pit of his stomach. It will all be worth it, he reminded himself, plastering a grin across his face. Just a little longer.

"Too late," he replied cheerfully, his voice nearly sing-song with excitement. The temperature in the room seemed to fall further.

[Cards of Fate]

With a snap of his fingers, the scholar beckoned a surge of blue energy to ignite from thin air and crackle menacingly for a moment before it began to swirl rapidly. The result was a massive circle of teal, projecting the strange image of a tropical jungle. The mechanic had opened her mouth to voice another complaint, but ended up silenced in awe of the scholar’s display of power. Rayleigh didn’t even notice John coming back into the room with a massive dolly to move the pump.

“I swear to you, this will all make sense in a matter of minutes.” Vincent’s sapphire eyes locked with the mechanics. “Just…trust me.” His words felt hollow, given the inherent secrecy of the scholar’s entire life. The mechanic bit her lip and eyed the blue portal curiously. She assumed it meant that walking through this portal meant she’d end up wherever that image was, and she’d never been in a jungle before. Her curiosity got the better of her, and without a word she strode through the portal, still seething with rage at the scholar. Vincent and John followed suit, lugging the machine and pipe with them.

To step through the portal was a sensation Ray would never forget. It felt like every fiber of her being had been filled with raw, unimaginable energy. Goosebumps rose on her arms, while a tingle raced down her spine. Her whole body felt energized, as if the past two weeks of stress and fatigue had just…melted away. For a moment, just the act of stepping through the portal was sheer bliss. Then the wave of oppressive humidity hit her like a truck. While it wasn’t unbearably hot, the sheer amount of moisture in the air was torturous. Sweat began to form in beads in a matter of moments, and she turned to find Vince and John standing a few steps behind her, the portal nowhere to be seen.

“Dehethain.” Vince said without waiting for the mechanic to ask the question on her tongue. “The southern tip to be precise.” He gestured with one arm while the other clutched the massive pipe in his armpit, “This way Ms. Ashton, I will now show you what we’re here for.” He adopted some strange tone to his voice, a mix between giddiness and a bit of showmanship rang through his voice.

Rolling her eyes the mechanic followed suit.

They walked for several minutes in silence stopping every now and again to wait for John to dislodge the dolly from some mud, or to take it over an errant tree root. It appeared they were on some form of road as far as the mechanic could tell. The vegetation had been parted to form a dirt path about five feet across, and was relatively smooth. Traces of loose gravel at various points seemed to hint at their path once being paved with some form of stone or other, but it was hard to tell. After what felt like forever due to the oppressive aura of the jungle, the trio turned to find themselves standing in front of a massive body of water. At first the mechanic was taken aback by its sheer beauty, until she noticed something strange. The vegetation stopped within twenty feet of the beautiful water, leaving an ugly scar of rotting and brown plant life. The shore itself was littered with a rainbow of hundreds of fish carcasses, all in various states of decomposition.

“The Lake of Life…” Vince hissed, breaking the silence. “That’s what the natives used to call this place. The local Dracari used to flock here for water and food, building an entire way of life around fishing these once bountiful waters.” They continued along the path until they reached a fork, and Vincent gestured for them to turn left, taking a spiraling path that led towards the water.

“I’ve still got no fucking clue what caused it to turn toxic.” Vince continued, monologging to fill the silence. “But the Dracari are dying off in droves due to lack of resources. They have had to turn to other sources of water, some of which are toxic rivers that flow from here. Every day more and more of them die of thirst, or starve because they can’t find enough food.” He turned and locked eyes with the mechanic.

“This pump is going to purify water for them. In a month or so I have an expedition from Beinost arriving with supplies to build a pipeline out here. We’ll be able to pump water to the individual tribes, we’ll be able to build an irrigation system out here that would put Alerar to shame.” He paused for a moment and let it all sink in.

“Your work will end up saving hundreds, if not thousands of lives.”

[Rayleigh]

The young woman's mouth opened and closed, akin to one of the dying fish in the toxic sludge. There were words, too many words, swarming about in her head, but she could not make them leave her lips. She could not form a sentence. She could not find her voice.

Silently, Vincent observed Rayleigh's reaction. He had suspected that she might be surprised, and she certainly appeared to be so. At first, the scholar was somewhat amused by the display. He wore a smug expression, and mentally patted himself on the back for a job well-done. It had been a Herculean task, keeping the whole thing from his best friend. She was nosy, and never seemed to cease her incessant questioning. He had known what the machine was all along, and the urge to just tell her had nearly overwhelmed him on more than one occasion. But he had been successful in his mission, and the fruits of his labor were oh so sweet.

Yet as he continued to watch, his smirk slowly faded. The light that had set his blue eyes dancing dimmed. There was something wrong. There was no excitement, or wonder, or laughter. He had half expected an angry outburst, flailing fists, and shouts of annoyance, but there was none of those either. Instead, Rayleigh merely stood, her eyes forward, her mouth moving wordlessly. His hand, which had been clenched in a fist of anticipation at his side, reached for her.

"Ray," he murmured, in a voice meant only for her. She would not need to turn, and see his expression; the man's concern was plain in his tone.

She did not look at him. "Yes?" The word came on a soft exhale, more like a whisper of the wind through the leaves.

"Are you okay?" Only then did she turn, revealing red-rimmed eyes, and a smile that did not come close to reaching them. Vincent had expected tears, or at least, some part of him had. But not like this. And not accompanied by a crooked, forced smile. She said nothing - he did not give her time to. The man, master of magic, and Emperor of the Tarot Hierarchy, could only croak the first words that came to mind. "What did I do?"

The brunette shook her head, using the hurried motion to swipe at a tear that came loose. "Nothing," she assured him. "This isn't because of you. This is just..." her voice trailed, and the two stood in silence for a brief moment that felt to Vincent like a lifetime. When she finally spoke, it was a mere whisper. "Can I have a second?"

"Of course," her companion replied weakly, helplessness tying his stomach in knots as he watched her move a short distance off. So lost in his thoughts, Vincent hardly noticed John moving up alongside him.

"What happened?" The giant's voice was a low, rumbling bass, deep in his chest.

Numbly, Vincent shook his head. "I fucked up."

John frowned. "How?"

"I don't know."

Vincent raked a hand through his shaggy hair, and went to speak again, before a heavy hand found his shoulder. John gave it a squeeze. "Go find out," he urged, the reassuring pat turning into a gentle shove forward.

Obediently, and without any other choice, Vincent followed after her.