Warning for: Suicide Attempts, and Major Character Death. This may appear to be a little shippy but it's not meant to be. And as always, I don't support Ringabel's views and his method of things.

Spoilers for Chapter 5 and beyond/Ringabel's past.

Speaking to a friend about Ambiguous, so it was on my mind as I thought 'wow what would have happened if he had let go?'

What would have happened indeed. The first few paragraphs are more or less identical to Ambiguous (as it was intended to be another possible outcome to it, I ended up editing it a little bit...), but then it diverges from there.

Some nights are better than others. Some nights he doesn't wake up in a cold sweat in the middle of the night, mouth dry and stomach churning, heart racing until he's picked out every single one of his three companions sleeping in the quiet air. He doesn't mistake shadows for blood and the pale moonlight for the pallor of death.

Some nights he doesn't slip out of bed and stumble out of the room he shares with the three other warriors of light, right underneath the bridge aboard the giant airship they've taken to calling home in this world and the past. Doesn't drag himself to the edge of the deck for a breath of fresh air, arms tight around himself in a futile attempt to subdue the shivering that overtakes him from the chill inside and out. Doesn't succumb to the pain in his head and chest and upend the contents of his stomach over the side of the worn railing, tears trailing down his face and mixing with the bile, just missing the loose black undershirt he wears that is very little protection against the elements.

Tonight is not one of those nights.

Ringabel kneels beside the railing, gripping it until he can feel the splinters penetrate his skin. Good. The pain brings him something to focus on, to distract from the afterimages of death that still linger behind his eyes. He can almost taste the blood in the air, pooling across the old wood of the deck he stands on now - and he inhales sharply, letting his eyes slip shut.

Some nights he is unable to sleep at all for the nightmares - memories - that plague him.

Sighing deeply, the taste of sick still heavy in his mouth and the back of his throat, he pulls himself up and leans over the railing, rubbing his face with tender, sore fingers. Tonight, they've anchored near Florem. Though they've cleaned up the Blood Rose Legion in the area, there is no need to be afraid of any attacks even if they hadn't. Grandship is a fortress, solid and impenetrable.

After all, the only one who has ever breached its railing is Alternis Dim.

The thought of that man, his old self, makes him sick. With each passing day and night, more of his memories return, and it makes it harder and harder to reconcile the Ringabel-that-is with the Alternis-that-was. Where one died and the other was born only for to die in exchange for the original. His eyes slide over the patch of wood that marked where Alternis - any Alternis - had fallen over the edge and into oblivion, fingers trailing over scored marks the man's armor had left in the wood, as though to memorialize his greatest failures.

Without thinking, telling himself he simply wants to get a better look, Ringabel climbs easily over the railing at that very spot, eyes fixed on the darkness below, his hand keeping a tight grip to prevent an accident. At this height the skies are nothing but a black void, nothing like the bright light and churning waves that would have been at the base of the Holy Pillar. If he concentrates he can make out the ground below, the fields of flowers they've left their anchor.

His head feels light. His hand is cramping and burning, the splinters digging in deeper as his grip tightens. If the old railing were to give away under his weight...

His breath, his pulse, all sounds so very loud in his ears as a shock runs through his body. The splinters pierce the skin under his fingernails as his fingers curl, and as though on instinct...

Ringabel lets go.

For a moment there's panic, absolute panic, before peace and acceptance take hold. Then he's weightless and the sound of wind rushing around him drowns out the sound of his breath and his pulse- but not the scream that rips right through him.

He can't turn mid-air to see her, but he would recognize it anywhere. Edea. Lovely, beautiful Edea has seen him, and now he's flooded with regret. It fills his senses, overwhelms him, and he feels tears prick his eyes. He can't do this, he can't. He can't do this to her, to them, and to himself. What has he done?

There's not much longer, but his last thought is that he has to-

Edea screams again.

When she had first seen him over the edge, she'd felt worry. But he'd done it before, just the once, and had come back over when he'd said his name. She had never mentioned it to the others, that he'd been on the wrong side of the railing, but it had haunted her for several days.

Now her heart leaps in her chest, and she opens her mouth to call out to him when he. He lets go, and she watches in horror mid-word as he disappears from sight.

For a moment her brain turns off completely, unable to comprehend what she's just seen. But that moment is short and then she screams.

She has to stop to draw breath, sobs ripping out of her chest as she lunges forward, screaming out his name again. But by the time she throws herself against the railing to look for him, he's out of sight. It's so dark, and it's so far down.

