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___“Now I am going down to eat!” Gaekwar laughed exhaustedly.
___“Too bad we can’t have fresh meat waiting for us after that!” Even Dagon seemed to be enjoying the camaraderie.
___“Ha! My friend, we’ll have meat aplenty!” Portunista’s memory reported that she’d never heard the ‘cowherd’ calling Dagon a friend even once before… “There should be a severed bird already down the stairs. Chopped its head, and kicked the body through the door!”
___“Foul roast!” Othon snorted—Portunista could practically hear his smiling strength, however.
___“I’m afraid so,” Seifas sighed. “Aasvogel meat is tough and stringy. Then again, we were only taught about the full-grown birds; these chicks may be more tender.”
___“Chicks!” chimed in two or three together.
___“Yes; adults are not as small as those. Qarfax must have set his tessers near a nesting ground.”
___“Just how large do those things grow?!” Dagon demanded.
___“Large enough to hunt a shoulderbeast, or even wyrms,” Seifas somberly answered. “No one knows the limit. Giants roam the Middlelands.”
___“How can something so large fly?” marveled Jian.
___Before the juacuar could answer—“How’d you get up on th’ back o’ one-a those turkeys?!” Pooralay roared.
___“Wasn’t easy!” chuckled Jian. “Good thing I put on my gloves,” he added, with a touch of wonder in his voice. “Just like riding a barrel made of feathers!” he laughed again. “For a while we bumped around the lower branches of the trees; she was trying to shake me off, or knock me off, or anyway get back up through the canopy into the open sky. It was very dark down there…But sometimes, we were gliding beneath those trees…as if floating through enormous castle halls. She eventually got used to me, I think, and decided I wasn’t going to hurt her; so she calmed and got her bearings, and then she swam through the air until she found a channel back up through the branches. I could hear this other racket going on—but, it seemed like she and I were alone in another world…and then we shot up through that clearing of living leaves and branches, and we plunged into a lake of stars! She spread her wings and cried for joy, and…” he sighed. “And I kissed her neck, as I clung to her feathers. I thanked her for the things we shared. I hope I dream about them…”
___“You kissed…the back…of a killer…bird…” Dagon flatly said.
___“Hmph!” chuckled Jian. “Do you have no poetry in your soul?? Even if she was my enemy, how could she not love the life she lives, even more than I? And if she couldn’t, then I would love it for her, for her sake; such an experience, as she is, ought to be loved. But, I think she must also love what she does. And if we are loving something together, I would be a traitor not to love her, even if she was my enemy; for we share that love. If we must fight, then we will fight; but I would love her anyway. And if she cannot love me…then I will love her still, though I die—for she is my sister, even if she cannot know me for her brother.”
___“You should try to love cows sometime…” Gaekwar muttered cynically.
___“You,” said Seifas softly, “should have been among the Guacu-ara.”
___“Pooralay!” Jian exclaimed. “What happened with the door?”
___“Blindwitted idjit!” Poo retorted. “Didn’t y’see what happen’d when ‘ista went through th’ door th’ first time? What didja ‘xpect w’d happen when you jump’d through?!”
___“Well,” he answered—Portunista heard him shrugging in his voice, “I figured the door would close again, of course. But we had to find her. And I’m expendable.” No rancor or regret, only a fact. Her heart and stomach twisted together… “I meant, that I was surprised the door stayed open when the rest of you came through. How did you manage that?”
___“Th’ way I woulda managed it th’ first time, if y’d’a waited, y’punkie-brained fool! Got a strip o’ paper rolled on a spindle in m’ pocket. It’s been treat’d with an ex-tract, made fr’m honey trees ‘n other stuff. Peel it back, cut offa slice, an’ then it c’n hold things together. Handy, in my line of work.” The maga heard his thoroughly devious grin. “So I scotched that hair we found, onto th’ plate. Good f’r in-ter-ro-ga-tions, too. Put it on some hair’n…rrrrrrip!”
___Everyone was laughing, even Seifas.
___Everyone…but her.
___Why wasn’t she laughing?
___Because.
___Everything now was right. And everything was wrong.
___Everything mattered, now. And that was worse than nothing mattering.
___If he had never come into her life, she might have always been content with nothing mattering but herself.
___When he was gone, she knew the truth. When he was there, she knew the truth.
___The truth, was that she wasn’t the most important thing in all the world. The truth, was that it was better for her, not to be the most important thing, the only thing, that mattered to her.
___It hurt. It hurt in different ways. She hated that pain…why wouldn’t he leave her alone…?! He was laughing, laughing in her pain…she hated that pain…she hated…she hated him for doing this to her! She hated him for bringing her a truth she did not care for! She would show him…she would show…
___“I will show him…” Portunista muttered. “I will show him…he can’t do this to me…” She whistled up a wisplight, and refused to hear how shaky she was sounding. One erratic wisp appeared…was it dimmer?
___“Um…Portunista?” Jian was looking at her, with those innocent eyes. Why did he not ever seem to hurt?! He was laughing at her, laughing from the grave he didn’t have…
___“He won’t get away with this…” she promised him. But—she couldn’t face those eyes, those eyes that didn’t hurt, that never seemed to thirst, those eyes she couldn’t set her teeth into, invulnerable to her, only giving, always ready to give, and never seeming to need. She sobbed and fell against the inner wall, throttling down her sob with rising fury.
___“He won’t do this to me! He won’t hurt me like this and get away with it!” She pounded her fist upon the wall.
___“Not to sound nervous, or anything…” Gaekwar nervously drawled. “But I think I missed a part. Who are you talking about, again?”
___She ground her teeth and groaned. She would strike out, strike out and not be hurt, strike at the man who hurt her, strike at…at…
___“Qarfax!” she exclaimed. “He’s laughing at me! He thinks he’s smart, and that I cannot get to him! But I will! I know where he’s weak!”
