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The building had been a large dome at one time. But now, all that was left was only a fraction of it. Tristan could see sheets of Plastel enclosing the structure, although that didn't bother following the circumference and just made as straight a line as it could from one side to the other.

"They need to rename this to a Ruin, instead of a House," his father said. Tristan glared had him, couldn't he have stayed in the hover like he'd been told?

His father snorted. "Look who's talking. You've been told to leave the guns back there, haven't you?"

He fought the urge to touch the Azeru at the small of his back and check to make sure Alex hadn't heard.

"Go away," he hissed quietly to his father.

Alex's head turned in his direction and Tristan looked ahead. Toward the building's opening on the side, where people were coming out. There was seven of them. A woman in the lead with sandy fur that shimmered with red. She wore loose gray pants and a sleeveless vest that served more to hold items than to cover her. She walked with confidence, her face neutral.

"It's an act!" his father yelled from next to her.

Tristan nodded. It was a mask she'd built to cover up her discomfort and anger.

"Oh, they have swords! Like that's going to help them!"

They other six were fighters, four men and two women muscular in brown pants and harnesses, holding swords and knives. None of them looked please to see either of them.

"They want to kill us," He whispered to Alex, who was a few paces ahead of him. "We should kill them first."

"Just follow me, don't do anything. They aren't the enemy."

Tristan snorted in time with his father. Clearly Alex hadn't paid attention to anything he'd taught him. They were all the enemies. Each and everyone of them. It was just a question of time before someone got in their way.

Alex stopped, so Tristan did to. They waited and the other group stopped fifteen feet away. She studied them, while her guards, no, they weren't there to protect her, they were just looking for a fight. Her warriors glared at them, took their measures.

"Hello," Alex said.

Her eyes flicked to him and then continued looking over Tristan.

"Greetings," she finally said, her tone cautious. "How may I assist you? This region is not on any of the corporation's tourism paths. If you are hoping to visit our humble House, I am afraid you will need to leave. This is a place of worship, not for people to..." she searched for a word. "Gawk at."

Tristan opened his mouth to reply, but Alex beat him to it.

"We're not here to visit anything. We want to return something of yours." He placed the case on the ground and opened it so she could see what was in it.

She hadn't spoken Samalian. She'd--Alex had understood her. Somehow that left Tristan feeling betrayed.

"Thought you were going to impress the human, did you?"

He ignored his father.

She bent and her face lit up. "Well, hello there, dear one." She took the Defender out and looked it over. "Well, you certainly have been places, and are a bit the worse for it. But you're back now. The others will be pleased to have you back among them."

Alex watched her impassively, and Tristan realized that now she was speaking Samalian.

She looked over her shoulder. "You can go back inside, they don't mean us any harm."

"Are you sure?" the man in pale red fur with striped of yellow said.

She nodded. "They wouldn't have bothered returning him if they goal was to pillage."

Alex had tensed at the conversation between them, and Tristan felt smug for knowing what they'd talked about. He relaxed as only the three of the were left there. She stood, cradling the statue.

Tristan fidgeted as his father accompanied the people inside the building. He took a step forward to go get him.

"Don't move," Alex ordered.

Tristan froze. "But--" He tried to take another step but Alex's glare stopped him. He lowered his voice. "He went inside with them, there's no telling the kind of trouble he's going to cause."

"Who?"

Who? What did he mean who? "My father, who else?"

Alex sighed. "Your father isn't there. He isn't here. You told me he was dead."

Had he? He tried to insist, but he saw his father coming toward them from the shuttle. "You didn't stay in there?"

"Why? It's boring in there. All the fun stuff is out here."

He watched his father approach, conscious of Alex and the woman watching him. Could Alex be right? Was it possible that wasn't his father? He didn't really act like himself at times.

"Eyes forward, boy. They're the threat, not me."

Tristan looked at the two of them. She had a puzzled expression, while Alex was trying to keep his temper in check. Tristan's ears drooped. He wanted to apologize, but Alex looked at her and she focused on him.

"I am Hea'las," she said. "I am... you would call me a priestess. May I ask where you found our wayward Defender?"

