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James woke as violently as a nightmare. Bolting upright, he fought against the vertigo of his unceremonious slumber. As his eyes adjusted, a lush forest came into focus. Sunlight poured blissfully through casual openings in the scattered cedars. Gentle breezes carried chills with them, suggesting they bore Winter close behind. 'A different forest' he mouthed, only vaguely aware he was the last to rise.

Some distance away, Harman was perched at the edge of a small brook, thrashing at the stones and water in his usual frustration. On occasion, a streak of green light escaped his wrath, but James could descry no order or pattern.

God, his head hurt!

And his chest. He imagined he could have been thrown from a bus. Scanning the area, he found Dart propped against the vast trunk of a toppled cedar. The loose shirt he once bore under his hood had been removed, exposing his waning health. A murky strip of fabric had been fashioned as a crude bandage over the right side of his chest. Vaguely slumped away from his injury, he was haggard as a corpse. James would have believed him dead if not for the subtle movement of his shallow breaths. While James could not determine the depth of Dart's injuries, it was obvious he suffered severely. Regaining his strength, James chanced to balance on his own two feet.

As he rose, the heavy amulet of his glamour swung awkwardly into his chest. He paused for a moment to inspect the trinket, shocked to discover the once delicate ornament had been transformed into a hobbled chunk of disfigured metal. Links in the chain had melted and reformed, giving it only a fraction of its expected fluid motion. Removing the useless mess from his neck, he discovered that the Bijou was missing - no, destroyed! A few vague shards of sapphire remained amidst the fine powder, a memory of the power it once held.

Unsteadily, he made his way towards Dart - he could not imagine knowing how to comfort someone he hardly knew, let alone after such a devastating blow. Still, he needed the company; but Dart gave no recognition or notice of his presence. He attempted to start a conversation, but his throat closed on the words. The heavy plodding of padded feet interrupted his attempt all the same as Harman stamped towards him.

Preparing to face the inevitable verbal assault, James was taken off-guard by a strike square in the jaw; a flurry of imprecise, furred fists blocked his view. Not yet stable enough to resist the blows, James tumbled to his knees while the Lapin's frustrations multiplied.

"What the hell?"

At once, James called fire to his aid. Blue tendrils of light enveloped his arms to absorb the remainder of the assault. Shouting curses in a language he could not understand, Harman eventually relented. "You imbecile!" Harman screamed, "Your decision-making is an assault on intelligence itself!" He pounded his feet into the ground, stirring up pockets of dust. "Your exertion of power has destroyed everything!"

But the fire James summoned did not retreat. It had been too much! It was clear any semblance of a plan had been lost. Marching towards Harman, he grabbed him by the collar and drew him to his face. "I'm not the idiot that came up with this entire scheme! I didn't summon someone with no knowledge of this world and expect them to just magically solve all his problems! What the hell kind of plan is that anyway?"

Harman stammered as he attempted to reply, startled from his irritation. "Th-the gods of legend were told to be s-subservient to a masterful summoner. They w-wielded powers beyond our comprehension to -"

"Is my anger beyond your comprehension? Did you see what happened in there? They're fucking dead! The one guy said your bird friend was like a son to him! Doesn't that mean anything to you?" He was not even close to done. Though he hated violence, he craved retribution.

"Did you think I've just been sitting on a cloud in paradise this whole time enjoying life? I'm just a person with my own problems, and you took me from my life! I'm as mortal as anyone else around here; what makes me a god, anyway? Aren't you supposed to worship gods?" He had too many questions, but they would have to wait. "So now you're gonna start figuring out a way to send me back, unless you want to end up looking like him yourself!"

Harman continued, "B-but the king must be stopped."

"Why would I even care?" he roared, gesturing around the forest. "This isn't my problem! Is there even a king to kill, and if there is, how are you not the villain here?"

