It was so strange to her. They had arrived back in Bewar and it seemed the city was worse for the time spent apart. At least to Kismet it was. The Old Man had packed up to leave, he would be out of touch for quite some time and she could not contact him. She had always taken comfort in the knowledge that he was always there, though she would never admit it, and despite being tasked with finding Blade she was at least reassured that he would still be there. What awaited her at the temple after her searches, however, was the last thing she ever wished to see. She thought he was dead. He looked dead. She had rushed to his side, threatening the lives of everyone around if they did not save him. They did what they could, but it didn't seem to be enough. She held his hand, her lips pressed against his knuckles and her eyes closed. She whispered quietly to him, far too quiet for anyone else to hear as they all discussed him behind her.

“Brother of mine...please don't leave me. I cannot live in this world without you.”

It was hard for her to admit such a thing. Even to herself. She had tried so hard to guard herself, to not get close to anyone, to not end up as Parvin had. Yet here she was, angry and scared, afraid of being left without someone she loved. She heard everyone shuffle out of the room, every footstep was counted and the reassuring click of the door assured her that she was now alone. She moved closer, lifting Blade's head to rest in her lap as she curled around him. She sang a song she barely knew, a song she'd heard Parvin's mother sing so long ago. As she brushed the hair from Blade's eyes, watched him squirm in pain and his breathing jagged, she felt the sting of tears in her eyes and the tightness in her throat. She knew now how Parvin could be so angry with everything. She knew why people would do anything for love. Unused to such feelings she began to cry, very softly, almost as if she were afraid she might wake him. 

It was her fault. She felt that to her core. Had they returned sooner, had she not dawdled, he may have avoided such a situation. What if he was only in said situation because of her? Perhaps they were trying to get to her and he was a means to an end? If she had only been there... Her thoughts flashed angrily to the “holy assassin” she found herself grouped with. If it had not been for him, for his 'divine quest', she and her family would not be here now. The anger with Yuriel faded quickly as she remembered the words of the Old Man. This was destiny, he had seemed to claim. She had a part to play. She did not wish to play it. Her own life was something she was willing to risk, but Blade? Or the Old Man? Those were never acceptable. She sniffled a little, feeling quite young suddenly as she thought of the Old Man. Her mentor, and her father in spirit but not in blood.

“Papa...I wish you were here. I know not what to do. How do I save him? How do I fix this? I do not want to fight a holy war.” She glared up at the ceiling, holding Blade closer to her. “Do you hear me, Ormazd?! I do not want to fight your war! I don't want any part of it! I fight for you and my family dies! Where is your divine plan? Where is your divine protection?! All part of your will...why do you wish for ill things to happen then?! Parvin's husband and now Blade? We do as you wish, we follow that man around the desert for DAYS! And this is what we get...I want no part of it. No part at all...”

Digging in her bags she found a scrap of clean cloth and a water skin. Though she expected little to come of it, she poured the water upon the cloth and let it rest against his forhead. Feeling helpless wasn't something she was accustomed to, nor something she appreciated feeling. She was vaguely aware of people checking on her as time passed, but she hardly responded. Each person who entered the room was met with a vague threatening gaze and a hand on her dagger. She heard one of them muttering as he left something about how she was 'as a protective mother tiger'. Had she been any less worried she could have smirked at such a description. Instead she simply turned her gaze back to Blade. She had begun to doze a bit at some point, she hadn't realized she was asleep until she felt the crushing pain from her hand. Blade was awake, sort of. He was screaming in pain, his eyes wide open but unseeing. Her skin prickled with fear as she called for Khodadad and Nu-Mirri. She threatened them both, screaming for them to fix it. The back of her mind quietly reminded her that threats were not the way to fix the situation, but it was drowned out by wave after wave of fear. She saw them disappear as they were healing him and she let out a scream of frustration, nearly forgetting Kia was in the room. 

“Damn you, Ormazd! You will not take him from me!” 

(((Insert combat and Yuriel/Kismet fight here)))

With the monster vanquished and Khodadad's reassurances that Blade was, in fact, going to be alright,, Kismet felt the world tilt. She opened her mouth as if to say something, but the words would not come as the world began to darken. Vaguely aware of the ground rushing to meet her she wondered, in a rather disconnected manner, if she should be worried. She felt weightless and free as she lie in the darkness that enveloped her. She knew she was sleeping, and sleeping soundly at that, but something urged her to open her eyes. When she did she was standing atop the lighthouse with Blade as she had many times before. It was a dream, but she was still glad to see him in one piece. Wordlessly she moved to his side and they watched the waves rolling into port, the moon glistening off the water. She felt at ease, more at ease than she ever truly felt in reality. Her hand grasped his and she stepped a bit closer to him. Still they said nothing, just watching the ocean and standing side by side.

Waking up was almost a disappointment to her, but it managed to throw things into a  sharper focus. She didn't yet want to admit it, but she knew in her heart that she had to keep following Yuriel and his visions, or those peaceful days she longed for would never come to pass. She hated the idea of such a weight falling on her shoulders. She thought of the others, each in their own light, and each one of them seemed more of a hero than her. It was hard to comprehend how she could be one of His 'chosen'. A little thief, with no blood family and a fear of intimacy of any type, was one of the 'holy warriors'? It was laughable. There could be stranger she supposed. Another knock came at the door and an old priest entered, his beard hanging down past the cowl that was drawn over his face. Though her hand went to her dagger, she didn't draw it or threaten him as she had with the others. He felt familiar, he felt safe. He asked how Blade was and she answered, when he asked how she was, she had a strong feeling she knew who the hidden priest was. 

She wanted to rush to him, to cry on his shoulder and weep for the cruelty of life as Parvin had done as a child. She knew better, however, and she certainly was no child. Appearances must be kept, and she wasn't positive that it was him anyway. She answered his questions, careful not to say more than she would to a normal priest. As she watched him, she hoped her eyes would convey what she was afraid to say. What neither one of them would say for fear of this exact thing happening. If he saw it or not, she would not  know, but she felt better for trying. When he left she returned to her vigil over Blade, her hand holding his and once again her lips pressed to his fingers. 

“I...will do as you ask, Ormazd. I will not like it...but there is a debt to be paid now, and as they say. The enemy of my enemy is my friend. Please...watch over them both. I cannot...I do not know what I would do without them...”