So, I recently re-watched Half-Blood Prince and ... holy cow Severus in this movie! Alan Rickman is a god! Had to write this. AU of course XD

I wrote this in Italian and then translated it, so I probably made more errors than usual. Translations are tricky: I keep thinking in my own language instead of English. Sorry.

I do not own Harry Potter.

Severus is who I need.

Harry ran along the empty corridors, the once friendly shadows were now malevolent depictions of his nightmares. Snape. He had to get Snape. He didn't care about anything else, his mind fixed on a single, barely whispered, request: " Severus is who I need. Wake him. Tell him what happened. Speak to no one else".

Harry had promised. He had given his word to the Headmaster. He had promised to execute his every order without asking questions, even if it meant going against his own believes. As much as he didn't like Snape, as much as he didn't trust him… the Headmaster did. And he had promised.

Your word, Harry.

My word.

And so he ran. The sound of his footsteps rumbled in the castle, bouncing against sleepy stone walls. Harry couldn't hear it. Just as he couldn't hear the echo of his gasping breathing, the frantic beating of his heart pounding in his chest.

Severus. Severus is who I need.

Dumbledore's words echoed in his mind, like boulders of a landslide showing no sign of stopping. He had to run faster than the rumbling falling of his hope. He had to get to the dungeons. Quickly. Faster. Faster!

At the end of the corridor he turned right so fast that he slipped on the damp floor and fell violently slamming his side to the ground. A groan escaped his clenched teeth. His right shoulder burst on fire, as if thousands of matches had lit up sizzling in his bones. Harry squeezed his shoulder with his other hand and he stood up trembling. He leant against the wall. God, that hurt!

He allowed himself a few seconds to catch his breath. The pain seemed to subside a little as his burning lungs refreshed themselves in slow, deep breaths. Harry looked around. Relief invaded him as he realized where he was, he actually felt as if someone had taken him up in his arms: he had reached the entrance to the dungeons. Snape's office was just around the corner.

With a deep breath, he forced himself to move away from the wall. He gritted his teeth and ran again. He was almost there. Almost there...

Severus. Severus is who I need.

Almost there... almost there...

Wake him. Tell him what happened.

There it was! The door to Snape's office. Harry didn't waste time knocking. He threw himself at the black door, grabbed the handle and... sbam!

Harry slammed against the solid wood of the closed door. His shoulder exploded again in pain and he fell backwards moaning. He squeezed his shoulder tightly. He looked up at the closed door and felt warm tears form in his eyes. No. No. Why was the door closed? Why was the door closed? Whywasthedoorclosed!?

Panic assailed him. He got up from the ground and threw himself at the door growling in anger and despair. He started slamming his fists repeatedly against the wood ignoring the screams of pain of his shoulder. Tears were now falling freely from his eyes, leaving warm silver trails on the dirty skin where the heat of the fire storm still lingered.

"Professor!" he called. "Professor, open the door!"

Nothing.

"Please, Professor!"

Bam! Bam! Bam! His fists banged repeatedly against the door.

"Professor Snape!"

Bam! Bam! Bam! Smack!

He kicked the door angrily. Around him, the castle faded into nothingness. There was nothing but that damned door and the only person who could help the Headmaster standing on the other side. He kept on banging and calling. And banging and calling. Dumbledore had told him to fetch Snape. Dumbledore needed Snape!

"Please, Professor!" he called again. He did not acknowledged the figure staring at him from the other end of the corridor. The Bloody Baron floated up to the desperate boy who was trying to knock down the door of the Slytherin Head's office with the sheer force of his desperation.

"Lad", the Baron said when he was close enough.

Harry didn't even look at him, totally unaware of his presence. He was completely in panic. Dumbledore was hurt. Dumbledore was hurting and waiting alone on top of the bloody Astronomy Tower and he was there screaming at a door that wouldn't open. It wouldn't open. Snape would not go to Dumbledore. He had failed. He had disappointed the Headmaster. Dumbledore had trusted him. He had entrusted himself to Harry and Harry could not even open a door ... he could not even wake his teacher up... what if Dumbledore was… what if he was -

"Potter?"

The voice wasn't real. He was imagining it. Tears fell relentlessly down his cheeks. There was a weight crushing his chest, preventing him from breathing. He forced himself to calm down. He had to calm down. There had to be a way to get into that office ... there had to be ... a way ...