Erupting further, his anger pushed his expression of power to a new height. The heat he generated began to curl the ends of furs around where he held the Lapin. "Also your friend is dying, and you'd rather take time to start a fight with me instead of, I don't know, trying to heal him? Have you ever thought for a god-damn second that YOU might be to blame for this shit show? What the hell gives you the right to treat everyone around you like they're your personal slaves?" Still, he was not done. Cerulean waves of heat enveloped him, but he could not be bothered to notice.

Harman squirmed in his grasp, but was unable to free himself from the painful heat. "I CAN'T! IT HAS BEEN DAMAGED!"

The corner of James' mind lit up to the word; 'damaged'. But he was too busy to process the thought. "I'm sick of your shit! I've played along with your stupid games for long enough! I'm taking over now, and you'd better believe I won't hesitate to end you if you cross me." James had been furious, but even he recognized he was losing control.

Only intending to shove, James hurled the rabbit back at the brook like a pile of rags; Harman landed with a skid near the water's edge, dragging up dirt and debris as he tore along the ground. Even if he had the breath to form a response, he was given no time - James was again upon him. Like a frightened child, Harman grabbed his nearby staff and held it out in both paws as if to ward himself, but he was unable to exert any power. Paltry bolts of green static tore off in odd directions as if fleeing their prison.

While at first glance it appeared to have suffered no significant damage, James vaguely noticed the once pristine gem had be fractured.

But James laughed at the display; why should he care? Harman had obviously not suffered enough. Grasping the staff, he ripped it from the Lapin's grip. He had intended to break the arcane wood. But before he could muster strength to make the attempt, his hands transformed into fires of venom and vitriol; in his surprise he dropped it. Turning his rage back to Harman, he meant to finish what he started.

But he could not.

Beneath him lay a shivering mass of fur openly weeping.

'Like father, like son.'

The sight appalled him; immediately his fire dissipated. Falling to his knees, James could not believe he let his anger get so out of control.

Looking between the two creatures, James sighed. He had never intended this outcome - though he had occasionally lost his temper, he had never been so violent. Perhaps Harman deserved it, but he was nonetheless ashamed he had lost control.

He needed to get home, but it wasn't going to happen by wandering through the woods alone. If what Harman said was true, he was going to need at least some help getting back. He reached out to grasp Harman's shoulder, but the Lapin flinched away from him. He would be unreachable in his current state.

Turning his attention instead to Dart, James' heart sank; though he did not know the Avis well, he was able to sympathize with his plight. As he approached he leaned in and inspected the wound, trying to gauge his health as best he could - but he was not a doctor; he was only familiar with the first aid class work had required him to complete.

When Harman's pitiful sobs fell to a soft whimper, he attempted to move their plight along; standing here would bring him no closer to his freedom. "Is there anything we can do for him? He doesn't look too good."

Through soft sniveling, the Lapin stood and slowly retrieved his damaged heirloom. "For the time being, there is nothing. Jhartool used poisoned weapons; I gather he despises life. But I am unable to identify the poison used. It is imperative we source a healer should we wish to ensure his survival."

They needed to get moving, but Dart was clearly unable to travel under his own power. Before he could question their options, Harman trudged over to Dart and slid his paws under his arms gingerly. Struggling to bring him to his feet, Harman squeezed soft moans and whimpers from the Avis.

For the first time, James had seen him completely helpless - it was too familiar. Dart was utterly broken in both body and spirit. The makeshift bandage on his chest was crusted with old blood, black rot, and pus, shouting threats of death to anyone close enough to witness. On his feet, his whole body lolled and swayed like a blade of grass. James could not understand the depths of his physical hurts.

But Dart's expression he knew intimately.

It was disappointment and scorn and betrayal.

It was the loss of one's most precious treasure.

It was the same face he offered the paramedics who freed his father from the ceiling. He was too familiar with wrath and despair.

But he also knew his remorse would give him no greater strength or purpose. "So where are we now, and where can we get help? I'm obviously not getting back to my own world just standing here watching him die too." He meant, 'I don't know what to do now.'

