Felix stood where he was, looking at Ashura's turned back, wanting to scream or vomit or cry or even beg for him not to be angry, which was as craven and ridiculous as he felt. But in Paradisa everything was fleeting. He loved Ashura more than he could articulate. The man had given him everything. Had held him together when the castle had threatened to tear him apart at the seams. But he was not the quiet, scholarly, uncompromising, and fiercely intelligent man he had fallen for first. Perhaps even for the first time. He was not the man who guided him. Who had coaxed him off the edge of a bridge and gotten maimed as a result of trying to help a madman. And nothing he could do would change that.

In a quiet, unsteady voice, drained of his brief bout of anger, he finally says, "Chances are all we have here. Any of us could leave at any moment. Any chance can be wasted. But it is still a chance. I think you understand that. You'd feel the same thing if Yasha came here."

Reaching behind his collar with a finger, he drew out the long chain and the red stone pulsing with warm light. "There is one last thing. You gave this to me, and you should have the chance to take it back if you desire it. But...I'd like to keep it. The same as anything I've given remains a gift."