Human | 28 | 5'9" x 160 | M | Soldier

Terence tried his best not to be overwhelmed by emotions, even if he knew full well that this would not go any different from every single other episode of breathlessness he had faced before. That was until, much to his surprise, he felt Dion's hand. And then he heard his voice. And then he felt his lover's fingers thread with his own and then his forehead and his scent and his tears. It was all so different - enough for Terence to stop crying for a moment and just witness the events unfold in utter confusion.

Then he heard them. The words he had longed to hear ever since Dion had told him he would be left behind. Not now and not ever again. And these very words brought Terence to hesitantly use his free hand to cup the blonde's cheek. He gently rubbed it with his thumb. "Great Greagor.. It truly is you, isn't it?" He whispered. "My Dion." he went on as his hand slowly fell back down to rest. "My Prince." he continued, trembling, as his eyes watered once again and his voice cracked. "My love, my reason, my everything."

It took only one moment longer for him to throw himself on his lover's lips. He needed to feel him just as much as a breathless man would need air. Terence could not help but feel that Dion was the air to his drowning soul. And thus did he extend his hand again, letting his fingers run through his golden hair and then keeping him close by wrapping his arm around the man's shoulders. He would not dare let go of him until the pain from his wounds would be too much to bear. Even then, he would only wince and squeeze Dion's shoulder, perhaps a little (or more than a little) stronger than he had intended - for what strength he could use, at least.

He would not let go unless forced to. He could not bear another illusion, another separation. It didn't matter if this all felt different, it didn't matter if something deep within his soul was telling him this was all real. He could not bear to wake up and find out he had dreamed it all yet another time. He refused. He refused to let go.

He would never let go again.

Human | 28 | 5'9" x 160 | M | Soldier

It is.. not easy, to go on after someone dear passed away. This, Terence knew all to well. There was this constant ache in his chest, that often took his breath away. It made him feel weak, his body heavier than it should and terribly stiff. At times, he would even lose consciousness because of these sudden attacks of pain and breathlessness. Yet he tried. He tried with all he had to keep on going. He knew that, when the time came, his deeply adored Prince would come for him.

Although he did come visit him in dreams every single night.

At times he would see him happy, alive and well, and they would love each other like many other times before. But then he would wake, and know it could never happen again. Other times, he simply tended to his wounds, only to wake up and know that if he hadn't let him go, his wounds would not have been fatal that day. He would not have died.

Yet again, Terence could not do that to him. He could not beg him to stay, not more than he had done. Not after he heard just how much Dion wanted to use his own strength, and his strength alone, to atone for what he had done while controlled by Ultima. He could only wait, knowing his lover would be in grave danger, but hoping he still would defy fate and reunite with him. And then he heard of the fall of Bahamut. And Dion never came back.

What was he supposed to do? Dion would never forgive him for taking his own life. So, no matter how strongly he longed for him, no matter how dreadful it was to live, he would stay. He had to. Dion had entrusted that girl to him, and although it was incredibly hard to even just lay there and exist most of the times, he could not let himself go, in honor of his love. No matter how scary, destabilizing and generally terrible it was to be without him. For him, he would endure it all.

---

His thoughts had been breathtaking for the entire day, enough for him to be unable to calm down. He had fainted in the middle of nowhere after one of his usual episodes of breathlessness. After he awakened, feeling heavy and with his lungs and chest aching, he dragged himself back "home". He had been lucky, as it was getting dark and some wild beast could have found him while unconscious. One part of him wished it had, but only for a moment. He shook his head to let the thought fade away.

When he arrived home, he had no strength or will to do anything. He tried to force himself to eat some of the soup the girl had left for him, but it did not manage to stay inside his stomach for long. He ran outside, and coughed up his entire being onto the ground. As soon as his stomach finally settled, he did his best to drag himself back in once again. He washed his mouth with some water, then laid on his bed. He would not sleep -he did not want to-, but at least perhaps he could rest. His mind wandered to his lost lover.

Months had passed, and the pain was still as vivid as the first day. Like having a knife stuck in his chest. He wanted to resent Dion, he would have preferred to hate him and stop suffering, but he just couldn't. He loved him, and he could do nothing about it. He could only keep dragging himself onwards. For Dion, for the girl.. for.. something. The must be something worth living for, even without him. He just could not find it yet.

He ended up crying himself to sleep like many other times before. Had he known he was about to fall into slumber, he would have been terrified. Yet he opened his eyes without even knowing when he had closed them.

The surroundings were unfamiliar to him. Slowly, he sat up, looking around. What an odd dream. He had never dreamt of such a place before, nor did he recall ever seeing it. But as he was wondering about this, he heard a voice. "Do not touch me, savage." The man said. Terence stood, and looked around. Two people were standing not too far from him, looking at each other. One was a tall, blonde man that looked extremely large - and perhaps even dangerous. He was well-dressed, clearly in a nobleman's garments.On the other side of him, there was a woman with dark hair and eyes, in a green dress. A little suggestive, perhaps. Could she be working in a brothel? Well, it did not matter.

Terence quickly walked closer and positioned himself between the two as soon as he saw the giant reach out for his scythe. Only in that moment did he notice he was wearing his armour. When had he put it on? Well, no matter. He stood before the blonde, locking eyes with him, and getting an icy cold stare in return. He would have to speak, so he forced himself to. "I will not allow you to harm this civilian!" said Terence, one hand already at the hilt of his sword. "She is not even armed!" He continued.