Harman nodded softly. "I gauge we are some score-score kilometers distant from the Haven." He began cautiously. "We appear to have arrived in the far north of Springsguard - Skurren territories. With any luck, we may find aid in them. For the time being, it would be wise to follow this creek for a time in hope it will lead us to help."

Without a further word, James approached the barely-conscious Avis and slipped an arm under his undamaged shoulder. With Harman's help, he hoisted Dart onto his back and gripped at his thighs - he was far lighter than expected. Taking care to fold his wings, Harman hung Dart's arms over him to provide better stability. Dart grunted occasionally at the movements, but otherwise did not acknowledge the change.

"Not like this, Dart" James whispered over his shoulder. "Don't you dare." He was carrying a stranger in a strange land, but he could not bear to see him waste away as he once did himself; nobody deserved that. Adjusting himself to the new weight, he nodded hesitantly to the Lapin. "I guess we should get going then. But you still owe me answers."

Without further exchange, the company began their hike.

~~~~~~~~~~

Some time had passed while the company marched through serene forest, uninterrupted except for the startling of nearby wildlife. Though Dart's weight was far less than he had anticipated, James was slowed. At infrequent intervals the party rested and took time to drink the brook's fresh water, but they had no food. Harman had taken time during one such rest to shape a crude bowl from stripped bark. He had intended to provide water for Dart, but each attempt found Avis either refusing to swallow or he was unaware he was meant to.

As they pushed forward, infrequent conversation made it clear that Harman had no concrete knowledge of gods, only that supposed ancient texts described miracles a god might perform and hinted at powers they held. Vaguely he recalled images of Sunday services with his mother, but the examples Harman gave seemed largely embellished. Narrowing out the truth may be more difficult than asking simple questions.

As the sun crept across the sky, the flesh beneath Dart's feathers grew pallor, almost ethereal. Though Harman had done his best to disguise his concern, the panic of failure began to creep into his features. Dart was no longer able to keep himself upright; lacking the strength or will, he forced the party to a halt.

"He will be lost!" Harman lamented. He helped James prop Dart up against a wide tree. The wound in his shoulder was festering; in his current state, he may never fly again. Passing in and out of consciousness, he was unable to make his needs known through the delirium. Harman caressed his cheek softly and pleaded with him, "Please stay with me, friend. I need you to keep trying."

James stood anxiously for a moment, watching the first tender scene Harman had displayed. As he pondered possible outcomes he could only arrive at one conclusion.

When he was certain Harman had drawn his comfort to a close, he approached and firmly rested his hand on the Lapin's shoulder. "Look, I still don't forgive you for dragging me into this mess - and I don't know if I ever will." Harman flinched, as if expecting another attack. "But we're here now and dwelling on the past won't help anyone. If you can manage to be less of an asshole like what I just saw there, maybe there's some way we can work together."

Harman appeared to consider his offer, but he said nothing.

"Right now, though, it looks like he might not make it," he confessed, nodding in Dart's direction. "I'll stay here with him and try to keep him conscious. Maybe I can get him to drink something if I keep trying. But you'll need to go on and find help. I don't know my way around here, and I can't navigate my way back even if I find help."

Harman cast a glance between his two companions, silently weighing options. When he had made his decision, he began with a sigh, "It is sooth, he will survive no further venture; ere long he may pass altogether." He looked as though he had more to say, but be kept it to himself.

Without warning, the Lapin began to shed his outermost clothing, freeing up his movements; little care was taken to preserve seams or buttons in his haste. "I shall continue a ways along the brook," he pointed down along the waterway, "this direction is north-east, so you may be aware." He tossed the garments in a rough pile next to Dart, setting the damaged staff on top of it all.

Without further hesitation, Harman turned and sprinted in the direction he indicated - by god he was fast!

Left now to his own tasks, James set about trying to keep Dart alive while he waited. Stumbling through his limited knowledge, he vaguely remembered that bandages needed to be changed frequently to prevent lethal infection. 'A little late to prevent infection' he mused; later would be better than never.

But he was also keenly aware of his own lacking - he could not hope to clean or care for the wound, but at very least fresh cloth could do no serious harm. 'Just like changing a Band-Aid,'

Pulling the dagger from his waistband, he unsheathed and glanced over its flawless glint for a heartbeat. He wandered over to the pile of discarded robes beside Dart and set about the task of cutting fresh strips to replace the obscene crust rotting into him. When he had cut a few large sections of cloth away from the garments, he shrugged in preparation.

A brief probe of the encrusted bandage produced pus and tainted blood from the edges; this was definitely a necessary task. He placed both of his hands on Dart's shoulders and leaned in, speaking softly, "I'm going to change your bandage now. I'm sorry, but this is probably going to hurt - a lot."