___“He’s dead,” Othon pointed out.
___“He thinks he’s won,” she grated, “but he hasn’t! He thinks I cannot get to him! But I can! He hurt me when I tried to find his laboratory…but I won’t give up…I will get in, and I will do it tonight!”
___Gaekwar stood, and very carefully walked to her. Portunista was sure that he meant well; she could see his eyes.
___She understood those eyes. He wasn’t understanding her.
___And that was fine. She was comfortable with that.
___But Gaekwar wasn’t the one she wanted to understand, and wanted to be a mystery to…
___“Commander,” he said, looking her in the eye with the eyes she understood. “I’m not being funny anymore. It’s time to go downstairs, and get cleaned up, and eat, and get some sleep. Tomorrow, if you want to go through that door and look around,” he sighed, “I guess we’ll go. We’ll back you up. But you need to rest—”
___“To hell with the door! I will defeat the magus tonight!” Portunista declared. Gaekwar’s eyes showed anger and frustration now. That was what she wanted to see!—that look that told her she was in command, that she was the most important…!
___She looked down and to her left. Jian was shaking his head, his own eyes narrowed, though not in fear or anger.
___“Gaekwar’s right, Commander…” Every time he called her that, she felt a blade-tip pierce her heart. He was mocking her…! “Tomorrow morning you’ll feel better, and then we’ll beat the magus’ traps for sure; and then—”
___“Tonight!” insisted Portunista. Jian couldn’t order her around! She was the commander! He said so, but she knew he didn’t mean it…! “Right now! You don’t have to do a thing! Just watch…just watch…”
___She turned to step away from the wall…she nearly stumbled over Jian, who still was sitting…why would he not move?! All he had to do was move…She would show him…
___Portunista ignored the way the landing tilted wildly in the flickering light, as she focused her intent. Gurgling, bubbling, she infused into the wall, left of the door, the right proportions of the elemental Yrthe.
___It took her longer than she had expected…she was so intensely tired…but she wouldn’t stop. She would show him…
___“Look,” she rasped. “I’ll show you. Do you see?”
___“Yes.” Jian sighed. “I see.” That was what she wanted to hear in his voice. Resignation. To the inevitability, of her. She smiled.
___He wasn’t smiling.
___She bound her jotting into place, barely, softening a swath of stones: an Yrthepool, in the wall.
___She exhaled through the curvature of her tongue behind her teeth, sharp as a small explosion. With a finger flick, her veckinesis pushed the mud; and further she exhaled, a tear pressed seeping out of an eye, spots gyrating blackly in her vision. But she would not stop, even to inhale…she would go through…
___The wall fell, wetly.
___There it was.
___The laboratory.
___She sent the wisp into it, where it shivered, dully, luminating secrets now exposed for her to take. She breathed the painful air, and blinked, and forced the vitalized stone to puddle inside on the floor.
___Finally. It was finished.
___She had won.
___Except—she still must enter the secret room, consummate her victory, justify her actions with success.
One step forward.
___Twice.
___…a rising whine, inaudible almost—sounding familiar—
___“Portunista, get back!” Jian was pushing, pushing her away, from her victory, from her prize—!
___Was that a fear she finally saw in his eyes…? Fear of her?
___fear…for…
___The silence and darkness crashed open with bright strobing bolts of materia, lancing from every quarter and also the center point, striking down from on high…
___—striking down on Jian—
___She heard him grunt with every hit. But he didn’t scream.
___He fell—before a bolt smashed into his face, she saw his eyes on her…no longer afraid…because she was safe…But he didn’t scream.
___She saw him crawl in lurches across the floor, dozens of bolts, hundreds of bolts, hammering down onto him. Away from her. But he didn’t scream.
___She saw him roll in a fetal ball behind a chair, seeking any cover from the relentless energy-storm that shattered the chair into kindling, lancing past it into him. But he didn’t scream.
___She saw him twitch and then lay still. The pentadarts continued pounding for another tick of time; then stopped.
___A single thread of smoke arose in a wavery line, from behind the wreck of the chair, breaking into curling shards.
___But Jian did not scream.
___She wanted to scream, for him. No, she didn’t want to scream. Her throat was sore. Her soul was sore. Hadn’t she just wished for this? Wasn’t it funny?
___She tried to laugh. She heard the whine, mixed with her broken laugh, and stepped to embrace and welcome—
___—the ragged hole jerked left, and she felt something, someone, wrapping her, cushioning her…
___…indeed with force but gently, enfolding her and twisting, the thunder rising in crescendo, puffs of air buffeting them, and then he grunted as she landed on him…
___“Jian…?” she heard her voice, as wavery as the smoke that had been rising from behind the chair…
___“No, ‘ista,”—a whisper she knew, had known before in moments of quiet happiness, but for which she no longer felt that feeling… “I’m Gaekwar. Quiet, ‘ista, shhhh…” Why was he saying that? She wasn’t crying. Was she?
___He turned her over slowly, as they lay upon the upward stairs, placing him between her and the landing.
___“Listen to me…Commander,” Gaekwar whispered. “Please be very quiet. If it chews the floor to pieces, we’ll have a harder time escaping.”
___She couldn’t make sense of anything he was saying. Maybe he could see it on her face, because…
___“Listen to me, Commander…are you listening? Whisper to me softly…”
___Too many things went through her mind at once, and she started giggling…a giggle like the distant scream of a ghost.
___“Okay,” he said, holding her close…
___And Portunista pounded the floor, with her right hand, over and over; with her left she clutched the back of Gaekwar’s fighting jacket.
___He held her close, so no one else would hear.
In narrative design that’s one way to bring things to a dramatic crux.