Dreaming Ends

His shift in focus does catch her attention, but she doesn't need to look to know what he's talking about. There's only one other thing, one other being, with them here that he could be talking about.

Nodding into his chest, she keeps her grip on him, afraid to let go and what that may mean, especially after he's finally returned the gesture.

"Nameless really liked this forest and it rains here a lot, which he also really liked... God, Nameless loved the rain, it was the only thing he talked about that seemed to put any sort of joy in his voice. I just figured this was the best spot for him."

A shaky laugh escapes her through her continuing sobs, realizing she's rambling about the fox, something she hasn't done in years.

"I swear sometimes I still hear him..."

She has a sudden realization: The way Nameless's death tortured her, the way it felt to lose someone she had spent over a hundred years... She had repressed that loneliness for long that she's just now realizing that must have been exactly how Shand felt when she died. In a way, she understands now and her hands grip at the back of his shirt a little tighter.

"Yeah, I️ know that feeling..."

Shand exhales an airy chuckle, still feeling the awful weight in his head and the aching in his body and he stands slowly, letting Luna clutch at his hand since she seems so unwilling to let him go.

Slowly, he makes his way over to the gravestone, her following, holding his hand so tightly he thinks he might lose circulation.

"He liked the rain, huh?"

Shand taps the top of the gravestone, looking up at the sky and staring at it for a few moments. He looks back down, finally at the dirt beneath him.

"I️ probably should say goodbye to you too, right? You weren't one for sentiment, understandably, but I️ am so, not your lucky day I️ guess."

He lets go of Luna's hand with a little squeeze, and she seems almost frantic for a moment after they're no longer touching. But when he crouches down to sit beside the stone, she seems to calm a bit.

"Where to even start with you."

Shand shakes his head, nearly laughing right off the bet.

"Only person I️ ever met who was more of an ass than me. Well, fox, person, you know. And I️ relished that, so thank you for that. I'll pour one out for you when I'm not sitting in the middle of what appears to be a sacred forest."

Shand clears his throat as the light tone in his voice fades and he feels a lump growing in his throat.

"I️ don't know if I'd be who I️ am today if not for you. For better and worse, of course."

He studies the ground now, letting his thoughts roll out at random.

"You pushed me, hell, to my breaking point, and you did it for fun because you felt like it, but damn if I️ didn't need it. So thank you for that, too."

A little smile plays on his lips as he wonders what the fox would say now in this moment, if he were here.

"Hey, you should know, we killed Olvreign yesterday. That was a personal high for me, bit of a rush. And Luna's back, so you don't have to worry about coordinating her future and saving the world and all that junk again. It's done. It's all finished."

He imagines Nameless taking a deep breath, curling up, with that large tail of his wrapped around him, and sleeping peacefully.

"I️ screwed it up a lot, but I️ took care of her the best I️ could. And I️ wouldn't know the breaking it is to love another person more than yourself if it weren't for her. So thanks. Thanks for throwing her abruptly into my life. I️ appreciate it."

Luna watches him with a steady gaze holding her hands in front of her anxiously, never knowing what Shand may pull.

What if this is still all one big ruse to put distance between them so he can disappear at will, leave things up in the air as they are, because he knows he won't get another chance like this?

She shakes her head. She needs to have more trust in him than that... But the problem is that she wouldn't blame him if that was his plan. If he wants to go off alone, leave her here, she technically can't stop him though she will damn try. Shand did say, "Say goodbye to you too," while looking down at Nameless's grave and the words echo.

And it only makes it all the worse when he thanks Nameless for throwing their lives together, tells the grave what it means that he was able to meet her. This really is it, isn't it? He's planning on leaving her here. A new round of tears starts, a little more hot anger fueling these than before, and she turns from him, from the grave, hands clenched over her chest, pulling at the fabric of her own shirt like it's suffocating her.

Off in the trees, beyond the grave, something white flicks, just as it always had, observing the two in the clearing. It glows dimly in the cover of the trees and looks more like a mirage than a physical creature, but whatever it is they both know the form and the form knows them, staring ever so intently with happy red eyes.