If Dart heard or understood him, he betrayed no notice or his delirium prevented his response. James did not wait for confirmation, however, and began to pick at the edges of the bandage until he thought he had enough leverage to peel the matted fabric from the flesh it covered.

But the soiled patch had fused itself to skin. If he tried to take it off now, it was likely to cause more harm than good. Cursing silently to himself, he resolved to at least clean around the edges to remove some of the putrefaction. Gathering the cuts of cloth, he carried them to the brook where he could wet them.

When he returned, he saw that Dart had slumped over once again; the wound's covering had started to separate along the top. Foul rot wept from the new opening, causing James to gag; nothing more than dry heaves. Bracing Dart, he tried to hold him more upright, adjust him so he would not lean, but it was as if he was moving a carcass.

Before he could stabilize the Avis, his shoulders were gripped between two giant wings. Dart's eyes were filled with blind madness, his body as rigid as a board. His face twisted in agony as he tried to form words, but no sound left his throat. The strain of flexing and twisting pulled the covering further from his body, taking with it swathes of flesh and feather alike. It had become death and decay, running pus and acrid liquefaction. Dart screamed in agony, but as tears welled in his eyes his mania quickly reduced him to a whimpering mass.

The wound was far worse than anything James could have imagined. Sickly streaks of black, white, and green had taken the place of healthy reds, a stream of infection flowing down the bird's chest. He could do nothing but retch at the release of foul rot; quickly, he turned aside and loosed his stomach, but little relief was to be had. He quickly placed a wet rag over his face and tied it in a crude mask, hoping it would block the terrible reek.

As quickly as he could, he set about trying to stop the bleeding as best he knew how. He began blotting at the hole in Dart's chest and shoulder, wiping cruel infection from the remaining muscle and tainted sinew. Apart from grunts of pain, Dart was as unresponsive as he had previously been.

But each new contact brought fresh pockets of tainted blood and fetid flesh - it had quickly become evident James could do no further good, so he set about reapplying bandages.

He began to lay chunks of fabric over the opening before wrapping them tightly, but no sooner than they had made contact with poisoned flesh they began drawing seepage from the wound. With concern, James applied further layers to slow its progress, but still it progressed.

James began to panic; he was unprepared for this outcome.

Hurriedly, he grabbed larger sections of uncut cloth in a desperate attempt to halt the bleeding. 'Pressure,'_he remembered, _'It needs pressure.' Wadding sections into crude balls, he filled the wound, pressing inward to staunch the flow, but the fresh wrappings only defiled themselves more quickly under the increased contact. Dart could only pant and gasp for breath as poisoned life spilled from him. He toppled to one side, no longer able to sustain himself.

"No! Fuck! Stay with me!" James pleaded in acute terror, but the Avis could not regard him. "Please stay with me!"

Tears began to stream from his face - James had come to the end of himself. He was no doctor, and was foolish for thinking he could have aided in any way. He could not deal with death.

But his efforts persisted. In a blur of tears, he no longer cared about returning home; he no longer wished to master his magical fire - he needed only to preserve life.

But his efforts were futile. He could not hope to stop the hemorrhaging wound in time. Dread and fear and panic blocked the door to any fire he hoped to conjure to cauterize or heal or save Dart.

Trapped between moments, time halted; he wondered if this moment would be his eternal hell - his mortal blunder. James wept, unaware of the force gathered around him.

Soon, however, his audience entered his perceptions; they crowded around closely. While he could not identify the creatures, their presence alone commanded peace. By degrees, James slid from panic to anxiety to bestirred wonder.

The creatures' appearances defied reason; as small as his head, they could have been cats or bears or mice - he could not comprehend their shifting forms. Imprecisely he detected antlers or leaves or grass or antennae about them.

He could only be certain of the pale, azure glow they cast; spirits or ghosts.

His baffled perceptions detected laughter, but he could not hear it. It was not cruel or scornful, rather given in innocence or giddy love or maternal contentment. It drew him in and steadied his heart. Even Dart appeared to breathe more easily under their influence.

One at a time, perhaps a dozen spirits hovered around them singing a song he could not hear but was nonetheless still present. Their radiance multiplied with each verse, pushing comfort into every crevice of his mind. Taking turns, they floated gracefully to Dart's wounded shoulder, gifting light and relief. One by one, they presented James the same benison, though he had no hurts. When the final essence offered it's gifts, it paused in front of James as if it expected payment or acknowledgement.

Though he could not fathom the depths of his debt, he murmured a sincere thanks. It must have sufficed, as the confusing figure appeared to bow respectfully. Before it faded from his perceptions, a tiny paw pressed against his forehead; James immediately felt more exhausted than ever in his life.

"Sleep." It commanded him silently.

The earth reeled under him, but he could not care; he could only obey.

"Sleep."