"On Deleron Four, in a market there," Alex answered.

"Then I thank you for bringing him home." She turned to leave.

"I want a boon," Alex said, his tone making it clear it was a request.

She stopped and looked at him. "A boon? Your people come and take from us." Her voice was slow as she fought to keep control of the language. "You think that returning what you took entitles you to a boon?"

Alex's hand were fists. They were shaking in anger and Tristan found himself eager for the coming fight. Alex would kill her, others would come out of the House and he'd get to kill and taste blood.

Alex's hands opened, and when he spoke there was little of the anger he had to feel. "I am sorry you were robbed. The boon isn't for me. It's for him. He made a promise over the Defender, years ago and it's destroying him. I want him released."

She looked at them, and she nodded, as if she understood them now. "What did he promise?"

Alex hesitated. "To love me."

"How would that--"

"He doesn't love! He doesn't care about anyone but himself! Having to love me is tearing him apart. You heard him, he thinks his dead father's here."

"Hey!" his father objected. "Show some respect, human."

"And you?" Hea'las asked. "How do you feel about him?"

"I love him," Alex whispered.

"But if he is released from his promise..."

"I don't care. I'd rather have him walk away from me. To never see him again than him being that." He motioned to Tristan. "I can't stand that."

A sharp pain stabbed Tristan's heart. Alex couldn't stand him? After everything they'd gone through together? How could he say that? The pain turned into anger, but before he could express it, she said.

"Follow me." And she headed for the building's entrance.

Alex followed her.

"Well?" his father said. "You can't kill him standing there."

"He loves me." Alex had said those words before, not recently, but he had. He hadn't made a promise over a hunk of stone. It was something he felt.

"So what? He's human, he has no idea what love is. I loved you. That you know is true. I made you strong. I made you--"

He ran to catch up to Alex and so he wouldn't have to listen to his father. That hadn't been love. He'd studied love, had weaponized it. He knew what it was. His father hadn't loved him.

He entered the building a step behind Alex. It was dark, compared to outside. It was a simpler version of the one in the city. Only the central room. Three alcoves were part of the wall still standing. In what was roughly the middle of the enclosed room was a golden half sphere on the ground emitting a faint light. Powered lights were placed around the space, but their lights also low.

There were too many shadows among the scaffolding holding up the Plastel sheets.

"Where did you learn my language?" Alex asked.

"The city. When I was young, before the corporations decided they wanted our world, I loved telling your people about the Source. About the Aspects that comprise who we are." She motioned to an alcove. "Those are the lovers. They represent the love we can feel toward one another. The power that makes us willing to sacrifice much for another person."

Tristan glanced in the alcove. Two Samalians of indeterminate sex were in an embrace. The statue was small, on par with the Defender, much smaller than those in the city's House, where they had been almost life size. He grimaced. They were sickeningly sweet, like what someone hoped love was like, and not the minefield of pain it actually was.

He followed past the other Alcove, the Learner, like the Defender and the Lover, his fur was pale, blond, instead of the red they had been represented as in the city. The wall ended after that alcove, and scaffolding made a line from one end of the stone wall, to the other. Instead of alcoves, plinths lined that wall, with more statues. He recognized the Aggressor by his straight posture, claws out, eager to take on anyone who would challenge him. Three of the plinths were missing their statues.

She stopped in front of one of them and placed the Defender on it, running a finger over its head. "If all you had done was return him, this is where he would go. Back among his brethren, looking over us, reminding us that we too are part of something greater." She sighed. "But if you want a boon from him, that is not sufficient."

"The stories say that all we need to do is return him home," Alex said, his tome annoyed.

She motioned to the structure. "This is a House. It represents all that is, with the Source at its center and the Aspects at the borders." She indicated plinth. "But that is not his home." She headed to the exit and with a huff of exasperation Alex followed her. Tristan followed him.

She walked around the building, following the visible foundation when the wall ended. He could see where alcoves had been while the wall stood. She stopped at the fourth such alcove marked by stones in the ground.