He doesn't say anything at first, just stares, seeming to be taking in the view of the two of them standing together yet again, but the silence doesn't last long.

"I didn't work so hard for this ending for you to go and ruin it in the last act, pirate-boy. You were much better at being a noble thug when you didn't try as hard."

His voice is soft like a whisper and could easily be mistaken for the wind and there's a content tone that seeps into each word. Everything about the vision of him seems like it's more something they're both dreaming than actually seeing... But they're both awake and they can both definitely see him.

"Name..."

Red eyes flick to Luna and soften even more, a gentle animal-type smile spreading across his snout. She looks about ready to completely forget Shand and run over to the fox but it shakes its head.

"Fengari. There are a lot of things I could say but you should know that I did love you, there didn't have to be 'in another life,' and I wanted to tell you that before I left but I couldn't. You were, and are, my closest friend."

The scene flashes all at once, Nameless's terrified face, eyes flicking wildly as he knew his final moments were upon him, holding his giant head in her hands, his blood staining her... And how at last his eyes focused on her, how she saw tears in his deep red eyes, and, with what strength he had left, he tried to move his mouth to say something but no words came out. He left in unwanted silence.

Luna drops to her needs, keeping one hand still clutching even more desperately over her heart, and nearly throws her palm onto the ground to catch herself. The world spins like she's forgotten how to breathe and her long purple hair hides her face from view.

"I love you too."

The words come out through choked coughs, but the sentence alone makes Nameless close his eyes, like he's never heard a more beautiful thing and, even from a distance, it looks like a tear falls from his big eyes.

"I know, and you did in moments when I certainly didn't deserve it."

Finally, his eyes open and flick to Shand, his tail sways as if it longs to smack him in the face one more time.

"I knew about you thousands of years before you existed. I had wrongs I needed to right and, from what I could tell, you were my best chance at redemption. I had all the world meet just so I could observe you and, more importantly, see how you interacted with Fengari. Needless to say, I was satisfied with what I found in you. So, I trusted you to save her in a way I couldn't."

He hums as he admits all of his careful planning in the open for them to finally hear, obviously pleased with himself, keeping his attention locked on Shand for the moment.

"Yes, I used you for my own goal, but even I knew her destiny was unfair. It was a fate I couldn't change so I needed someone close to my level of power to do it for me. You may have been foretold of in your world, but no one other than myself knew your prophecized fate went far beyond one reality."

Nameless turns his back on both of them, not waiting for a response as he takes a few steps deeper into the forest ahead, the shadows of the trees beginning to obscure the view of him, making it feel all the more like a vision.

"I lived alone for thousands of years... I would hate to see the two of you do the same."

"Na-Nameless?"

Shand's mind feels like it's slowly playing catch up, the vision of the fox in front of him coming as such a shock, and then his words sending Shand reeling agin.

Although Nameless is moving away from them now, Shand reaches his hand out slowly, like he just wants to feel the creature's fur between his fingers again.

"You can't show up and just say things like that and then leave again!"

Shand pushes himself to his feet- albeit, he does it awkwardly and more stumbles than stands.

"What do you mean, you planned it? This whole time, you've been toying with us?"

Shand thinks back to the knowing, wordless mischief in the fox's eyes the very first time they'd ever met. How Nameless had begun picking at him, prodding and poking, almost immediately.

He can't stop the tide of memories from flowing over him now- every experience they had shared, him and Nameless and also the three of them.

His earlier realization his him hard in the chest with a new force. Their time at the Blind Fox. Where Nameless had suck them on purpose.The pain of failing Luna and watching her suffer, everything that had been his fault in that dream of a dimension.

The same feeling fills him again with a new meaning, a new purpose. Nameless throws a look over his shoulder as if he'd handpicked that memory and projected it back to Shand for just this reason.

If what Nameless says is true- hell, even if it isn't- Shand can't leave Luna alone. Apparently this has always been his role, his destiny, and even when he didn't know it, he'd still felt the pull just as strong to protect her, to keep her from harm, to try and bring her some joy where he could.