In despair, he did not even realize that he had slipped to the ground and he was now sitting with his back against the slimy wall.

"Harry!"

That voice again. Just this time… Harry... someone had used his first name... someone was… He looked up and his moist eyes found themselves staring into worried black ones.

Harry needed a moment to realize that the kneeling figure in front of him was in fact Professor Snape. He was fully dressed and was looking at him with a mixture of concern and incredulity on his sallow face. A silver figure hovered behind him a few centimeters above the ground.

Harry felt himself glowing inside. Snape! Snape was here! He wiped away his tears quickly. Panic, anguish… all forgotten. He would never have thought he'd be so happy to see Snape!

"Professor!" he exclaimed. Then he began to churn out so many words together that he himself was struggling to keep up with his tongue. Snape raised his hand asking him to stop talking.

"Potter!" he said, "Potter!" Harry immediately shut up.

"Few words" Snape said to him, "clear and concise if you don't mind".

Harry swallowed. His mouth was dry and his nose obstructed by mucus. "Dumbledore", he said, "he's hurt. He sent me to find you".

Snape jumped up from the ground as if someone had just given him the charge with a spring key. He turned to the Bloody Baron.

"Baron," he said hastily in a tone that wouldn't admit arguments, "go to Slytherin House, make sure Draco Malfoy is there. And that he stays there. Seal the entrance if you have to. Keep all the students safe". The ghost did not say a word, he bent his head slightly in acknowledgement then floated away disappearing through the wall.

Snape turned to Harry, still curled up against the wall. For a moment, that boy sitting on the ground was no longer Potter, he was no longer the Chosen One, the son of his school nemesis... for a moment it was just Harry. Just Harry. Snape was surprised by that thought, but looking at that boy with the cheeks encrusted by tears, struggling to find his breath, he couldn't avoid feeling empathy. Potter was terrified. He was desperate. And yet what scared Severus most was that the boy was afraid for the Headmaster. He was terrified by the thought of losing Albus , just as Severus had been months before when he found Dumbledore in his office passed out on his chair, barely breathing. Yes, Severus had been scared then... more scared than he had ever been. Now he saw the same fear in Harry's green eyes. He bent down and grabbed the boy by the right arm. Harry moaned.

"Come on, Potter", said Severus harshly . What the hell happened to his arm? Had it happened with Albus? He didn't catch much from the flood of words that had come out of the boy's mouth. "Get up".

Harry stood up reluctantly. He was tired. He was sore. And he had warned Snape. Why couldn't he stay there?

"You can't stay here", Snape said, helping him to stand. "Take me to Albus", he added.

The journey back to the Astronomy Tower was a torture for Harry. He was exhausted. His bones ached, his shoulder burned like hell and he felt like his head was full of water and sawdust that kept slamming against the walls of his skull at every step. Beside him, Snape did his best to support him, his hand placed under his armpit preventing him from melting to the ground like a pudding.

"Tell me again what happened, Potter", Snape said trying to shake him from his catalepsy.

"We journeyed to this cave..." Harry's mouth was dry and his voice thick, "Dumbledore said he had found another one of Voldemort's horcruxes."

"Don't say his name", Snape snapped before he could prevent himself. "Horcruxes?" he repeated.

"They're..." Harry ran his tongue over his lips, "they're objects where one puts part of -"

"I know what a Horcrux is!" Severus interrupted him. Suddenly everything was clear. The hours the Headmaster spent with Potter in his office. His mysterious journeys. The ring that Dumbledore had worn recklessly in late summer. Tom Riddle's journal resting on the desk when he had entered the Headmaster's office. The sword of Gryffindor still clutched in Albus' hand. Horcuxes. The sword... the sword forged by the goblins, the sword with which Potter had stabbed a basilisk. All the pieces of the puzzle moved to their rightful place, fitting perfectly in his mind.

Severus suddenly felt himself being dragged down. Potter had stumbled on the steps of the tower and had clung to his shoulder so as not to fall. He intensified his grip under the boy's arm and helped him find his balance back.

"Are you hurt?" he asked, and cursed himself for not asking him earlier. The boy was certainly worn out, but he had moaned in pain when he had first grabbed him in the dungeons. Maybe he too had been injured in the battle against the Horcrux. They were tremendously dangerous and treacherous objects, if Potter and the Headmaster had tried to destroy it, it had surely fought back. Idiot, Severus!

