Eraphim took the last piece of his armour off and added it to the pile on his bed.

   It was too eerily quiet.

   Sairon lost his patience. "HAVE YOU COMPLETELY LOST YOUR MIND?!" He roared. He tossed the nearest chair in Eraphim's current residence against the furthest wall. It broke into pieces upon impact with a burst of dark-red magic and the splintering of wood.

   "He spoke of Rinaren! I couldn't let him dishonour his memory!" Eraphim shouted.

   "You ATTACKED a contender after a match! You broke the rules!"

   "I wasn't aware it was a rule!"

   "It's common sense!"

   "Not for me!"

   Sairon charged at him with a roar of annoyance and frayed patience, then stopped at the last possible second with demon claws made of flaming scales an inch from his neck. "Argh! Y-you little—It is very tempting to destroy you and your pathetic soul!"

   "The feeling is mutual right now, Demon!"

   Sairon sputtered and whipped his claws back to his sides where the flaming scales  extinguished and became slim fingers again. "You're such an imbecile! GET OUT!"

   "These are my rooms!"

   Sairon roared and clawed at his black hair, which was tied up in a loose bun, causing it to tangle messily around his fuming-red face.

   He stormed out of the room and slammed the wooden door infused with black stone closed, leaving a burnt handprint ingrained into the handle.

   Eraphim growled at the door and used his magic to repair the shattered chair (which happened to be his favourite in the entire room), and; satisfied, pushed it back in towards the study table.

  Cooling his temper, he slowly assessed his accommodations again. Black walls streaked with painted golden branches; a desk and ornate chair with a blue cushion sewn in (the one Sairon had destroyed); a four post bed with lavish sheets, even though the dead didn't need to sleep that often unless they wanted to; a closed bathing door where the typical washing basin and soaps were; and a beautiful stone balcony with a view of the black sky and black lands in the Under Realm. How lovely, and boring.

   Eraphim was allowed to stay in these rooms 'until his soul was destroyed in the Trial of the Fade or until he was returned to life,' as stated by Sairon. Either way, Sairon had made sure Eraphim knew he was only a guest here before beginning their shouting match.

   Someone suddenly knocked on the door.

   Fate help him if it's Sairon again.

   "What?!" Eraphim barked, choosing to deny Sairon entry and taking a much-needed seat on the desk chair, looking around for a drink.

   A calming voice spoke lightly through the door. "It's just me. Ingresh...we were on the same team earlier."

   Eraphim's heart skipped a beat. And was he imagining the added briskness in his gait as he strode towards the door?

   He wrapped his hand lightly around the handle and pulled it towards him, revealing Ingresh and his innocent smile. The Light Court captain had taken his armour off and now wore a casual blue tunic and grey pants.

   "Hello, Eraphim."

   Eraphim sighed and scrubbed a hand down his face. "Is this about earlier? When I lost control in the arena? Because I already heard the lecture from Sairon."

   "Lecture? No, Fate no—do you want to talk about it with me?"

   "No."

   Ingresh let out his lovers laugh and peered inside his room. "Elegant. Not too dark, I like it."

   Eraphim growled and made to slam the door in his annoying face. Ingresh must have sensed his annoyance as he quickly said: "—Sparring. Would you like to spar with me? If you've nothing else to do. All the surviving contenders are free to do as they please until the next match."

   Silence.

  "...sure."

   Eraphim stepped out and closed the door behind him. Ingresh gave him a small smile, eyes flitting down and a bemused look crossing his face as he glanced at Sairon's handprint. He shook himself and led the way to the training grounds, letting out a relieved breath he tried to hide as Eraphim followed.

   Once there, Eraphim immediately summoned a golden sword and gave it a practice swing. He needed to keep his body in shape, even when dead.

   Control your magic this time. It's Ingresh, don't hurt him.

   Ingresh whistled nearby and summoned a light-red sword of his own, then sank into a casual fighting stance.

   "One question before we start," Ingresh said.

