He was in her arms though she could not feel him against her metallic skin, and the hydraulics in her joints took his weight so easily that he was no heavier than a book or a pile of clothes. Evelyn Marthain could not physically feel but her emotions were still there, hot and cold flushes of panic taking hold of her. She adjusted his weight carefully, precisely, so as not to jostle the axe wound that had gouged out his stomach and drained him of his blood. She could not smell but she remembered the coppery scent of the red substance easily; it wasn’t something easily forgotten. But for all her care to be gentle, he still gasped and writhed in pain though his movements were weaker now as he bled out onto the ground.

Paultin Seppa was slowly dying in her arms, and she could not help him.

She had been too late. Her healing spells could only fix so much but such a fatal wound was out of her abilities and even if she had patched the skin over with one she knew Paultin had lost so much blood he would surely die anyway. She wanted to cry, wail, scream and sob, but she couldn’t. No tears would fall from her painted glass eyes, and she could not find it within her to yell, a haunting tightness in her chest and throat sealing it off as all she could do was take in the awful extent of the damage done.

Gore smeared the side of Paultin’s shirt and the sash about his waist, the blood running so thick and heavy that it was almost black and she dared not look into the gaping hole for fear of seeing her friend’s insides. Holding him with one strong arm, she fumbled at the clasp about her throat and pulled the stark white cloak from her shoulders and covered the mess from sight, fingers shaking the entire time with the memory of what it was physically like to feel panic. She’d knocked the wound slightly as she tugged the embroidered cloth around it but Paultin didn’t even seem to feel it, his blue eyes distant and lidded as he stared up at the sky. It was approaching dawn now, the inky blackness of the night bleeding away as the sun began to rise. Evelyn shook him gently, voice trembling, “Paultin? Paultin?”

Much to her relief, her voice seemed to drag him back and his gaze drifted to her. His mouth twitched awkwardly before managing to pull itself into a weak smile, “Evelyn.”

His voice was thick when he spoke, and his teeth were stained crimson, blood pooling at the corners of his lips before running down and disappearing beneath the neck of his shirt in thin streams. His breaths were more rasps than lungfuls of air and his chest rose and fell stiffly. He was pale, so, so pale, and Evelyn felt like he might shatter into a thousand pieces in her arms. Paultin’s words were quiet and fractured by a need to grab more air, but when Evelyn tried to hush him he ignored her, “It’s… it’s that bad, huh?”

If Evelyn had blood in her veins she knew it would have turned to ice. How could she tell him he was going to die? How could she possibly look him in the eye and tell him she couldn’t help, that it was too late?

“Paultin, I’m sorry, I’m so sorry-”

“It’s okay…” He croaked, interrupting her stumbling apologies, “It’s okay, Evelyn… I- I’ve avoided death long… enough, don’t you think?”

He was smiling at her and Evelyn became overwhelmed with the urge to punch him in the face, to scream at him to shut up and realise that this was serious, but her heart was breaking into a million pieces in her chest, “But we- there’s no one here to- what if we can’t find someone to bring you back? I- I-”

“Then that’s how it’ll have to be,” His smile was bittersweet and Evelyn could see the wetness of tears pooling in his eyes, “Hey… re- reach into my pocket. There’s… something I want you to have.”

Evelyn followed his instruction tentatively, wary not to jostle him, and withdrew a long, thin silver chain. She held it up between them and let it unfurl from her fingers to see the pendants that hung from it; a jet black raven’s feather and the sun symbol of Lathander. Her voice caught in her throat, “Paultin-”

“I didn’t know… I couldn’t find the- the right time. Please… you’ll look after it, r- right?” He gasped, wheezing as more blood slipped past his lips, and his gaze followed her as intently as he could manage as she used one hand to pull it over her head and let it fall around her neck.

“I promise,” She said, words feeling clumsy in her mouth, “I’ll always look after it, Paultin.”