Harry, however, shook his head.

"What did you do to your arm?" Severus asked him then.

"I fell," said Harry laconically.

"You fell?"

"As I ran to come and look for you."

Severus could not restrain a smile. "Hours spent with the Headmaster trying to destroy a Horcrux, with traps and pitfalls, risking your lives... and you do yourself more harm by running in the school corridors?" he said.

Harry smiled. "You're right, sir", he said, "I really am an idiot."

"That's for sure", Severus agreed , but his smile, like Harry's, vanished in an instant when he saw what awaited them at the top of the tower.

The wind up there was cold, so cold that Harry wondered if it was its actual temperature or it was because his blood had frozen in his veins. He felt Professor Snape stiffen to his left. The tower was deserted. Only the night dozed among the golden instruments of astronomy lessons, listening to the lullaby of the wind. The storm clouds had open showing stars shining like never before in the black sky, the moon was just an apostrophe in the sky, a sign indicating something hidden.

Albus Dumbledore was curled up against the pedestal of the great bronze astrolabe. Wrapped in his purple cloak to shelter himself from the wind, his silvery beard swaying in its coils, the Headmaster was laying on his side, left arm embracing his unmoving body. He seemed to be asleep.

But Harry knew he wasn't.

Severus let go of the boy's arm and rushed towards Dumbledore. The fear he had felt months ago had returned, more powerful and darker than before. He knelt beside the Headmaster's motionless figure, his heart pounding in his chest. Gently he brushed the hair from Dumbledore's face and rested a hand on his neck. Albus' skin was cold and moist and Severus could feel a very slight tremor under his fingertips.

"Albus?" he whispered. "Albus , it's me. I'm here". The old Headmaster showed no sign of having heard him.

Snape shifted into a more comfortable position on the stone floor. He moved his hand from Dumbledore's neck to his chest, feeling it rising slowly pushed by the faint breath. He noticed Potter approaching them. The boy stopped a few paces away.

"Albus?" Severus repeated, "It's all right". The words aimed to convince himself more than console the unconscious wizard.

He pulled out his wand and passed it slowly on his mentor's body. A delicate greenish light glowed from the tip softly illuminating the Headmaster's motionless figure. Harry watched him frightened and intrigued. He had never seen Snape in the guise of a healer. He would never have imagined him performing the same gestures Madam Pomfrey did, with the same care and the same professionalism.

"Harry?" Snape's voice roused him from his thoughts. The professor was waving him over. Harry complied and leaned over.

"Help me get him sit up", Snape told him . With no small effort, Harry helped Snape bring Dumbledore into a sitting position.

"Stay behind him," Snape said , "make him lean onto you."

"Ok". Harry sat down against the astrolabe and held Dumbledore in his arms. Would it been any other time, he would have find the situation absurd. The Headmaster's long hair tickled his face, and he could hear the rasping of his gasping breath.

Snape had meanwhile resumed running his wand up and down the Headmaster's body, this time murmuring spells that Harry couldn't understand.

"Will he be okay, Professor?" he could not help asking.

Snape interrupted the chant and looked at him.

Severus looked at Harry's green eyes and saw new tears sparkling in them. But he also found hope. For the first time, he saw trust. Trust in him.

"You can cure him, can't you Professor?", Harry asked again. "You'll fix everything". The boy nodded answering his own question. He sounded so certain, so strongly trying to convince himself that Severus didn't have the heart to tell him the truth. For the truth was that there are things that cannot be fixed. Albus Dumbledore was fading away. Albus was slipping through his fingers.

"Severus... ?"

The rasping voice of the Headmaster diverted their attention on him.

Severus immediately lowered his gaze. Albus was looking at him and there was the ever slight smile on his lips, hidden under his moustache. Suddenly Severus realized he could breathe again.

"I'm here", Severus said, "Harry's here too." He added, anticipating Albus' question. The Headmaster smiled openly. "Ah", he whispered, "have I ever… told you… not… to read my mind?"

"I don't read your mind, Headmaster", Severus said, "I just know you too well".

Dumbledore tried to pull himself up a little, but after a weak effort he fell helplessly against Harry's chest.

"It's all right, sir", said Harry.

"What happened, Albus ?" Severus asked.

"A... potion... " Dumbledore rasped.