No, no, no. This can't be happening.

Edea screams again and again, and her nails claw at the railing, splinters drawing blood as she tries to scramble over the edge. It's too late to see him, to save him, but perhaps if she can go on after him, she'll be able to -

"Edea, no!" Tiz's voice cuts through the grief in her chest as she feels the shepherd's strong arms around her waist, dragging her back down onto the deck. She fights him for just a few moments before it's too much and she collapses against him, her screams dying down to miserable sobbing. She hasn't cried this much in years, if ever, and she aches.

"Edea, please stop!" Agnès cries as she kneels beside them both, her eyes wide and confused. She'd been woken by the sound of the screaming and the sight of Tiz rushing out of the inn and still didn't know what was happening. She only knows that something was dreadfully wrong, and that Edea was… hurt? She had come around the corner just in time to see Tiz drag Edea away from the worn railing of their ship, and doesn't want to assume the worst, but..

Tiz tries to shush Edea, but his heart is sinking as he listens to her sobs. Edea wouldn't have screamed if something dire hadn't happened, and though he doesn't know what has transpired on the deck, judging by the distraught woman in his arms and Ringabel's complete absence, he - he guesses. He doesn't want to think on it, but there are no other options, and his heart aches as his mind attempts to wrap around the possibilities. Ringabel *wouldn't*, would he?

Would he?

Edea is sobbing so hard that she begins to retch, and Tiz hastily moves her so that he can rub at her back and panic truly begins to take hold in him. His breath comes in little gasps as he tries to center himself for both of the women. The only ones he has left.

"Edea?" Agnès tries again, wondering if she should cast white magic. "Edea, what?"

"Ringabel." Edea sobs out, trying to wipe her face with the edge of her nightgown. "He… he…." All she could do was point at the railing.

It sinks in, then. What's happened. Where's he gone.

Agnès claps her hands over her mouth in horror as she stares at the railing, and tears begin to form in her eyes. Oh, Ringabel… no! She rises to her feet to move toward the railing, when she's stopped in her tracks by a hand on her shoulder.

"What's going on here?" Datz's voice is thick, confused with sleep, but his eyes are wide with worry. He'd heard the screaming from the tavern and had thought they were being invaded or worse. He was a big man, but could move fast when needed. This was one of those times, and he knew Zatz wouldn't be far behind.

Agnès can't speak through the crying that's started, and Edea is still quietly crying, so it's Tiz who speaks, his voice carefully measured through his grief. "Ringabel went over the edge."

The words hang in the air, heavy and horrible.

Datz lets out a shaky breath. "Are you -"

"Yes!" Edea all but screams. "He just- he went over." She'd seen it, clear as day, even in the dim light of the lanterns that lined the deck of Grandship. "Please, I wouldn't. I wouldn't say that if…" She couldn't speak anymore, clutching her chest and doubling over in pain.

Zatz joins them then, just as sleepy but worried, and together the two Shieldbearers try to tend to the despondent warriors - children, all of them. The soldiers had seen plenty of horrors while serving in the army, but few were as difficult to deal with as the death of a comrade - at his own hands, no less. Datz picks up Edea and Agnès both in his arms, and Zatz brings up the rear with Tiz, his hand firm on the teen's back as Tiz succumbs to his own shaking and crying.

Edea finally stops sobbing somewhere near dawn, though she doesn't stop *crying*, tears silently rolling down her cheeks. Tiz doesn't know what's worse, seeing her react so violently or not seeing her react much at all, staring into space while she cries brokenly. She stays curled up in the Proprietress' soft bed with Agnès, the two of them bundled up in quilts and blankets while the older woman promises the remaining men that she'll take care of them.

"Not even my food can heal a broken spirit," the woman says, her voice tired. "But it'll keep their bodies warm until their hearts are ready."

Tiz chokes down a cup of black, bitter coffee, thinking with an ache in his chest that this was Ringabel's preferred brew. But he needed to be awake.

"You don't have to come with us," Datz rumbles, crossing his arms.

"It's probably better that you don't," Zatz agrees, shaking his head. "We'll take care of things from here."

They were going to try and find the body. Agnès had begged them not to leave him to the wildlife.

"I have to do this." Tiz shakes his head firmly. His mind is made up. Ringabel had tried to play the part of an older brother to him - to them all - and while he could be a little strange and most certainly inappropriate at times, his tendency to look after them had been appreciated. Now that he was gone, the role of brother in the group would fall on Tiz - Ringabel would joke he was more like their *mother* - but he owed it to someone he could consider his best friend to at least find his body and bring him home. Lay him to rest somewhere peaceful, perhaps in Eternia? "Ringabel would do the same."