And if Nameless had orchestrated all this, even thousands of years before Shand had been born, again, if the fox is being truthful- then he'd seen Luna's fear, her loneliness, her hurt. And Shand's, for that matter. And he'd gone through a heck of a lot to reverse it.

When he'd known Nameless ages ago, Shand had never seen humanity in the creature's eyes. There was always a cold detached, dead stare that was set on experimentation, on the realization of the facts and their implications.

There is a realness to Nameless now, whether he is a figment of their minds or a vision or not. A softness, a tenderness that seems so out of place on him, but at the same time, that Shand wants to study on him as long as he can.

"Don't worry." He finally chokes out. "I'll take care of her."

Nameless pauses, continuing to look over his shoulder at Shand for a long moment, trying to express his emotions and convictions in his final glance.

Luna demands his attention... Or maybe she's always drawn it without even knowing, and his eyes shift to her.

"That's all I ever wanted... Other than you not wasting your long life away drunk in some cave like a hermit."

The grin he flashes Shand is soft, caring, earnest, all the things Nameless had told Shand he couldn't feel since the day we met, and he's sharing them all with Shand, for Shand, towards Shand.

"That life doesn't suit you."

With another knowing second in the books, he turns his back to them and continues his walk, his body dispersing in the trees and humidity of the forest before them, his tail giving one last flick as he goes, a final goodbye to them both.

Luna watches his form calmly pass from them and it's like she's watching him go all over again, watching him leave her in this life for the second time, but she can't chase him. She never could. He was always out of her reach miles ahead and now he's even further, so far she can't even see his white fur anymore. Again. All these feelings crash down on her again. As if the first time wasn't bad enough.

Her eyes look down at the grass below her, the blades moving softly in the breeze. Even with her hand over her chest, she can't feel her heart, like it can't possibly beat anymore like there's nothing for it to beat for. Life has taken so much from her, why not open an old wound and let whatever's blood is left drain from her slowly.

The world below her seems so distant and she misses Shand's promise, her ears ringing. He's going to leave, too. This is life, this is how life is and will always be.

"You're going to leave."

Her words get swept away in the air, so quiet she can barely hear her own sentence. But the words and realization settle like concrete on her heart, in her stomach.

Nameless vanishes just as he'd come, and Shand is left with wonderings, questions, things burning in him that he wants to ask, wants to keep talking about.

But in other ways, a settled feeling anchors in his chest and gives him a certainty, a decisiveness that hadn't been there before.

Luna is crouched in the grass, no doubt suffering from Nameless's quick appearance. Gone so fast, in a flash, without time to properly process. Just jerked away out of her grasp again.

He watches her hand pull at her shirt, like she's trying to feel something, anything in her chest. But her desperation, the way she'd clutched his shirt earlier and demanded that he hold her, that is gone.

Her head hangs, she looks defeated. And Shand is struck by how many times she has had to give up on what she wants, push herself down, and surrender. To Nameless, to a world that hated her, to other peoples' decisions, including Shand's.

He'd brought her back from the grave, they'd been through this whole ordeal so that she can experience life again the way people are supposed to the first time around, so that she can enjoy living and put off the weight that had brought her out of childhood too early, that had stolen all her years away, tucking free will and choice behind commands and punishments.

"Yeah, I'm leaving."

Shand responds to her small voice, limping over until he's behind her, pulling at the hand that feels at her heart, using it to bring her to her feet. He has an idea. And if it pans out... he can only imagine the wild grin that would spread across the fox's face at that thought.

"I'm leaving and you're coming with me. Come on."

Luna barely feels like she can stand. She doesn't want to stand. She wants to stay there on the wet ground. Shand's motion to pull her to her feet is both welcome and unwelcomed.

What is he getting at?

His tone is different, softer but more determined, and she can't decide if that should make her happier or concern her more.

There's still nothing there, no heartbeat, no jolt in her mind, no surge of feeling from his touch, sudden decision, or words.