"Potion?" this time Severus asked the question to Harry, who looked back at him.

"I had to make him drink it," said Harry, almost trying to justify himself, "I'd given him my word". A puff of wind enveloped them.

"What kind of potion? What effect did it have?" Snape asked.

"I ... " Harry stammered, "I think ... I don't know… it looked like he was reliving very bad memories ... or ... or having terribile visions."

Severus' eyes narrowed, mentally going through all the potions he knew that could have such effects. Obviously he could not expect a detailed description of the symptoms from Potter.

"Severus ..." the Headmaster's feeble voice drew his attention. Severus squeezed the Headmaster's shoulder harder. He was there. He was there and would not leave him. This was what his eyes said when he looked at Albus .

"Oh... and he was thirsty afterward" Harry quickly added meanwhile .

"What colour was it?" Severus asked the boy. He felt Dumbledore's hand grasping his robes tightly, as if they were the only foothold left on a smooth wall keeping him from falling into oblivion. Harry didn't answer, too worried by the Headmaster's sudden shortness of breath to realize that he had just been asked a question.

"Potter!" Snape shook him, the boy looked at him surprised. "What colour was the potion?"

"Ah ... some kind of murkish blackish black," Harry replied.

Severus nodded, despite Potter's wonderful display of dictionary. It was a potion that could only be found in the darkest and rarest books of magic. A potion intended for torture. It had many designations, the Drink of Despair was one of them. It evoked terrible visions in the mind of those who drank it without leaving any type of damage to the body. That's what Albus had drunk. What Potter had forced him to drink. It was a poison and an antidote to itself. When its effects ceased it left only a terrible thirst behind. The worst was over, but the Headmaster was totally exhausted and given the conditions he was already in...

Severus lowered his wand and tried to help the Headmaster into a more upright and comfortable position. Albus clung tightly to him, the hand that previously clutched his shoulder moved as the Headmaster put his arm around his shoulders and pulled Severus towards him, as if he wanted to hold him close. Severus felt Albus' long fingers caress his strands of black hair.

"Severus ..." Dumbledore called again. Severus understood and conjured a silver glass with a quick movement of his hand.

It was such a fast and silent magic that Harry at first wondered if Snape carried glasses in his pockets. Harry saw the cup filling up with crystal clear water as Snape gently brought it to Dumbledore's lips. Very gently, Snape helped him drink in small sips. Dumbledore raised his right hand and placed it on top of Snape's as if to assist him in his movements. Slowly, Dumbledore drank.

"Why didn't you take me with you?" Severus asked. He could have made a difference. He could have helped him sooner, could have prevented him to go through all this… if only Albus had shared with him his researches, his suspicions… if only Albus had told him where he was going… if only Albus had trusted him.

Albus let his hand drop to his side again, his breath slightly more fluid. But when the Headmaster's hand left his, Severus saw blood. Blood staining his skin, growing colder and colder under the wind.

Concerned, he looked for where the red liquid was seeping from. He found out when he took Albus' hand in his and turned it palm upwards. A deep cut crossed Dumbledore's palm. A cut that still oozed warm blood. Severus frowned. He didn't look at Harry. He didn't need to ask the young Gryffindor : he knew what that meant. A blood payment. He sighed.

With light movements, Severus lifted Dumbledore's right arm. Gently, he rolled up his sleeve to reveal the burnt black skin. It was as he feared: the curse had expanded, the rot almost reached the elbow. Albus' weakened state had allowed the curse to regain strength.

He pointed his wand at the cut and whispered: "Ferula". White bandages wrapped Dumbledore's hand.

Severus looked into Albus' eyes. The blue eyes that used to shine mischievously behind the half-moon glasses, which sparkled amused every time Dumbledore had good-naturedly scolded him for his temper... those eyes that looked offended at him whenever Severus beat him at chess (which was very often)... those eyes that had looked upon him with pride... those eyes were now dull and opaque.

"Don't…" Albus said, "tell me how bad it is. I can live without knowing".

Severus smirked. "Next time you go chasing after a Dark Lord's piece of soul", he said, "make sure you have someone with you who could be of actual help". He said it in what he meant to be a lighthearted way, even if the hurt he felt inside for Albus' lack of trust was so very heavy.

Harry looked at him offended.

"I couldn't risk losing you, Severus", Albus' voice was little more than whisper.

