A/N: Here's part two, finally. I didn't originally intend for this to be exclusively from Lowell's point of view, but that's how it turned out.

Her name was Amara. The first girl he fell in love with. That was in Lowell's pre-rebellion days, when he belonged to the world of nobility. She was a rich girl with a proper upbringing, and couldn't hope to defend herself when those thugs attacked them for their money one night. Lowell had done everything he could, but they were outnumbered and she was defenceless. A stray knife stroke later, Amara was lying limply in Lowell's arms and he was sure he would never be happy again. On that night, he swore to train and become stronger – strong enough to protect his loved ones in the future. He had studied magic since childhood, but in addition to furthering his skills as a mage, Lowell dedicated himself to the art of the sword and aimed to be proficient in physical as well as magical combat.

Of course, all the strength in the world couldn't fight off disease, and so a few years later, his new love died, and once again Lowell was powerless to prevent it.

Nothing changed over the years: the few other women he tentatively fell for met the same fate, always under unlucky circumstances that Lowell could neither have predicted nor done anything about. Once he decided to renounce love and stick to shallow relationships, his life became significantly easier to bear. And then along came Syrenne – the beautiful, fiery, strong, feisty, wonderful challenge of a woman who unwittingly reeled Lowell in until he was completely at her mercy. And to think she had almost died on him too! When that spell of Zesha's had gone flying at her back, Lowell had flatly refused to let it happen again; if anyone was going to die, it was his turn, damn it! And so, for the first time, he had been able to save the life of the woman he loved.

"Maybe that's a sign, mate," he mumbled to himself. "Maybe it'll be ok, with her." The thought was tempting, but did little to alleviate the terror.

Thus were Lowell's thoughts occupied in the days after Syrenne's confession and the rather hasty physical manifestation thereof. Lowell knew the proper thing to do now was propose. They hadn't been very careful, after all; for all they knew she could be...but no, he didn't want to think about that. It was bad enough that Syrenne's lifeless body plagued his dreams and thoughts; he didn't need a child's corpse added to the mental images. Irrational though it was, Lowell could not shake the conviction that everyone he loved was doomed, and so perhaps it was not surprising that he couldn't manage to get the words out to Syrenne. Besides, they had other fish on their plates. The team worked to restore the city every day without complaint, their labours punctuated only by a meeting to discuss their fallen leader. It was decided that they would make him a simple grave (Dagran was never one for elaborate decor) and have a small service to honour him, with just the six of them. Lowell volunteered to take charge of the preparations, partly to keep his mind off his inner turmoil. Meanwhile, Zael and Calista came to an agreement with the Gurak, who mostly returned to their continent (though some chose to remain on the island), and Lazulis Island was moved to a new locale. With all this work keeping them busy, it was just possible for Lowell to avoid facing his situation for the time being.

A few weeks after the defeat of Zangurak, the small troupe found itself underground again, with an imminent Reptid uprising on their hands. By this point Syrenne's hopeful glances and playful banter had long turned to glares and blatant insults. Lowell, for his part, dealt with his emotions in the only way he knew how: hiding them behind jokes and bravado. The underlying tension between them was thicker than the Reptids' skulls, and their ceaseless squabbling was driving the others mad.

"Things not going well with them two?" Yurick covertly asked while the bickering couple were out of earshot.

"Well, you could always just ask them yourself." Mirania was more than perceptive enough to guess the general problem, but she wasn't in the mood for explaining the obvious at that moment. Someone had eaten her bag of food that morning and her rumbling stomach was not impressed with the perpetrator.

"I might give that a miss," scoffed Yurick, picturing his neck between Syrenne's swords.

Zael was exasperated enough by the whole episode to take Lowell aside once they were back above ground. He steered the older man to Ariela's, bought him a drink, and decided to question him point-blank. "Lowell, what in the world is going on between you and Syrenne? Even Yurick noticed how weird you two are acting, and that's saying something."

Lowell took a deep swig of ale and sighed. "Zael, do you remember what I told you, about my past?"

"Yeah, of course I do. What of it?"

"Syrenne. I love her, Zael. I love her and she loves me and I want to spend my life with her. I want to open that bar with her and build a life together, you know? Hold her when she's upset, talk and joke around with her every day, take long walks along the river and watch the sun set. How unmanly does that make me sound? Wait, I also really, really want her in my bed every night. There, better."

It was so rare to hear Lowell open up like this that for fear of discouragement Zael simply nodded his head and waited for him to continue.

"But it's like I told you before. I'm cursed. Everyone I love is doomed, and that's the truth of the matter." Lowell took another drink and glared down at his tankard as if waiting for it to explain where he went wrong.

"Lowell, you know that's ridiculous. You've had terrible luck in the past, I'll grant you that. But you've not laid a curse on Syrenne by falling in love with her, and you know it."

"Aye, I do on some level. But I'm terrified, Zael. If anything happens to her – and it very well could, she's a fighter like the rest of us – I'll blame myself for the rest of my life. How can I live with that?"

Zael couldn't quite figure out how to respond, but he was spared the need by Mirania, who swooped in out of nowhere and sat at their table.

"I think you're being quite selfish," was all she said by way of greeting.

"What – you were listening?!"

"Yes," was her unapologetic response. "Now, Lowell, you should know that Syrenne is badly hurt. She's been yelling at people and getting into fights left and right, you know – even more than usual. It's obviously because she thinks you don't love her, and she's upset. So you should stop thinking about yourself and go set things right with her before she does something stupid."