"This is where his home was. This is where he stood, watching over us. Reminding us to watch after one another, to protect those weaker than us." She motioned to a hole in the ground. "That is where the Source should be. Where it will be again once we have rebuilt the House."

"Okay, so why did you leave the Defender in there then?"

"Tell me, would you stay outdoors? Exposed to the elements?"

Alex snorted. "I would. I have."

She nodded. "Did you call that home?"

Alex closed his mouth. "Are you telling me we came all this way for nothing? That you won't do anything for him? We brought him back! What else do you want from us? The stories--"

"Are stories." She said, calmly. "You are looking for someone to fix him, when you should be taking him to a doctor."

"The Defender did this to him! He needs to fix this!"

"A home is a structure that offers protection," Tristan said, more to himself than anyone else. Working the problem over in his head. "Walls, ceiling, protecting from the elements, a way to enter and leave. Windows are optional."

"What did you just say?" Alex asked.

"I said that--" he stopped, realizing he was speaking Samalian. "A home is just a house that has an emotional connotation." Alex still seemed confused, but Tristan was sure he hadn't spoken Samalian this time.

"You are correct," she said.

"I guess," Alex added. Good, he had understood him.

Tristan pointed to the structure. "That is a House, because you worship there. All I have to do is build a home here. That's simple enough."

She considered his words. "Yes, you could build something that would be a home here. But it wouldn't be the Defender's home. It would simply be a structure. The Defender's home is part of the House, it cannot exist alone, by itself, unconnected to the whole."

"Then all I have to do is make sure it's connected to the rest of the structure. Build a wall from there," he indicated where the stone part of the building ended, "to..." his voice trailed off as his hand moved from the structure to where the home would be, the distance separating the two. He automatically ran the number. Three feet high to qualify as a wall, three hundred? Four hundred feet long?

He took a step back. "No." That couldn't be it. "No." He looked at Alex., pleading. "We brought it back. We can go home now. I am better. Please Alex." His father snickered. "Shut up! Why can't you do anything useful instead of just laughing at me?"

Alex watched him. Eyes hard.

"I suppose that might work." She said. "It would adhere to the spirit of the stories. But they are--"

"You," Tristan snarled, making her take a step back. "You just want more from me, don't you? Blowing up a building for you wasn't enough, now you want me to build one? Well get your own people to do that. I'm not your tool." He motioned to Alex as he took a step toward her. "He's mine. He's my weapon. He's going to kill you when I tell him too--" he had to stop because Alex was in his way. "Move."

"No."

"Alex," Tristan warned.

"We came here to fix you."

"I am fine!"

"You're a wreck. You spent most of the trip here huddled in a corner crying. That isn't who my Tristan is. If building that wall is what it takes to make you better than that's what we're going to do."

"Alex, move, or I will move you."

"Go ahead." Tristan raised his hand, claws out. Alex's eyes stayed fixed on his. "I'm waiting. I'm standing in your way, remove me." The hand stayed in the air, refusing to come down on the human in his way. He tried as hard as he could, but all it did was tremble in place. "Right, you're perfectly fine." He turned his back to him.

He exposed his back to Tristan. He could rip his spine out, but instead he lowered his hand and looked at it. The woman was saying something to Alex, and Alex was screaming at her now, but he wasn't paying attention. He hadn't been able to remove Alex from his way. It wasn't the first time this had happened. That he'd wanted, needed, to strike him down, but hadn't been able to.

What was wrong with him?

He noticed the stone on the ground, partially buried by time. He looked at his hand again. Who was he if a human like Alex could simply stand in front of him and block his way? What was he if he couldn't kill that one person?

Could he live that way?

He pulled the stone out from the ground and turned it over in his hand. It was twice the size of his hand, heavy. It would make a good weapon. He could bash in Alex's head with it, and the woman. He could throw it.

He knew he wouldn't.

Something was broken inside him.

He took the stone to the edge of the building and placed it down. Four hundred feet long, three feet high, one stone at a time. It would be long, but if it was the price to fix what was wrong, he would pay it.

Then he was going to kill Alex.