"You could have least told me about the horcruxes", said Snape.

Albus shook his head. "You're too close to Tom, Severus", he said, "If he ever-"

"The hell with Riddle!" Severus snapped. Harry looked at him astonished. Was that the same man who had snapped at him for using Voldemort's name just a few minutes ago? Because right now, Snape didn't look afraid of Voldemort at all. He watched his two teachers as he felt more and more uncomfortable. He shouldn't be there, something inside him told him this was a very private conversation he shouldn't listen to… but he was there and he certainly couldn't vanish in the air as much as he wanted to.

"You think I would not have been good enough to keep this from him?", Snape was still talking, "Do you really have such a low opinion of me, Headmaster? I could have helped, precisely why I'm so close to him. Why didn't you trust me?"

Albus' eyes glowed with tenderness. He smiled. "I guess…", he said, "I persisted on searching for the Horcuxes alone. I didn't want to endanger anyone else… anymore".

"You endangered Potter by taking him to that cave!" Snape exclaimed gesturing at Harry, who by then believed the other two had completely forgot about his presence.

"I needed someone with me…" Albus said, "Couldn't do it alone this time". Snape was about to reply when Dumbledore anticipated him.

"Don't", he said, "I couldn't trust you as I could trust Harry this time… he promised to obey my every order. Which included bring harm to me if needed. You would have never do that. Severus, you would have never forced me to drink that potion".

"Of course I would have not!" Snape exclaimed, the he moved to help the Headmaster to get up on his feet. Harry was suddenly pulled into action again as he struggled under the Headmaster weight trying to push him up. Dumbledore clutched strongly on Snape, his arm firm around the Potions Master's shoulders while he used the other to lean on Harry.

"Let's take the conversation somewhere warmer", Snape said as he moved toward the staircase taking Albus and Harry with him.

Just before they could start walking down the steps, noises came from below. Harry jumped as a loud rumble echoed from the castle's corridors. He looked at Snape worried.

"What's going on?" he asked.

"Bella chose the worst time to attack the school", Snape answered. His eyes had lost the glow of concern and they now shone as sharp as blades. He knew they were coming. They had wasted time atop that wretched tower! Now they were trapped!

"Ah", Dumbledore moistened his dry lips, "you could say anything against dear Bellatrix, but she really has timing!"

She did, Harry thought. And by the sound of footsteps approaching, the Death Eaters were climbing the tower right now. They had to get away from there. But with Dumbledore in that st-

Crack!

Harry fell like a stone on a cold floor. Something was crushing him on the ground. He tried to free himself, and it took him a while to realize that the thing that kept him trapped against the ground was the Headmaster's body.

Harry looked around, his surroundings slowly took shape. He was in a small room with no windows, the walls covered with bookshelves laden with books. A few candles slightly taller than a stump spread a strange orange light, the wax dripping in long stalactites from the pewter candlesticks, like tears crystallized over time. There was also a black wooden table, an armchair and a bed still perfectly made. Snape's private quarters.

"Professor?" said Harry, sliding from under the Headmaster's body. He sat next to him, one hand clasped to Dumbledore's clothes. The Headmaster's face was gray, the deep shadows of his wrinkles made his absence of expression even more ghostly.

"Professor?" Harry shook him, terribly frightened that he wouldn't move anymore.

"He's just passed out", said Snape's deep voice . "He used his last energies to bring us here."

The Potions teacher knelt on the other side of the Headmaster. Again he murmured some mysterious spells, passing his wand over Dumbledore's motionless body. Harry watched him carefully. He had never seen Snape so... human. He could feel his concern for Dumbledore. Snape was just as scared as he was.

Commotion again. Voices. This time it came from above his head. Even Snape looked up the ceiling.

"You are safe," Snape told him. "They wouldn't come looking for you or the Headmaster here".

Harry didn't immediately understand what he meant. Him and the Headmaster? What about Snape?

Snape took no notice of his confused expression. Maybe he didn't catch it, or maybe, and more plausibly, he chose to ignore it.

With a flourish of his wand Severus levitated the unconscious Headmaster on the bed. He sat down next to him. There was nothing more he could do to help him that evening, except keeping him safe. He had potions that would give the Headmaster some strength, but he needed Abus to regain consciousness and he wouldn't risk using a Reviving Spell on him. The Headmaster's conditions seemed to have stabilised.