"Taking me back to the house, back to Ivor, is not the same thing as me coming with you."

Her eyes stay down from him, staring ahead, searching the trees for anything. Nameless? Maybe. But really anything that would give her some sort of reaction.

Even though she said it, even though she told him that plan isn't the same thing as what she wants, there's a defeated heaviness to her shoulder, like if that is what he wanted, had ultimately decided on, she'd go with it anyways.

That's all she can do. Obedience is her only option in a world of people with more will and freedom than she's ever had.

She's not following him at all, and it makes him smile a little bit, that turned up, sideways grin that only affects half his mouth and his eyes.

It feels a little wicked to drag things out like this, but the feeling, this idea, is dawning on him and suddenly he feels younger than he has in centuries. Everything looks brighter everywhere he turns and it's like, after years and years and years of searching and pointlessness and pain, he can finally see a way out.

A way out for both of them. They're both selfish children, like she said. But they've always been selfish in the same way, wanting the other one in their lives, but always fearing being a source of weight, of hurt, of more trauma.

But really, isn't all that just because of what their worlds have done to them? The memories, the lasting legacies. What if there was a way to start fresh?

He is smiling idiotically now, taking her other hand in his like he's planning to dance with her, swing her around like they had that time in a distant dream.

She can see his expression now, his body language.

"Lunatic."

His voice is full of excitement, like a child yearning to show a stick figure masterpiece to a parent.

"I️ have an idea. Do you trust me?"

Lights. Smoke.

Her hair pinned, short dress with more tassels than should be possible flaring, cleaned pressed suit, his hair slicked out of his face. The flashes of a happy memory with a dimly lit scene dominate her senses for a split moment.

Her feet step instinctively like they're about to twirl together, and the motion surprises herself.

His face is so full of life, newfound joy and exciting plans clear in his bright hazel eyes.

She's too afraid to hope, too afraid to think he's changed his mind. Belief in another person has burned her before.

But she wants to, something about the way he stands their pulling her hands in his begs her to.

"... Yes."

"Then hold still."

He's still smiling like a little boy as he lifts his hand and gently presses it into her forehead, moving slowly so that she sees it coming and isn't threatened by it.

Within moments, he's in her head. That room that had been empty yesterday, lamp broken and dark.

The lamp emanates light now, and he can see out the window that the world underneath has come to life.

What a sight to see.

He concentrates hard, and her memories start flicking in front of him, multiple ones running their scenes out at once in the air in front of him.

He ignores some, grabs at others, pinching pieces of them and tucking them into his pocket. He hunts like this for what feels like forever, leaving some memories to play out without giving them any attention at all, letting them retain an air of privacy.

By the time he's done, he's sitting crosslegged on the floor of her subconscious, his jacket pocket stuffed full of what looks like slips of paper- all blank. He eases himself to his feet, the dragon fire in his own head cooling more and more as the calm of this room seeps into his mind.

He walks across the floor and pats the neck of the lamp affectionately, like one might pet a beloved pet, before crawling onto the window sill, pushing it open, and jumping.

Shand opens his eyes and his hand is still on Luna's forehead, and she's staring at him, then up at his hand, back and forth worriedly.

It's only been a few seconds that have elapsed real time, but it feels to him like he's been gone hours and back in his body he feels heavy and sluggish.

But he removes his forehead and grabs for both her hands again, pulling her as he walks backward back down the path to Ivor's house.

He's not telling her anything, just smiling like an absolute idiot pulling her along like his smile is enough of an explanation.

"Shand, what is going on?"

The absolute one-eighty he's made nearly gives her whiplash and her mind can't process how exactly she should be responding to all of this.

Luna is a little surprised by how well he's walking considering he was just limping mere minutes ago and the ground is not only uneven but slippery with mud, then he has the energy to walk backwards on top of it all.

Her eyebrow arches at him but even she can feel her expression relax, following him with a little more pep in her step, trusting him more with each second that ticks by.