   Eraphim sank into the same stance, one foot behind and weight equally balanced. "Ask away."

   "Why are you competing in the Trial of the Fade?"

   "For Rinaren."

   "Yes I figured that out, but what does that mean."

   "I intend to fight with him against Arwinan. What about you?"

   Ingresh ignored his question and spun his sword. "Why do you fight still? You have already played your part in the Dark Realm. You can rest now and enjoy yourself."

   This brought on a tumult of anger because Ingresh didn't understand him. "Because until Arwinan pays for what he did to Rinaren, I cannot rest."

   Ingresh halted, sword stopping mid-air. "I shouldn't have told you that."

   "Well you did. And I am forever grateful."

   Silence.

   "...I'm sending you to your demise," he whispered. He suddenly stepped back, sword disappearing from his hand. "I'm sorry, Eraphim. I can't do this."

   Eraphim gripped his sword handle until his knuckles were white. Don't leave. "Do what?"

   "This. Talk to you, spar with you, knowing that you're here and might have your soul destroyed because I told you something I shouldn't have."

   "Ingresh, you don't get to decide what I do."

   "I shouldn't have told you about Rinaren."

   "It was my right to know!"

   Ingresh began to step out of the sparring circle. Don't leave.

   Eraphim charged him, shouting.

   Ingresh reacted subconsciously and summoned his sword, blocking his strike.

   And was he smiling?

   "You truly are a warrior," Ingresh marveled.

   Eraphim responded by breaking their standoff and sweeping Ingresh's legs out from under him.

   Ingresh reacted like a trained warrior and jumped over Eraphim's arcing foot, swiping down with his sword and instinctively dodging when Eraphim sent a shield smashing into his sword hand.

   And then they were flying across the sparring circle, exchanging strikes and parries in a blink, then breaking away. Magic flashed, shields and weapons were conjured and broken.

   Eraphim has never felt so gleeful in his life. He was laughing as Ingresh deflected his magic back at him at the same time his sword sheered towards his side.

   Ingresh laughed too in pure enjoyment when Eraphim easily dodged. The sparring and euphoria went on for a few minutes until Eraphim finally managed to hook his foot around Ingresh's ankle and pull him forward just enough to tip him off balance for a split second.

   That was all he needed before Ingresh was on the ground with Eraphim's knee on his stomach, golden sword hovering just above his neck, and Eraphim's magic lashing him down.

   Ingresh looked startled. "I-what? You won?"

   Eraphim let out a breathy laugh. "You seem surprised."

   "I never lose."

   "I beg to disagree. You made a rookie mistake."

   "I was caught up in the moment." He was grinning up at Eraphim with an emotion Eraphim couldn't place in his eyes.

   And all Eraphim could do was grin back and stare into those uniquely stunning golden-red eyes.

   "Can I get up now?"

   Eraphim startled, then willed his sword to vanish before getting off of Ingresh and offering him a hand. He accepted it and Eraphim hoisted him up. They were nearly chest-to-chest.

   Ingresh willed his sword to disappear as well and rubbed the back of his neck. "Um..."

   "Good match. I needed it." Eraphim made to leave.

   Ingresh caught his arm, stopping Eraphim as he looked down at Ingresh's hand grasping his wrist.

   "Don't go." It came out desperate. Ingresh winced at the way his voice sounded.

   "You'll see me later. Assuming our Dark Court friend isn't bold enough to try and assassinate me during what is considered night here."

   "I meant—"

   Eraphim turned towards him and gently stroked his cheek, but not out of formality. Fate, what was happening to him!

   "I will see you later." A promise.

   Ingresh nodded infinitesimally. Eraphim made to leave, lightly tugging his arm out of Ingresh's iron-rod hold.

   Ingresh merely tightened his grip. Eraphim turned back around to gently tell him to let go, mouth opening.

   And then Ingresh kissed him.

   —And it was the purest feeling Eraphim had ever experienced.