Paultin’s face softened as he took the sight of her wearing the jewellery in and he relaxed a bit in her grasp, eyes wandering back up to the amber glow of the early morning sky. A few grey clouds had moved in, but the sunlight still shone through and over them both, glinting off Evelyn’s metal body, and turning Paultin’s blond hair to gold. Suddenly Paultin moved slightly under her as she knelt over him and she realised he was now holding her hand.

“…Lathander,” He murmured, eyes still fixed on the slowly approaching morning above, “I always liked when you… sang about him. Could you… sing now?”

Evelyn felt like her voice had been torn violently from her but she wasn’t going to deny Paultin this request as she took in the way his fingers had desperately intertwined with hers and she wished for nothing more than the feel the sensation of it. She brought their hands to her chest plate, pressing against the enamelled engraving of the symbol of the Morning Lord and found the will within her to sing for her dying friend.

“The raven offers sweet relief

Far from this lonesome way

But some may still have need of me

And for these I choose to stay.”

Her voice jittered and caught in places, and some notes were slightly off but she pushed through the need to wail and continued, knowing that if she’d still had her old body there would be tears streaming down her face. Paultin listened quietly as she sang, eyes tracing unseen shapes in the sky above, growing paler and his breaths coming slower with every line. His grip on her hand was beginning to falter but Evelyn held it more tightly for the both of them. The sunlight was now glimmering off the necklace he had given her as she leaned over him, the pendants hanging between them.

“Far unseen, I know

Daylight is waiting

Each night has an end

Sunset promises sunrise will come.”

She didn’t know what to expect once the final note had left her and died off but Paultin’s voice, as weak and small as it was, still made her jump in surprise and she had to strain to hear him.

“I want you- want you to know…” He coughed, hacking up a surge of scarlet that cut him off and started to choke him for a moment as he spat it out across his face, “I l-” His breaths were practically none existent and Evelyn knew deep down that this was the end once and for all. She let go of his hand to place her own against his cheek, soothing him though she knew there was nothing she could do to help.

“It’s okay, Paultin. It’s okay, shhhh, it’s going to be alright,” It was all a stream of lies and it made her chest ache to know it, but Paultin seemed to calm at the sound of her voice, the hand she had let go of coming up to grip at her wrist feebly as he sucked in a breath.

“I always… You have to know. I- I always…” The tears finally spilled from his eyes to mix with the blood on his face.

“What, Paultin? Always what?” Evelyn encouraged, wiping at his blood and tear streaked face, when she noticed that his fingers had slipped from her arm and his eyes were as glassy and lifeless as her own. The last of his breath hissed from his mouth and then he moved no more. It took a moment for what had happened to register in Evelyn’s mind, frozen in shock at the suddenness of it all, before desperation kicked in, “No… No, Paultin. Paultin! No, no, no.”

She grabbed him and shook him roughly, “Paultin. Paultin, please.” But her begging proved fruitless, Paultin’s eyes still misted over and his facial features slack. She cried out in frustration and tugged at the cloak she’d covered the wound with, blood soaked through it and darkening the embroidered sun so that it was a murky brown. She threw it from him and clamped her metal hand into the blood and open flesh, stumbling over her words as she cast a healing spell as a final resort, “The light of Lathander heal you and restore your- your strength in- in the glory of his love and his light and- and- please Paultin, don’t leave me!”

It didn’t work, as she knew it wouldn’t, but her mind was racing and maybe if she prayed hard enough Lathander would perform some miracle and bring Paultin back to her. She sat there, hunkered over his body with a hand in the gaping wound, until she ran out of holy words to say and the blood congealed thickly between her finger joints.

Lathander did not answer a single prayer.

She pulled Paultin’s lifeless body to her chest and held him close, smearing the blood on her hand all over his clothes. There was a moment of still and quiet as everything slotted into place in Evelyn’s mind and the sight of Paultin’s dead body in her arms and not being able to feel him physically in the embrace made her feel wildly furious. Rage burned deep within her as she clung to him. Paultin had left her and Lathander had left her too.

Evelyn finally screamed.