His mind was spinning. They were meant to do something. Not the work of thugs. Not murderers that were given a second chance at life to throw it away. He'd nearly killed himself. Twice. To save her. And she could so easily... she would so easily... how long had she known about the wood, and the stake, and the... Ao wanted them to do what? All of this was maddening to the point of near-obsession. Why would she do it? What possible reason could there be? There was so much he didn't know, and he was desperate to know, to finally see things as they were meant to be and not the way he could only cling to as he was spinning and losing his grip on all of it.
A potion.
They were between the covers. He was remembering something that never happened. He'd been close enough to burn on her skin, cold as her eyes could see, and he wanted to burn up against it. If she'd just held him, or he'd held her, things would have changed enormously. She might have understood what he saw and could not say to her. That this world deserved to be saved because everything in it was precious. One-of-a-kind. Even her. It was the reason he couldn't kill her, in that instant. Thinking and knowing that there would never be something else like her in the world. Knowing that, when she was gone, she would be....
A potion.
Skandra jerked to one side with a gasping sort of shout. Blood was slick on his fingertips. On his face. It was flowing freely from his shoulder. Something to stop the bleeding. That was all he could do. With his good hand, he was slapping and searching at his hip, looking for the strangely-shaped vial that held the secret to his survival. It was not to be found. He knew that it was near. Somewhere... close by. Close by.
"Here," Skandra wheezed.
The potion was forced into Aeotha's hands. He was trying to stay still. He couldn't see clearly. Couldn't breath. The potion was meant to be poured directly onto the wound. It would stop the bleeding, or at least slow it to a crawl, and that might save his life. Everything else was up to her and her skill with a needle. He couldn't kill Elemmire. Because he knew that if he did, he would be alone. Until the day that he died, he would be alone.
He thought that he would rather be dead. Yet he'd just saved his own life. There would be time to think about it later.