Ivor stands in the doorway of his house, throwing charred pieced of wood and furniture out to continue cleaning what remains, appearing to have calmed himself in the time Shand has been gone.

Shand falters a little bit when Ivor comes into view. The conversation they'd had earlier, the fresh wounds for both of them. He wonders if the man has come around out of what seemed to be quite the bender.

He grows a bit sheepish as they approach the house, becoming fully aware of how it looks, how it will feel to Ivor, to see Shand leading Luna back down the path, hand in hand, smiling like an idiot.

He wants to keep smiling like an idiot, but Ivor's face still puts a damper on the proceedings and Shand presses his lips tightly together.

"Ivor. We need to talk."

Ivor quickly eyes their hands and there is a quick spark of anger that settles into something almost far worse: Acceptance.

He's been with them long enough, heard Luna talk about their shared dreams more times than he can count, to have thought this would be a possibility.

Luna glances back and forth between the two, easily reading Ivor's expression.

"Hey, wait, this isn't what you think-"

Stop - His hand raises on its own to respond to her, to quiet her from continuing to defend the two of them, believing it to be exactly what it looks like.

"I think we definitely need to talk."

"Look, I️ don't care right now how sorry you feel for yourself or how badly you want to stew in whatever it is you've got going on up there at the moment."

Shand points at his own temple, his voice a little more than dismissive. He's been there, in the drowning in his own anguish, but right now, it's going to be about Luna for once in her life, Ivor be damned.

He pushes past Ivor into the house, Luna on his heels, and Ivor behind her. He immediately starts searching Ivor's cabinets, pushy and aggressive, the poster boy for a poor house guest.

"I️ know you've got liquor in here now, so don't even try to pull a fast one."

Shand finds a small bottle, uncaps it with his teeth, and takes a few sips before leaning back on the edge of the table and pointing at Ivor.

"I've had my growing up moment this morning, and it's time you had yours, too. Granted, mine is about a thousand years late, give or take, so listen up and be thankful your life timing is better than mine."

He drains the rest of the liquor and tosses the bottle into a pile of black and charred wood.

"From here on out, this is about what's best for Luna. I️ think we can agree she's given up enough already and should be allowed just a modicum of something good in her life."

He holds up two fingers, pinches them together almost mockingly. He sounds brash and inconsiderate, but really, Shand is still just riding out the high of his idea and having to deal with this bunny trail, this obstacle in the way is sparking his annoyance as well as making him annoying.

"So you and me, we need to work together here for her. To help her. Are we on the same page yet, or no? If not, is there more of this stuff anywhere, cause I'm going to need it."

"Excuse me, you come barging in here holding my wife's hand and start demanding I listen to you about what's best for her?"

Luna visibly flinches at the use of the word "wife" and what Ivor had said earlier, about the possibility of neither of them actually loving each other in that way, seems all the more prevalent now that they're here interacting in the same space.

"I don't think he means to offend you or anything, Ivor. He's just... He has an idea for something and needs to talk it through."

Her vagueness doesn't help the situation but it's not like Shand has given her anything to go on to help smooth this over either.

"Oh, I'm sorry, does his idea involved breaking up a marriage?"

"You and I both know we can hardly call what we have a marriage. We're really just two people in the same space that didn't know if we'd find anyone else."

His large hand slams down on the kitchen counter, demanding attention, shaking the empty mugs and plates on top of it.

"Luna! Please, dear GOD, just stop. What do you know anyways?"

The harsh tone tenses her shoulders but she doesn't back down, just raises her eye brows in disbelief.

"What do I know about what? That you miss Elaine and wish you had proposed to her instead but you felt like you couldn't because your reputation had been ruined by running around to save our world with me, the notorious traitor of old? The devilish fire witch? That you were so lonely and felt so bad for me that you were willing to offer the rest of your life if it meant not sleeping in a bed alone?"

Luna pinches the bridge of her nose to calm herself down, knowing she needs to, that Ivor doesn't deserve this. He really is a kind man and she despises seeing him bent over the counter, gripping the edge, steady angry gaze on her.

