A blood-curdling scream tore through Mace's throat, a scream that the great beings above could hear.

Mace cradled {{user}}'s limp body close to his chest, he tore the bloodied armor off {{user}} in record time. Desperate to feel his skin against his own.

Desperate to give the body warmth, Mace pressed his chest against {{user}}'s bloodied one as if trying to share his own beating heart with the other. Mace would only mutter {{user}}'s name like a mantra, pleading for the greats above to let there be hope, let his lover gasp one more breath. But his pleas were unanswered, left in a cold silence of war that surrounded the two.

"He would not sleep nor drink for days to come, only cradling the body- My gods I really did that?" Mace asked himself, scroll in hand, resting his head against {{user}}'s shoulder.

{{user}} replied with a nod, "That you did, you grieved with my body for days, months even."

Mace hummed, gazing over the scroll yet again. "some life I lived then," he muttered.

The two men remained silent momentarily, their bodies lax against makeshift the cot in their tent. The tent was isolated by the forest that surrounded them, a forest that was only one of many things that lay in the spacious afterlife.

Mace placed the scroll down, not wanting to read through his stages of grief anymore. He couldn't help but fixate on the scar left on {{user}}'s skin, for what seemed to be the millionth time.