Mirania's stark manner of putting things, though sometimes a bit harsh, was undeniably effective. Neither of the men could deny the truth of her words, and Lowell's expression was reminiscent of a whipped schoolboy.

"Aye," he said softly. "I haven't said a serious word to her since we—uh, I mean, since she told me she loved me. The day after the big battle."

Zael whistled. "Now that loses you manliness points."

Suddenly panic-stricken, Lowell got up and left the tavern without another word. Before she does something stupid...Syrenne, of course, was the type to do just that. Lowell knew fighting was Syrenne's preferred method of decompression, and she hadn't followed the others back into the city after their skirmish in the Reptid catacombs. They all knew there were doubtlessly other Reptid lairs nearby. Surely she wouldn't take on a cave full of them on her own. As soon as the thought crossed his mind, he knew that was exactly what she would be doing. Lowell broke into a run.

It was the yells that alerted him, before he got anywhere near Syrenne's location. Her battle cries, laden with frustration and heartbreak and sheer primal rage, echoed in the wilderness. Well at least she's alive. Lowell followed the clamour and jumped into the fray, his back to Syrenne's, ready to cover her. They fought side-by-side, effortlessly reading and anticipating each other in a flawless choreography of magic and swordplay and dodging and guarding, until the rabble of Reptids was annihilated. Lowell's exclamation of victory, however, was cut short by a fist to the gut and a full-body tackle. Next thing he knew he was pinned to the ground with a sharp blade hovering above his neck and, to his extreme discomfiture, another pointing between his legs.

"Which one should I cut off first?"

Lowell had never before heard Syrenne sound quite this angry, which was truly saying something. Her teeth were gritted, he breathing heavy, her eyes narrowed dangerously, and her voice sounded more like the snarl of a tigress than any human utterance. All he could do was stare helplessly up at her.

"I knew you'd do anything to get a woman in your bed, you filthy son of a bitch, but I guess I didn't realize just how far you'd go. You made me trust you. Me, trust a man! Well I bloody well learned my lesson, and you're bloody well going to learn yours!"

"Syrenne stop it! It wasn't like that! Please listen to me!"

"Shut up! You died for me, Lowell! I thought that meant something, but I guess you just wanted to play the hero for once. I guess you were sick of Dagran and Zael getting all the attention. You manipulative bastard! I hate you!" Nearly hysterical by this point, she raised both blades above Lowell's head.

Whether she really would have carried out the home thrust was a question no one could answer, but in the moment all Lowell thought to do was shriek, "Syrenne, I love you!"

The swords remained in the air.

"Please, Syrenne, you insane woman. You mean more to me than life itself, and that is why I died for you. What we did that night was a stupid decision. I wanted to marry you. I wanted our first time together to be in an actual bedroom with, you know, a roof—preferably one that belongs to us—and I wanted it to be long and romantic and unforgettable. I've imagined it an embarrassing number of times. But we were both upset and we did what we did and I wasn't ready, Syrenne. I wasn't ready to deal with my feelings for you. It's my fault, and I'm sorry. But if you'll just listen to me, I can explain." He knew he was babbling and made himself stop. For a few tense moments, the swords lingered above Lowell's body, but then they slowly flopped to either side and clattered onto the ground. Their wielder soon followed, abandoning her battle stance and sinking down to her knees.

Lowell told her everything he had told Zael, and more. He tried his best to make her understand the fear that held him back; appreciate that he didn't sleep around because he found it fulfilling, but because it kept away the pain.

"It's like the longer I go without a serious relationship, the more blown up the fear gets, you know? After that night, I wanted to tell you I loved you, and I wanted to ask you to marry me, but...I dunno, I just couldn't. I know that was selfish of me, and there's nothing I can do now but ask you to forgive me. And...well I know this is not exactly the most romantic of settings, but please, Syrenne, marry me. I love you and I want us to always be a team. We make a pretty damn good one, I'm sure those Reptids would agree."

Syrenne stayed silent for so long that Lowell began uneasily eyeing the twin swords that were still innocently lying on the ground, but she did not pick them up. She simply rose, brushed the dirt off her knees, and walked away without a word.

The baffled Lowell eventually regained enough wits to pick himself up and scramble after her, carrying her weapons as well as his own. He caught up to her outside the South Gate, out of breath and confused.

"Uh, Syrenne, your swords?"

She took them and sheathed them, staring down at the ground. After a few beats, she finally looked up and stared Lowell in the eyes, for the first time since his repentance speech. "Yeah, I'll marry you. But you owe me one hell of a lot of drinks for what you put me through, you coward."

Lowell's wide-eyed look of incredulity was so ridiculous that Syrenne actually laughed out loud. The sound of her laughter jolted him back to reality and, abandoning all self-restraint, he threw his arms around her in an outburst of joy. The relief and excitement coursing through him were more than enough to convince him he had done the right thing. As he clutched his fiancée to his breast and felt the weight of the past lift of his shoulders, he realized that all those years of being governed by fear were just a prelude to this moment of release.

Lowell was free.

And there you have it. I don't think this part turned out as well as the first one, but maybe I'm just too picky. I'm also a bit disappointed that I wasn't able to work the other characters in more, because I love them all, but I suppose that will be a task for another story. Cheers!