"Listen, I'm sorry that I ruined things for you and Elaine, I really am. I'm sorry my past couldn't stay my problem but became yours, too. I'm sorry that no matter what I did, I ruined everything you ever wanted."

Her tone is sincere, if not a little tired and truly upset for him and her presence in his life.

"I think you still have a chance with her though. You built this house near Jiden because it was close to her, right? She's not married, she always waited for you."

But he isn't having it. He grabs a glass and throws it across the room, some of the shards bouncing from impact so hard they make their way back to where the three stand.

He's not listening.

"Shut up! I married you when I, apparently, obviously wanted someone else, doesn't that mean anything to you?"

“It really sounds like you’ve got to have more liquor in this house.”

Shand puts in, raising his hands in innocence when the two cut glaring looks at him. This seems like something they need to work out between the two of them, but he has no desire to stand in this kitchen, sober, while two technically old married people fight about not wanting to be married.

Ugh.

“Aaaand, for the record, we have never actually slept together, EVER.”

Luna sends him a warning glance.

“I️m not counting that time- my god, have you been counting that, all this time?”

Shand’s face lights up with amusement like he wants to laugh, then sees Ivor shaking with anger and thinks better of it. He clears his throat.

“But really, we’ve never been romantically involved. It’s not like that. But it shouldn’t really matter what it’s like. She’s back from the dead. The dead, man. She didn’t get a choice in life, and obviously neither did you.”

He turns and checks one more cabinet unfruitfully before continuing.

“Now, I️ have just learned from a dead fox that I’m supposed to be here for here. Like as a full time job. Which I’m cool with, but here’s the thing. There have been a lot of things that have tried to prevent that over the years. Death being one of those things. And even when I️ was fumbling blindly through eternal existence with a rum bottle and god knows what else glued to my hand, I️ didn’t let those stand in my way. Now that it’s legit my destiny, I’m not giving up any easier.”

Ivor’s jaw is clenching and Shand can tell hes making the man more and more furious. He doesn’t really care. Him, Olvreign, Hadrian. Damn them all.

“Listen. You’re not a bad guy. You love her in your own way, I️ get that. Believe me, I️ do. But so help me, don’t make this any harder on me than it needs to be. Because in the end, it’s just making it harder on yourself. She needs to come with me.”

"Ivor, please-"

"Just go."

He hangs his head, refusing to look at either of them, not caring for Shand trying to explain whatever their relationship is, knowing what he sees and he sees something beyond friendship which is enough to set him off, regardless of how far they've taken things.

"Just like that?"

"Just like that!"

He shouts back at her with a booming voice, enough to make her step back in initial shock and fear, wide blue eyes trailing to Shand for some sort of input.

"If this is what makes you happy then leave. That's what I'm telling you."

Even if the marriage was fake and the meaning of husband and wife carried nothing but rings on their fingers, they are still friends and care about each other. It's obvious by his shaking voice.

Luna allows him a few seconds of silence before she makes his way to his side, resting a hand on his arm with a gentle smile. She whispers something to him but he shakes his head and shrugs off her arm coldly and it's obvious the action hurts her, wiping the smile clear off her face.

Nothing she says will make this better, despite both of them knowing the truth of it all deep down.

Shand studies the two of them keenly, completely unconvinced that Ivor's declaration stands.

He looks over at Luna testingly. He can't help but feel that nagging worry start to sink back in, that he was born to wreck things and hurt people, but he closes his eyes for a moment.

No, he can't go there right now. Luna needs someone in her corner that is talking sense, that is looking out for her instead of flopping about in their own emotional trauma muddle.

"Listen."

Shand's voice is softer, quiet, more compassionate. He doesn't move closer to Ivor, but Luna still stands near him.

"You've looked out for her for a long time. And if anyone knows what it's like to try and let a bond like that go, it's me. And I'm not a shining example of how to deal with that in a healthy way, either. All I'm saying is that I️ think Luna deserves for all the people left around her who care for her to be working together for her. That's all."

