the trick is to keep breathing

(Goldor is the best character in III, this is not up for debate)
(Also, I'm not sure if the "kiss" technically counts as making out, so...)

Nestled behind a bog of eternal swampland was a manor which stood out even compared to the manor of the rumored mage Doga: This manor was made entirely out of gold. The exterior was gold-plated. The interior walls and floor were made of gold. And the various weapons, statues, even the monsters that inhabited the place carried that same shine.
Deep within the halls of the halls of the manor, a sacred ritual was taking place. A crystal, a rich shade of gold, rested in the heart of the manor. In front of it was a man clad from head to toe in gold armor. The man kneeled, almost as if in prayer. There was a throne resting behind the crystal, but he did not take it. That was for the crystal.
Crystals were holy relics; Each of the four maintained the balance of the light and dark as well as having total control over the elements. At a first glance, the crystal that the man prayed to was that of the earth, boasting a divine yellow.
But it was not.
The man did not know that this crystal was not one of the four, and quite frankly, he did not care. The crystal consumed him. It had blessed him with this manor, these minions, all of this precious gold, and in return, he gave it his heart and soul. He knew that they were meant to be together.
But that did not mean everyone else realized this. The man was talked about whenever he was forced to go to Amur for substance. For the most part, his love for the crystal was pure enough that he could ignore or brush off the comments. They simply didn’t understand, after all. Or, perhaps they did and they were simply jealous that the man was the one to have been chosen by the crystal.
But this time was different.
The man had heard word that the Warriors of Light were coming. The Warriors drew their power from the crystals of the world. And if those morons in Amur failed to understand why he and the crystal were meant to be, it is inevitable that the Warriors would try to make them part ways. The man tried to stop them by chaining their airship, preventing them from flying to the manor. Still, he heard rumors that a means of crossing his bottomless swamp existed. The possibility that the Warriors would come to deprive him of his crystal would always exist.
The man removed his helm and approached the crystal. The face reflected in the crystal was pale and unkempt; The only time the man ever removed the helm was for the ritual. The face reflected on the crystal had long since failed to register to him and even now may as well be non-existent. The ignored reflection drew close and matched the man’s lips. In a strange way, it was as if the crystal was returning his affection.
Their bond was interrupted by footsteps echoing in the distance. The man unwillingly drew away and placed his helm upon himself once more.
“They shall not separate us.” The man reassured the crystal with renewed conviction. “Even if we must go together, I shall not let them take you away from me!”
At last, the door opened. The man took a deep breath and turned around, confronting the intruders.
“You will not take my crystal! Instead, you shall take a sound thrashing!” said Goldor.