~~~~~~~~~~

By the time James woke some time had passed, but Harman had yet to return. The afternoon sun had drifted into an early evening, shifting cool winds uncertainly amidst the cedars and brush as though they were lost. Precious, restful moments had passed, but the familiar panic of his trial was quick to return. When he focused his attention to Dart, however, he found that he was still breathing.

'Still alive.'

Slowly, he sat up and leaned in to inspect the what had been left behind; the injury was still significant, but the bleeding had stopped. The infection had been eaten away as though it provided the spirits nourishment. The remaining flesh around the edges had healed marginally, twisted as if it had been melted and recast onto his body.

But it was healthy.

Dart's breathing was no longer as labored, and color had returned to his flesh. With fever no longer punishing him, it appeared he might yet make a recovery. Still, the wound exuded pain.

'It would be best to at least cover the opening to prevent another infection.'

After searching for any remaining clean fabric, he began to apply the strips around Dart's shoulder. While they did not seal the wound completely, it did provide a measure of protection he would otherwise be without - it would have to suffice.

The blackness of infection had stained his hands and wrists like blood on a butcher; he needed desperately to clean himself. Moving himself to the brook, he began to scrub his hands in the chilled water and fine sand, but no amount of labor could free him of his mark. Before long, he simply gave up the task.

He had long been aware of his hunger - no doubt Dart doubly so - but a brief search of the area produced no recognizable sustenance; water would have to do for now. He drank from the creek's bank until he had quenched his thirst and filled his stomach. Picking up the crude wedge of a bowl Harman had formed, he gathered a few swallows of water from the brook and brought it carefully to Dart. Rousing him quietly, James set the bowl to Dart's blunt beak and began to run a stream into his mouth; it was swallowed greedily, to his relief. Hastening to his aid, James brought water back in several trips until he refused to drink any more. Satisfied with what little he was able to accomplish, he wandered back over to the Avis and sat beside him.

As carefully as he could, he lifted Dart away from the tree and settled him on his back offering the remaining pile of garments as a pillow. The strain fell from Dart's face immediately, as if he had entered a new depth of slumber. James had never really taken a good look at any of the strange creatures in this world; truly, they were a wonder. Dart's face and exposed chest told a subtle story of pain; thin scars, twisted spots of flesh, and small patches lacking his characteristic down hinted of the trials he had faced to survive.