Of this, he is certain. Though he doesn't know if he'll be able to see the remains of Ringabel's body, he has to try.

They set off as soon as it was light enough, a grim gathering. There's not a wide area to search, considering they had been anchored for the night, though Zatz thinks aloud that the distance and the wind wouldn't have made it a solid straight drop.

Tiz wanders behind the two soldiers aimlessly, his thoughts whirling. How could he have not seen the signs of Ringabel being so far gone with grief and pain that he'd consider doing this? What had he missed? This was his fault. He should have noticed, or said something. It should have been his turn to go after Ringabel last night, but Edea had already been awake and she'd gone instead. He would do anything to repeat last night, to go after Ringabel immediately. Edea didn't need to see that… Ringabel didn't need to *do* that.

"Hey, Tiz." Datz says over his shoulder, his voice low. "There's nothing you could have done to prevent this."

Tiz's head snaps up, his cheeks flushing. Had he been thinking aloud? But the two men are giving him weak smiles.

"It's on your face. And it's… something we all think," Datz explains further. "But if you could have done something, you would have."

Zatz nodded. "Yeah. You guys wouldn't have just let him… do that. Whatever he was thinking, it wasn't your fault."

A lump forms in Tiz's throat, and he feels his eyes burn. He tries to swallow back the tears, but it's too much. The events of the night catch up with him and he struggles to breathe, pressing his hands to his chest.

Datz immediately turns back to him. "Zatz, take him back to the ship. I'll look for Ringabel until you come back."

Tiz jerks his arm out of Zatz's grip and stumbles away. "N-no, I'm fine!" He side-steps the two men and moves forward quickly, before Datz gets the idea to pick *him* up, and he makes it all of five paces before he stops short, eyes widening at the … *thing* he's just found in a patch of grass.

The form is broken, so broken, shattered and twisted and even though most of the blond hair is stained brown with dried blood, and the black clothes are torn, there's enough of *Ringabel* left to identify him, and the coffee that Tiz had choked down threatens to come right back up.

It doesn't help when Datz grabs him by the back of his collar and yanks him away from it.

"Get him out of here," Datz orders to Zatz, but Tiz struggles.

"Wait, wait!" He's already seen it - seen him, he can handle this! He's not just going to leave Ringabel now. He has to bring him back home to Edea and Agnès, to Eternia. He has to see this through, no matter how his stomach churns and his chest aches.

"There's nothing you can do, Tiz." Zatz's voice is a little strained as he tries to wrestle with the taller, bulkier teenager, but he's got more experience.

"I - I can't save him," Tiz accepts, his voice tightening. Datz has turned away from them to kneel by the body. "But I promised the girls I'd bring him home. Let me stay, I'll stay out of the way and -"

"He's alive," Datz says, his voice incredulous.

That stops Tiz and Zatz cold, and once he feels Zatz's hold on him loosen, the younger boy darts forward to kneel beside Ringabel's broken form. The relief is so great that he can even ignore the horrific injuries as he scans his friend's body for the same sign of life that Datz had seen and finds it.

Ringabel's chest is bruised and somewhat bloody, but there's an uneven, pained rise and fall. Blood bubbles at his mouth with his breath. Somehow, despite all odds, he's breathing. He's alive.

A laugh forces out from Tiz's throat, and he very nearly throws himself over Ringabel's body in relief, stopping only at the last moment when he remembers that the other man is terribly injured. He's alive, but for how long? Tiz rummages around in his pack for a potion.

"Will this help?" he asks.

"I don't know how we're going to save him," Datz replies, his face grim. "But we'll do it."

Zatz, far faster than either of them, runs back to Grandship to fetch Agnès. Her healing magic is the best among them, and she's needed desperately, as much as they don't want to expose her to the body - to Ringabel's injuries. If they want to save him, they must.

Potions are more effective when taken internally, but Ringabel doesn't stir when Tiz carefully slides his hands under the man's head. For as much blood as there is in his hair, his head thankfully seems relatively uninjured; it's his legs that took the brunt of the impact, and Tiz doesn't know how far healing magic can go in fixing *that*. But they drip one potion into his open, slack mouth, and while most of it drips out from between his lips, the unconscious man instinctively swallows part of it.