The man moved his gaze to the woman, then back to him. "I have only warned her." said the blonde "She would bore me.""Bore..?" Terence was confused. What exactly did the stranger mean? "No matter. Your hand has reached for your weapon. It was not a warning." The blonde sighed just slightly. "Are you supposed to be a soldier of sorts? Do you plan on boring me to death?" But Terence denied, and straightened his posture. "No. I am Sir Terence Beaufoy, Lieutenant of the Holy Order of Knights Dragoon of Sanbreque. And if you dare lay hands on the civilian behind me, I will fight you. You won't harm her as long as I draw breath."

He had to. It was his first instinct to help those in need. And Dion would never forgive him for allowing someone to get hurt when he could easily help. But oh, how wrong he was in hoping to be at the giant's level, and how quickly he understood he should not have intervened. This he realized the very moment the blonde curved his lips in the slightest hint of a smile. "Good. You want to fight." He said, then he took a couple of steps backwards and drew the scythe. "Let us fight, then. And do not disappoint me."

Terence drew his sword and shivered. There was something in that man's eyes. Something ominous, dark and terrifying. Even just the pressure he was putting on the soldier was enough for him to think that man was actually not human. A dominant, perhaps? He would not have a chance against one... But he could not waver, he could not yield. He had not managed to protect the love of his life, so he had to at the very least potect the innocent. Even at the cost of his own life, should it be necessary to let the woman have the time to escape.

He told the civilian to go, and prepared himself to dodge any attacks that giant may throw at him. But he did not even see it. The man slashed at the air, and Terence felt the blow on his armor without even noticing whatever had hit him. He widened his eyes. How? He was way too far to hit him with that weapon. Was it magic? Wind, perhaps? He had no time to think about it. He needed to get close, quickly, or he would be in a huge disadvantage. So he darted towards him, weapon in hand, attempting to dodge the man's slashes simply by getting out of his attacks' arc.

It worked. It worked, all the way, until Terence attempted to slash at the stranger. The man took a firm hold on his wrist with apparently no effort at all. Terence was startled for a moment, as the man pulled him upwards, then kicked him away. He did not land well, and hit both his back and his head against he didn't even want to know what. Still, he stood. He could not falter, he could not let the man do as he pleased. No matter the dizziness, no matter the pain.

"Is this your all?" Asked the blonde "Disappointing. I expected more from such a boastful warrior." But in reply, Terence attempted another attack. The stranger slipped away, and swiftly slashed at his exposed back, piercing through the armor, and at the very least his skin. He felt as if he was still in training. A squire. Perhaps even less. His body was stiff, his reflexes slow. How long had it been since he last had a proper fight? "You will not harm her!" He almost shouted, but at that point the blonde just raised an eyebrow."Harm who?" He said, and the absurd thing was that he truly seemed to have forgotten. "It is you who have become my prey. Come hither."

After those words, he slashed at Terence with three full blows: one from the bottom right upwards, then one horizontally from the left, and finally he rotated the scythe above his head and let it fall down upon the soldier's chest in a motion opposite to the first, piercing both his armor and his flesh. He carved a deep line from Terence's right shoulder to his left side, and the sanbrequian soldier could barely even react: he could only step backwards just enough not to be quite literally torn apart. But he was wounded, and gravely.

He fell on his knees, breathless, the pain unbearable, as the man attached the scythe to his back once again. "You truly are a disappointment. But no matter. I will find someone else to fight." he looked at the soldier for a long moment, then turned away. "Hm. The stubbornness not to die is not entirely without value. These wounds should not kill you, if you treat them quickly." he said, and then he started walking away. Terence gathered his strength and stood, ready to attack him again, but he did not have enough to lift his blade. The stranger, instead, simply left without even looking anyone in the eyes. As if it didn't bother him at all, and it was none of his concern. As if he didn't care he was the one who put him in that state.

He held on. He could not fall into slumber, or he knew full well it would have been the last time. The pain was too real for it all to be a dream. He needed to find shelter. A healer. Something. He gathered whatever strength he had left and started walking towards the settlement, as he could not stay where he was. The woman he had saved ran to call for a healer, and another person -at this point he could not even see properly, everything was turning into a blur of colorful dots- attempted to help him stay on his feet. He walked, and walked, and walked. To where? He did not know. But he could not yield. He could not yield. He could not yield.

Yet no matter how hard he tried to hold onto the thought of his lover to find the strength, there were things that prayer and determination alone could not do. So he raised his head one more time, the mirage of his lover standing far ahead of him. As he raised his arm to reach him, though, his legs failed him and he fell to the ground. He could barely feel someone's hands turn him around, and voices and faces - so, so many. But amidst all of them, in the delirium that clouded his mind as his soul wandered closer and closer to death's embrace, one was clear to him -and one alone. The love of his life. He could see him right before his eyes, smiling and warming his heart as only he could do.

"Finally.." Terence whispered, with a soft smile painted on his lips "You've finally.. come to take me.. my love." He looked into his eyes, brimming with happiness even though he did not have enough strength to show it. "At long last.." He tried his best to stay awake. Only to be able to look at him for a moment longer. But his body could not hold on any longer. "Together.. Again." He whispered peacefully, his voice almost inaudible, before his consciousness faded away.