He toys with the idea of taking it further, feels like it could be insensitive and cancel out everything he's just said, but he doesn't feel like beating around the bush much more than he has.

"I️ want to create a new dimension. So if you're not on board with doing what's best for Luna, then we'll get out of your hair and I'll just find somewhere else to rest and heal and booze up in preparation for the job."

"I think it would be best if you two just left. Now."

Luna can see the argument flare up in Shand's eyes just a bit, clearly upset that Ivor is still in his own pity party about the outcome of all of this.

"If that's what you want, then that's fine."

This isn't how she ever wanted to leave him, in fact dying in his place may have been better than this. The marriage of necessity didn't change the fact they're friends and she hates to leave a close friend in this kind of state.

Now certainly isn't the time to question Shand's idea, it isn't about that. This second is about Ivor.

"For what it's worth... If I were you, I'd go speak with Elaine. A woman that's willing to wait thirteen years for you, well, that's someone special. Someone I wouldn't let go of."

Even if he had previously pushed her away, her hand finds his and squeezes it tightly for a moment and, against his words and actions, he returns the hold, a little weaker than she is but at least he isn't shaking her off.

His hands look so much older than hers, his tanned and cracked, hers young and smooth. If there love had been real and not constructed out of questionable values and split-second decisions, they would have parted from each other eventually.

He's aging as a person should and she's not. Time would have been against them even if their own broken mindsets and confused emotions hadn't.

"Hysanora."

Luna presses her forehead to the side of his and whispers in a language long lost to even this world, so definitely one Shand wouldn't know.

The sound of the word brings a different kind of twinge to Ivor's face but his lips do pull up every so slightly at the sound.

"Hysanora."

He repeats it back to her but he has a bit of a harder time saying it, like the word is foreign, only knowing it from her.

She backs away from him and he doesn't move, even when she takes a moment to watch him. It may be for the best he doesn't look at her, mostly for his sake.

Shand makes his way back through the kitchen and out the front door, not pausing to see if Luna is taking any last moments with Ivor or not.

In a few moments, she's out front with him, too. He stands for a moment, looking around.

"Did you two just make a blood pact to kill me?"

Luna shoots him a quizzical look and Shand shrugs.

"Great, cause you'd just be wasting your time. Alright."

He rubs his hands together, surveying the surrounding area. He has no clue about where he is or what this world is like, for the most part.

"Like I️ said in there, I'm going to make a new dimension. I'm gonna need to rest up a little bit first, though, and I️ think you might need some sleep, too... is there anywhere nearby where we could spend a day or two safely?"

"The town of Jiden is close. We could get an inn room there. It's connected to the bar which I know you'll like-"

Luna pauses as she explains the situation, eyes wandering around the yard, then back to the house, the through the yard again, looking for something.

"My hat. Where's my hat?"

For it being just a piece of clothing, the absence of it seems to send quick worry through her, almost looking around frantically like she needs it to survive. In a way, she does.

As her eyes sweep over the area, she catches sight of Shand's confused expression watching her lose it over something so seemingly small.

"I'm sure you've noticed but purple hair isn't normal. Actually, it's kind of my calling card. People see my hair and they run or attack, no in between. Aterkin's are not well-liked and me more so than the rest. If we go to a town without some way to hide my hair then they're going to run us out or try to kill us. Or worse... They may even try to drown me like a witch."

She sighs, a bit of a hopeless but accepting shrug rolling through her shoulders. She hates that she was born with something that made people want to kill her from day-one but this is at least something she's had a lifetime to accept.

Shand nods, accepting the current information. He almost wants to laugh, seeing now why Nameless had gone through all the trouble to keep them together. He knows exactly the frustration Luna feels, although his calling card consists of two scars buried expertly under years and years' worth and layers of tattoos. Plus, not being in his world and all, he's much more in the clear now than she is.

He thinks for a moment, and then furrows his brow.

"I️ sure hope you're not talking about the purple pointy one. Cause Olvreign was doing creepy stalker things with it in her cave and I️ definitely crushed it in an earthquake thing. Long story."