Severus watched him carefully. Albus had protected them. With the last straw of his strength, the Headmaster had brought him and Harry to safety. He felt heat filling him up inside, he didn't know if he like the sensation or not. Albus had sacrificed himself for them. Again. Albus had protected them.

Harry looked at his Potions teacher curiously. Sitting on the edge of the bed, a hand wrapped around the Headmaster's sleeve, he looked so apprehensive. He'd never thought Snape able of human feelings, he had always be the greasy bat who hated him for no apparent reason. Yet, after the conversation he had witnessed atop the Astronomy Tower he felt closer to Snape. He felt empathy, he found him and Snape being more alike than he would ever thought they could be. He could see the relationship Snape had with Dumbledore was so much like his own.

"You're one of us, aren't you?" Harry asked, he didn't mean to say out loud.

Snape looked at him confused.

"You're like me," Harry continued, trying to explain , "and Hagrid. Remus." And Tom Riddle, Harry thought, but didn't say it aloud.

"I don't know what you're talking about, Potter" Snape said.

"No, I mean..." Harry stammered, "It's like we are Dumbledore's children. He guided us, helped us, he was there when we needed him, he gave us a home."

"You know nothing, Potter," Snape said coldly and resumed to cast spells on the Headmaster's right hand to try stop the curse again even if he knew it wouldn't last.

Potter knew nothing. It was true: he and Hagrid and Potter were just a few in a long line of students Albus had taken under his wing, but his relationship with Albus was well beyond trust and gratitude. For Severus, Albus was much more than a mentor and friend: he was the backbone of his world, part of his own self. The man he was now would have never existed without Albus and he was certain he would cease to exist with Albus even without the Unbreakable Vow sowing their fate together even more.

Harry took a deep breath and went over to the bed. The Headmaster's breathing had become deep and regular. Dumbledore was sleeping .

"What do we do now ?" he asked Snape. There was a battle going on over their heads. Harry was quivering to join the fight, to run upstairs to help his friends. Where were they? Were they safe? Hogwarts was full of Aurors but… would that be enough?

"Get it out of your head, Potter", Snape said standing up, he moved to a little cupboard hidden behind a bookcase Harry hadn't notice. "You are a walking dead", said Snape, Harry couldn't see what he was doing: the Potions Master had his back turned on him. "And I don't want to be the one to tell the Headmaster, when he wakes up, that his beloved Chosen One got himself killed because he can't restrain himself from being the hero."

Harry snorted and sat heavily on the black armchair, sinking into it. He crossed his arms on his chest and didn't notice Snape approaching him.

"Here", Snape said and he handed him a small vial with a blue potion inside. Harry took it and looked at Snape questioningly.

"It'll make your shoulder feel better", said Snape. His shoulder… Harry had completely forgotten about it, it wasn't that bad anymore but it still did hurt. He drank the potion in one swift gulp and handed the empty vial over to Snape.

The teacher had, in the meantime, placed three other potions on the black table.

"Now listen to me carefully", he told Harry, "When the Headmaster wakes up, you must give him this" he pointed at the clear potion on the left, "straight away. Don't lose time, this one is very important".

Harry nodded.

"Then you give him the red one and the black one", he pointed at the other potions, "in this order after twelve minutes. Twelve, Potter" he repeated and Harry could hear his voice had gone back to his normal no-nonsense teacher tone.

"The red and then the black one", Harry repeated as he was in class, "after twelve minutes from the clear one".

"Good", Snape said, then turned his back on him.

"Why do I have to do that?", Harry asked as the implication slowly dawned inside him, "Why can't you?"

"I might not be here when he wakes", Snape answered, "I still have a part to play". And with that he left the room.

Harry sank even deeper in the armchair's cushions. He sighed.

Time did not seem to pass in the dungeons. There was no window from which he could follow the movement of the moon, or distract himself by looking at the world outside. He found himself staring at the slow melting of the candles.

The pain in his shoulder slowly subsided and the adrenaline that had kept him conscious until then gave way to a deep numbness. Unwittingly, his eyelids began to close. Harry shook himself up, but managed to stay awake only for a few seconds. Then, in an instant the world went dark and he found himself wandering in a cave illuminated by a greenish glow, flames rose from the water and a black figure stood tall amidst the fire chasing away the darkness that threatened to engulf him again.