Another is dripped over the worst of his open wounds to help knit them back together over his bones. Not too much, else they'll heal wrongly and he could spend the rest of his life crippled, but enough to ease his breathing. Stabilize him until Zatz and Agnès return.

Unable to help himself, Tiz wets a handkerchief in some water from his flask and uses it to clean up Ringabel's bloody face, knowing just how much the other man prides himself on his appearance. He's… pained, obviously, his brows knitted even in his forced sleep, and there's still that blood that's bubbled up from his mouth - some internal damage would not be unlikely, given the circumstances, but he's alive, and that's all that matters.

Tiz's tears help to wash some of the blood off as well.

When Agnès returns, she gasps at the horrific sight in front of her.

"How could he - how is he alive?" She says, even as she kneels in front of him, her need to heal her friend overtaking the urge to be sick. The glow of white magic emanates from her hands before she even settles.

"Be careful. We need to set his broken bones before we heal those, but if you can get him stabilized, we can get him back on the ship." Datz informs her in a quiet voice. From there, they could let him rest in the inn and heal him or even take him elsewhere for treatment. He could use it, both physical and mental. Datz has seen this too many times before.

Agnès nods to show that she has heard him, before focusing back on Ringabel's chest. The way that it caved in slightly worried her, as did the drying trail of blood from his mouth and nose.

"Edea?" Tiz asks Zatz, unable to take his eyes off the healing process.

"Asleep. Proprietress knocked her out with some sleepy tea. Said Edea started sobbing again." Zatz informs him as he kneels beside the other man.

Tiz nods. It was for the best. Ringabel was still in a precarious state, and if he were to slip away from them - which he wouldn't, because they would save him - it would just hurt Edea more if she knew he'd survived the initial fall.

As Agnès continues to work, they watch, and the sun moves slowly overhead. Progress is agonizingly slow as the men carefully set Ringabel's bones every time Agnès moves to a new area to heal. His chest and torso are the most dire area; Tiz thinks the older man probably broke a few ribs when he'd fallen, and once Agnès has healed them, his breathing evens out. His head wound is next; the last thing that Ringabel needs is another bout of amnesia from a blow to the head.

His legs were the biggest remaining injuries, but those could wait until later, Datz finally decides when the sun was overhead.

"The Lady Vestal needs to rest, and we need to get him indoors. He'll get a sunburn at this rate." His statement is punctuated with a grim laugh, but they manage to move Ringabel onto a makeshift stretcher. He groans in his sleep, a beautiful sound.

Datz carries a drained Agnès back to the ship while Zatz and Tiz handle the unconscious man on the stretcher they support from either side. Just as earlier, they go slowly so as to not injure him further, and once both Vestal and vagrant are placed into a lifeboat they'd rigged many months earlier to haul unconscious party members into Grandship, they hoist it up and over the railing.

Agnès curls slightly over Ringabel, mindful of his dreadful wounds, as the lifeboat is lifted. He's breathing better, more evenly, than he'd been when she'd first seen him. Truthfully, his battered form is enough to make her feel ill, but what's more important is that he's alive. Silent tears drip down her face and smear into the dried blood on his arms as she reaches up to gently push his hair away from his face. She knows the man would want to look his best for when Edea sees him.

"Crystals," she prays quietly, so that only the two of them can hear. "Please save him. Please save this precious companion of mine." He might be alive, but they still don't know if he will ever wake, ever walk.

When the lifeboat is settled on the deck and Tiz reaches in to extract her, she's still curled over Ringabel, weeping.

"You've done well," Tiz tells her as he settles her into his arms. She leans her head against his shoulders, looks at him with red-rimmed eyes. "Thank you so much, Agnès. I think we can save him." She sniffles, with a nose as red as Edea's ribbon and tries to give him a smile, but it's weak. Tired.

He'll let her get some rest with Edea, he decides, as Datz carefully transports Ringabel to the inn. With their pilot out of commision, their options are very limited. While both of the Shieldbearers know how to steer Grandship across open water and flat fields, Ringabel is the only one with knowledge enough to really navigate the behemoth airship across continents. It's as though they're stranded until he's well enough. Stranded, and unable to seek help.

But there's nothing they can do about it. The haze of grief in his heart had dissipated slightly at the discovery that Ringabel yet lived, and it threatens to come back again as panic. Tiz shoves it to the side as he hands Agnès over to the Proprietress, politely waves away a small, light lunch, and jogs back to the inn. They have Salve-Maker, and Spiritmaster… he runs over each of the Jobs in his head to determine which ones would save his friend.