Shand shakes that thought off and thinks for a moment, patting at the pockets of his jacket. He's been known to be slightly eccentric for keeping odd things on his person pretty often, but in situations like these, he's never been the one on the back foot.

He pulls out a thin, long black scarf and for a moment he looks like one of those crazy magicians who pull endless scarves out of their sleeves. But his finally does end and he holds it up for Trita to inspect.

"Can you manage with this until we find something better? That bar is just really calling my name."

Luna isn't completely sure the scarf will hold all of her hair but she takes it and gets to quick work concealing the purple locks the best she can.

It feels odd and like she's even more exposed than she would have been just walking around normally, not enjoying that her shoulders are out in the open, but there's no time to be picky.

In a way, though, it does frame her face and make her deep blue eyes a much more prominent feature... Which, probably isn't good as they already have a sort of mysterious otherworldly feel to them but at least that can be pushed off on good genetics. Nothing about her hair can be redeemed in the eyes of this world.

"It'll do, thanks."

She goes to walk ahead of him, lead the way, this is her world afterall, Shand does know where she's going, but something in her tells her it's a bad idea. Her gait hesitates as she goes to pass him.

He's really coming with her, right? He's taking her away from here, to God only knows where, but there is still the creeping fear of this all being a lie that won't leave her mind. Refusing to look at him, she tentatively grabs his sleeve then continues, pulling him along beside her, fingers gripping the fabric of his jacket tightly.

Shand laughs as he grasps at his sleeve, pulling him along behind her.

"Okay, Mom, not so fast, I'm a little wobbly here still."

She slows her pace a bit and he grabs her hand now instead, gives it a little squeeze.

"I'm not going anywhere."

They walk down the path leading away from the house for a while, wordlessly, and Shand takes some time to contemplate what he wants to do.

It's totally crazy. He knows this. But so is bringing Luna back from the dead, killing Olvreign, and seeing Nameless from beyond the grave. Crazy should be their new normal right about now, but it still feels overwhelming.

He knows the energy, the fight it'll take out of him to create this new world. He'd had about a 300 year phase of pushing his power to its limits, rewriting the limits, and then pushing those again. He's made plenty of dimensions within that time just for fun, just to see. But destroying them afterwards was always the easier part.

When he'd been with Nameless, accidentally creating that dimension for the first time ever, it'd been out of sheer fury. Come to think of it, that does it pretty often for him. But after a day like today, he doesn't have much anger left in him. Not that he doesn't have any fight left, but he's just tired.

He's been so tired lately, but maybe that has to do with reanimating souls and shooting crystals and doing things generally that one shouldn't do everyday. Whatever.

A small building comes into view at the end of the long path, with a small town settling into a hillside around it. It's almost picturesque, if you can live two thousand years and still call anything picturesque.

"Do we have an entry strategy?"

Shand asks with a mischievous smile.

"We need cover stories. Ridiculous ones. We can be circus performers...do you have circuses in your world? We could also just be drunks. I️ can do a pretty mean drunk guy impression."

Suddenly, she's second-guessing all of it and can't help but look at him like he's a madman.

"I... What?"

Her eyebrow arches, eyes scanning his stupid grin and mischevious expression. He lives for this sort of thing. Or at least he used to. His dreams have grown darker, grayer, not as flamboyant and vivid as they had been over his long existence.

Something about how he looks at her now, wanting to think of some ridiculous plan, reminds her of the Shand she met a lifetime and a half ago.

And it brings a slow smile to her face.

"We could be performers. You know how to play any instruments? A lot of times at these inn-pub businesses, if you can pull your weight and entertain the patrons for a night they'll let you say for free, or at least discounted."

There's an excitement that fills her, the likes of which she hasn't felt in years at the prospect of whatever he's thinking.

His hand is rough in hers and it's odd, to say the least. Technically speaking, he is younger than her so you'd think his skin would be better. He's probably just done more manual labor.

All these little things, small differences, insignificant parts of life start seeming a little bit brighter at the prospect of change.