Sighing to himself, James began to recant his own troubles, though he could not be sure he would be heard. He had learned from his past that sharing hardships helps to unburden the soul; if he were helpless to sooth his pain, he may yet do well to ease his conscience. "I'm sorry I'm not better at this whole GOD thing yet; not that I even know what that means in this world. Maybe I could have, I don't know, done something back there."

He adjusted his position against the tree briefly before continuing, "I used to be good friends with my father, you know? Maybe like how you and..." he stopped himself, changing directions abruptly, "Well, just knowing someone who could promise you the world and actually deliver it." He continued for a while longer before he found himself explaining his own struggles.

Without providing too much detail, he described his mother's painful loss to pancreatic cancer, and the sorrow he and his father shared. He touched on the downward spiral of his father during his teenage years - when he needed a father most.

Through tears, he confessed to the fight on his 20th birthday; the final straw that sent his father down the road in a drunken rage; and how he had robbed another father of his only joy.

In this, he had shared his most intimate secrets as much for Dart as for himself; he didn't know what else to talk about. As the evening sun began to grip at the horizon, he closed his final thoughts.

"Despite all of the fighting and betrayal - despite how much we drifted apart - I still love and miss him; and I'm sure he never stopped loving me. Everyone makes mistakes. God knows I've made more than my fair share, but it's a part of life. Not everyone can face despair like that. Sometimes you need help, but you feel too weak to even ask. I still figure he loved me all the same, he just didn't believe my life was better with him in it."

He paused to swallow, but found he had no more words. Glancing down, he noticed Dart smiling faintly; trails of tears matted the down of his face. Though his eyes weren't open, he moved his undamaged wing atop James' hand. James could have sworn he heard a thanks before the Avis drifted back to sleep. He could not be sure he was awake the entire time, but it did not matter. Making himself comfortable enough to rest, he wondered when help may arrive. For now, at least, they would survive.

~~~~~~~~~~

Perhaps an hour later, James became aware of distant hooves pounding the forest floor. The sun had lost itself behind the earth, leaving only a blackness in its place. As he felt around, Dart was no longer lying next to him; instead favoring to curl against a risen tree root. Wiping the blear from his eyes, James rose to meet whatever threat may be approaching, though he couldn't possibly defend himself. He gently nudged Dart with his foot, disturbing much-needed slumber.

Turning to meet the direction of the oncoming sound, he perceived several soft, amber lights. For a moment he wondered if the horses were indeed just horses or some other fantasy creation, but he promptly dismissed the thought.

As the approaching figures advanced on him, he was able to pick out the familiar shape of a Lapin amidst the glow shouting encouragement and scorn at the riders. Within a few breaths the riders had encircled them, their combined glow casting light like a stage between them. Half a dozen mice or rats were mounted on horseback in varying degrees of proper attire, but Harman's dismount stole his attention. Dropping from his saddle, Harman rushed to the pair to evaluate their peril.

Silently Harman made note of Dart's condition and the piles of rags soaked with death; there was clearly a story to tell. But it would have to wait - the evening brought with it a frost that threatened to freeze any life unfortunate enough to brave it. With some relief guiding his decisions, he urged his companions to take up a saddle as quickly as they could.

James first lead Dart to the nearest horseman, helping him up behind the steadfast figure. Were they Skurren like Harman had mentioned? He could not be sure.

What he did know was that all eyes were on him. Every mounted mouse stared agape at his alien form, expecting perhaps he would display some godly wonder - but he had nothing to share.

From beyond the circle, another rider broke the line to approach, a more feminine figure. Her robes were as flawlessly white as her fur, encrusted in gold trim and lined with opulent embroideries. Bowing gently, she announced her intent.

"I am Austrus, mate of chieftain Hargrove, heiress of Goldenbloom. We welcome you eagerly, James Yooman, God of Old, that we may be of service."

As she extended her paw expectantly, James shrugged and climbed up behind her onto the saddle. "Let us then make haste so we may ease your hurts and provide comfort." With the slap of her reins, she ordered the party's swift departure into the forest.